#Save me a seat please!! Window one
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
fleeing feelings
pairing: hvc x fem!reader | best friend!seungkwan genre: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, university au wc: 9.6k warnings: alcohol consumption (pls drink responsibly!!) a/n: for @k-vanity 's âfalling for youâ event! My prompts were London Fog (âYou said what to who now?! Why?!â) and Pumpkin Spice Latte (âExcuse me, but is this seat taken?â)Â // enormous thank you to @cheolism for the most gorgeous banner // and thank you to my lovely betas @lovetaroandtaemin and @tusswrites
summary: so you might have told vernon you loved him while drunk â now all you have to do is avoid him. forever.Â
The headache is real.
It feels like someone decided your skull was the perfect canvas for a jackhammer. Each throb sends waves of pain coursing through your brain, and even the soft hum of the world outside your window seems like an assault on your fragile state. If it wasnât for the fact that youâre pretty sure your last memory was of collapsing into your bed after a night of regrettable decisions, youâd swear you were dying.
You blink up at the ceiling, groaning as sunlight streams through the blinds, slicing through the dim room like a guilty conscience. Your eyes ache at the brightness, and you throw a hand over your face in an attempt to shield yourself from the assault. The cold sheets are a welcome contrast to the fire thatâs raging inside your head.
You wish for sleep, but it doesnât come. Instead, you're greeted by an annoyingly chipper voice, too loud for a Sunday morning at 11 a.m.
"Morning!" Seungkwan chirps, a little too cheerfully for someone who clearly has no understanding of the term hangover. He's holding a glass of water, like itâs the most exciting thing in the world, and you can't help but squint at him through half-closed eyes. Heâs got that same gleeful smile on his face, looking way too awake for someone who shares an apartment with someone who just wants to die right now.
"Seungkwan, please... Itâs too early for your brand of happiness," you croak, your voice hoarse and barely audible. Your throat feels like you swallowed sandpaper, and you barely have the strength to sit up.
"Well, itâs already late enough for me to help you feel better," he says with a grin thatâs too wide to be genuine, handing you the glass of water and an aspirin like itâs some kind of miracle cure. "You donât want to end up like last time, do you?"
You roll your eyes, trying to sit up but the world tilts dangerously. You clutch the glass like it might actually save you, your fingers trembling from the effort. "Last time?" you mutter, still a little too disoriented to make sense of anything. âI barely remember last night.â
Seungkwanâs grin stretches even wider. "Oh, last night was a memorable one," he says, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, like heâs got the best secret in the world.
You squint at him, struggling to keep your eyes open. "What do you mean by that?"
The moment it leaves your mouth, the memories come rushing back, one after another, like a broken dam finally giving way. You and Vernon had gone outside for some air, the cool night breeze refreshing against your skin. You remember the conversation turning quiet, the alcohol still buzzing in your veins, the way the breeze ruffled his hair, and then...
Oh god. Oh no.
You freeze, the blood draining from your face as your stomach drops. Your heart stutters in your chest as you try to piece it together. You had told Vernon you loved him. In your drunken haze, it had slipped out, but now? Now it feels like the kind of thing you would never, ever do if you werenât so far gone on cheap whiskey and bad decisions.
You look at Seungkwan, your face crumpling in embarrassment. "I... I told Vernon... I told him I love him."
Seungkwan blinks at you, the shock clear on his face. For a second, it seems like he doesnât even know how to respond. Then, his eyes widen comically, and a burst of laughter bursts from him. "You said what to who?!" He takes a step back, as if the sheer magnitude of your confession has physically knocked him off balance. "You confessed? To Vernon?" He cackles, his laugh loud and echoing in the quiet of your room.
You slump back against your pillow, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. You wish the floor would just swallow you up. "I didnât mean to! I was drunkâokay?" you mutter, your words barely making it out.
Seungkwan is practically vibrating with laughter. "Oh my god, you actually did it," he says between fits of giggles. "Thatâs soâwait, wait. What did Vernon say back?"
