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nnight-dances · 1 year ago

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ADORABLY, YOURS.

pairings: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader, feat. choi seungcheol tropes: love triangle, friends to lovers (jeonghan x you), strangers to friends to fwb to friends (seungcheol x you), kinda slowburn, one-sided love (or is it?), pining, slight age gap (2-3 years) etc. genres: fluff, angst, jealousy, sexual content (no explicit smut content but references to it) with vulgar language, cafe!au, non-idol!au, college!au. word count: 12k (I am sorry about this.) what to expect: You’ve liked Jeonghan since you met him through your best friend, Wonwoo. But little by little every day you’re convinced he knows you like him and his non-action can only mean your feelings are not mutual. Then, you run into Seungcheol, a childhood best friend of Jeonghan’s, who instantly develops a soft spot for you. The resulting love triangle that wreaks havoc on your emotions might as well end being the answer to your problems. Bittersweet like coffee but decisive as a caffeine rush, this is the story of how you beat all odds to be with Yoon Jeonghan. warnings slash author’s note: I warn you beforehand: the logistics of this love triangle are a bit morally ambiguous, i.e. I can’t tell if I used Seungcheol purely as a plot-point or not. I probably did. But in my defense, I think all love triangles are inherently a little bit evil and cruel. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this admittedly self-indulgent mammoth of a fic. I had a headache the whole three days I was writing it. I love Jeonghan and I promise there will be a make-up fic for Seungcheol, because I’m biased but not corrupt. As always, this isn't proofread but I will get to that in the next few days! All right, that’s all. Love you, friends and foes!

It’s one of those days. You can’t help yawn after yawn and no amount of caffeine is washing the throbbing in your head away. To make things worse, you’ve managed to sleep with a spine posture worse than even your worst days which means your back hurts from standing at the register all day. But the day is far from over as a glance at the clock informs you; your cafe shift has a good three hours remaining.

And whenever you’re hoping to take a break on the uncomfortable chair propped in a corner near the register, the door to the cafe will jingle with the presence of a new customer. At least your co-worker for the day, Joshua, is also a friend so you can talk his ear off about the various ways in which you might escape the prison of existence.

Just as you’re going into detail about how you wouldn’t mind dissipating into air, the glass door swings open and in comes a tall man clad in a suit, the heels of his dress shoes clanking against the floor of the coffee shop. You reign in the surprised look that threatens to overtake your face – because goddamn, the man is gorgeous – as you greet him, “Good morning! Welcome to Moon Coffee!”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” the man corrects you with a dimpled smile. You wince at your mistake and nod, “Right, sorry about that. What can I get started for you?” You force a smile that you hope is friendly enough onto your face, gesturing to the large menu boards above you, “Please, take your time.”

As the man busies his eyes with the plentiful options displayed on the boards, you busy yourself with questioning what a fancy ass man like him was doing at the campus coffee shop. His hair was long, brown ends curling around his neck and as he ran a hand through it, deep in thought, you could essentially smell how rich he was.

“The hazelnut mocha sounds like it’s good but also really sweet,” he comments, looking at you for a second opinion.

“Right, it’s one of our best-sellers! And it is on the sweeter side because of the chocolate in it, but you could balance it out with a double-shot?” you suggest and then, “Otherwise, our classic mochas are not as sweet.”

The man nods with a slight smile, “Hmm, I like the sound of the first option. I’ll have that, please.”

“Is that an iced hazelnut mocha with a double-shot for you?” you ask with a smile. When he nods, you punch in his order, “Can I get a name for the drink?”

“Seungcheol.”

“All right, thank you very much. That’ll take just a few minutes. You’re welcome to take a seat and wait.” He nods as he walks to one of the tables next to the window.

Joshua’s already getting to work with Seungcheol’s drink and you take a moment to rest your back against the counter, throwing a glance or two at the new (and gorgeous) face in town. But thankfully for this rich stranger, today is the day you don’t have the energy to go down a rabbit hole trying to find an explanation for his presence. Instead you wave him a good day as he leaves with a satisfied smile on his face and an iced mocha in his hand.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

A week later has you eating your words. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Thursday afternoons are the busiest times of your shift at Moon Coffee. Most students were either rushing to down caffeine to finish some daunting assignment due at the end of the week or otherwise, others would be early in celebrating the fast-approaching weekend. The first kind you can deal with: they’re easy to relate to and they don’t really care if your customer service is the bare minimum from how tired you are.

But the second kind? You wish you could be granted with some kind of powers that would take away any more weekends from the rest of their lives. If the way they strolled in grinning and took their time with the menu didn’t have you fuming, their inane but obnoxious questions about your life would have you at the edge of your temper every week. You were only thankful you didn’t have to work the Friday crowds or you’d actually be declared a public threat.

But today, unfortunately for you, Jeonghan’s decided to make a visit to the cafe and if the fact that he’s not even a student anymore wasn’t enough, he was celebrating his birthday week. Which meant he was even worse than in exhibiting his usual infuriating customer behavior. But annoying customer or not, Jeonghan was also the guy you’ve harbored feelings for since two years ago now.

So when he strolls up to the counter with Seungcheol, the polite rich man from last week, by his side, you have more than one reason to stare at them dumbfounded.

“Oh, hey, it’s you!” Seungcheol starts, eyes trailing to the name on your tag, “Y/N!”

Jeonghan shoots you a confused look and then elbows Seunghceol, “Don’t even pretend that you know her. I totally caught you looking at her name tag. Have a little shame, Cheol.”

You clear your throat, “Um, good afternoon and welcome to Moon Coffee! What can I get started for you?” You punctuate the question with a smile that you hope screams please order fast and get out of here!

But Jeonghan evidently has long missed the memo when he pokes Seungcheol again, “You know sometimes I come here just so I can see Y/N smiling. She never smiles off the clock. It’s truly devastating.”

Seungcheol looks amused, “Is that so? I mean, fair enough. With a smile like that, you ought to be paid to show it.”

You cough into your palm, caught off-guard but quick to conceal the shy grin that’s crept up your face. You pray that the heat in your neck doesn’t climb up to show on your face. “Will you be ordering the same as last week? Iced hazelnut mocha with a double-shot?”

Seungcheol’s face lights up a little at your recognition but Jeonghan’s quickly butting in with an affronted expression, “Oh, so you recognize this man who’s been here once, but not your close friend of a long long time? Do you even know how much money I’ve spent on the seasonal lattes here?”

You sport a sly smile, “Right, thank you for enjoying our seasonal menu of beverages. We hope you continue to love the upcoming drinks. Feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions here!” You hand him a brand-new index card and gesture at a drop-box next to your monitor.

Seungcheol cackles at the defeated look on Jeonghan’s face and grins as he says, “You know what, I think I’ll get the same mocha again, Y/N. It did wonders for my mood.” You find yourself grinning almost immediately, tapping in his order with a hum.

“And for you?”

“...”

You know Jeonghan’s scheming something but you can’t afford to let him play out whatever sick mind games he’s planned out at your workplace so you’re quick to appease him, “If I might, I suggest you go for the salted caramel brownie latte. It’s perfect for this weather and it tastes suspiciously like birthday cake.”

Jeonghan can’t help a smile at your words, rolling his eyes a little, “Fine. That does sound tempting. I’ll have one of those, but only if I get a personalized note from you wishing me a very very happy birthday.”

You contain a scoff, “Of course.” You nod, “Thankfully for the line behind you, I already have your names down. Please step aside while we prepare your drinks. Thank you.”

–

“She’s hilarious,” chuckles Seungcheol, bumping shoulders with Jeonghan as they settle into his car. “Didn’t think I would witness Yoon Jeonghan’s downfall in a random college cafe.”

Jeonghan scoffs, “I think you’re too happy about this. Plus, my downfall started a long time ago when I stopped cheating in board games.” He takes a sip of his latte, “Fuck, this does taste like cake. What the fuck?”

Despite his words, Jeonghan smiles when he sees the note you promised him:

jeonghan – happy birthday week, u weird old man! please invite me to ur birthday party so i can give u the best gift of ur life and maybe also stick ur head in cake :) lots of love, y/n.

“She’s in her senior year, you said?”

Jeonghan looks up with a nod, “Yeah, I met her through Wonwoo, back when we shared a class in college. And then when I graduated and settled here, I’d invite them to get-togethers because I know how miserable the nightlife on this campus is.”

“Wow, look at you, such an admirable role model,” Seungcheol jokes, “And Wonwoo? Was he the glasses guy who you FaceTimed this morning? He seemed… cool, I guess.”

Jeonghan shrugs with a shoulder, “He’s a piece of work, alright. But that explains why he and Y/N are inseparable. Anyway, you’ll meet the rest of the crew later tonight. Thursday night is board game night.”

‘Board Game Night’ was a very, very loose term for the weekly gathering at Jeonghan’s place – it was a mix of Jeonghan’s friends, namely Dokyeom and Woozi, from work doing karaoke, his tired college friends (aka your friend group) lounging around on their phones, and maybe a group of two to three actually playing board games.

Tonight is slightly different, though, because the alcohol that Jeonghan otherwise wisely guards most weeks has made its presence known to everyone, the fancy bar table propped in a corner of his living room finally finding meaning.

You make it to his place, around thirty minutes past the usual starting time, exhausted from another soul-sucking shift at your job. You’d planned to sit on Jeonghan’s couch and binge-watch some mindless TV show but you’re thrown off when a reddened Seungcheol answers the door.

“Y/N! You’re late,” he exclaims. His speech is normal, thankfully but as you step in to take in the rest of the people, you look back at Seungcheol, eyes doubtful.

“I did not know my night was going to involve babysitting a bunch of drunk old men,” you mutter, not quite meaning for Seungcheol to catch your words. But he does and chuckles, hand at your elbow as he steers you to the bar.

“C’mon, you don’t have to babysit anyone. I’ve got it under control. Now, let me pour you a drink. What can I get for you?”

You watch the tall man with a skeptical smile, a little flustered because he’s standing close enough that you can feel him hard bicep against you and a little bit amused because well, this was new. It’d been a while since you’d been flustered around a man other than Yoon Jeonghan.

“Oh, so you’re making me a drink now?” you ask, “How did you even convince Jeonghan to let out the alcohol? You must have some special powers over him for this to happen.”

Before Seungcheol can supply a reason, Jeonghan appears behind the bar counter, smirking, “Ha! You think I’d let this coward dictate my actions? Nope, this was completely my decision. I couldn’t let the week of my birthday be dry! That’d be such a shame.”

“You’re funny, Han,” you mumble, turning to him with a quirked brow, “How many drinks are you down?”

He waves your concern away, “Shut up. I’m older than you, I don’t need you fussing after me. Now, get yourself a drink before I get mad.”

You raise your hands in surrender, “Sure, wouldn’t want the birthday boy to be made at me.”

“So what will it be? Do you want a beer? Or maybe a good old rum and coke?” Seungcheol offers, eyes already searching for the ingredients.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I think I’ll have a Scotch and Soda, please.”

A few hours later finds you sprawled on Jeonghan’s couch, nevermind the alcohol in your system and the ruckus your friends were creating. You had engaged with their antics for an hour: playing stupid drinking games (only to get drunker by the minute because you suck at games) and retiring early.

Jun starts to complain when you announce that you’re giving up, mainly because he’d be the next target of the crowd, but Jeonghan firmly leads you to the couch.

“You okay?” he asks you, warm fingers steadying you by the neck. Your world spins as he becomes the focus, ironically enough. You nod as you welcome the soft couch underneath your unsteady body, “Hmm. I’m just bummed out that you didn’t help me out by cheating.”

He laughs and the sound unsettles you with its vibrations. “I told you I don’t cheat anymore, silly. Also, I’m pretty sure you’d have lost even if I did pull out some master cheating moves.” You gasp, weakly pushing him away, “Whatever, man, I don’t need your attitude.”

If Jeonghan’s started to genuinely get worried about you, it only gets worse when you cough into your elbow, groaning as you pull away. His hands find your neck again. You hate his touch because you lean into it so naturally, your eyes following him just like he wants. You hate the warm feeling you feel when he feels your forehead with a concerned frown. You hate how you’re practically burning at his touch because he’s a breath away and your fingers twitch in your lap from wanting to touch his hair.

But soft like the strands that tickle your ear, Jeonghan whispers, “God, you’re burning up. Maybe you did drink too much. Fuck, let me bring you some water and then, let’s get you to sleep.”

You protest his lamely sensible plan of action but he isn’t listening as he departs, leaving you feeling cold. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate, trying to keep an eye on Jeonghan when another tall figure encroaches your field of vision.

“Y/N?” Seungcheol calls out and for a moment, you’re unresponsive, eyes fixated on something beyond him but then you perk up in recognition, pouting as you beckon him to the couch.

“You–!” you point at him with a squint, head working hard to recall his name, “Um, um, Cheol?”

Seungcheol smiles at the nickname, taking a seat next to you, leaving some space but extending an arm behind you because of how you’re dangerously swinging. “Right, that is me. How are you feeling? Not too nauseous I hope?”

You shake your head, “”M fine. But tell that to Han because that weasel’s trying to make me sober up and sleep.” You breathe out a little angrily and then when the world swims around you, you lean your head against the back of the couch– that is currently occupied by Seuncheol’s arm.

He jumps a little at the unexpected contact but steadies himself when he sees your closed eyes, your skin hot against his forearm. “Now, why would he do that? You literally just got drunk,” he tells you, trying to keep you engaged in the conversation, lest you should pass out.

“Right?” you exclaim, opening your eyes, head still against his arm, “It’s like he’s never had fun in his life. For how much he likes to tease people, he sure is a killjoy.”

“Ha, I’m surprised you know him so well, honestly. People usually just take him at face value and think he’s a devilish troublemaker. But god knows how mature Jeonghan is. It makes me mad sometimes.”

You giggle and Seungcheol’s stomach swims at how he can feel the sweet sound in his veins, like literally. “You get me, dude. How long have you known him?”

“Um, like, nearly ten years now? I don’t know, I kinda lost count at some point.”

“Wow, that’s a long time. I’ve known him for like two years?” you hum. “Yeah, he told me.”

You quirk a brow at that, lifting your head up in amusement. “You two been talking about me? What did he say? That I’m Wonwoo’s evil twin?”

“Hmm, yeah, something along the lines of that.”

Jeonghan’s back by your side, suddenly, his strong grip straightening you up and holding up a glass of water. His expression is stoic as hell for a board game night and you don’t know if you feel scolded or cared for. It’s always hard to tell with him.

You stare at him blankly, not drinking the water like he wants you to. Instead you turn to Seungcheol, “I don’t want to.”

Your plea is unreasonable, you and Seungcheol both know, and he can practically feel Jeonghan’s glare when you ask Seungcheol, “Cheol, can you tell him I’m not dying? I don’t need to be babied.”

“Yeah, you do,” Jeonghan says, touching the cold glass against your skin. You jump a little with a soft unfair! and Seungcheol sighs, “Hannie, let her be. I don’t think she wants to go to sleep yet.”

“Thank you! At least someone has ears ‘round here!”

Jeonghan shoots his best friend an unreadable look, still firm, “Well, she needs to drink water either way. Unless someone wants the worst hangover of their life the next morning.” This time, his unoccupied hand finds the back of your head, settling into the stray strands of your hair there. “Please, just drink this.”

You find yourself giving in, lips opening up to the glass and you swallow a few gulps of water, the cold liquid soothing your insides. Before you know it, the glass is empty. He holds it up in front of you, “See? That felt nice, didn’t it?”

There it is, again. The playful glint in his eye and the sly tone of his voice. You ignore the burning tips of your ears and give him a half-nod, throwing yourself against the couch again with a relieved sigh. “Thanks, old man! What would I do without you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes as he stands up, “Ever so grateful, Y/N.”

“Y’know, Cheol and I were in the middle of a very mind-opening discussion about you.”

“Me?” his interest is piqued and he glances at Seungcheol, who he jostles lightly, “What’ve you been, shit-talking me?”

Seungcheol laughs as he throws the man off, “Wouldn’t you like to know? Anyway, if you want to go back to your game, I have a lot of anecdotes to share with Y/N. It’s our bonding time.”

And bond, you do. You spend the rest of the night talking to Seungcheol on Jeonghan’s couch, the owner of the place long forgotten as you go on to talk about everything else: college experiences, Seungcheol’s job (“So how rich are you exactly?” you grill him), and life interests.

“I can’t believe you like college so much! I hated it a lot back in my time.”

You snort, “You sound really old for someone who graduated two years ago. But I mean, each to their own. I prefer the comfort of the bubble here, you know. No real responsibility most of the time and you’re allowed to make some mistakes now and then. The real world? That’s like hell. I don’t think I’m ever going to feel like an adequate adult ever. Like, tax fraud is real, you know? And I never know which law I’m going to break? Don’t even get me started about the living situation.”

Seungcheol laughs throughout your troubled rant, “No, I get it. But don’t you feel excited about the independence you get to have? The freedom? And plus, if you get lucky with your job, working is actually very fulfilling.”

“Ugh,” you throw your head against the back of the couch again, “I don’t think I’ll ever feel fulfilled. Like ever. I feel too immature to be anything but a college student.”

He frowns on hearing that, confused because he’d never imagined of spending a whole night talking his heart out to a college student. But it happened because it was you, with your quick-witted responses and thoughtful questions. So, he’s fast to counter, “That’s not true–”

But his defense is cut short when Wonwoo approaches you, tapping at your shoulder with a smile. “Hey, you wanna head back?” You look up and are shocked to find the living room nearly emptied of its earlier occupants. When did everyone leave? “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your room. It’s getting late,” Wonwoo continues.

“Oh, damn, I didn’t even realize,” Seungcheol mutters, looking down at the watch on his wrist. “You guys sure you want to head back this late? You could just crash here. I would offer to drive but I drank.”

Wonwoo’s eyes trail to you, leaving the decision up to you. You mull it over, “I don’t know if Han’s gonna want a bunch of wasted kids at his place?”

As if you’d summoned him, Jeonghan appears beside Seungcheol with a yawn, “What’s this about me? Why’re you guys still up? Come on, let me show you to the empty rooms and please go to sleep before I have to use force.”

Wonwoo laughs, “He didn’t even leave us a choice,” and you watch as Jeonghan turns around, expecting you to follow him.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you turn to your best friend, “Please tell me you don’t still try to suffocate other people in their sleep?”

The boy contains a grin, “I don’t know. It depends on how annoying the person I’m with is.”

“You’re sleeping on the floor, asshole.”

–

Seungcheol has a problem.

He likes to think of himself as a reasonable adult, with the ability to make logical choices and admitting to his flaws here and there. But had he been reasonable enough, he wouldn’t be this hung up over someone he met twice over the course of two weeks. It’s ridiculous: the way his heartbeat’s racing when you tread down to breakfast the morning after the board game night turned bonding time.

He’s smiling his way through an excited “good morning!” before he can collect himself. You look tired, albeit a little bit lesser than usual, and your hair’s down in something of a mess. Seungcheol vaguely recognizes the faded gray tee you’re wearing, probably a donation of Jeonghan’s. “Morning,” you mumble to the breakfast table, everyone present now that you’re here.

Wonwoo snickers, “You look like shit, dude.” You glare at him as you’re reaching out for a fork, “Thanks, Wonwoo, I see that you’re as sweet as ever.”

Jeonghan lightly slaps Wonwoo’s arm, “Be nice to her. Who knows what a hungover Y/N might do?”

You turn to Jeonghan, finally eating the piece of watermelon that you’d been reaching for, “I’m flattered you’re concerned but I’ll have you know I’m not hungover.”

“That’s impressive,” Seungcheol chimes in and you smile at him, “See, I can’t believe this man I met last week understands me better than my best friend and my other friend.”

“Your other friend? That’s what I am to you???” Jeonghan gasps, hand clutching his chest dramatically and Seungcheol laughs louder than he ought to, but he can barely help it, he’s all giddy. All it took was a half-compliment from you.

So yeah, easy to say, Seungcheol has a problem and it has something to do with the way you lean into him when you ask him to pass a slice of toast.