And thatâs when the panic sets in. You stare blankly at Seungkwan, your brain spinning. You want to remember, you need to remember what he said back, but itâs a complete blank. The memory of his face, his expression, even his wordsâtheyâre gone. As if it never happened. You feel a new wave of nausea rising in your stomach.
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to speak. "I donât remember," you confess, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
Seungkwan stops laughing, blinking at you like heâs just realized you might be serious. "What do you mean you donât remember?" he asks, sounding more confused than before.
You press the heel of your hand to your forehead, trying to steady your dizzying thoughts. "I... I canât remember what he said back. And thatâs worse than not hearing anything at all."
Seungkwanâs face falters for a second, then the teasing glint returns in his eyes. "Well... you have to face him, right? Heâs literally just down the hall," he points out, his voice softening as he sits on the edge of your bed. "And youâre gonna have to talk to him eventually. You canât avoid him forever."
You frown, looking at him as if he's spoken a foreign language. "And why the hell not?"
Seungkwan leans in, his finger counting off the reasons like heâs been preparing for this moment his whole life. "One: heâs our best friend. Two: he lives down the hall, not in another universe. And three..." He pauses, dramatically. "Heâs your BEST FRIEND."
You groan, rolling over and burying your face into your pillow, desperate to block out the light, the noise, and Seungkwanâs well-meaning logic. "You already said that," you mumble into the fabric, wishing the pillow could swallow you whole.
"Iâm emphasizing," Seungkwan replies, sitting back in a huff. "Emphasizing that he knows you like the back of his hand, stupid. Heâs not gonna let you avoid him."
You moan into the pillow. "I canât even think about facing him right now, Seungkwan. Not today."
"Tough. Youâre facing him eventually, whether you like it or not," Seungkwan says, but his voice softens, his hand brushing your back comfortingly. "But hey, Iâm your best friend. Iâm here to support you through whatever happens."
You just grunt in response, curling back into the pillow like it might somehow shield you from reality. "Great. As long as youâre here to watch me suffer."
Seungkwan grins, his voice full of mischief. "Thatâs the plan."
You can feel the weight of your poor life choices pressing down on you as you sit in the overpriced, over-crowded coffee shop, nursing the lukewarm disaster that is your latte. It's one of those days where everything tastes like regretâcoffee included. Your laptop screen blurs as you try to focus on your prelab. You're supposed to be working, supposed to be productive, but all you can do is mentally list everything that went wrong in your life in the past 48 hours.
The lab professor? Completely useless. Your grade? Already plummeting. And as for the whole Vernon situation? Yeah, let's not talk about that.
You can feel the throbbing pain in your temples as your mind drifts back to that nightâthe confession that slipped out of your mouth when you were way too drunk. The look on Vernonâs face... God, you're so embarrassed. If there was a hole to crawl into, youâd dive right in and never resurface.
Beside you, Seungkwan is breezing through his own prelab, the same one youâre supposed to be working on, but it seems like heâs in a completely different world. As usual. He taps away at his laptop, his fingers moving in a rhythm like heâs been here for hoursâwhen in reality, he probably hasnât even started yet. You scowl at your laptop as the blinking cursor mocks you for not getting anything done.
You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. "God, I hate this class. And I hate that professor," you mutter, rubbing your temples. "Why did I even sign up for this? Why is life like this?"
Seungkwan doesnât look up from his screen, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Because you're a glutton for punishment. You're just mad because the only thing you're getting out of this lab is the overpriced coffee."
You huff, sloshing your latte around in its cup in a way that makes you wish you could just drown in it. "Yeah, well, Iâm about to drown in this lab report if I donât figure it out soon."
"Shouldâve taken easier classes," Seungkwan snorts, and you shoot him a glare. He knows you better than anyone, and he knows you're not the type to shy away from a challenge. You donât even have the energy to argue, so you let him win this one.
The door chimes as someone enters, and your focus breaks. You glance up, hoping it's just some random student walking in to grab their iced coffee, but no.
Of course not.
You hear that low, familiar voice, the one that makes your heart do a little flip. "Is this seat taken?"
No. No. Fuck.
There, standing by the table, looking like he belongs in some glossy magazine for college students who know how to look effortlessly cool, is Vernon. The guy you still havenât figured out how to face after that monumental fuck-up of a confession two days ago. And now? Now heâs standing there, staring at you and Seungkwan with a hesitant smile, probably wondering if itâs safe to sit down or if youâre about to sprint out of here like a coward.
Seungkwan, the absolute bastard, beams at Vernon. "Oh no, itâs totally free," he says, too eager. He's so happy to make this as awkward as possible. You could almost feel the smugness radiating off him. "Come sit, Vernon. We could use the company!"
Your heart sinks into your stomach as Vernon takes the seat across from you, not missing the subtle shift in your posture. He looks at you with those eyes of his, eyes that are both too warm and too intense, and you feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You canât look at him. You canât.
You force a smile, but it feels like youâre pushing your lips together with a crowbar. "Uh, yeah. Just working on it," you mumble, barely even aware of what you just said. Your brain is too busy doing its best to not short-circuit. You take another sip of your latte, hoping the caffeine will somehow pull you together. It doesnât.
Seungkwan, the little devil, doesnât help at all. Heâs practically radiating glee, enjoying your discomfort far too much. "Yeah, Y/N here is just dying to finish her part of the report," he says, clearly trying to get a rise out of you. "But it's okay, sheâs doing just fine! Arenât you?" He shoots you a wink, but Vernon doesnât catch itâthank God.
Your eyes flick to your screen, looking for any excuse to not talk to Vernon right now. You just need to not look at him. "Actually, I forgot something," you blurt out, standing up abruptly, not even thinking it through. "I just... I need to grab something. Iâll be back in a second."
You donât wait for anyone to respond. You donât even look at Vernon as you grab your bag and make a hasty retreat to the counter. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and your breath feels shallow. This was a terrible idea. Why did you invite him to work on the prelab in the first place? Was it because you wanted an excuse to spend time with him? To not feel so much?
You donât know.
You leave the cafe altogether, your mind racing, and find yourself walking aimlessly for a few minutes, trying to cool off. The cold air outside stings your cheeks, but itâs a welcome distraction from the heat of embarrassment still flushing through your body.
You pull out your phone, needing something to take your mind off everything. It pings almost immediately with a message from Seungkwan:
Boo đ: so... how long are u gonna avoid him
You laugh weakly, but itâs more from disbelief than anything else. You text back quickly:
Y/N: iâm not avoiding him
Y/N: iâm just
Y/N: strategically distancing myself until i can look him in the eye without dying of shame
Boo đ: ur not gonna go back to the cafe because its too much?
Your phone dings again in quick succession.Â
Boo đ: u realize ur only making it worse right
You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip to suppress a groan. Oh god, Seungkwan, shut up.
Y/N: iâm already halfway across campus
Y/N: oh well, canât exactly go back now
Boo đ: he looks like you kicked him in the nuts and then ran away btw
Boo đ: iâm keeping him companyÂ
Boo đ: ur not getting away with this btw iâm never letting u live this down
You exhale loudly, already feeling the weight of your decision in the pit of your stomach. What did you think would happen? Youâve messed this up royally. Again.
Y/N: I hate you so much.
Boo đ: no u donât ! youâll see him again soon. probably tomorrow
Y/N: fuck you
Boo đ: love u too! donât worry iâll handle thisÂ
Boo đ: good luck with that prelab see u at home <3Â
You slump your shoulders in defeat, staring at the screen of your phone. Thereâs no getting out of this. Youâve somehow managed to make this even more awkward. Of course, Seungkwan would drag it out. You wouldnât expect any less from him.
You drag yourself back into the apartment, the weight of your failed escape attempt still heavy on your shoulders. The door slams behind you, and you sigh deeply, almost as if trying to shake the embarrassment off your body. You kick your shoes off and leave them by the door, your bag slung over your shoulder like a dead weight. Youâre so done with everything.