Luckily for Seungcheol, you also have a problem, and it occurs when you declare you need to head back, hoping that they’d let you go alone but Jeonghan’s standing up instantly with a nod. You have a problem with the way he’s unbothered with his behavior, easily saying, “I’ll walk you,” as if your best friend of years wasn’t sitting right there.

You look to Wonwoo, hoping he’d feel the heat of your expression but he simply stretches his limbs out with a groan, “Think I’ll go take a nap before I leave.”

“Don’t you have a class at 12?” you nudge him subtly, trying to ignore Jeonghan as he stands at the table, fingers tapping at the chair that he’s behind.

“Eh, I’m ahead of the syllabus in the class and attendance is a joke.”

You sigh in defeat and meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he lifts his lips into a smile.

And the smile only leaves his lips once you’ve stepped out, clad in your clothes from last night again, groaning when the morning sunlight hits your eyes. “Ugh is right,” he mumbles beside you as he starts walking.

You catch up to him, hands stuffed down your pockets, and he asks, “You have class?”

“Not really. But I do have an upcoming paper I want to finish over the weekend so I don’t perish next week.”

Jeonghan chuckles as he glances at you, “Wow, you’re still this hard-working, huh? I thought your lifestyle would’ve worn you out by now.”

“You’re one to talk about detrimental lifestyles, Han,” you scoff, “Just because you hang out with us once a week doesn’t mean we don’t know you’re overworking yourself for the rest of it.”

He’s silent for a beat and then he exhales, “Huh. I don’t know. Feels like I have the other kids fooled. It’s always you, with your smart little head and truth bombs.”

You laugh, hitting his side with your shoulder, “I’m serious, Han. Take it slow, won’t you? You’re going to end up burning yourself out to death by the time you’re 30. And then whos’ going to host board game nights?”

Jeonghan laughs and he turns to look at you, walking pace slowing down as he trains his eyes on you. You raise your brows in confusion, a slight smile playing on your lips as you try to guess what he’s thinking this time.

“You and Cheol have been getting along really well, huh?”

You’re thrown off guard, not having imagined this to be his next words. You shrug. “Yeah, he’s really easy to talk to, especially given his… I don’t know, social status?”

“Social status?”

You cough in embarrassment over your words. What were you saying? “Don’t know. It’s just nice to meet someone whose hopes and dreams aren’t being crushed by student debt.”

Jeonghan’s silent again and now it’s your turn to frown because you’re wondering if you said the wrong thing. God, does he think you’re creepy for liking his childhood friend? Fucking hell.

“I’m glad,” he says but you can sense a strain in his voice, “I was worried he’d get bored to death when he came to visit me.”

“Ah, well. How long is he around?”

“He took a month off, I think? But he’s got it easy with his flexible hours, so really, it’s up to him when to leave.”

You nod a little, “Cool.” You exhale in relief, a little bit reassured now that Jeonghan was back to talking like his usual self. You’ve finally reached the steps to your dorm by the time the conversation fades away and he waves at you, “Better be on time tomorrow for my party. And don’t forget to bring the best gift of my life.”

You groan when he quotes your note on his coffee from a day ago, shrugging as you turn around to run up to your room and melt into your pillow. But you’ve made it to two steps up when he calls out for you again. You swerve around to face him with a questioning glance.

“Y/N, remember you can come to this old man if you ever need anything, okay? I’m here for you, always.”

??????????

–

Okay, let’s rewind a little.

You’ve known Jeonghan for two years now, enough time to fall for him. You argue it was inevitable because all your life, you’d only been disappointed in your love interests, who would either ghost you in the talking stage itself or break up a few months into the relationship. One time it was because you were too busy with your studies and the third and final time because well, you were apparently too aloof. Not loving enough.

Which is why when Jeonghan came into the picture, you found yourself changing ever so slightly. Not to say you weren’t still a little bit wary of people and took your time opening up, but you met a lot of friends through him and he taught you that trust and attention goes a long way in relationships. If only you could apply this newfound knowledge to new relationships.

You’d tried: Wonwoo had set you up with a friend from class, Mingyu, and while you’d been able to sit through the first date, by the end of the night, it was clear that both of you were more interested in sex. Which was fine. But then there was the guy who was a regular at your cafe who had given you his number and you’d ended up wondering why you were with him in the bathroom, staring at a text from Jeonghan.

So you were down pretty bad for him. And as Wonwoo had voiced multiple times before, the next move to make was to actually tell the man that you’d been suffering in your feelings for him. But every time the topic came around, you had only one answer prepared: he already knows. Or so you’re convinced.

You had good reason to think so. Once, the group of you had been playing an online game that involved picking red flags for other people’s ideal types and when it was time for others to pick some for you, all hell had broken loose. “I bet she likes bad guys who are emotionally unavailable,” Jun had said, quick to drag the flag that said emotional constipation on it. You had defended yourself quickly, “UH? No thanks, men with no emotional intelligence are a hard pass for me. I don’t want to feed into some idiot’s Oedipus complex just because I’m the mom friend.”

“The mom friend?” Wonwoo had questioned, “Please, Y/N, if anything, you’re the dead friend with a severe case of RBF. Jeonghan’s the mom friend.”

Jeonghan’s shrug had been followed by a hysterical Joshua going, “Wouldn’t that mean Y/N’s ideal type is Jeonghan? I mean, it makes a lot of sense, he’s mature and emotionally intelligent.”

You’d choked over your next words, cheeks burning, “No, that’s stupid. Don’t be weird.”

Yeah, very weak defense.

When Wonwoo brought up the fact that you’d refuted Joshua’s claims and that probably led Jeonghan to believe you weren’t into him, you simply told him to remind himself of what happened next. Dokyeom had laughed, “But you definitely go for older men? I can’t imagine any guy in college being too smart like that.”

You’d agreed in the end, his logic being pretty solid. You had also noticed the way Jeonghan excused himself to the kitchen with a lame excuse about bringing more snacks when there was an array of unopened chips still lying around.

“Okay, so that’s one example, from like two months ago,” Wonwoo argues as you roll around in bed to avoid his glare, “Do you really think he remembers that incident so well?”

“Two months ago was not that long ago. And it wasn’t just this once. I’m a mess around Jeonghan.”

“You’re a mess period,” Wonwoo casually declares and when you sit up with an unhinged jaw, he laughs, “No offense.”

“Whatever. I hate you. And I hate Jeonghan. I should just skip his birthday party or I’m just gonna make things worse for myself.”

“Right. And what about the Lego set you spent half your life savings on?”

You pause, heart skipping a beat when you remember the gift sitting on your desk, wrapped securely and the purchase of which you could only justify with the words: Yoon Jeonghan.

“God, I must be insane. Why did I even buy that for him? He’s gonna think I’m genuinely weird. Does he even want gifts? He’s turning 25 for god’s sake.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond so you can hear yourself and eventually, you do. Jeonghan himself had told you to be on time to his party with the gift alongside. You’re going to cry.

“You really think I should tell him?” you ask quietly.

Your best friend nods eagerly, patting your arm through the mess of your bedsheets, “Please. It’s high time. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Weird promise to make, but fine. I’ll do it.”

–

The weight of your promise settles into your veins when you’ve arrived at Jeonghan’s place, self-consciously straightening out non-existent wrinkles in your dress when he comes over to greet you and Wonwoo. It doesn’t leave when he grins at you, wider than usual, and it definitely only gets worse when he accepts your gift with a low whisper that he’ll be sure to open yours first.

You’re thankful for Seungcheol when he shows up next to you, dimples out as he compliments you in your dress and you return it with a shy smile. Half because you need a distraction and more because Seungcheol’s presence is calming, you follow him to the bar.

“How’s your night going so far?”

“It could be better,” you mumble, eyes searching for Jeonghan and settling when he doesn’t seem to be anywhere close, “A little bit nervous.”

“Nervous?” he asks you, sliding you a drink and you smile as you take a sip: Scotch and Soda.

“Hmm, it’s nothing honestly. A lot of work piling up as we speak,” you joke. Seungcheol’s frown melts away, “Ah, of course. Senior year must be crazy.”

The night picks it pace up thereon, with your nerves finding some peace in the buzz from alcohol and your cheeks only hurting the longer you talk to Seungcheol.There’s some dancing of course, here and there, but you find yourself avoiding Jeonghan actively, retracting from the floor whenever he’s close.

It helps that Seungcheol stays close so that you have an excuse to appear occupied and somewhere along in the night, you tell the man with a smile, “You’re really charming, you know, Cheol?”

He breaks out into that giggle of his, “You think so? I haven’t even pulled out all the stops yet?”

“Really?” you find yourself stepping closer, encouraged by how quickly his hands are at your waist, “What haven’t you done yet?”

A breathy hum leaves his lips at your provoking and you’re close enough to brush lips against Seungcheol when suddenly, you’re being pulled away. For a moment, you let out an annoyed groan, certain that the iron hold on your bicep is Wonwoo being stubborn again. So when you tilt your head and catch sight of Jeonghan’s black hair falling into his eyes, a glare in place, all words leave your system.

You’re aware he’s dragging you away and also that Seungcheol’s following, reaching for your hand with words leaving his mouth, but you can’t make anything out. The blood’s in your ears and your heart is in your throat. You can feel Jeonghan saying something at Seungcheol, who glances at you in doubt, and leaves.

By the time you've calmed down, you find yourself in Jeonghan’s room, door half closed.

“Jeonghan?” you question a little weakly as he finally lets go of your arm and sits on the bed, his head in his hands. Is he okay? you wonder, standing helplessly near the door. You call out his name again, “Han? Are you okay?”

You step closer to him but stop when he looks up, startled by the lack of humor in his expression. “What were you doing back there?”

“Um, talking to Cheol.”

“Talking?”

“Are you annoyed at me, right now? Or jealous? I can’t tell.”

Jeonghan goes silent again, gaze dropping to his feet. You’re feeling annoyed by the minute.

“You’re acting like an idiot, Y/N. You don’t know Seungcheol. And you’re drunk.”

There it was: that strict tone of his, that always left you feeling conflicted and hurt. Today you actually tell him about it, “I’m not a kid, Jeonghan, I know what I’m doing.”

He looks up at you when you say that, eyes wide. “I never said that. I’m just saying that you should be more careful.”

“I am being careful,” you retort, a hostile edge to your voice, “I don’t know why you do this.”

“I thought you liked me.”

The words stun you into silence and your ears ring as you freeze. Your eyes don’t leave Jeonghan’s form though, watching him, waiting for him to disappear into nothingness as if this was just a dream. How you wish it was.

But Jeonghan’s on his feet when he notices the horrified look on his face and it’s only when he starts to come closer that you reach for the door.

“No, Y/N, please let’s talk about it–” he grabs hold of you and you feel your vision go blurry with tears, your back hitting the wall when Jeonghan shuts the door behind you.

“I knew it,” you mumble out through tears, “You knew about my feelings?”

Jeonghan’s eyes find yours in the dim lighting of his bedroom and you shiver when his hand tightens around your wrist, “I’ve known for a while. But then you went around flirting with Cheol like it was nobody’s business and I…” he trails off, “I was jealous. And confused.”

You force yourself to breathe out, heart going wild in your chest because of course, Jeonghan’s not addressing the elephant in the room. “Well, I was going to confess to you today and get it out of the way. But there’s no need anymore, I guess?” You cringe at the way you can hear the quiver in your own voice, “Just let me go now?”

“Why?” he asks, “You haven’t even asked me if I like you back?”

You scoff, “God, Jeonghan, you make it sound like we’re in high school or something, all this ‘liking’ talk.” You try to sound stable, only to be contradicted by the tears that leave your eyes, “And I figured you didn’t return my feelings. Or you would’ve done something about it.”

There’s a pause then. A shift. Jeonghan’s grip on you loosens ever so lightly and you fear you’ve understood him too well. For once, you wish you weren’t right.

“You’re right,” Jeonghan breathes out as if on cue, but his grip is still unyielding to your dismay, “Well, I thought I didn’t like you. I mean, you’re really pretty and funny and being around doesn’t tire me out like it does with others, but… I just liked you as a friend.”

Your heart’s shriveling up at his words with uncertainty because he might be talking about your love for him being one-sided but it is also in the past tense… right?

“What are you trying to say, Jeonghan?”

He flinches, “Um, I’m sorry. I just– I’m so confused about my feelings, right now. God, I thought I was more mature than this.”

You can’t help the disdainful laugh that leaves your lips as you push him away, brushing your tears away with the back of your hand. “Look, Jeonghan, I’m sorry I don’t have the time to sit down and help you untangle your feelings… about me. It really hurts to hear you go on about this, honestly. I think I’m just going to leave. Happy birthday, I hope you like your gift.”

–

The night outside is much more welcoming to you now, your shoulders more relaxed than ever now that your stupid crush on Jeonghan’s out in the open for him. You hadn’t expected it to go down like this but well, at least you were right about him already knowing, you know?

Lighter than before, the drinks you’d chugged before to gather courage catch up to you in the moment when you nearly run into a pole on the street. You would have run into it if Seungcheol hadn’t swerved you out the way with a, “Look out!”

“Fuck,” you mumble when you’re steady on your feet, Seungcheol’s hand firm around yours, “Sorry. I was in my head.”

“I know you were but you gotta watch where you’re going, kid,” he scolds, “I don’t want to have to carry your unconscious body to your room.”

You roll your eyes, “What is it with everyone and calling me a kid tonight? So much for keeping up a track record for being reliable and responsible.”

“It’s not that you’re not those things, Y/N,” Seungcheol says, hand still on yours reassuringly, “It’s just that sometimes you’re… dense. And maybe even something of an idiot.”

“Ah! Excuse me!” you protest, “I am not an idiot. Say that to my grades.”

“An idiot as in someone who doesn’t see what’s right in front of them.”

That shuts you for good, then, and you stop walking with a sigh. “I don’t even know about that, anymore.”

Seungcheol watches as you slow down, tears behind your eyes and his heart hurts for you, thanks to his problem. When he’d found you storming out of Jeonghan’s room with fists wiping your tears away, he’d wrapped an arm around you immediately, listening as you quietly told him you needed to leave. He’d offered to walk you home and you’d watched him for a moment before nodding.

“Why are you doing this, Cheol? Shouldn’t you be back there, comforting Jeonghan?”

“See, there it is. The idiot side of you.”

You go silent again, looking down at the hand that was clutched in his a few moments ago.

“...you like me?”

“Bingo. Plus, I don’t think Jeonghan wants to hear from me tonight. Not after I almost kissed you in front of him.”

You let out a surprised sound, hand flying to your mouth when you recall the near-kiss, ears turning impossibly pink under the streetlights. “Fuck, I forgot that happened. I’m sorry? Or you’re welcome?”

“Nah, I can’t thank you till we actually seal the deal,” Seungcheol teases, stepping closer to you and dramatically ducking his head as if going in for a kiss. You push his shoulder away, “Fuck you, Seungcheol.”

“I mean, sure, if you want to!”

“Ugh!” you start walking with a pout on your face, “I hate the guts of the men in this place!”

“That’s not what your face said thirty minutes ago at the bar!”

“Go away, Cheol, or I’m reporting you to the campus authorities.”

“Aww, you called me Cheol even when we’re fighting. Aren’t you the sweetest?”

–

When Monday rolls around, you think you’ve got a good hold on your head this time, especially after a few grueling hours at your shift at the cafe. That is until you spot Jeonghan walking in, hair tied back in a half-ponytail and hands crossed across his white cardigan. The sight of him sends you into a frenzy and you debate your options as being between: ducking behind the counter and switching positions with Joshua, or otherwise, manning up and facing the aftermath of your actions.

You glance at Joshua’s back, his hands busy cleaning the espresso equipment and before you have a minute to ask him to switch, Jeonghan’s at the counter (where’s a line of customers when you need it?), calling you out. “Hey, Y/N, do you think we could talk for a minute?”

You look at him blankly, not expecting him to take the direct route after everything. But you malfunction a little and cut his advances off, “Welcome to Moon Coffee! What can I get started for you?” you ask loudly and then add in a softer voice, “Conversation with me is not on the menu.”

“Hm?” Jeonghan looks devastated at your cold response but his eyes search the menu board frantically anyway, “Uh, I guess I could get just an iced americano, then, please?”

You note that down with a half-smile, and almost go on to ask for a name for the order but decide against it, not wanting to stretch your pettiness limit for the day. “Alright, thank you for your order! Please feel free to take a seat while you wait.”

You relax when he nods with a hesitant smile and takes a seat, close to the window but close enough to the counter to hear his name being called out. You feel the pit in your stomach burn a little at how deflated his shoulders are and you wonder if you ought to drop the act; you’d been into the man for two years now. Right?

But before you can pursue this heart-wrenching line of thought, you’re distracted by the sound of the door opening and– great, it’s Seungcheol. By the surprised look he shoots Jeonghan’s sat figure, they hadn’t planned this… ambush, but you reign in your usual cordiality anyway as Seungcheol approaches you.

“Hey there, morning. How’ve you been?”

What did you have to do to have one customer who came in here for coffee?

“Good afternoon,” you correct him, pleased at the reversal of your first meeting with Seungcheol, who chuckles a little. “Welcome, what can we get you today?”

He pauses, casting a glance to Jeonghan over his shoulder, whose attention is on this interaction, legs crossed and brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, didn’t know he was in here. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“What are you apologizing for?” The question slips before you can remember to be professional and also, a little bit quieter because almost certain that Jeonghan’s heard you by the way he averts his eyes. “Um, I mean, sorry. I can recommend you a drink for the day or do you want to get your usual?”

Seungcheol mulls it over, “Hm, I’m fine with anything you choose for me.”

You pause before punching in the order for a hazelnut mocha, without a double-shot this time. He can deal with the sweetness for a day, you reckon. You glance at Joshua who’s still cleaning up before getting started on the orders because well, it’s a slow day. Or it’s supposed to be.

As you thank Seungcheol for his order and he’s about to step aside to wait, you add in a quick, “And next time, if you want to check up on me, do it when I’m not working.” He does nothing to hide the grin of acknowledgment that takes over his face, a sight that only darkens the storm known as Yoon Jeonghan brewing in the cafe.

You walk over to Joshua, “Dude! Hurry up, we have customers waiting.”

He turns to you slowly, wiping his hands off ever so slowly, even the smile on his face slow. “Don’t worry, it’s just Jeonghan. We know these guys. We can take our time.”

You narrow your eyes at him, wondering if Jeonghan put him up to this act, but don’t question it because even that would be admitting defeat. “Whatever. I’ll make the drinks if you’re going to be annoying. Where’s the syrup for the mocha again?”

Joshua slaps the hand that you’re using to reach for the syrup with a firm, “Uh-uh! Hands off, young lady. That hazelnut mocha is all mine to make. You can work on the iced americano if you really want to help out.”

You groan, throwing your hands up, “So you were slowing things down on purpose, you little bitch.”

“Hello? Please be mindful of the language you use around here. I can report you–”

“Yes, yes, of course, I will just shut up and make that americano so I don’t have to listen to your voice again.”

A few minutes later, you’re scribbling Jeonghan’s name onto the cup, proud with the quick work you’ve made of the drink and also thankful nobody was coming in right now. “Han–” you stop yourself just as the nickname slips your tongue, flinching when you remember you’re supposed to be acting stuck up right now.

You turn, hoping that Jeonghan hadn’t heard you but nevermind that because he’s at your side, quicker than he ought to be really (any other scenario, he would be declaring all kinds of knee problems), that sly grin plastered on his face.

“Hi there,” he greets you, “Called for me, did you?”

“...I did. An iced americano for Jeonghan.” You try hard to make your sentences brief but Jeonghan’s chuckling as he takes the drink from you– using both his hands so that you’re brushing against his. Classic middle school boy behavior.

If anything, this ordeal was making you question if the man was as mature as you’d believed. Either way, he thanks you with a smile and leaves promptly, leaving a very affronted Seungcheol in his wake. “Hey, I thought you said you were gonna wait for me!” he calls out after Jeonghan, who doesn’t respond as he slides out.

“A hazelnut mocha for Seung…Cheol?”

You glare at Joshua who frowns at the name as that was the first he’d heard of it, and the guy just shrugs as he puts the drink down. “Sorry about that. Joshua’s feeling rebellious this afternoon,” you tell a frowny Seungcheol (you are a minute away from admitting how cute he is when he’s upset), “Anyway, here’s your drink, Seungcheol. Have a good day!”

“Cheol!” you call out when you spot the brown head of hair outside the cafe when your shift ends. He’d texted you a while after he’d walked off with his drink in hand, pouting because you insisted on calling him Seungcheol.

meet me after your shift? his text reads.

do u even know when my shift ends dude

no and thats why im asking u. when does your shift end?

… u are insufferable.

insufferable enough to fall 4 u i guess

when are u going to stop holding your feelings for me over my head?

when you do something about them.

meet me at 6 outside the cafe.

Yeah, so you wouldn’t say you’re being your wisest self right now. To begin with, you should probably seek out Jeonghan and find closure of some sort. But something tells you to wait on him, wait till he’s ready to seek you out (no, coming up to you during your work shift did not count). Instead, you choose to pursue the… spark that you have with Seungcheol, his feelings for you aside. The night after Jeonghan’s party he’d made it clear that he didn’t really want anything serious, just to get to know you more while you were still around.

A little fooling around never hurt anyone, right?

So when Seungcheol whines out, “Oh, so I’m back to being Cheol now, huh?” you finally let out the laugh that you’d held back at work at his antics.

“Nobody ever told me you were such a pouty baby,” you tell him, eyes shameless trained on his pink lips.

“I don’t pout for anyone, baby,” Seungcheol shoots back, hand on your back as he leads you somewhere. You look at him in question. “What? We’re getting dinner.”

“I was not aware,” you reply, “But all right. Let’s do it.”

Dinner is comfortable. Which is more than you ask for on a date these days.

“Your dates have really been that bad, huh?” Seungcheol asks you. You shake your head, fork scraping some tiramisu onto it, “You can’t even imagine it, Cheol, it’s hell out there. I’m lucky if the guy pays for the dinner so I don’t have to work an extra shift to make up for it.”

He laughs and you savor the sight, because hanging out with this often hadn’t meant you had become indifferent to his looks. If anything, it was the other way around.

“Thanks for dinner,” you tell him later as he sneaks his hand into yours. You allow yourself to feel guilty for indulging him like this but then he squeezes your hand, “Anything for you, m’lady.”

Later that night, you invite him to your room. “It’s not much,” you add to the invitation, “But you know, I do happen to have some wine in my fridge that Wonwoo forgot to pick up. And my bed’s pretty cozy to watch movies in.”

Seungcheol is breathless by the time you’re in your room, not only because of the trek up the stairs but also the fact that you’d held his hand in yours the whole way up. “Wow, it sure is cold in here,” he comments as you turn the lights. It is the textbook college room, albeit a little bigger since you’re in a single.

You cough, “Um, sorry about that. Let me turn on the heater. And you can sit on my bed…” you pause when you remember the mess you’d left on your mattress this morning, in a hurry to make it to your shift but nevertheless, insistent on putting together a fit.

You sweep up the pile of discarded clothes from your bed and onto an already burdened chair, making a show out of it. You dust your hands off with a smile at Seungcheol who’s been watching with a hand on his hip. “Change your mind about me yet?” you question, teasingly.

He rolls his eyes as he walks closer to you, effectively bumping you onto your bed, the new angle forcing you to look up at him. He kneels in front of you, his smile turning loving as he takes your face into his hands. “Not a chance,” and then he leans in until his warm lips are on yours, the heater whirring irrelevant now that heat’s rushing up to your temples instantly.

You taste him and then pull away, “Mhm. Not so fast, you sly little man. I promised you wine and a movie in my bed. And I,” you say as you crouch in front of your fridge, “am a woman of my word.” You shake the cold bottle of red wine at him and he grins.

An hour later, you’re curled around Seungcheol, glasses of wine long consumed and movie long forgotten in favor of cuddling. You stare at him and then when he smiles shyly, you finger one of his dimples, “Hey. You sure you’re not serious about me? Because I’m…” you hate the way you trail off, the very thought of Jeonghan derailing any sense of coherence you’ve ever had.

“I know,” Seungcheol’s hand comes to your wrist, “I knew I didn’t stand a chance against Jeonghan since I saw you guys fight at the cafe that day. You look at him like he has all the answers.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you brush off, not completely refuting him. “But if you knew, why’d you stick around and… I don’t know, flirt with me?”

Seungcheol laughs into your neck, “Call it a bad habit of mine.” His hands play with your hair now, brushing it away from your face, “I see a pretty girl and I have to charm her.”

You drop your head into his chest with a groan, “Stop! You sound so creepy. Like a predator.”

“Hey!” he protests, his chuckles vibrating through you, “You’re the one who called me charming the other day!”

“Hmm. I guess I did.”

His hands slowly pry you away from his chest and to his face, lips pressing against yours. You smile a little and then open up for him, shifting until you’re situated on top of him. You close your eyes, surrendering yourself to the kiss and – “Shit, you’re a good kisser.” The man underneath you moves you closer with a pleased smirk, voice smug when his lips trail down your neck, “That’s not the only thing I’m good at.”

–

“Sex with older men really is different, huh?”

You gasp at Wonwoo’s vulgar words, slapping his arm mercilessly making him jump away from you. “Dude! Mind keeping it down? We’re in the library, not your mom’s house.”

“Ha! Jokes on you, I wouldn’t be making dirty jokes in my mom’s house because Jeonghan is my mom away from home and he would really kick my ass if he heard me talk about you and Seungchel fucking–”

Another slap on the arm and Wonwoo shuts up, groaning in pain. You grimace when you notice a few heads turning your way at the commotion, and bow in apology. When they’re looking away, you glower at Wonwoo, “Seriously, man, what are you up to? Drop the horny teenager act for once so we can focus on the problem at hand.”

“Judging from the tone of your voice, I’m guessing that you’re not talking about the problem of calculus in front of us, but rather, the problem of… life?”

You stare at Wonwoo blankly, “I’m so glad you find this entertaining.” As you’re about to continue giving him a piece of your mind, your phone buzzes, cutting you off much to Wonwoo’s relief, who sneaks a look over your shoulder anyway.

cheol: rate last night on a scale of ‘okay’ to ‘let's meet up again tonight’?

You scoff at the audacity and Wonwoo’s already clinging onto this new piece of evidence. “Oh, so what was that about this being a one-time thing? Next thing I know you’re moving in with him when you graduate.”

You slam your phone face down, “Listen, I know you think this is a joke but it’s not. I’m not going to sleep with Cheol again because that’s obviously the right thing to do. But as for Jeonghan, well, it’s been radio silence from him all week.”

“And since when have you let Jeonghan take the lead on your relationship with him? You know he’s a working man so I’m not surprised he’s not texting you at noon on a Wednesday.”

You glare at Wonwoo, “Seungcheol is also very much a working man? I don’t see your point. And also, I don’t know when this became a competition between the two?”

“Since you confessed to one and then slept with the other?”

You exhale heavily, unable to shoot him down because he was at least a little bit correct. Instead you heave your head into your arms. “Maybe I should just fake my death and move away.”

“You’ll give up your dreams of graduation over a stupid love triangle, consisting purely of men?”

“Shit. You’re right. That’s not happening,” you look up, “Jeon Wonwoo, what would I do if you weren’t by my side bringing me to my senses? You’re the best friend I ever had.”

“Actually, your use of ‘friend’ is very offensive to me,” he complains, fisting his palm dramatically, “I consider myself one of the girls. Or even better, your guardian. Refer to me as Your Highness exclusively or I will not listen.”

You stand up with a screech of your chair, “Okay, that was the last of your reasonable thinking. I’m going to go to my shift and work until I can no longer think or pine.”

“Great plan, young one!”

“Touch grass while I’m gone and you might have hope yet.”

–

“Look, I really don’t think we should be doing this anymore.”

Seungcheol laughs, eyes searching your face for signs of humor. You flash him a grimace of seriousness and doom. He deflates. “I saw this coming. Should’ve known you would only ever ask me out to a fancy restaurant for dinner to break up with me.”

You flick his forehead, “Break up? Don’t call it that. It gives people the wrong idea.”

“Interesting, Y/N L/N admits to caring about whether or not people get the wrong idea about us. Very interesting,” he comments, not at all sneaky with the way his arm snakes around you, “Anyway, you want me to pay for dinner and what, drag my sorry ass back to Jeonghan’s place?”

You stiffen at the mention of Jeonghan and then sigh, the following conversation almost inevitable given your current situation. “So speaking of Jeonghan, has he been talking?”

“Um, yeah, he sure has been opening his mouth and saying words.”

“Fuck you, I meant as in, about me? Has he said anything?”

“Not in specific. Although he did inquire if I had slept over at your place two nights ago and when I said yes, he threw a slice of half-eaten apple in my face. Since then whenever I see him, I duck.”

“That’s very funny.”

“Don’t worry, I made sure to tell him how hopelessly in love with him you are–”

“That was not needed.”

“–And how you accidentally moaned his name on my cock.”

You glare at him, “What about those statements made you think they were okay to voice out loud, not only once but twice?”

As Seungcheol comes up with a witty defense for his lapse in judgment, your phone buzzes next to your thigh and the name that pops up has you zoning everything out instantly.

han: hey, can we talk?

You look away from the screen and breathe out, “And that makes two of us dragging our sorry asses to Jeonghan’s place.”

When you knock on his door, the last thing you expect to see is a red-eyed, very sniffly Jeonghan. Heck, you hadn’t ever even come close to imagining the heartbroken look on Jeonghan’s face, his eyes downcast when you visibly look taken aback at his state.

“Han?”

“Hey,” his voice is hoarse and good lord, you can’t stand this. “Let’s sit in the living room. I was going to go grab some water anyway.”

You follow him speechlessly, watching the way his hands disappear into the sleeves of the black sweatshirt that hangs loose around his frame. You keep watching when he reappears, and it’s when he sits down quietly, fingers whitening around the glass of iced water in hands that you lose it.

“Talk to me, Han. Are you okay?” you breathe deeply to contain the multitude of concerned questions that threaten to leave your system. For one, you didn't know how to interpret the crestfallen expression he held up when he met your eyes. While someone like Wonwoo (aka a naive little kid) would argue that the only reasonable explanation for it would be that he was devastated that you’d been avoiding him the past week. But knowing what you did about him, you couldn’t let go of the possibility that he was just mourning the impending loss of a friend, i.e. you, when he breaks it to you that he doesn’t like you back.

Jeonghan senses you’re in your head when you’ve been staring at him for a moment too long, mouth agape, so he moves closer, taking the water out of your hands and placing it next to his emptied glass.

“I��m sorry, Y/N.”

Fuck. An apology?

You stammer, “S-Sorry? Why?”

“I’m sorry I called you an idiot the other day. You’re the farthest thing from an idiot– and you’re definitely not a kid. I’m so sorry that I made you feel like that. I just… I’ve been thinking about us, and I realized that somewhere along the way, I became really over-protective of you. I started treating you like you were fragile or something, and I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m listening,” you tell him, frown letting up now that he’s finally speaking up.

“And I’m sorry for being a cowardly little bitch about my feelings for you,” he mumbles, eyes dropping to your lap where your fingers play with the fabric of your shirt uneasily. He stops your fiddling, his hands coming to envelope both of yours. “I’m the idiot for thinking I could be anything other than in love with you.”

“Huh,” you exhale again, biting your lip to hold the smile that threatens to spill.

“And finally, I’m sorry for not doing anything about it when I knew your feelings were mutual. As you know, I’m getting old and–”

You stop any further stupidity from leaving his lips by – you guessed it – by pressing your lips against them. He lets out a surprised gasp and your smile finally turns into a giggle when his hands tighten around yours in your lap.

You pull away, only to detach your hands so you can bury them in his hair instead and Jeonghan smiles at you, his eyes crescents as they watch you lovingly and you think: the pain was worth it.

Jeonghan’s smile widens when he feels you thumb at his skin, tenderly tracing his eye-bags.

“You look terrible, Han, I’m sorry,” you mutter, kissing his cheeks and then his forehead. He’s already mellowing under your hold and he hums, low, “You should be. I went to hell and back when Seungcheol announced he slept with you. I mean, what were you thinking?”

You break, guiltily looking away. “That was not my smartest moment but I was also very distraught about my relationship with a certain someone who wouldn’t contact me outside of my working hours.”

“You and your stubborn need to remain professional. Y/N, it’s a campus cafe, I don’t think anyone’s going to care if you break your act once in a while. I don’t know, if I don’t get a kiss the next time I visit you– I might just rethink this.”

You scoff in disbelief, “You’re a real pain in the ass, Jeonghan. Maybe I’ll just go back to my room and cry myself to sleep.” But as soon as you make moves to stand up, Jeonghan’s bringing you back to sit, taking the chance to pull you closer into a hug. “You will do no such thing.”

You freeze when you feel his nose settle into your shoulder, warm breaths relaxing when your hands reclaim their place in his hair. “I love you, Y/N.”

A beat passes and with a kiss to his head, you return, “I probably love you more, old man.”

“If we’re going to date, that nickname has got to go!”

“What? You’re the one who was complaining about your knee problems last week. It’s fine, I can add this relationship to my list of community service activities.”

Jeonghan pulls away, standing up abruptly and jerking you upward as well. Your smile falters but then, he’s steering you to his bedroom, throwing the door shut with a grunt. You side-eye him, “What’s up–” He cuts you off, lips hot against yours.

A few minutes later, when his tongue finally lets up, he mutters, “I just remembered that you kissed Seungcheol with this mouth. I’ve gotta do everything I can to erase that memory.”

“I can’t tell if you want me to forget… or yourself.”

“Shh, I bet he couldn’t even– Wait, why aren’t you wearing a bra? Don’t tell me you were–!”

“You sure love asking questions, old man,” you whine and before Jeonghan can question you further, you take ahold of his hand, sliding it over your stomach and down the waistband of your jeans, the space tight and hot but not as hot as the groan Jeonghan lets out when he feels you. “Holy fuck, you’re wet.”

You grin when he falls to his knees, your jeans unbuttoned and pulled down in next to no time. “There’s more where that came from,” you mumble before he’s between your thighs, ripping out scream after scream from your throat.

–

Genuinely and honestly, if you’d foreseen waking up in Jeonghan’s bed, his hair a mess from last night but face comfortably snuggled in your arm– you would’ve been less mean to Wonwoo. Because it turns out that his voice (of reason? or of deviance? you would never figure it out) in your head had been right: Jeonghan did return your feelings all those times you thought he might.

He tells you all about it when you’ve collapsed later that night, replacing the curses on your lips with dampness in your eyes because of how vulnerable he is, pouring his heart out to you like this.

Propped up on an elbow, he played with your hand, “I remember when you first came over with Wonwoo. I thought I’d met myself, but younger and prettier and sillier.”

“I hate it when you combine insults with compliments so I can’t attack you.”

“I learnt that from you, silly,” he kisses your nose but continues, “But honestly, the more we talked, the more I realized how different you are from me. I mean, sure, are you tired out of your mind half the time like me? Yeah. But you were so observant and so keen on getting to know people. It’s hard to come across people who are invested in friendships for more than just small talk and someone to have meals with.”

But just as he’s getting deep on you, he adds, “Plus, you smell a whole lot better than anyone else. I’d go crazy sitting next to you, especially because you just love to throw yourself at people in laughter.”

“Not that I’m complaining–” he stops your protests quickly, “I swear my heart would skip a beat everytime you laughed at something I said. And then the time we were talking about ideal types and you got all flustered over everyone teasing you about me? Dude, I had to run to the kitchen before I could do something rash. Like kissing you in front of everyone. Or worse, bride-style carrying you into my room so I could enjoy the adorably lovesick look on your face.”

You groan into his pillow, “Stooop. This is just embarrassing for me. It’s not like I was trying to be obvious.”

“I know, baby,” he coos, gentle hands prying you away from the pillow, “But you know, you have the same look on your face right now.” He laughs, kissing the pout off your lips with a sweet, “For what it’s worth, I was yours for a long time. Just took a minute for me to realize it.”

You huff but smile despite it and pull him closer, “I’m glad. Now hold me to sleep or I’m gonna be sad.”

Another laugh reverberates through the two of you when he slides down, pulling the sheets closer over you, and pats your back as you settle into him with a satisfied sigh. “Sleep well, my love.”

–

“And when I’m gone, please don’t stop eating breakfast in the morning. I know you think that it’s consequential to your life completely,” Seungcheol pauses for dramatic effect, “but it’s important. It could be the difference between living 20 less years or 50 more.”

“How scientifically true is that?” you mumble to Jeonghan under your breath, who being the devious little brat he is voices your concern, earning you a look from Seungcheol.

“Whatever, I knew my words were undervalued in this household ever since you guys started dating and refused to keep it down at night. Like, it’s not that hard, right?”

You punch Jeonghan’s arm to both keep him from telling the dick joke he’s about to say and also, to show Seungcheol that you wanted no part in this. “I told this guy to keep you in mind but that just made him mad which in turn led to… screaming. Sorry.”

Seungcheol sighs as he glances at his watch, “Okay, okay. I have to get going now so bring in whatever last-minute reconciliations you two have for me.”

Jeonghan steps forward and hugs the man, surprising both the latter and you. But you watch with a pleased smile playing on your lips, relieved that their friendship still seemed to go strong, bumps and all. When it’s your turn to hug Seungcheol, you scoff at the hesitant look he casts at your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his middle.

“Thanks for everything, Cheol. Keep in touch. And do something about this second-lead syndrome of yours. I better catch you in a happily stable relationship of your own next time around.”

Seungcheol chuckles quietly, waiting for you to pull away to say, “If that’s an order from the main female lead, then I guess I have no choice, do I? Unless,” his eyes mischievously stray to Jeonghan who already knows what’s coming next, “the male lead fucks up and leaves a certain pretty girl single, huh?”

You don’t have time to decipher if that’s a threat wrapped up in a punchline because Jeonghan’s arm’s around your shoulder, moving you away and besides you, he says, “You’ll be waiting all your life if you wait on me to fuck this up. Bye, Cheol, I can see that your Uber just pulled up.”

“Ha! Good one. Alright, this is goodbye for now. See y’all on my feed. Or it might be better if I don’t. Anyway, bye and don’t kill anyone.”

With Seungcheol gone, you look up at Jeonghan with a smug smirk, “Oh, so you plan on sticking around with me forever? That’s a long time, you know.”

Your boyfriend chuckles, his eyes twinkling, “Please, if I had the patience to watch you hug Seungcheol right in front of my eyes, being with you forever will be a breeze in the park. So yes, I plan to stick to you forever, like superglue.”

“Gross, you couldn’t say something romantic like candy or syrup?”

“Sorry, babe, but I was just distracted by how all mine you are that I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“Never mind, I think it’s worse when you’re all cheesy. Go back to being gross?”

“I love you. Now, come here so I can kiss every single surface of your face. And then we can go on a walk and tell everyone who told me to give up to suck it.”

You lose balance when the laughter finally escapes your mouth but thankfully, Jeonghan’s arms are around you, promising and playful when you meet his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. I love you. So I guess we can do all the weird annoying stuff you want to do for now.”

Despite your banter though, the two of you are so happy together that you’re shocked by the picture of you with Jeonghan that Wonwoo Airdrops, after your walk. You have the dopiest smile on your face and Jeonghan’s looking at you with a cheesy grin. You hate to admit it but you do look like an “old married couple” like Wonwoo’s text teases. But for once, you give in, snuggling closer to Jeonghan’s body because well, yeah, you did plan to stick to him. Like superglue.

–

#once again apologizing #jeonghan x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt fluff #svt angst #svt x reader #yoon jeonghan #choi seungcheol #seventeen smut #jeonghan angst #seungcheol angst

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leewritestoomuch · 7 months ago

Note

I’m sorry for all the requests but Dr.stone brain rot is killing me 😭:

May I order a headcanon (once facking again) where their s/o’s family was extremely poor in the past, so when Ryusui made currency they spent the least amount of money, rarely eating out of habit and trying to not make the same mistake their family did before?