The apartment feels like itâs mocking youâseemingly quiet, except for the hum of Seungkwanâs obnoxiously loud voice floating from the living room. You hear the faint click of his phone screen as you shuffle toward the couch. You can practically feel him smirking at your impending doom even before you see him.
Sure enough, when you walk into the living room, heâs lounging on the couch, sprawled across it in his usual dramatic fashion. Heâs scrolling through his phone, one leg thrown over the side, looking like he hasnât had a care in the world since he woke up.Â
You throw yourself onto the couch next to him, feeling the familiar softness of the cushions sink beneath you. The weight of the last few hours presses down on your chest. Itâs so comfortable here, but you canât fully relax. Not with him sitting right next to you, clearly enjoying the aftermath of your spectacular mess.
âDonât even say it,â you groan, pushing yourself into the cushions like they might swallow you whole.
He doesnât even glance up from his phone. Instead, he lets out a small, knowing laugh. âSo... howâs the avoidance game going?â
You just close your eyes for a moment, willing yourself to disappear. âIâm never leaving my room again. Ever.â
Seungkwan bursts into laughter, the sound filling the small apartment and bouncing off the walls. Itâs enough to make your skin crawl, but you canât help but feel a bit of a tug at your own lips. Heâs genuinely enjoying your misery, and you hate it. âI mean, itâs been two days, and youâve already chickened out at the cafĂ©. Thatâs a solid record.â
You groan dramatically, rolling your head back against the cushion. âI didnât chicken out. I just... needed a moment to not make eye contact with him, okay?â
âSure, sure,â Seungkwan says, his voice laced with sarcasm. âThatâs why you bolted out of there like a squirrel avoiding a hawk.â
You push his shoulder weakly, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric of his hoodie. âShut up, Boo. You have no idea how embarrassing it was.â
âOf course I do,â he says smugly, setting his phone down on the coffee table with a soft thud. âI was the one trying to hold a conversation with Vernon while you were having your little meltdown across campus.â
âCan we please not talk about it?â You bury your face in your hands, muffling your groan of embarrassment.
Seungkwanâs voice is dripping with amusement. âWell, you better figure it out soon. You invited him to our cafĂ© session, and now youâre running away from your own mess. Itâs hilarious.â
You sit up, rubbing your face in exasperation. âIâm never going to be able to look him in the eye again.â
Seungkwan shrugs, his grin still wickedly satisfied. âWell, itâs not like you have much of a choice. I mean, unless youâre planning to live in that room of yours forever?â
You lean back against the couch, the soft fabric cool against your skin. You feel the weight of your thoughts settle in again, and with it, the overwhelming desire to hide from the world. âI canât,â you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. âHeâs gonna know Iâm avoiding him on purpose.â
âYeah, heâs not that dumb,â Seungkwan says, flipping through his phone lazily. âBut you know what? You could avoid him for a while. You just need to avoid... everything youâre supposed to do, forever.â
You turn your head slowly to look at him. âThatâs your solution? Run away?â
âPretty much,â Seungkwan says, completely unfazed. âBut you have to be more creative. Maybe pretend youâre dead? Or like you have the plague?â
You snort, despite yourself, the idea so absurd that it almost lightens the mood. âYeah, sure. Iâll just start wearing a sign around my neck: Please, donât talk to me. Iâm a walking disaster.â
Seungkwan grins, his eyes lighting up mischievously. âHonestly, I think itâs a good look for you.â
You roll your eyes, but you canât hold back a laugh. âYouâre the worst.â
Seungkwan stretches out, his grin wide and smug. âLook, I saved you today, but donât expect me to keep doing this forever. At some point, youâre on your own.â He reaches for his phone, ready to return to his lazy scrolling.
You sit up, the absurdity of the situation hitting you in waves. âYeah, Iâll figure it out... eventually.â
Seungkwan gives you a side-eye. âSure you will. But for now, enjoy the free ride, disaster queen.â
Itâs just your luck that, of all people, Vernon is your lab partner today. The second your professor calls your name, you feel your stomach twist into knots. You swear your internal groan echoes in the hum of the fluorescent lights above you. Why him?