If there was a Tsukasa part I believe that would only fuel his anger more for the rich and greedy ngl 😭

Anyways, if you do my request once again. Thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart! And remember to always take care of yourself pookie <3

- Sincerely, 🍙 Anon

Reader’s Family was Poor in the Past

Hi!!! Thank you for the request! :) and do remember to take care of yourself too! Sorry this is so late to when you sent this in 😭 there is so much in my inbox, I jump around.

I chose Senku, Gen, Tsukasa, and Ryusui for this.

Senku Ishigami

He wasn’t too concerned with what everybody was doing, but your behavior doesn’t go unnoticed.

He watched as you picked through almost thousands of drago and only spent a few, and it almost seemed like you were scared to.

Ryusui had practically thrown drago at you because you were nearby and he complimented you and gave you plenty of money, so why were you spending SO cautiously like you were down to nickels and dimes? (I know nothing about Yen so I don’t know if there is an expression equivalent in Japanese)

You have nothing to really save the money for, so why were you debating so hard over spending it on a shirt. You wanted the shirt, didn’t you?

Eventually, he’d found out from somebody that knew you that your family was poor. He had thought something like that must have been the case, but now he knows for sure.

He’d likely encourage you to spend a bit more. Either that, or he’d bluntly tell you there is no reason to keep the money so close to you anymore.

Gen Asagiri

If he had that much money, he’d be blowing it.

You had thousands of drago that Ryusui had just handed you. And you were clutching onto it like you’d be robbed of it and be left for dead without it if you loosen up just a little.

You hesitated to get cotton candy, despite how much you said you missed the taste.

He watched you and soon noticed your behavior was like those who were less fortunate to have to ration to survive.

You didn’t need to do that here, the money isn’t that important. At the end of the day, the hunters in the kingdom of science would bring home food rather people paid them for the meat or not.

The community doesn’t run off of money, so your behavior is unnecessary. So he’d probably talk you out of it.

He’d come stand beside you, talking to you softly.

“Money isn’t that important here. You don’t need it to pay for a house. And the beasts of people we have here do the hunting for us, and never once have they asked for money. Nor would they deny you food if you couldn’t pay. You can save some… but maybe spend half? Plus…” he leans in to whisper, “Ryusui would gladly pay for you if it ever came to it. I’m sure a man like him will never run out of money.”

Tsukasa Shishio

Dragos have been around for a while, but you’re still clutching onto them like it’s life or death.

Francois doesn’t make you pay them for food. The hunters (him, Hyoga, etc) don’t make you pay them for meat or anything.

So your behavior has got to be engraved into you.

He might be on the side of kingdom of science, but deep down, this rise of currency and capitalism bothers him.

watching you struggle to let go of money makes him angry.

The world they used to live in had brought you to this point, and that pisses him off.

He knows what that’s like. He fought for money. He became famous for money. All for money for Mirai. Just so his sister would live.

He had to pay people to keep his sister alive.

And old men paid for the rights to land and he had no grounds to even do anything about getting beat down by one for picking seashells. That man OWNED those seashells.

He doesn’t know exactly what you went through, but he’s got an idea.

He doesn’t say much, but he makes sure to give you plenty of food and he’ll buy things for you and give them to you.

Honestly he’s so sweet.

Ryusui Nanami

Spend money, get bitches. Yk. (This man would hate the word bitches for sure. But I had to say this. Like side note, but he’s an advocate for the word to be offensive when leaving a man’s mouth)

Ryusui gave you thousands of drago and stepped back. He expected you to spend it, give to the economy, etc.

But you held onto it like you were gonna need it soon.

He doesn’t really know what that’s like. He’s always had lots of money.

Well, once he had a smaller allowance, but even that would be a lot to most other people. He doesn’t realize this so much, not until he sees you.

He’s confused at first.

What else is there to do in life than get all that one wants when they want it? Get your money up, keep your money up, spend your money up. Yk. The 3 pillars to life. (This is not what they are)

He gives you more money.

But you try to deny it.

He insists. Then he watches you clutch onto it like you’ll need it all in an hour.

He probably goes over to encourage you. Telling you to see things how he sees it.

And then you probably explain why you just can’t. You’re scared you’ll end up like your family was as a kid.

He begins to see what you mean, and he’ll probably spend some money on you.

“Don’t be scared. There isn’t anything to worry about money about here. Even if everything had a cost soon, I’d pay for whatever you needed. And all these people would surely do you a favor even if.”

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starwikia · 8 months ago

Text

so like are we done with the idea that james is a victim of the internet harassment mob or whatever you guys like to call it when in reality no one like forced him to be part of the public eye again. he had multiple times to disengage but he threw himself head first into the spotlight with some half assed apology where he used his dead mom, illiterate dad, and like 293 mental illnesses that he was in the right to do a widdle plagiarism but it’s not his fault! it’s everyone else’s fault for not being nice to him about it!!! how dare these people bring these issues to the public not thinking how james would feel about it! like ppl are forgetting there was notable period of time james went off air entirely. and every time he’s jumped back it’s always attempts to paint himself as the victim.

like be real for a second if anyone was weaponizing the internet harassment machine it was james somerton. he knew what he was doing when he posted that note. he knew the shit his victims would get for having the crime of (checks notes) voicing out their issues with him. he knew there’s people out there who are foaming at their mouths to use anything they can get their hands on as a “gotcha!” at hbomberguy (right wing people yes, but don’t act like it’s just them i’ve seen plenty of lefties trying to prove they’re superior to harry). they don’t give a shit about james, not really. he’s the dude who hbomb did a “hit piece” (yes that’s a term i’ve seen people use) and that’s what matters.

not to mention the writing that’s also very clearly targeting nick who’s basically cut ties with him at this point. james pushed all the burden on nick by saying it’s their fault, actually. he’s one of the co-writers and everything going to shit was nick’s fault when they had the audacity to move. james is faultless! with james still trying to monetize stolen content on the blatant lie that he’s doing this for nick’s sake as a portfolio. acting as if nick isn’t an sentient human being who could upload their own content, as if nick would even want to be associated with james at this point. this isn’t a teenager being harassed for an honest mistake, this is a 35-year old con artist who’s stolen hundreds of thousands and peddled the most vile shit as actual history but realized he was in deep shit and weaponizes very serious mental health issues as a “i’m just a poor little gay baby!! my alter ego did it!!!”

for the record if you’re among the people who tried to wash down james’ crimes as “he just did plagiarism!! it wasn’t that bad of a crime!” fuck you, man. i’m not kidding.

the fact i’ve witnessed people whitewash his acts of racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, antisemitism and misogyny (in fact i’m probably still missing a few things here), and say he’s being harassed by the internet just because he stole articles makes it so clear they have no fucking idea what they’re talking about. his shit isn’t fucking erased just bc he realized that he has to handle the consequences. he’s grasping at anything he can at this point to make sure that even if he’s not coming back, he’s sure as hell trying to take anyone he fucking can down with him.

he doesn’t get a second chance to be a content creator at this point. he doesn’t get to show himself to do better. he needs to fucking leave. and if he tries to publicly make himself the victim then he better know that he’s going to get public backlash.

if anything situation proves to me that he can never be trusted with a public platform ever again because he will immediately guilt people into feeling sorry for him.

#i’m going to be bitchy about this for the record #james somerton #hbomberguy #the funniest option is if james fakes his death like a fourth time and someone takes a pic of him in like a burger king or something.#updated i’m not 100% sure on nicks pronouns but i’m using they them just in case #update 2: the way i was proven fucking right immediately after posting this. you people are not real.

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tikosblogg · 3 months ago

Text

A Helping Hand

Part 2 Here

Summary: you’re in college, still a virgin and frustrated. You just wanna know what sex is like. Noah wants to offer his help.

Warning: oral (f receiving), fingering.

A/N: college boy Noah. HOT AF. Not proof read I apologize for any mistakes. Please enjoy.

The air in the apartment was thick with laughter and the scent of popcorn as me and my only two friends on campus lounged on the couch, binge-watching a new series. The conversation had turned to relationships—everyone was discussing their latest crushes and dating escapades.

I listened, a bit detached, nursing a twinge of envy. The thought of my virginity weighed heavily on my mind.

"I want to know what it’s like," I sighed, glancing down at my half empty drink. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."

My friends exchanged glances, and Clara leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You know, I heard about that guy on campus, Noah Sebastian. He's supposed to be amazing in bed. I’ve heard stories, you should ask him." I rolled my eyes, feeling my insides flutter at the name.

"I am not gonna ask Noah Sebastian to fuck me. I don’t want to feel like some charity case." I sighed. If He asked me, you bet your ass I’d let him. But sadly I’m also aware, that he is way out of my league. Hence why he hasn’t asked me.

I’ve been around him and his friends at parties a bunch of times. We even had a nice long conversation one time about our favorite music. Yet he always found a girl the complete opposite of me to take home.

"Come on! It’s a great way to break the ice," Layna smiled nudging me playfully. "You’d be in good hands!"

I hugged my knees to my chest. "I don’t know. He’s had plenty of chances to ask me, and he hasn’t. He isn’t interested. I’ll probably just go out and find someone at one of the bars in town.”

They both smirk at each other, before quickly changing the subject. I decide to let it go, and join their new conversation. A couple hours later, I walked them to the door, as they gathered their things to leave. Layna turned towards me, pulling me into a hug. “Please just think about asking Noah. I promise you won’t regret it.” Clara nodded, hugging me as well.

I sighed nodding my head. “Yeah yeah, I’ll think about it.” I waved them off as they drove away, making my way back into the apartment. That night I stayed up late, looking up Noah’s socials, going through his pictures like a stalker. “God why are you so hot.” I mumbled under my breath. There is noway I’m asking him.

I entered my apartment, tossing my keys onto the counter. The glow from the livingroom lamp casting a warm hue in the quiet apartment. I settled into the couch, flipping through channels aimlessly as I tried to shake off feelings of loneliness.

Each ding of my phone caught my attention, but I dismissed the notifications as my friends being typical sent: memes, inside jokes, and rants about the day.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the silence. I glanced at the clock—it was unusually late. Hesitantly, I stood up and opened the door, and my heart nearly stopped. There stood Noah, looking hot as usual.

“Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting,” he grinned, his eyes casting down, and slowly back up my body. Confusion washed over me, as I struggled to respond. "Clara and Layna sent me." He chuckled, as my face fell in shock.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I remembered our conversation from a few nights ago. “Oh… wow, um, yeah I’m sorry for… this," I stammered. "I didn’t know they’d... well, um…" I trailed off, feeling anxious and down right humiliated.

He chuckled softly, his presence magnetic, making it hard to look away. “It’s alright.”

I shifted, biting my lip, an apology spilling out. "I really didn’t mean for them to set this up. I’m just—I'm…you really don’t have to be here."

“No, I’m mean it’s okay. No pressure, but I’m glad they sent me,” he assured gently, taking a step closer. “I want to be here. And honestly? I’d love to help you.”

My heart raced as I processed his words. This impossibly sexy guy, the one everyone talked about, wanted to help me. The weight of my own inexperience settled heavily on my chest, embarrassment mixing with excitement.

“Noah, I’m really shy about all this. I haven’t—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted softly, tilting his head slightly. “We can take it slow. I want to make sure you’re comfortable. I won't do anything you don’t want to.”

His genuine tone wrapped around me like a warm blanket, easing my anxiety. “What if I mess it up, and completely embarrass myself?” I whisper, my face on fire at this point. “I promise, it’s not about perfection. It’s about enjoying the moment. And trust me, the right person makes all the difference.”

The room felt charged with tension, uncertainty melted into curiosity. I took a deep breath and gestured for him to come inside. As he stepped in, I felt a rush of disbelief. This was really happening.

Noah looked around the apartment, his gaze landing on me with an intensity that sent my heart fluttering. “So, what do you want to do first? You’re in complete control right now. We can take it slow tonight. start with the small things, and then next time we can a little further.” he smiled, his voice low and inviting.

I searched his gaze, finding kindness and patience. Next time? He wants to come back? My body fidgeted as I took a step closer. “Um I really don’t even know how to start..” I whispered, my shyness slowly overtaking me.

He smiled, and the warmth in his expression reassured me. “We can take all the time we need. Do you want me to take the lead?” His voice was low and smooth, carrying an invitation wrapped in gentle authority.

I looked up at him, his deep brown eyes searching mine, and felt a rush of warmth spread through me. My heart pounded in response, whispering its consent even before I found the words to say it. Nodding slowly, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness coil within me.

With a soft smile, Noah took my hand, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of comfort through me, as he guided me to the couch, the plush fabric a welcoming embrace as I sank into its depths. He threw a behind my head, resting it on the back of the couch. His grip remained gentle yet firm, a reminder of his steady presence.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” he assured me, his voice rich with sincerity. “And if you ever want me to stop, you just say the word, okay?” I nodded again, a small but powerful gesture, and felt a wave of relief wash over me. I was safe here with him.

He leaned closer, his hand gently cupping my cheek, sending another rush of warmth through me. Our eyes locked, and Without breaking our gaze, he began to lean in, and instinctively, I tilted my head to meet him, closing the distance.

His lips brushed softly against mine, a tentative exploration, as if tasting the sweetness of the moment. The kiss deepened gradually, shifting from tender to a more passionate embrace. I found myself melting into it.

He pulled back slightly, and I could feel my breath quicken. The warmth of his palm still lingered on my cheek, and I craved more of his touch. “You okay?” he asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and concern.

I nodded again, a smile breaking across my lips, unable to find words that could capture how I truly felt.

Noah leaned in again, claiming my lips with a newfound urgency that sent my heart racing. I surrendered to the moment, letting him lead. I melted into him, as his hand slowly crept up my thigh, squeezing gently.

A whimper escaped my lips, surprising even me, but it drew a teasing smile from him as he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in that way that made my wet core throb. His gaze was soft, and teasing an invitation to share my thoughts, and yet I felt my cheeks heat up.

With a shy nod, I felt a rush of warmth trickle through me. I was fumbling with my words, my heart racing as he challenged me to speak. “I—I…” I stuttered, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I feel really good.”

His smile widened at my confession, and he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss before trailing them down my throat. A soft moan escaped me, unexpected yet welcome, as I let my fingers find their way into his soft brown hair.

I gripped it gently, feeling the softness between my fingers, grounding me in this moment that felt unreal.

“Good? Just good?” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin, sending shivers through me. He licked, and nipped along my neck, each time igniting a fire in my veins. I could hardly keep the gasp at bay as his lips danced over sensitive spots, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“More than good,” I finally managed to reply, my voice barely above a whisper, caught between vulnerability and desire. The honesty in my words caused his teasing demeanor to shift, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something more serious.

He raised his head, his eyes locking with mine, stripping away the teasing to reveal a sincerity that made my heart flutter. “I want to make you feel amazing,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly over my inner thigh, so close to where I really needed him. “Tell me what you want.”

His words hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of them. My breath hitched, and I felt a blend of excitement and insecurity. I wanted him to keep kissing me, to keep this connection alive. “Just—keep doing that,” I whispered, motioning towards his hand on my thigh, my voice cracking just a bit. “But…but higher.” I whispered.

Noah grinned, a spark of mischief igniting in his eyes. His hand slid up the rest of the way, his thumb pressing directly on my swollen clit through my shorts. “Right there?” His voice was low, and teasing.

His eyes never leaving my face. I let out a whine, nodding my head, as he once more dove back in, planting soft kisses all over my neck and jaw, eliciting soft sounds from me that filled the otherwise quiet living room. With every kiss, and stroke of his thumb, I felt myself unraveling, losing the grip of shyness and diving deeper into the growing intimacy between us.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against my skin, his words swirling around us that made my heart race. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Noah slips from the couch next to me, moving with a sense of purpose that sends a flutter of anticipation through me.

He kneels between my thighs, the warmth of his presence enveloping me as he gently pushes me back until my back rests against the plush fabric of the couch. Pure excitement courses through my veins.

“You want me to take these off?” he asks, his voice low and smooth. I nod my head, unable to form words, my heart racing at the thought of what might happen next. There’s a moment of stillness, as if time itself is holding its breath in anticipation.

With careful hands, Noah reaches for my shorts, and slowly pulls them down, and off. There’s a sense of vulnerability, a rawness in the air. My breath catches, and I can feel the pounding of my heart echoing in the silence that surrounds us.

He gazes at me, his eyes sweeping over my form, a mixture of admiration and desire illuminating his features.

Once my shorts are gone, his eyes land on my undeniably soaked panties, and I feel a surge of warmth flood my cheeks.

There’s something in the way he looks at me – not just with hunger, but with a deep appreciation that makes me feel confident. The moment stretches, electric and charged, and I can see the unspoken questions dancing in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer now, checking in as if the weight of the moment bears heavily on him too. I nod again, feeling any nervousness fade slowly. His presence is grounding, and I find comfort in his gentle demeanor.

He takes his time, studying me as if he’s tracing the shape of my form with his eyes. A shy smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, and I can’t help but feel a sense of empowerment.

“You’re soaked baby,” he groans. His thumb stroking down the wet patch of my panties, mixed with the pet name, sending flutters through my stomach, igniting a warmth that spreads throughout my body.

He leans in closer, and I can feel the heat radiating from him, hitting my aching cunt. Our gazes lock, before he grips my thighs, pulling them further apart. His lips ghosting my core before placing the softest kiss against it. The soft action sending a desperate whine flying from my lips.

I looked down at him, my breath hitching as he looked up from between my thighs. His deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief and affection, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The vulnerability in that moment was intoxicating.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, sending shivers down my spine.

I felt another soft whine escape my lips, a plea both innocent and desperate. "Please Noah... take them off," I managed to murmur, the words barely forming as they left my lips.

Noah’s smile widened, illuminating his features with a warmth that made my heart flutter. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on my thigh. The sensation was electric, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

There was a playful glimmer in his eyes as he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of my panties, moving slowly as if savoring every second. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, the anticipation building with each deliberate movement.

Time seemed to slow as he carefully pulled them off, exposing my wet folds to the cool air of the room.

His touch was featherlight, and every instinct in me screamed to draw him closer, to press deeper into the moment. I offered a shy smile, nodding my head encouraging him to continue. Noah’s gaze held mine as he removed the last barrier between us, dropping them to the floor beside the couch.

"Fuck baby," he whispered, his voice a husky murmur that sent a thrill coursing through me.

He bent forward, wrapping his hand softly around my throat, before pulling me forward into a messy kiss. His tongue licked into my mouth, tasting every inch of it. He pulled away, releasing my throat.

His lips dropped down trailing soft kisses along my inner thigh, as his fingers reached up softly rubbing up and down my slit, making whine his name. He paused, looking up at me with that beautiful teasing smile. “You like that baby?” I nodded, my hips bucking slightly.

“Please Noah.” He laughed softly, before slowly reaching up, shoving two of his long fingers, into my mouth. I licked, and sucked on them until they were covered in my spit.

He bit his bottom lip, as he watched me before slowly pulling them out.

Without another word, he ran his wet finger down my slit, and back up softly circling my swollen clit. He watched my reactions closely, with a small smile.

He slid them back down before slowly sinking his middle finger deep inside me. I let out a loud moan, gripping the couch cushions beneath me. “Feel good baby?” He groaned, like he was experiencing just as much pleasure, while doing it.

I slowly ground my hips against his finger nodding my head. “Fuck…yes” he nodded before pulling it out, and shoving in his ring finger in with it. I whimpered at the stretch.

His fingers reaching deeper inside of me than I ever could. He pumped his fingers a little faster, watching my face for any discomfort. I was losing my mind in pleasure. If his fingers felt this amazing, I could only imagine what his dick feels like.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asked, his fingers never slowing down. “Fuck Noah please…please make me cum.” His usual sweet, and playful demeanor suddenly turned dark, as I met his eyes.

His fingers crooked up, hitting that perfect spot, driving me wild. He leaned down, placing a kiss on my throbbing clit, before running his tongue flat from his fingers all the way up to my clit before sucking it into his mouth.

Hips stuttered, as my hands flew to the top of his head. I gripped his hair, tugging on it as he moaned against me, sending vibrations through my clit.

He released with a pop, before flicking it with his tongue softly. “Oh fuck Noah please, right there right there.” I was babbling nonsense over and over, lost in the pleasure of his tongue and fingers.

Noah never let up, pumping his fingers faster. He pressed his tongue flat against my clit, before shaking his head side to side. I instantly lost it, my orgasm hitting its peak. Noah slowed down, and kept a steady pace, and his tongue and fingers continued fucking me through it.

“Fuck baby you taste so good.” He groaned, trying to keep his composure. My thighs shook before closing around his head. When I finally came down, he pulled his lips away, stilling his fingers. I laid there catching my breath, as he sent a proud smile my way. I couldn’t help but smile and blush, realizing what just happened.

I quickly covered my face, laughing softly. He slowly pulled his fingers out, reaching up to remove my hands, before pulling me into another kiss. When he pulled away, he tapped my lips with the two fingers that were just deep inside of me. I opened up, letting him press them against my tongue.

I softly moaned around them, as pulled them out, shoving them between his own lips, cleaning them. I could have came again at the sight. He finally stood back up, sitting back on the couch next to me.

His hand softly gripped my jaw, turning my face towards him “Was that okay?” He smiled, but his question was genuine. The smile on his face was infectious, I couldn’t help but smile myself. “It was amazing.” He let out a soft laugh, leaning down bringing me into another kiss. This kiss was slower but just has needy as the rest. His teeth bit down on my bottom lip, and pulled away letting it pop back in place. “Yeah? You just wait til next.”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sabastian smut #badomensimagines #noahsebastiancult #bad omens cult #imagines #bad omens band #bad omens smut #nick folio #joakim jolly karlsson #nicholas folio

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n0tamused · 4 months ago

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Could I request Jiyan's s/o taking ng care of him while he's sick?

A/n: Sorry for waiting so long on this, I'm slowly making my way through the request now. I hope you enjoy this! <3

Contents: Jiyan x gn reader, Jiyan is called husband(hehe), sweet nicknames from Jiyan to reader, fluff, grammar mistakes probably

“My dear, I have told you time and time over-” A cough rippled through him, dry and scratching at his throat raw. Jiyan was rather adamant at getting his message across, however, and when the cough settled with you soothing up his back with your palm, he turned to you again “I don’t need pampering” he said, but his flushed face and sweaty forehead told another tale. One more true than he would tell it.

“You’ll sooner convince me the sky's neon yellow rather than that - although I’d hardly call it pampering, Jiyan” you told him briskly, fed up with this demeanor. Just this morning he had snuck out of bed to take care of himself, and were it not for his stumbling he might’ve gotten away with it. It was past breakfast now, and you had not only cooked for him the most rich broth you knew of, but you managed to break the feverish General into following your orders, although not without some remark from him. “Now sit back, I’m going to bring you something to cool you off with” this time your voice is softer, your eyes mellowing out as you reach out to tuck the stray hairs from his face, not missing the way he softly sighed. His golden eyes half lidded and heavy, tired to the bone, but all his bones knew was battle. You couldn’t fault him for trying to do it on his own nor for being so stubborn.

“Fine..” Jiyan replied with yet another heavy sigh that deflated his lungs, slumping his figure against the bedframe he rested against. His heavy lids fell over his eyes, and when he next opened them you were dabbing his sweaty forehead with a cool washcloth. He must have dozed off, he thinks to himself, blinking languidly as his eyes drink in you like honey, too thick to be drunk swiftly, yet not lacking for sweetness.

“What is it?” you ask him as he keeps on staring, something heavy about his eyes bringing your attention to him, for a moment granting him that sweet treat of your gaze on his own. He takes a deep breath in and then exhales, his words failing him.

He doesn’t want to touch you either, as the fever filled him from his head down to the tips of his fingers, and any touch would mean to him as if he had cut you. He wets his lips with a quick dart of his tongue before he shakes his head, all his movement slow as if he weighs twice more than he did. “Nothing..”

You scoff at him, not taking his words seriously. “It seems as if the fever has gotten to you more than I thought. Has it eaten away at your brain?” you shake your head as you dip the cloth in the cold water besides you before sliding it across his cheek and down to his neck. At that he gave a hiss, the cold cloth a stark contrast to his burning skin. It sent his muscles stiffening and begging for the offending feeling to be removed, but Jiyan knew it was for the better as he grit his teeth through it.

Sighing after you removed the cloth from his neck and collarbone, you moved to cup his hands and bring them around the cloth, hoping the coolness of it will get to him and ease his fever. You’ve given him medicine plenty, food as well, drinks he would grow sick of even more if you insisted he drink anything, so you moved to these small things to help him.

“You’re doing too much, my love..” he rasps, looking at you as you help hold his hands around the cloth.

“I am not doing too much. I am taking care of my husband..” you told him, tone easy and undertones of affection hugging close, apparent to Jiyan’s ears. It made him chuckle, shaking his chest that felt as if it would cave in on him if he dared laugh more, but he laughed regardless in face of your attempts to not seem too dotting. Yet you failed enormously, showing your worry in the most quiet ways of being loud. Hovering over him, never being too far. It was amusing at least.

“Right.. is that what you’d call what you’ve been doing in the last hour or so? You’re acting as if I’ve escaped famine and I’m dying in your arms.. My love, I will be alright. I just need a long rest, that is all..” he tries to reason with you, to ease your worries if nothing else. He removes one hand from your hold and puts it over yours. It’s warm, radiating heat like a hearth nearby, your own hand seems nearly cold in comparison.

“Then how about you stop moving so much, just.. lay back, and go sleep. I’ll go fix you something for dinner”

“Beloved, I’ve eaten too much already, just half an hour ago you had me eat another plate of that broth, and it is not even 12 o’clock... But I’ll rest, alright?”

You sigh at him, a touch irritated but you appreciate his attempts to help you too in your worried stupor to help him. “Fine. But if I see you or hear you shuffling about, you’ll come to regret it. You’ll hate me more than this fever of yours” This time it is you cracking small smiles, although you turn your head and tilt your nose into the air, acting ignorant of the smile.

Jiyan smiles back, nodding his head. “I hear you loud and clear..” he responds, voice mellow even more.

“In the meantime.. I will go out and run an errand or two. Maybe stop by the market, bring you something sweeter than a broth to eat before you complain that you are tired of it”

Jiyan knows there is no stopping you now. If you decided to go pluck lemon grass from the top of the highest mountain, he knew he’d be helpless to stop you. “That sounds fine with me. But don’t stay too long in the sun, unless you want to lay in this sickbed next to me”

“I’ll be alright. The sun can’t get to me so easily. Now, you rest” reluctantly you peel your hands away from his grasp, leaving the washcloth between his fingers and you leave the bucket of cool water close by too, should he feel the need for it. You lean closer, and before he could reject it, although he lacked strength for it, you kissed his temple and stood upright. His eyes followed your movement, both grateful for the kiss and on the verge of scolding you.

“Sleep well, Jiyan. I’ll be back soon”

#-dragon.treasure #jiyan #jiyan wuthering waves #jiyan imagine #jiyan fluff #jiyan x reader #jiyan x you #jiyan x yn #jiyan fanfiction #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves fluff #wuwa x reader #wuwa jiyan #wuthering waves jiyan x reader #wuwa x you #fluff

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earthry · 1 year ago

Note

Can i ask for papas who told reader to not get attached to them and had secret relationship, until they realised 'oh... I think i was wrong' ?(bonus point for them being jealous, because another sibling flirting with reader)

Thank you and sorry if i bother you🥺❤

Of course you can!! Thank you for the prompt it was so delicious aslkdf it kind of got away from me but hopefully this was what you were looking for 💕

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, manipulation (not from any papas), happy endings for all regardless

Primo

Primo is gentle about telling you not to get attached.

"Don't get too comfortable, little flower." "Remember my rosebud, this is temporary." "We are not exclusive, my morningstar."

He thinks he's doing a kindness by always reminding you that things between the two of you are casual, making sure you're aware that you are just one of many in his garden of plenty.

I think he’d be a little more aware of his growing feelings than any of his brothers, but still catches it too late. By the time he realizes he can’t bring himself to call things off or put some distance between the two of you.

He realized just how much he loves having you by his side. Not just as a lover, but as a companion and a friend. Someone to talk about plants and books to, someone who cares about him enough to swing by the garden often with a snack and water to hydrate when he’s been working under the sun for too long.

The first time you fall into bed together since his realization, he doesn’t remind you about the nature of your relationship, and you’re too nervous to ask until after. He’s cleaned up and slips under the covers with you before pulling you into his arms — he probably doesn’t do this too often because it feels vulnerable. You feel your heart pounding and timidly ask him what’s going on.

“I think I’ve made a grave mistake.” You stiffen and he soothes you, “Not you, never you, tesoro.”

He admits his feelings for you, and you get teary and blubber that you feel the same and he asks you for your forgiveness, taking your hand in his and pressing the softest, most gentle kiss to the back of it.

You two haven’t quite made it official yet, wanting to ease into things naturally— however when he sees a sibling-in-sin flirting with you boldly, he steps in with a growl, the most aggressive you’ve ever seen him before.

“Perhaps you weren’t aware, but here at the ministry, we keep filthy hands off what isn’t ours.” He has a possessive arm around your waist and leans into to brush his lips against your brow.

“I’m sorry I’m late, my petal.” His voice is so much softer when he addresses you, “Is this stronzo bothering you?”

The sibling-of-sin quickly stammers their apologies and scampers off, and before you can really even process what just happened, his lips are on yours. He kisses you hungrily, claiming you as his in the open courtyard where everyone can see.

When he eventually pulls back, your lips are red and swollen to his satisfaction and you give him a look to which he gives you another kiss but it's a much more tame peck this time. "Mi dispiace amore mio. I just couldn't help myself."

Secondo

Secondo was your first-- something you gave to him freely despite his clear warning before taking you to bed.

Still you had your sights set and the idea of taking your innocence was too delicious to Secondo to decline. You weren't the first one he'd corrupted, and you wouldn't be the last (as painful as it is to think about it, you're very keenly aware of this fact).

For your first time, he was the perfect lover, considerate and slow, coaxing you to open up for him in ways you never thought to give to another man. He takes you like you're lovers and it does nothing for the growing feelings you've been having for him as of late except now you know what it feels like to be wrapped up in his arms, now you know how it feels to have his lips on yours, how it feels to take him inside you, to feel so full of him that you see stars.

For him, you're just another conquest, another sibling-in-sin he's deflowered and another body to pull into bed on lonely nights. He usually doesn't think much of it. He has all his bases covered after all. He makes sure of it, reminding his partners that they are not the only ones, that they are here to have fun.

He may not party as much as he did in his youth, but when he did there would always be someone new on his arm and someone new he'd take to bed.

In a way he knows it's also to protect himself, he knows that most if not all of them are vying for Papa's attention, for Papa's favor. Not Secondo's.

He knows it's the Ministry's fault primarily, for twisting him into this shape, for building such a reputation in his image to where he is now. But despite the resentment he feels he can't help the desires that are conditioned into him for this lifestyle.

He doesn't let people in easily as a result, but with you it was almost inevitable.

You had been so shy when he had taken you that first time. Not that you weren't eager, but he was so used to other siblings being sly and seductive, wanting him to do the honors so they would have a story to give when all was over.

You however, were so anxious and timid as he laid you out onto the bed that he couldn't help but reassure you. At first he thought perhaps it was an act, but judging how tight you were wound up, he knew you had to be genuinely nervous. He was extra gentle with you, more than he had ever been with anyone before, and oh, the small smiles you gave in his direction when he comforted you were addicting.

He doesn't normally do repeats, doesn't like taking the same person to bed more than a handful of times but with you he just couldn't help himself.

There was something new to learn about you each time, and soon your relationship evolved to something more than just in the bedroom.

It started small; a book you quoted he recognizes that turns into an hour long conversation about the author's greatest and not so greatest works. Stopping by his office during the day to offer coffee or a short break to discuss literature.

He starts looking forwards to your visits, to those little moments before or after he's taken you to bed. But one thing he's always kept firm on is that you never stay the night.

It's his one rule he's maintained for years to keep feelings and sex separate and it's always worked. You don't particularly know about this rule of his however, so when you finally ask if you can stay the night with him, you feel like you've been brought back to earth with his rejection.

You only have yourself to blame really. He had always said from the very beginning not to get attached. It was your fault for thinking that after the two of you had gotten a little closer that maybe, just maybe things had changed. You were wrong.

Secondo feels terrible for telling you no, but he has his rules for a reason. However, that night as he lays in bed alone he can't help imagining what it would be like to hold you in his arms, to tuck you against his chest and feel your heartbeat firm against his.

Secondo is a smart man, and he knows when he's made a mistake. He resolves to make it up to you in the morning, to pull you aside and set things straight. It had taken time for him to realize how he felt for you but now that he does, he doesn't intent on letting you go.

Unfortunately for him, he can't seem to find you all day, and in the evening he asks around and manages to find some of your friends who tell him that you had not been feeling good.

He feels a pang of guilt for being so harsh with you last night, and asks where your room is.

When he finds you, you're being comforted by a sibling-in-sin. You've been crying on and off all day and right now you're in one of your low moods as the sibling holds you in their arms.

"You should forget about him, he doesn't deserve you." The sibling soothes, "He doesn't care about you like I do, I would treat you so well."

Yeah, Secondo does not like that one bit. First of all, the possessiveness he feels seeing you in someone else's arms, but also manipulation in the form of comfort to someone at their lowest is something he doesn't condone.

Things happen fast and suddenly you're in his arms pressed against his chest as he holds you bridal style. The sibling looks shocked and a little shameful when Secondo sneers at him. "Cazzo di merda, I don't think so. If I ever see you near them again, I will tear you to pieces from limb to limb." His mismatched eyes flash dangerously, and the sibling immediately books it.

He then looks down to you in his arms, his gaze softening as he takes in your red eyes and puffy cheeks. "Amore mio," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "We have much to talk about, including my apology for being so foolish last night."

He takes you to his room where sits against the headboard with you still tucked in his arms. He doesn't let go or put you down even once.

"Mi dispiace, tesoro. I should not have said no last night."

You are quiet for a long time, and he can't help the nervousness that begins to crawl under his skin. "Yeah, you were kind of an asshole." You finally say.

He can't help the chuckle that escapes but agrees with you. "Mm, si I was an asshole, wasn't I? Will you allow me to try making it up to you, amore mio? We can start over, do this right."

"Start... over?" You sound hesitant, unsure what he means until he kisses your temple again.

"Si, although start anew is probably a better term." He reaches to take your hand in his before pressing a kiss to the back. "I promise to treat you right this time, as a proper lover, a proper partner.”

Your cheeks tint pink at the gesture and you nod slowly before cautiously asking, “Okay but… will we be exclusive? Cause I don’t think I can if we aren’t. I can’t… I don’t want to be just another one of your playthings.”

“Tesoro, yes of course we’ll be exclusive. You are not just one of my playthings, you are so much more. You are my heart, and I need my heart to live, si?”

He presses a gentle kiss to your temple and guides your hand over his heart, “Amo te e nessun altro.”

Terzo

I love Terzo to bits and this got a little angsty on his side. I hope I didn't make it too OOC but please enjoy!

With Terzo, it's not a surprise that he has no shortage of lovers. Especially favorites, he has many and amongst them is you. It was the first thing he told you before he bedded you for the first time: don't get attached. And honestly? You knew better.

Still didn't keep you from falling helplessly in love with him, though.

For Terzo, it was rare that anyone ever stayed the night; once they came for what they wanted, they would leave. When he was a younger man it was a devastating realization to make, that he would only ever be an object of seduction, only ever be a conquest and never a true lover. Now though, he's worked hard to build those walls around him, numb himself from the knowledge of knowing to never get attached.

"Do not get attached," was not for you, it was never for you-- you'll come to realize. It was for him. A reminder each time he brings another eager sibling-of-sin to bed, a caution each time a fan offered him 'a night he'll never forget'.

The first night you stay, Terzo writes off as a fluke. A blessing, but a fluke nonetheless. You had fully expected him to say no, to ask you to leave as always. Instead, he had looked a little caught off guard, an expression that rarely crossed his features. "Um... stay the night? Si, of course-- of course! Make yourself comfortable, caro, I'll be just a moment. I get towel to wipe us off, si?"

You don't really think much of it when he seems not to know how to lay next to you, unsure where to put his arms to sleep comfortably, and you quite blatantly ask him if he's done this before. Which he immediately lies and says yes, and then deflates when you don't look convinced and mumbles that no, not really. He hasn't done this before.

You're sad for him-- and you make it a mission to give him the best snuggle session of his life.

And honestly? Just one time and Terzo's completely hooked on you. He doesn't get his hopes up (he knows better than that now), but he does quietly tell you that he hopes that the two of you could maybe do this again sometime. You smile and nod, and ask him if he's free tonight and once more there's that surprised look.

It doesn't become a nightly thing, but it almost does. The first time you come to his room before bed, asking him if you could sleep with him that night, his eyes get large and wide. There was no sex that night, just him in your arms as you showed him what spooning was (he was the little spoon of course).

Months later he's hopeful but too anxious to ask you if the two of you were more than just friends with benefits. In the end, it takes jealousy for him to finally do what he's been wanting to do for a long time.

You're in the cafeteria talking with another sibling-of-sin that is obviously trying to chat you up; leaning in close, eyes flickering to your lips and down your body.

Terzo feels his body get hot, his jaw set straight and firm. He knows he's jealous, he can feel the white hot heat that runs through his veins as someone else tries to take what is his. He manages to stay calm enough not to storm over, talking himself down in his head when movement catches his eye.

The sibling flirting with you makes a comment, and points to a smudge of sauce on your cheek. You look confused and they say something, which you wipe your hand over your mouth, but not quite getting the sauce.

Terzo is moving before the sibling even finishes wiping your cheek with their thumb, his hand curling tight around the sibling's wrist and yanking them away from you.

"Keep your hands to yourself, si?" He snarls, "She's mine."

The cafeteria goes silent and the sibling apologizes very quickly, blabbering about how they didn't realize you were taken, by papa no less, and promising to never bother you again. They flee and stiffly Terzo tells all the onlookers to go back to their own business.

As conversation begins to pick up again and his rage boils down, he feels a flash of embarrassment and shame-- turning to you to apologize for so many different things.

Your lips are on him before he can even get words out, kissing him feverishly and without abandon. He whimpers a little, his hands flying up to hold your waist, gasping for air when you finally pull back.

"Mm, perhaps we should take this to the bedroom, si?" He's breathless, looking down at you and you grin, running your fingers against the soft fabric of his robe. You give him his answer to which he nods with hope in his eyes.

"Sounds like a plan-- but I don't share either, okay?"

Copia

Ah. Copia. My scrunkly little rat man. My little meow meow. My itty bitty blorbo.

You had gotten to know him before he was a cardinal. I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers for Copia specifically for some reason so here we are again.

If felt very much that it was the two of you against the world back then. Both of you young adults starting from the bottom trying to climb up to the top for at least some kind of recognition.

There are countless nights spent in his room, squeezed onto that tiny bed of his and lounging around, watching him play his video games. Sitting on the floor and fiddling with guitars and sheet music. Leaning against the door frame as he ran around trying to look for a pair of matching socks (that weren't one of the ridiculously patterned ones you gifted to him for Christmas each year) for a formal event.

Perhaps it was only natural for you two to fall into bed together, helping each other blow off steam. Copia had suggested it; albeit a little shyly and awkwardly. It could help relieve stress, besides it wasn't as if there was anyone at the abby that interested either of you anyways (though that was probably a sign).

And what were you to do? Say no to the man you loved?

So you two became friends with benefits; though the friend part always seemed to come first and foremost. You knew you were important to Copia and that was enough. At least at that time you had thought it would be enough.

When he became cardinal, the two of you got to spend less and less time together. He was often on errands or doing work for Sister Imperator. Still, you would occasionally slip into his room to curl around him for comfort and he would hold you close and murmur how he was happy to see you.

When he became papa, that's when things between the two of you started going downhill. You were proud and happy for him, but you hadn't expected him to change. They weren't huge changes; deep down you knew he would always be the same Copia you've known, but there were changes that you didn't know how to handle.

For Copia, it was the power rush. The idea that people were falling over themselves to sleep with him, to be with him. Though it had always been no strings attached, for the first time you were beginning to experience what it was like to not be the only one in his bed, in his life. For Papa, it was exciting, thrilling. For you, it was lonely, confusing, and heartbreaking.

At least it was a little easier to handle when he was on tour, when you didn't have to physically see him each and every day. But the way your timelines and dashboards would fill to the brim of updates, videos, clips and fans gushing about him and their latest ritual; some days you couldn't even bring yourself to pick up your phone. You didn't want to see footage of the most recent girl he cirice'd, you didn't want to hear the latest raunchy things he's flirted at the audience with.

The two of you still messaged occasionally; though it always felt surface level now. You messaged as often as you could but he rarely would hold any solid conversation. Perhaps he had felt you were too moody when it came to talking about his other flings, when it came to talking about the papa business. Regardless, he didn't reach out often anymore.

At some point, you decided it was perhaps time to move on and began looking into dating seriously. You hadn't really found anyone that interested you, anyone that didn't immediately make you think of how much you wished they were someone else (a certain rat loving dork).

Copia missed you. Every night of tour he would think of you. He would stare at his phone, stare at your messages and think and think and not know what to say. Things had become awkward and tense between the two of you since he became papa; and he knows its because of him. He just couldn't resist the taste of what it felt like being wanted for once (that's a lie and he knows it, he knows you have always wanted him). He was such an idiot, so full of himself, so high off of his newfound fame and achievements that he threw everything else out the door. That he might as well have thrown you out too. So. He had no idea what to say.

"I miss you?" "I wish you were here?" "I'm sorry I slept with other people, it felt like cheating on you even though I said no strings attached?" "I fucked a girl so hard last night she passed out but by satana I wished it was you?"

You were on another first dates of many first dates (that usually stayed first dates) when Copia and his ghouls returned shortly from the European tour. You had done your best to ignore the updates of when he would return; focusing on your date instead.

Just like the rest of the dates you went on, you weren't entirely that interested in this sibling-in-sin that had asked you out. The date wasn't going great in your opinion, but they apparently thought differently because as you were half heartedly trying to respond to some comment they made, they pulled you in for a kiss.

For a second, you didn't move out of shock and by the time your brain had caught up to what was happening, someone else was yanking the sibling off you, tossing them to the ground unceremoniously.

Copia looks furious. Despite being dressed in his casual sweats like he usually does on days off, he's intimidating with the low growl he throws in the direction of the sibling.

He takes a seat in the recently vacated spot next to you, leaning in to snake his arms around you, pulling you into his lap and against your chest.

"W-We're on a date, what the fuck?" The sibling has the balls to stand up to the papa, who gives him a cold glare.

"Chi se ne frega, not anymore you're not," His voice is rougher than you remember, and you shiver a little in his arms. He doesn't seem to take note, too preoccupied in staring down his competition. "Get lost."

You don't really hear what the sibling has to say in response, nor do you really pay attention to where they stomp off to. The only thing you're keenly aware of is the way your back is pressed flush against Copia's chest. You can feel not only your heart pounding, but his too. As soon as the sibling is out of sight, he relaxes against you, his arms loosening a little but still firm.

You're confused to say the least-- unsure what just happened, unsure why he's holding you like he never wants to let go. You feel him gently brush his lips against your temple before murmuring to you.

"Mi dispiace, amore mio. I was a fool, a complete coglione. Please forgive me."

Your heart flutters in your chest, hope unfurling its wings like a butterfly. "C-Copia."

"Amo te e solo te. Prometto." He turns you in his arms and you go willingly. He leans so that your foreheads touch, his eyes meeting yours.

"No one else?" You whisper. He nods a little, forgetting for a moment that your foreheads are connected, bumping into you a little and causing you to giggle. The sound of your joy seems to drain any tension left in him and he whispers back, breathlessly.

"No one else, tesoro. Just you."

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seoulmatez · 8 months ago

Text

— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑜𝓈𝒶𝓁 ౨ৎ

miya osamu x reader. 3.9k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ secrecy ﾉ misunderstandings

synopsis: after accidentally finding out about your boyfriend's plan to propose, you anxiously await the moment.

that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why—

the words have been playing on repeat in your head ever since they slipped past atsumu’s lips. you could tell he was apologetic for not only the mistake he made in revealing his brother’s business but also for keying you in on something you weren’t meant to be aware of. despite his profuse and plentiful “sorry”s, it has been impossible for you to not think about osamu’s impending proposal.

even less so now that you’re standing outside his restaurant.

the last time you’d been relatively nervous at or near onigiri miya was when you were stationed on the bench and waiting for him to close up for your first date. time passed by excruciatingly slowly as you peeked over your shoulder every couple of minutes to gauge whether or not he would be out any time soon. you’d been inside the establishment only a few hours earlier with some friends who wouldn’t shut up about how cute the guy with the black cap was. you couldn’t blame them; you thought the same thing. which is why you were so surprised when what you thought was harmless flirting with the entire table led to him pulling you aside and asking you to hang out that night.

it was an impulsive decision for you to say yes, but you don’t regret it in the slightest. the happiest two years of your life came as a result of your spontaneity. the nostalgia of that moment hits you at full force as you stand tentatively at the entrance of the restaurant, patrons entering with excitement and exiting with content smiles. the kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering around in your belly feels the exact same it had that first night you spent with him.

you can’t loiter around forever, though, as you only have so much time before your coworkers are expecting you back with lunch. with a stabilizing sigh, you push the door open, the bell above it ringing to announce the arrival of another.

part of you is expecting osamu to welcome you at the door, after all, it isn’t rare for him to be running the host podium. though, instead of being greeted by a familiar face, a girl sporting a black apron is seating the growing line of visitors.

you never know where you can find your boyfriend at any given moment—he hops between helping out in the kitchen, handling business in his office, and even waiting tables; which is what he seems to be busy with today. you always thought he preferred spending his hours in the back working with the food, but he’s surprisingly adept at socializing with customers. that much is evident by the easy smile playing at his lips while he converses with a group of older women just to the left of where you’re currently positioned.

you’re close enough to pick up on most of the exchange. he’s dropping off the bill and collecting plates as they dote on him—going back and forth about how helpful and kind he had been while servicing them. a smile of your own stretches across your lips as you listen to their overt praise of your boyfriend. you tell him how amazing he was all the time, but he deserves to hear it from other people, too.

“a handsome gentleman like you oughta be married by now.” one of the women points at his ringless finger as he reaches for her empty cup.

your ears perk up at the lady’s words. to them, it must be hard to believe that a successful business owner with a personality likable to all isn’t settled down already. you wait in anticipation for his reply.

“yeah.” he breathily laughs—not with ease; more bashful than anything. “i’m working on that.”

you can pick up the distant laughter from the women that sounds farther away than it truly is. you never doubted it when atsumu told you, but hearing it from osamu himself makes it so much more real. too focused on your thoughts, you don’t feel the presence of someone beside you.

“hey.” you almost jump at the sudden voice but the familiar feel of arms wrapping around you and soft lips pressing to your cheek stops you. he must have finished up his chat while you were lost in your thoughts.

“hi.” you smile, hoping it doesn’t appear too strained. you can’t think back on a time where it had felt awkward to be around osamu but you’re beginning to think that now might mark the first. as much as you want to remain your normal and composed self, the task is proving to be difficult.

“lunch run?” he asks, pulling away from you but keeping one arm wrapped around your waist.

“mhm,” you hum.

he tells you that he’ll grab your order so you don’t have to wait any longer in the line. you chew at your lip as you gaze nowhere in particular in an attempt to think about anything but the proposal you should be oblivious to. osamu is back in no time, placing the to-go bag in your hand and sending you off with another kiss.

the bell rings again as you depart from the restaurant. as if your mind wasn’t already in the gutter, you have something new to dwell on for the rest of the day.

ᡣ𐭩

the aroma of breakfast cooking typically rouses you from your slumber on saturday mornings, but rather than waking to the scent of a freshly cooked meal, the hum of the television from the next room works as your alarm. wiping any lingering sleep from your eyes and tossing the comforter aside, you stand up and stroll down the hall to see what osamu is up to. through slightly bleary vision, you catch sight of him sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his eyes trading off between looking at the flat screen and the screen of his laptop. it’s not often that he handles work matters outside his office and on the occasion that he does bring business home, he usually hunkers down in the guest room that serves as a workroom so he won’t get distracted.

“good morning,” you call from behind the couch. you lean over the back and squint your eyes to get a closer look at his laptop. “whatcha looking at?”

tilting his head back, osamu flashes you a bright smile. his hair is messy and unbrushed and your hands are itching to neaten the brunette strands. he pats the space on the floor beside him. “come see.”

you round the cushioned furniture and plop down next to osamu. you wriggle around a bit before you’re comfortably pressed against his side. the sound of the tv playing some competitive cooking show fills the otherwise quiet room. with a satisfied sigh, you finally look at the tab pulled up on osamu’s computer.

“houses?” you clear your throat but it’s too late to take back the crack that breaks the word.

a hand runs lazily up and down your side as osamu nods.

“how come? i thought you liked your apartment.” you cross your arms and chew at the inside of your cheek. you spend more time at his place than your own and osamu often calls his apartment yours—the two of you are practically living together. and you love it, being able to wake up beside him and welcome him home after a long day, but the thought of buying a house makes you shiver. the nagging at the back of your mind that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore was resurfacing.

“i do,” he agrees easily. “but don’t you want to find a place to call a home of our own?”

“well, yeah…” at the beginning of your relationship, you could only have dreamed of this moment; house hunting with osamu. the thought made you giddy; picturing how beautiful your yard would look lined with colorful flowers, thinking about all the meals you and osamu could make in a spacious kitchen, imagining what the rooms would look like filled with photos and belongings of your own—envisioning a happy life with him. now that you’re getting a taste of the experience, you can’t help but think about his plan to propose. if he’s already searching the market for houses, it must mean that you’re quickly approaching his proposal. there’s no time to enjoy what’s right in front of you when you’re too preoccupied thinking about osamu popping the question.

“hey.” he smooths a hand over your hair and squishes your cheeks together with his other. osamu hates seeing your eyebrows knit together in a frown. he can’t be sure as to why you look so troubled, but he does know that he’d do anything to get your mind off of whatever is bothering you—even if that thing is the window displaying images of houses for sale. his lips meet your puckered ones in a quick kiss before he continues. “no need to get the jitters just yet. we’re just scouting, nothing serious.”

it’s clear that he caught onto your discomfort and his words are an attempt at ridding you of it. just because you’re feeling awkward doesn’t mean you have to put a damper on osamu’s hopeful mood. and he’s right; it would take a lot more than a couple hours on a saturday morning to find a house that the both of you were happy with. there’s no harm in just looking. you nod with a grin, “nothing serious.”

“but,” he draws out the vowel, “i have been waiting for you to get up so i could hear your thoughts about this kitchen.” he clicks over to the picture showing off the kitchen of the listed house. “what do you think? pretty amazing, right?”

you won’t let your nerves ruin what is supposed to be an exciting milestone for you and your boyfriend. and how can you deny the man with sparkles of anticipation in his eyes?

“if you like it, i love it.”

ᡣ𐭩

spacing out is your new normal. it happens much more often than it ever did before a couple weeks ago. you’ll be at work, typing away on your keyboard, and your mind will drift. the next time you look at the document you’re working on, it’s filled with your written thoughts about being a spouse rather than the report you’re meant to be filling out. you’ll stare at your hands while loading the washing machine with dirty laundry, imagining what your ring finger would look like adorned with a metal band. it’s only when you go to transfer the wet clothes to the dryer that you realize you accidentally mixed colors with the whites. the growing number of mishaps have you wishing you were still gleefully unaware of what’s causing you to internally rush osamu to hurry up and bend down on one knee. though, you don’t blame osamu for your wandering mind—how could you? it’s not his fault that his brother blabbed.

your life would be a lot easier if atsumu had a filter and kept his mouth shut. you had let him off the hook because his apology seemed sincere, but the moment that ring is resting easily on your fourth finger, he’ll be getting a mouthful of choice words for causing you so much unnecessary stress.

even now, on what’s meant to be a relaxing walk with osamu, you’re too distracted to enjoy the cool breeze gently blowing against your face and the company of your boyfriend. the warmth of osamu’s hand enveloping yours is the only thing anchoring you to your environment, which is why you gasp when he tugs your arm to keep you from walking any further. you stumble back on your feet, glancing over to osamu to see why he stopped you so abruptly. you aren’t able to ask before he starts kneeling down.

it’s as if time froze.

oh god, is he doing it here? now? in the middle of the sidewalk? of all the scenarios you had run through during restless nights, you had come to the conclusion that a public proposal was the least likely; osamu is an intimate man and you figured he wouldn’t want to make a scene. but more than that, he’d want the event to be exclusive to the two of you—no spectators or wandering eyes, something private; a memory that belonged to you and you only. the shock of not only his proposal but the execution leaves you reeling. heart thumping wildly in your chest, you will your eyes to look down to your feet. your breath catches in your throat upon seeing that he’s only tying his shoe. you don’t know whether to breathe out a sigh of relief or scream in frustration at that fact you’ll be waiting for who knows how long for the real thing to happen.

“you good?” osamu questions with a frown as he slowly returns to his standing position. he’s been catching you with a crease between your eyebrows recently and despite your consistent reassurance that you were fine, the expression seemed to always find its way back to your face. even though he’s concerned, he never wanted to come off as the overbearing boyfriend that crossed your boundaries by constantly hovering over your shoulder and badgering you to tell him how you actually feel. he trusts that if something is truly bothering you, you’ll tell him when you’re ready.

you have no intention of coming straight out and telling him that you were expecting him to give a sappy speech and pull out a velvet box. the entire reason you’ve been suffering silently is because you don’t want him to know that you know. you wrap your hands around his arm and peer up at him with a tight-lipped smile. “yeah, sorry. i was just in my head when you stopped me, that’s all.”

he stares down at you and you can practically see the doubt swimming in his eyes. there’s no way you can keep up this act without him getting even a little suspicious—your behavior is clearly stirring up some wariness on his end. you ignore the biting feeling that’s telling you that osamu is onto you, meeting his gaze happily.

“okay,” he finally speaks up with a short nod.

“okay, let’s go.” you rest your head on his shoulder and squeeze his bicep in a gesture to keep moving. he obliges and the two of you naturally fall into step with each other, continuing your stroll through town. you point out a shop that catches your eye, one with mannequins set up in the window wearing some cute outfits. the weather getting warmer is a perfect excuse for you to stop by the boutique and shop around. maybe browsing and asking osamu what he thinks about the clothes will be enough to get your head out of the clouds.

ᡣ𐭩

“this place is really nice,” you comment, head turning to take in your surroundings as you sit down in the chair osamu pulled out for you. the most eye-catching characteristic of the establishment is the extravagant chandelier hanging from the center of the room. the crystal pendants glimmer when the lights hit them at just the right angle, highlighting the intricately carved art on the walls. individual candles are lit at the center of each table. you can’t put your finger on their scent, but if the rest of the place is anything to go off of, you’re sure they smell amazing. even the silverware set out looks expensive. “are we celebrating something?”

you were caught off guard when osamu walked through the door earlier than usual, telling you to change out of your comfy clothes into something nice. it took a full-blown interrogation under the ruse of needing to know the dress code for osamu to come clean and admit that he was taking you out to dinner. it struck you as strange, though. your boyfriend was a chef at heart and loved trying out new recipes in the kitchen, excitedly standing by while you tasted the dish and gave him feedback. but on days when he was burned out from all the cooking at work, he’d ask you if you were fine with him ordering takeout. even on the days when didn’t want to cook but wanted to get out of the apartment, the two of you usually ventured to a familiar local spot, never anywhere that warranted more than jeans and a sweatshirt. him bringing you to a restaurant so opulent must mean that today marks a special occasion, right?

tonight has to be the night.

“no,” he takes his seat across from you, laying the provided napkin on his lap before running a cautious hand over his hair. it’s an unusual sight to see his hair slicked back, but some of the dark pieces strayed from the rest, swooping over his forehead and framing his face. he always looks handsome in your eyes but under the lights illuminating the room, he’s even more attractive. “i just wanted to treat you to a nice night.”

“that’s sweet.” you reach across the table to take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze and offering him a soft smile. what exactly does a “nice night” entail? dinner, dessert, and a diamond ring? you hope he doesn’t notice the tremors running through your fingers.

he returns your smile with one of his own, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. the two of you share light conversation until the waiter arrives to take your orders and collect your menus. as smoothly as things are going, you can’t help but think that as time goes on, you’re getting closer and closer to the moment you’ve spent weeks waiting for.

“is something wrong?” osamu asks.

“nope.” you shake your head. “why would something be wrong?”

“your leg keeps bouncing under the table.”

“oh, sorry, i didn’t even notice.” you pull your hand back and rest your palms on your thighs to stop them from moving.

“look, babe.” osamu runs his hand down his face and sighs. you must have thought he didn’t notice that you were beginning to frown more, that you were sleeping at his apartment less, that you pulled away when he brought up the future—but he did, he did notice and he can’t let it go. “you’ve been acting strange lately and i told myself i wouldn’t pry but it’s really starting to worry me. i just… was it something i did?”

“no! no, of course not.” you wave your hands back and forth frantically as if they’ll physically disperse his words throughout the air—rid that ridiculous thought from his head. you want to grab him by the face and scream at him about how wrong he is, but you keep your hands folded in your lap, thumbs unconsciously twiddling.

“the truth is…” you chew your lip thoughtfully, thinking over whether or not it’s a good idea to finally tell him. you had a good reason for keeping it from osamu, but now that you’ve witnessed that it is doing more harm than good, that he’s blaming himself for you being distant, you recognize that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to keep him in the dark. you have to tell him—this whole debacle has gone on for far too long and it’s affecting someone other than yourself. you take a deep breath before continuing. “when i went out with atsumu a couple weeks ago, we were just talking when he told me something he shouldn’t have. he said you were going to propose to me.”

osamu’s lips part in surprise. it never crossed his mind, the possibility that you were aware, but now that he thinks about it, everything makes sense. well, mostly everything. you had answered his question, but it raised another, one that’s a lot more difficult to ask. “so, have you been acting off because you knew, or because you don’t want to get married?”

you know it isn’t his intention, but your heart breaks a little at the fact that he even considered your rejection to be a real possibility. and it cracks a little more knowing that your secrecy is what likely instilled that notion in his head. “it’s not that. i was just on edge because i didn’t know when it was going to happen—i was expecting it and every little thing set me off.”

he nods slowly as he processes everything.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier.” your voice is quiet and osamu can just barely hear it over the commotion of the dining area. “i didn’t know what to do when your brother told me and, i don’t know, i thought acting like i was clueless would be best. i didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” he places his hands palms-up on the table and waits for you to set yours on top of his. you lift them off your legs and give them to osamu. he raises them to his mouth, kissing the back of each before meeting your gaze once more. “i’m not mad, i swear i’m not. you did what you thought was right. don’t beat yourself up about it.”

despite his understanding, part of you still feels as if the whole ordeal was avoidable. but if osamu isn’t upset with you, there’s no point in being upset with yourself. he wouldn’t want you fretting over it and you want nothing more than for things to return to normal. you smile and huff out a laugh. “i guess i ended up doing exactly what i was trying not to. did you have a backup plan in case i found out before you got the job done?”

“mmm, can’t say i thought about that. but i suppose i could just do it now. i don’t have the ring on me but there’s no reason to wait since—”

“are you serious?” you stare at him in disbelief. you’d spent the last several days walking on eggshells as though osamu would propose at any given moment, telling yourself that it could happen when you least expected it. still, none of those previous close calls lessen the shock of osamu’s nonchalantly spoken words.

“completely.” he traces a line over your finger; the one that he ideally would be sliding a ring on. it’s far from how he imagined the scene playing out, but even without the defining qualities of the average proposal—the dropping down on one knee, the long heartfelt speech about how his life changed when you walked into it, the dazzling ring—everything about here and now feels right to osamu. “marry me?”

tears pool in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. you thought you had enough time to prepare for this—experienced enough scares to steel yourself from crying, but if this stretch of time had taught you anything, it was to expect the unexpected. the vision of osamu in front of you is slowly blurring with each passing second. you blink, allowing the tears to flow down your cheeks and drip down your chin. you want to be able to see his face clearly when you give him your answer. fervently nodding, you tell him, “yes.”

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #osamu fluff #haikyuu fluff #osamu x you #haikyuu x you

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itgetzweird08 · 9 months ago

Text

Stuck.

Katsuki Bakugo x Gender Neutral!Reader Angst Hcs

A fic based on July by Noah Cyrus (I am so NOT sorry for this :)

Warnings: Nothing major, just mentions of drinking, implied cheating, and heavy language. Also general angst

A/N: I know a lot of y'all want the next part of Endevour's Secret Daughter and The Spark That Lit His Fuse. I'm working on it I swear, just got a little writer's block. But I promise I'll get it done soon! For now, enjoy this sob fest :))

I've been holding my breath

I've been counting to ten

Over something you said

The stress of growing as a hero was heavy, of course, you knew, but recently Bakugo seemed to be taking it out on you. When there was a bad mission, he would come home with a hard slam of the door, sparing you nothing but a hard glare. He would push you off and away when you would offer comfort, and when you tried to suggest he take a breath, he raised his voice to you.

“Can you get fuckin lost? Hell, I wish you would stop being so fucking annoying!”

I've been holding back tears

While you're throwing back beers

I'm alone in bed

This wasn’t a once-off either, as now it seemed like he would snap every time you would look at him. You felt like you had to hold your breath every time you were around him. But now, it seemed like everything was only getting worse. At least for a while, he would still come home, but now there were nights where you laid in the cold bed alone for hours until he would come back smelling like sweat and beer... and perfume.

You know I, I'm afraid of change

Guess that's why we stay the same

You knew you could leave, you knew you should. But fuck- something in you just couldn’t handle the thought of losing him. You had been together for so long, you liked the consistency of your relationship. And you didn’t want to feel as if you were giving up. You never gave up. To you, this was all just a hard challenge that you would overcome eventually. This hard roadblock would pass…wouldn’t it?

So tell me to leave

I'll pack my bags, get on the road

If he told you to leave, you would. But you wouldn’t be able to just give up on your own, not while you still felt some semblance of hope that your relationship could survive this.

Find someone that loves you

Better than I do, darling, I know

You wouldn’t be mad if he did decide to leave. Maybe he was right, maybe you weren’t cut out to be the partner of the number two hero. You were quirkless, and went to school for art. You knew nothing about having a special ability or hero work for that matter. Maybe he needed someone who did understand.

'Cause you remind me every day

I'm not enough, but I still stay

“What the hell do you know? You’re quirkless, you’re nothing. You’ll never be able to understand what I’m going through.”

Feels like a lifetime

Just trying to get by while we're dying inside

Six months…you’ve been stuck like this with Bakugo for six months. Nothing has gotten better. The small spark of hope you had for the relationship was slowly fizzling out. Now every bit of this relationship felt like torture. And yet you didn’t go anywhere.

I've done a lot of things wrong

Loving you being one

But I can't move on

You knew there were probably plenty of people in this world for you. But none of them were Katsuki. Maybe falling for him was a mistake. Everyone had warned you whenever news got out that you were dating him. Even his own friends, while teasing, dropped subtle hints.

‘I’m surprised anyone could stand him’

‘I can’t believe he found someone he’s considered worthy’

‘Thanks for putting up with him, I know he can be..a lot’

No matter what they said, you didn’t listen. You could never regret loving Katsuki.

So tell me to leave

I'll pack my bags, get on the road

“You’re too much of a distraction. You’re only holding me back.”

“What are you saying, Kats?”

“...I’m done, Y/N. I need to focus on being number one, not on being your boyfriend.”

Find someone that loves you

Better than I do, darling, I know

‘Dynamite and Uravity, Japan’s new IT Couple’

'Cause you remind me every day

I'm not enough, but I still stay

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dark-frosted-heart · 4 months ago

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Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 12

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Roger: Kate, I got good news. A new Cursed One may have been found!

Kate: Hey, don’t just burst into my room without knocking!

I pulled the front of my blouse tightly over my chest and glared at Roger.

Roger: You were in the middle of changing? My bad.

(...You don’t look sorry at all)

Kate: It’s fine. Just give me a second.

I turned away from him and finished tying up my blouse. I sighed and turned back to face Roger.

Kate: So it’s true that a new Cursed One was found?

Roger: Yeah, it’s true. Last night, a young man named Lance Brown was arrested for sneaking into a butcher’s shop and eating the meat. Here’s the important part. When he was about to be arrested, he made all the police officers faint just by hugging them.

(That definitely sounds like a Cursed One’s ability…)

Kate: That’s not something the average human can do.

Roger: Yeah, that’s why I’m thinking there’s a high possibility it’s a Cursed One. Apparently when Victor heard about it, he paid for his release, and ordered him to provide information in return.

(As expected from Victor. Making the necessary investments…This is the palace’s Grim Reaper)

(Even so)

Kate: Hehe, you look happy, Roger.

Roger: Of course I am. Cursed ones are born all over the world, but there aren’t that many to begin with. Just meeting them is a valuable sample. Besides, plenty of Cursed Ones die without even realizing that they’re cursed.

From what I read in Roger’s research, because the existence of Cursed Ones isn’t public knowledge, many commit suicide because they think there’s something wrong with them, turn to crime, or get falsley accused like Alec was.

Kate: I think there’s a lot of happiness in this world we don’t know about. However, there’s some misfortunes that happen when you don’t know yourself. But… It would be a shock to suddenly go out and tell someone “You’re a Cursed One.”

Perhaps it was because of his rational personality, but Roger had a habit of being too direct.

A pro was that he was to the point and easy to understand. A con, well…that.

Roger: When I was a kid, I said something so suddenly to Alfons that it left a lasting mark on him. I won’t make the same mistake again. We’ll see how things go when we go see him today.

Kate: “We” are going to see him?

Roger: What are you so surprised for? You’re my assistant aren’t you?

(Well, according to the robin growth map…)

(I remember the promotion going from dogsbody -> dog -> assistant -> partner -> lover)

So I guess I’ve ranked up from dog to assistant.

Kate: Though I returned all the materials you let me borrow, I never said I read through them all…

Roger: You didn’t need to. You’re not the type to demand rewards or recognition for your work. But I know you’re a hard worker that never skimps on things.

That honestly makes me happy

Thank you +4 +4

I’m uncomfortable

The sudden compliment made my cheeks warm.

Kate: …Thank…you.

Roger: Hm? I didn’t hear you.

Kate: Thank you! And don’t lie about your hearing.

Roger: Haha. Come on, I got a carriage waiting. Let’s go, Kate.

Kate: Wait for me Roger!

Clothes already changed, I rushed to shove my notebook and handkerchief into my bag before following him.

Kate: Huh, but…We can’t let outsiders know we’re Crown. What do we say to him?

Roger: Leave it to me. Well, I’ll need a lot of help from you too.

(Huh…—?)

And so Roger and I went to see the young man who was arrested last night for sneaking into a butcher’s shop.

Roger: Nice to meet you Lance Brown. I’m Roger Barel, a doctor. And this is…

Kate: I’m Doctor Roger’s a-assistant, Kate.

Roger: We’re employed by the royal family. Our job is to interview criminals and provide support in a healthy rehabilitation. Right, Kate?

Kate: Y-yes! So I hope we can chat without being too formal.

(Another appropriate lie, even if it is to hide Crown’s existence…)

While I was worrying over taking part in a lie, Lance hung his head apologetically.

Lance: No, I apologize for the trouble I’ve caused. They saved me by paying for my release. I’ll tell you whatever I can. I don’t want to commit crimes so carelessly again.

Roger: Then let’s start with drawing some blood…

Lance: Drawing?? Blood??

Roger: Yeah, I need to draw blood for mental stability.

(More appropriate lies)

However, knowing what Roger’s trying to achieve, I couldn’t blame him for lying.

After that, I continued to help Roger gather information on the Cursed One under the guise of an “interview”—

(That’s…?)

Suddenly, I noticed a painting in Lance’s art studio.

Kate: Lance, you’re a painter, right?

Lance: Ah, yes. An amateur…

Taking a look around the room, I saw a couple of canvases on easels.

Kate: Most of the paintings are of landscapes. Ah, but there’s some portraits too…

My eyes were drawn to a portrait of a red-haired girl.

Kate: …Beautiful. Is she someone important to you, Lance?

Lance: Huh.

Kate: Ah, well…even with untrained eyes, I could tell a lot of care was put into the painting.

Lance: …Yes. The young lady is someone I like. She works at a bakery near the studio…

Lance pointed out to the street from his studio on the second floor.

Lance: I always watch her from here.

Roger: So you don’t even know this lady’s name?

Lance: I’m embarrassed to admit it…

The simple-looking Lance blushed.

Roger: You’re wasting time hesitating. Just go talk to her.

Kate: That’s terrible advice! This is why you’re inconsiderate.

Roger: Oh, as expected from a teacher who claims that she can teach me about being in love. How would you go about it, Kate?

Kate: Me?

(We’re not here to discuss this…)

Kate: I’d start with seasonal greetings and then gradually work my way up from there…

Roger: …Huh, that’s no good. With your method time will go by in an instant and they’ll end up in their graves before they know it.

Kate: Wha?!

Lance, who had been listening to our conversation with wide eyes suddenly burst into laughter.

Lance: Pfft, hahahaha! Ah, sorry. I was so nervous given how you work for royalty, but you two are so…charming.

Roger: I’m charming? Artists have a strange way of seeing things.

Kate: Hehe.

Lance: Sorry to stop the fun advice you’ve given me, but…I’m fine with the way things are. I’m just happy watching her from here. …If I just watch her, my love won’t hurt her.

Lance muttered and then turned to us with a smile.

Lance: But enough about me! I’m sorry for asking this out of the blue, you two are lovers, aren’t you?

Kate: Huh?

Lance: You two appear to be very close and you don’t act like coworkers…am I wrong?

Kate and Roger: You’re wrong!/That’s right.

Lance: Oh dear, who should I believe?

Kate: Ugh, what are you even talking about, Roger?

Roger: Don’t get all shy just because we’re in company.

I started arguing with Roger again in front of Lance, who just smiled in mild amusement.

Kate: Lance, don’t believe a thing he says. Believe me!

Lance: Ahahaha!

After chatting with Lance, we got back on the carriage to Crown Castle.

Roger: Hey, hey. Don’t pout. I’ll buy you some jerky.

(Jerky is a treat for Ale…)

Kate: Stop treating me like a dog. Geez…you’re always saying the most random things.

The pointless arguments continue all the way back to Crown Castle, but…apart from that, Lance sincerely answered our questions.

Kate: Roger, Lance really is a Cursed One, isn’t he?

Roger: I haven’t seen his ability in practice yet so I can’t say for sure. Moreover, even if you saw the ability, you can’t say for sure what the curse is.

Kate: Why is that?

Roger: You know why this has become known as “Fairytale Curses”. Novelists and playwrights around the world created works based on existing “Cursed Ones”. It’s said to be what started them off.

~~ Flashback start ~~

Roger: It’s said that the origins of various fairytales were based on these “Cursed Ones”. But nowadays, it’s reversed and we refer to it as the “Fairytale Curse”.

~~ End flashback ~~

(That’s what I was told when we first met)

Kate: Um, so…let’s say Lance is cursed. Are you saying we don’t know if the curse exists in a fairytale?

Roger: That’s right. As expected from my assistant, quick on the uptake.

He ruffled my hair.

(It’s annoying how happy I get even when this is something you do to a dog…)

It felt like he was training me and while I hung my head feeling frazzled, Roger called out to me.

Roger: So…What do you think? Anything about this make you suspicious?

(Roger felt it too)

Kate: Lance was arrested because he was found sneaking into a butcher’s shop at night and eating the meat right? But Lance didn’t seem like the type to so easily commit a crime. Besides, the paintings on display had papers taped on them indicating that they were to be sold. As we were chatting, he brought up receiving commissions. So he’s not living in poverty…

Roger: And look at the paint. It has the royal warrant of appointment.

Roger held up a used tube of blue paint.

Kate: Huh, you just took that without asking? That’s wrong…

Roger: Wrong? We’re still villains in Crown. We can’t protect anything by doing things the right way.

The moment we arrived back at the castle, we went straight to Lord Elbert’s room.

I thought that someone like Lord Elbert, who collected beautiful things, would understand the value of the paint.

Elbert: …This paint certainly is a first-class product of the Royal Warrant. Also…I heard that Lance Brown’s paintings have caught the eyes of nobility.

(Lance is a famous painter…)

Elbert: As you two have discussed, I don’t believe he’s struggling financially.

Kate: I thought so…

When I guess turned out to be correct, new suspicions formed.

Kate: Then why did he steal from the butcher’s shop that night?

Elbert: If he is a cursed one…Then perhaps it has to do with his curse.

Kate: His curse…?

Elbert: The sin of a Cursed One is far more powerful than you could possibly imagine. My cursed sin is greed…Sometimes I crave and crave, and the rational side of me can’t resist the urges. If he’s also tormented by his own sin…

Roger: I’m betting on a high possibility of that too.

Elbert: You haven’t told him that he’s probably a Cursed One, have you?

Seeing our expressions, Elbert’s long eyelashes lowered melancholically.

Elbert: …If that’s the case, then you should tell him as soon as possible. I believe self-awareness is a way to protect yourself.

Roger: Yeah, I will. Thanks El, you were a big help.

Kate: Thank you, Lord Elbert.

Elbert: No problem. Roger’s done a lot for me.

Ocean blue eyes looked out at the sky through the window.

Elbert: It’s going to rain…tonight.

What Elbert said was true. It started raining that night—and the day after.

We then heard that Lance had passed away.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil roger route

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goldenbuckyyy · 2 years ago

Text

YOU’RE ALL I WANT

Summary: You and Harry finally reconnect.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.7kish

Warnings: Over 3k of smut!! Oral (fem! & male!receiving), fingering, allure to squirting, raw sex, creampie, slight fem!reader!Dom/subrry vibes if you squint!! 🤏🏻

A/N: Hi!! Sorry this has taken so long! The holidays were very crazy and work has been… just as crazy as always! But she’s here and I hope you love her as much as I do.. because I love her!! I’m also going to be tagging anybody who mention needing part 2 since it’s been a while!! Also, this is probably the last part! Song title inspo: “You’re all I want” by Cigarettes After Sex

Divider is by @silkholland!! I love your divider so much! Thank you for allowing us to use them. 🫶🏻

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

PART 1 || Main Masterlist

May 20th, 2022.

You tapped your fingers on your countertop as you watched the time slowly trickle by.

3:03PM.

Watching how slow the time was going felt almost agonizing.

You let out a groan as you felt as if time had never gone by any slower. You were still in your pajamas, sipping on your door dashed iced latte, stomach still full of your late morning breakfast, and you felt nervous. Nauseated, almost.

So nervous about seeing Harry tonight that you almost wanted to throw up. And you knew you didn’t have to feel this nervous, but it’s been almost a year that you haven’t seen him. It’s normal to feel this way. You can’t help it.

Harry’s album had already been out since midnight and you had to physically restrain yourself from listening to it. You wanted tonight to be the first night you listened to all of his new songs.

Either way, you knew they were going to be amazing.

You had also already chosen your outfit for the night. Which surprisingly had taken you so long to put together.

Simply because you wanted to look your absolute best tonight.

You searched throughout Twitter for concert inspiration and for any ideas that would help you. You knew fashion. You worked in fashion. You had your own famous fashion line and you still had no idea what to wear to this concert.

You’ve been to plenty of his concerts before. You even remember the outfits you wore to one direction concerts and it secretly made you cringe. Flashbacks of textured shorts and frail crop tops fill your mind.

But now.. now you wanted to surprise him and feel good. It’s been way too long since you had seen Harry's face and you missed him.

So, you did what you do best and you made your own outfit.

You ended up making a black jumpsuit with an amazing sequin fabric which covered every inch of it. It was long enough to pair with your favorite platform heeled boots that were comfy enough to be standing a long period of time in. You made the top of the jumpsuit have a cross neck fixture with a triangle opening right underneath your sternum and you made the back to match.

Now, it was just time for the clock to strike five for you to start to get ready.

So, here you are. Fiddling with your phone to try and pass the time faster.

You hop off the stool and move to your private sunroom in your penthouse that overlooks the river. You bask in the sun on your skin and wonder how tonight will go.

Hopefully everything goes well and Harry’s only expression when he sees you is happiness.

You can only hope.

You tug on your oversized silk blazer as you walk down the backstage hallway of MSG with Jeff by your side.

“Harry might shit himself when he sees you,” Jeff says to you with wild eyes and a loud laugh as you try and match his fast pace down the hall.

You let out your own nervous one as you fix your hair for the millionth time as you follow him.

“Don’t worry. I just might, too.”

You weren’t lying. You genuinely felt sick to your stomach. You had decided to wait until you knew that Harry would already be almost going on to text Jeff that you were waiting at the back entrance for him. Just so he wouldn’t be able to tell Harry you were here.

“The concert already started, but don’t freak. It just started,” Jeff says casually as you start to see the flashing lights from behind the curtain.

You still for a second right before you pass the curtain to let out a shaky breath. Reminding yourself to calm down. That it’s only Harry.

Jeff’s hands are suddenly touching your shoulders and he’s giving you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t be nervous. He’s going to be happy to see you. Trust me.”

You nod quickly and your senses are suddenly filled with loud screams. Thousands and thousands of people screaming for Harry. For your Harry and it makes your heart warm.

You follow Jeff to the side of the main stage behind a barricade, but in perfect view of Harry. And your eyes start to water as soon as you see him.

He’s wearing an adorable white shirt that’s lined with red hearts, black leather figure hugging pants, red sneakers, and a big chunky yellow necklace.

You cover your mouth to hold in your own cry, quickly shaking off the nerves as you settle into the spot next to Jeff, and you zone out as you admire Harry in his zone.

The way the music completely takes over his body and his actions. The way you can tell he lets the music get into his bones by the way he lets it take over and how he dances. The way he lets himself be free in a room filled with people that love him. People that you know he loves. His fans. His wonderful, amazing, love filled fans.

The way he smiles, laughs, and giggles so hard his dimples end up showing. And how he looks so freaking happy it makes you want to burst into tears.

You can easily tell this is his favorite thing to do. Just by looking at him. He’s the type of person that you can just watch and admire because everything he does leaves you in awe.

And that’s exactly how you feel.

Then, at the right moment when he’s prancing around the stage, and running on your side of the stage.. he glances down to look at Jeff and then he sees you.

You both lock eyes at the same time and he trips on his own feet, halting in front of you, and the screaming only intensifies when he breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen on him all night.

His hands immediately go to his heart and you see his eyes water as you smile back at him with matching watery eyes. He reaches for you with a small “Hi” leaving his lips and you mouth it back. You can tell he wants to say something else, but he quickly shakes his head with a grin and goes back to dancing around the stage.

You can hear fans calling out your name from around you as now they’ve noticed you. You look around, giving a small wave at the fans near you, and they shriek when you look at them.

You blush under their gazes as it never gets any less weird for you that people actually know who you are. But feeling grateful nonetheless.

Harry makes his way to your corner of the stage after he sings probably the saddest song you’ve ever heard and smiles at you as he settles himself with the microphone stand.

“Now this next song… this next song is incredibly special to me. One of my favorites actually. And…” he pauses and takes in a shaky breath. “The person who inspired this song is actually here tonight.”

The crowd goes wild. Loud cheers surrounding your entire body. You feel lightheaded as you watch Harry on stage.

Watching you.

He gives you a small smile and continues, “This person.. has been my best friend for almost a decade now. We actually met at a Halloween party many many years ago. Her best friend is actually the person I spilled my beer on,” you both chuckle at his words, “I’m getting off track here. But I just want to say that this person is the one person that I absolutely adore. I adore her, I admire her, I respect her, I recognize her, and I love her.” His voice cracks at the last couple of words, his bottom lip quivering and his chin caving in, and tears pool his eyes.

Your eyes are filled with tears at hearing his speech to you and knowing that this is showing his vulnerable side. Which he has always struggled with. You clamp your hands together against your chin as you only smile up at him.

“This is ‘Little Freak’,” he says into the mic as the band starts playing a soft melody.

The first lyrics remind me of the incident in Italy last year and your heart silently hurts. You grip onto the railing in front of you as you listen closely to each lyric.

Finding yourself relating to each word and wanting to pull Harry into your embrace.

Did you dress up for Halloween? I spilled beer on your friend.. I’m not sorry.

You chuckle as you sniffle while slow tears fall down your cheeks and you quickly wipe them away. You watch him in awe as you hear everybody singing along to the lyrics. To a song that came out less than twenty four hours ago.

I disrespected you

Jumped in feet first, and I landed too hard

A broken ankle, karma rules

You never saw my birthmark

Okay. Maybe this is the saddest song you’ve ever heard. Harry holds out the microphone to his fans and gets overwhelmed when they’re singing back his lyrics so loudly. You laugh with joy at how happy he is.

“Thank you so much,” he says into the microphone with his voice wavering, but sounding so grateful.

Just thinkin' about you

He finishes singing the last lyric and he looks over at you with a smile. You smile back with a thumbs up and his dimples show.

The rest of the concert goes by so quickly you can’t even believe it’s been almost two hours since he started.

Every single one of his songs feels connected to you in some way and you wonder if you were in Harry’s thoughts when he wrote this album. You know ‘Little Freak’ is about you since he practically dedicated it to you before he sang it.. but you wonder about the rest.

A part of you doesn’t want to know.

Jeff is by your side as soon as Harry runs off the stage after doing his famous ‘Whale’ and glancing at you quickly.

Jeff wraps his arm around your shoulder, with a smile, he asks, “What’d you think?”

“He’s incredible.”

“That’s our boy.”

You hum in agreement and you both walk off backstage to the chaos that is the loud voices of people congratulating the band and Harry on a brilliant performance.

You stand in the background, watching Harry take each compliment with grace, a shake of each person's hand, and a dimpled smile on his face.

You watch him carefully, bouncing on your heeled boots, heart racing, fingers aching to feel Harry’s skin, and your body trying not to reach for him.

You smile softly when you notice his eyes searching the room and then they land on you. His expression changes to a mix of glowing happiness and absolute joy. He looks like a little kid that just got offered a lollipop at the dentist.

He politely excuses himself from the group he had just thanked and hastily makes his way towards you.

You open your arms to him on instinct, “Hi.”

His arms engulf you into his space, completely tucking you into his body, and you feel complete. His hands wrap around your torso, underneath your blazer, touching your skin, and your arms wrap around his neck. Your faces squeezing into each other’s necks and he whispers a breathy, “Hi.”

You melt into his embrace, smelling his cinnamon roll hair styling crème that he still uses, and it brings back a decade of memories for you. His strong arms squeeze you as he lifts you up off your toes and you can hear him inhaling your scent.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

You chuckle into his neck, “Me more.”

You both pull away at the same time, staring at each other, and you place your hand on his cheek. He leans into it with a small smile, beautiful glossy green eyes staring into yours, and you thumb his cheek.

“I’m sorry, H.” You confess with a soft tone, trying to hold your voice steady while your heart races inside of your chest.

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one that messed up, but.. c’mon.” He wraps his hand in yours, giving Jeff a small signal, and he starts to walk off towards his dressing room.

He leads you into the big dim-lighted room, shutting the door behind you, and locking it for privacy.

You stay in front of him, glancing at him and trying to see if you notice anything different about it.

But he’s still the same Harry. Right in front of you. Finally.

He pulls two cold waters from the mini fridge and hands one to you as he leads you both to the couch. You get comfortable as he kicks off his shoes, leaning into the green couch, and planting his feet on top of the coffee table. You sit back and admire him for a second before drinking some water.

After a moment of silence, he asks, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Missed you tho.”

He smiles as he tucks his chin into his chest, arms crossing over his chest, “I did, too. More than you can imagine.”

“Yeah?” You question, playing with the rings on your fingers, and you look at him from underneath your lashes.

“Come here,” he says as he reaches for your hand. Your insides turn and you let him pull you into his lap. Your breathing hitches as he stares at your face, taking you in, and then his eyes land on your lips.

“Of course I’ve missed you. You’re my best friend,” he whispers into you as he slowly leans in and you close your eyes, waiting for his lips to touch yours.

“Do you still want me?” You blurt out bluntly, your eyes going wide, and you suddenly feel weak. You feel vulnerable. Insecure.

Harry tenses in front of you, his eyes going wide, and he searches for words. But nothing comes out. His eyebrows furr in confusion, “What? How-I… Are you serious? I was about to kiss you..”

You look down, ashamed at your question, and you feel him pull your face back up to meet his own eyes with his thumb.

“How could you ever think I wouldn’t want you?”

His eyes are sincere and full of concern. His body leans into yours, his arms that are holding you only grow tighter, and you wrap your arms around his neck limply.

You lean into his touch and try to smile. Your lips wavering when you say, “I.. I ignored you for months.”

“You had your reasons. I was awful to you. I said mean words to you that I should have taken back as soon as I had spoken them. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His thumb caresses your cheek as you nod at him.

“I’m still sorry,” you say again as you kiss the inside of his palm.

“I have always wanted you.”

“What?” You say with a grin as he matches your own.

“I, Harry Styles, have always wanted you, Y/N L/N. Ever since the first moment I saw you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on and you continue being so.”

You let out a watery laugh as tears prick your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Stop! You’re making me cry!” You both laugh together as he places a big smooch on your cheek.

You giggle as he slowly starts to kiss your cheek and makes his way down to your lips.

His hands are holding your face when he leans back and asks you, “Can I kiss you?”

Before you can even finish nodding, his lips are on yours.

His lips feel soft and warm against yours. You both held your breath as he waited for you to respond to his kiss, his lips on yours, but full of hesitation.

You relax into his hands, letting yourself finally kiss him back, and a feeling of euphoria fills your body. You both moan into the kiss, tilting your heads for better access, and you pull at each other to feel closer together. He slides off your blazer and touches your naked arms, moaning at feeling your skin against his own.

Your tongue fights with Harry’s and you suck on his bottom lip with a moan. Your hands moving from the back of his warm neck to his curly hair, tugging at the roots, and filling with content when he groans into your mouth.

Harry lets go of your face and he’s moving your body over his own, adjusting himself onto the couch, and you plant yourself down on his hips. Feeling his hardening bulge against your core makes you feel hot. Your core aching in want and you grind against him.

You both meet again in the middle and kiss, lips lapping against each other, open mouthed moans, and pants filling the room. Slow hips grinding against each other.

In the rush of probably the hottest way you’ve ever kissed someone, he’s suddenly pulling away from your body completely.

Leaving your body aching for his touch and your skin feeling burned as his hands leave your waist.

You’re suddenly filled with confusion, furring your eyebrows, and peering up at H.

“What’s going on? Why’d you stop?” You pant out as you try to catch your breath.

H looks like he’s torn between a million emotions as he clutches his eyes in distress, a heavy breathe escaping his lips, and he’s shaking his head. Then.. he chuckles.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this..”

Your heart stops.

“But.. I don’t want our first time to be like this.”

Oh.

“Oh?” You question with a small smile as you sit up on his lap, adjusting your jumpsuit straps around your neck, and he’s leaning against the back of the couch… looking so adorable.

He looks almost shy right now and he blushes under your gaze.

“Yeah,” he says as he reaches for your hand and you let him. “I want our first time to be special. I want it to be in my bed or yours. And I want it…I just.. I don’t want to fuck you in this dressing room. I mean—“

You cut him off as your cheeks flush down to your neck at his words, “I have an apartment here.”

His eyebrows spike up in shock as he looks simultaneously confused, shocked, and you can tell he’s hurt that he doesn’t know about this major change in your life. You reach for his hand and squeeze it when he immediately grips onto yours. Trying to reassure him with your touch.

“Since when?”

“Fairly recent,” you say with a small smile playing on your sinful lips.

“Where?”

“The Copper,” you say with a glint of enthusiasm and he only matches you. Like always.

“You got an apartment there?” His eyes glint with a look of pride.

“I got the penthouse.”

The second that you both walk into your penthouse, Harry’s mouth and hands are on you. And you’re not complaining.

You throw off your blazer at the same time he kicks off his shoes.

His hands are all over the parts of your skin that isn’t covered and he stops when he finds the clasp around your neck. He swiftly unhooks your jumpsuit and you feel it fall over your shoulders and down your chest. Your breasts are now exposed and you feet the cold air brush against your nipples. Perking them up and making you gasp in pleasure.

He tugs on your jumpsuit which makes it pull around your waist and his hands move onto your breasts. He moans into your mouth when he feels them naked since you’re not wearing a bra or pasties. He thumbs your nipples and you whimper into him, licking the roof of his mouth, and sliding your hands underneath his shirt.

He manages to shove you against your couch and you both tumble on it, giggling into the kiss, and his hands are around your body to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You giggle as he kisses you, which only makes him giggle with you, and then you’re laying down on your couch. You pull away from him when you feel him get on his knees in front of you.

He slowly slides his hands underneath your jumpsuit, unzipping your boots, and tossing them to the floor. His eyes are only on you.

You watch him with want as he slips off his shirt, tossing it to the side, and you shimmy out of your jumpsuit. Tugging off your black thong with it.

Harry's lips are on yours again and he’s hungry. Kissing you deeply, his tongue fighting for dominance with your own, both moaning and panting, aching for each other, and he’s reaching down to unzip his pants.

Harry’s hands suddenly are off of your hips and his lips leave your own. You whine as you feel him pull away from you and you quickly open your eyes to watch him as he’s watching you, now sitting on his knees on the couch, and his eyes never leave yours.

He slowly lets his eyes wander down your naked body, fully taking in that this is the first time he’s ever seen you naked, and it makes you ache in ways you’ve never ached before. Makes your skin break out into goosebumps at the mere sight of him taking you in.

He stands up, shoving off his leather pants and his red briefs, and his long, thick dick makes an appearance. Your eyes go wide as you look at him, the first time truly looking at his dick, and your pussy only clenches with desire at the same time your mouth waters with want.

His dick is beautiful. Long, thick, and looking juicy. And waiting to fuck you up. His tip is leaking pre-cum already and it bounces with every movement he makes. He moves back to where he was sitting on his knees on the couch, admiring you as you admire him.

“Fuck,” he mutters out as he wipes his face with his hands before he sets them down on your ankles.

“What is it?” You whisper as you move your legs to open up in front of him, feeling your wetness coat your inner thighs, and he bites his bottom lip. His dick twitching in all its hardened glory. He’s almost fully leaking from the tip of his dick.

“You… are beautiful. Breathtaking.. and this is the first time I see you naked. I just wanna admire you,” he says as he pulls your ankle to his shoulder and kisses your shin. You smile as you let yourself spread out more for him as he starts kissing up your legs slowly and sinfully.

Your breathing hitches as he gets closer to your center, you're already antsy when he stops in your inner thigh, kissing both of them, licking them, and sucking small love bites onto them.

You massage your breasts as you lean your head down to get a better look at him.

“You’re glistening,” he mutters against your thigh, kissing right next to your aching pussy. You can help but moan out in want and anticipation. Your hips are getting a mind of their own as you try to hitch them towards his mouth and his eyes move towards yours.

“So inpatient,” he says as his cold fingers are suddenly touching your wet lips, pulling them open, and he spreads you to his liking.

“Oh my god,” you moan out at the sensation that overcomes your entire body at Harry finally touching you.

He moves himself in between your legs, pushing your thighs down on each side, and he lets his tongue slowly lick your pussy. You clench around him, you can’t fully believe that this is happening right now, and you twist your nipples in between your fingers. You tilt your head back in a pant when Harry slips two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” he groans out as he curves his fingers inside of you and your pussy only tightens around them. Your breathing has picked up and you can hear how absolutely drenched you are by the sound his fingers are making as he moves them in and out of your pussy.

Harry seems to only fuel himself more with your moans and panting because you feel him start to devour you. You gasp when you feel his tongue lick you from the bottom of your folds all the way to your clit where he swivels his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth gently. The bundle of nerves makes the pit of your belly harden in pleasure, your back curving upwards, and your hands move into his curls to hold onto something. Anything.

You moan out his name when his fingers start thrusting inside of you, in and out. In and out. And then he picks up his pace, slightly, but making a big difference in how it fuels your impending orgasm.

His fingers continue to fuck you, his mouth devouring you, and his tongue is torturing you. In every possible way. You know this is going to be the best sex of your life. You know you’ll never be able to move on from this. You hope Harry will feel the same way, too.

His mouth moves skillfully against your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit in all the best ways, and you can feel the pressure slowly building up in your lower stomach.

Harry sucks onto your clit, making your legs start to shake slightly, and he inserts a third finger into you. You cry out in pleasure, your body feeling like it’s on fire, your skin is glistening with sweat, and you start to move your hips to match the pace of his mouth.

He doesn’t stop his movements. He only keeps going. His fingers fucking you like heaven, his moans sending shockwaves through your body, and then.. he moves his tongue into the right spot on your clit which makes you absolutely explode from underneath him.

You yell out his name, so loud that if you actually had neighbors on this floor, you’d be scared they’d come banging on your door for being so damn loud, and your eyes prick with tears from the amazing orgasm that overtakes you.

Your toes curl into the couch, fingers gripping onto his curls, entire body clenching and then releasing as you feel yourself soaking Harry's mouth and fingers, and he’s lapping up every single drop of your release. Moaning as you can see his thighs grinding into the couch.

You don’t even let your body come down from the high when you’re hastily moving from being underneath Harry to being on top of him, straddling him, and kissing him hard. Sucking his lips into yours and moaning when you can taste yourself on his tongue.

You kiss him for a couple seconds before you move down his stomach, licking his butterfly tattoo, sucking a couple love bites on his abs, and letting yourself make eye contact with him the entire time.

His pupils are blown out, lips plump and swollen, cheeks flushed bright pink, and he looks fucked.

“Fuck,” he pants out, his voice raspy and blissed out. And he can’t even react before you’re taking in his aching dick into your mouth. Fully deep-throating him that the tip is curving into the back of your throat. Your eyes water as you keep eye contact with him, your hands holding yourself steady against his fern tattoos, and his hands grip into your loose hair.

“Holy shit! You’re fucking-I-you’re fucking taking me all the way, baby!”

You preen at his words, bobbing your head on his dick, pulling up slowly to let your tongue lap over his tip, sucking off the pre-cum into your mouth, and moaning so that he feels every vibration in your throat on his dick. You can feel his dick twitching in pleasure inside of your mouth and it only fuels you to be better. You pick up your pace, nails digging into his hips, lapping him up, and everytime you go all the way down, you let your tongue lick his balls too.

Harry suddenly pulls your face off his dick and you whimper at the disconnection. You look at him with big, blown out pupils, and a stream of saliva connecting your lips with his dick.

He groans as his hands move down to your breasts, pinching your nipples, and then he thumbs your swollen lower lip to wipe off the mess.

“‘M gonna cum if you keep suckin’ me off like that, honey.” His voice is breathless as he cups your face, pulling you up easily, and connecting your lips with his. Your wet core lands on his fat, aching dick, and you already need him inside of you.

You’re aching for him.

You kiss each other roughly, hands all over each other, and you start hitching your hips higher trying to align yourself with his dick. You can feel his dick fluttering in between your folds, wetting him up even more, and then you feel your opening align with his dick. You shift your hips a little bit more and you feel the head of his dick right where you want him.

You lower down onto his pulsating dick and he groans into your mouth. His hands immediately find your hips, holding you steady as you try to lower yourself more, only being halfway.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight right now. So fucking tight, give me a second..” He moans even louder as he allows you to lower yourself even more until your pelvis meets his own. You steady yourself on his chest, tightening your arms against your breast, and smiling wickedly at Harry’s expression which only shows pleasure.

You slowly start to move against his hips, slowly bouncing on his dick as his tight grip on your hips help you move, and you can feel how desperate he is for you. How much he’s wanted this. How much you’ve been wanting this.

He slowly starts moving his hips underneath you, quickly changing the pace from slow and sultry to fast and rough. The sound of slapping skin fills the entire penthouse, your moans mixing with his own, and your hands are touching him everywhere.

“You feel so good,” you whimper out to him as you lick the curves of his neck as he pulls you into his chest as he hitches his hips to fuck into you like this.

“You were made for me,” he whimpers back as his arms wrap around your waist.

His thrust only increases in speed in this position. His dick filling you up completely, like nobody ever has, touching every inch of your walls, and your wetness only allows him to fuck into you faster.

You feel the familiar feeling building up in your belly, you lick and suck his earlobe, “I’m so close.”

He quickly turns you over, so that your body is laying on the couch now, his dick never exiting you, and now he hitches your legs to wrap around his waist. He presses down against our belly and it only fuels your climax.

“Oh my fuckin’—” you cry out as you feel Harry fucking you hard and him pushing against your cervix seems to increase the sensations.

“Feel me up here, huh?” He groans out as he continues to push into you at a rough speed which you can only nod, feeling absolutely fucked, and he moves his free hand to your clit. Moving his thumb in circles roughly against it which triggers your orgasm.

You clench around his dick, crying out loud, your entire body breaking out into goosebumps, and instant satisfaction floods you. You tighten your legs around Harry, pulling him into you, waiting for him to cum too, and he’s looking like a fucking god above you.

His curls falling around his face, sweat glistening his toned body and his forehead, fucked out, bright flushed pink cheeks, and you don’t know what comes over you…

You reach forward as he fucks you and you place your hand aound his neck, holding the sides, avoiding the center, and his eyes go wide.

His eyes instantly meet yours and his lips part in shock. And you keep moving your body against his, letting him use you completely, and then.. you squeeze around his neck.

His eyes roll back into his head, biting his bottom lip, fucking you rough and hard, and you know he’s about to cum. You squeeze his throat harder and your free hand reaches underneath his neck to tug his curls.

He lets out the loudest, gut-wrenching moan of the night, and his thrusts start turning animalistic, when he yells out, “Fuckkk!!”

He continues to thrust into you as he reaches his peak, filling you up completely, and you both are a panting mess as you both start coming down from your orgasms.

Harry flops onto your chest, but holding himself up with his forearms on your sides. You giggle as you can still feel his dick inside of you, but you wrap your arms around his neck.

He lifts his head, panting, and eyes glistening. He smiles at you, bunny teeth showing, and dimples carving his cheeks.

“That was…” he stops as if he can’t even find the words, but who are you kidding? You can’t either.

“It was,” you agree as you kiss his forehead.

“That was very much long overdue,” he states with a teasing grin and you playfully pinch his forearm. He laughs into your neck before giving you a soft kiss.

“How long are you here for?” You ask, not really wanting to ask, but you know you should.

“I’m here as long as you are.”

You furr your eyebrows in confusion, lips parting with a question, and he shushes you.

“I’m not letting you leave my sight ever again.”

He places a million kisses over your face, you swat him away with giggles, and then hold his face in your hands. Eyes locking.

“Does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” You tease.

“Shit, I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Your eyes glint with amusement and so do his.

“Who says I wouldn’t?” You whisper at him, playing with his curls in your fingers. And he attacks you with another million kisses.

You could get used to this.

And you think you just might.

“So, where’s that secret birthmark of yours?”

@that-daydream-look @harrysfolklore @b-reads-things @tbslnightly @noseyrosey1597 @alwayslovingharry @alreadyjackbestfriend @cevansssss @1cedteaa @feestyles @you-sunshine @awesomebooklover17 @aruima

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