Across the lab, Vernonâs already tugging on his gloves, eyeing the instructions on the counter like heâs got his shit together. You canât help but stare at him for a second, the way his hair falls messily across his forehead, the way he moves like he doesnât have a care in the world. The thought of having to work with him makes you feel like youâve been thrown into a pressure cooker, and youâre about to explode.
You try to focus, really, you do. But itâs impossible. Your brain keeps wandering back to him. His fucking hums. His stupid little smile. The way his dark eyes flicker up every now and then to make sure youâre still there. Itâs like he knows exactly how much heâs fucking with your head, and the worst part? Heâs probably not even trying.
A Bunsen burner hisses in the background, and the sound almost makes you flinch, like it's too loud in the otherwise quiet lab. You try to focus on the beaker in front of you. Try to just get through this. But itâs hard when all you can feel is the weight of his gaze on you.
âGot it, Y/N?â Vernonâs voice cuts through your thoughts. Heâs leaning against the counter now, watching you with a lazy grin, like he knows what he's doing to you.
Your face flushes involuntarily, and you shoot him a tight smile, hoping to play it cool. âYeah, got it,â you mumble, though your mind is a jumbled mess. Your hand shakes slightly as you pick up the pipette, and you swear he notices, but he doesnât say anything. Thatâs even worse. You hate how easy it is for him to get under your skin.
Itâs bad enough that youâre stuck with him, but now youâve got to get through an hour-long experiment without combusting. The tension is palpable, and itâs making you want to crawl out of your skin.
But then, just as youâre about to lose it, you spot Seungkwan strutting back from the fume hood. You swear you can feel the relief hit your chest like a tidal wave. Perfect.
Seungkwan doesnât seem to notice you until youâre already walking toward him, your feet moving on their own accord, desperate to make the switch. When he looks up, his gaze flickers over you, and that smirk creeps onto his lips. The one you know too well. The one that says, Iâm going to fuck with you now.
âWhatâs up, Y/N?â he asks, popping his gum. âNeed help with the chemical equations? Or is it more of a personal emergency?â
You throw your hands up, exasperated. âI need to switch lab partners, Seungkwan. Like, now.â
Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. âReally? Whatâs wrong? Does Vernonâs inability to mix chemicals properly scare you, or are you just that tired of looking at his face?â
You grimace, frustration bubbling in your chest. God, whyâs he gotta make it worse? âNo, itâs just⊠I canât focus with him staring at me every five seconds.â
Seungkwanâs smirk widens, and you can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. âOh, so thatâs what it is, huh? Youâre not focused because Vernon keeps looking at you like youâre his personal chemistry experiment?â
Your heart rate spikes. Fuck off, Seungkwan. âShut up, Iâm being serious,â you mutter, but you can hear the hitch in your voice, and it makes you want to punch yourself in the face.
Seungkwan doesnât let up, leaning in closer with that same cocky grin, looking far too pleased with himself. âIs that why youâve been staring at him for the last five minutes, then?â he teases, and you swear you can hear the little giggle in his voice. âI didnât realize we were doing that kind of experiment today.â
Your blood goes hot. âStop it!â you hiss, but you canât keep the embarrassed flush from spreading across your face. âI just need you to switch with me, Seungkwan. Thatâs it.â
Seungkwan chuckles lowly, clearly having way too much fun with this. âOh, okay. So you want me to switch with you just because you canât handle the heat, huh?â He taps his chin, like heâs thinking about it, but itâs obvious heâs already decided.
âFine,â you say, voice low but firm. âBut only if you actually want me to send that video of you drunkenly crying about chickens to the entire friend group. You remember that one, right? The one where you were saying, âThose chickens are my babies, I love them so muchâ?â
Seungkwanâs eyes widen, and for a second, you swear you see a flicker of panic. You almost smile, but you hold it in. Gotcha.
âNo,â he says, shaking his head like heâs trying to backpedal. âYou wouldnât.â
âOh, I absolutely would,â you reply smoothly, crossing your arms. You can feel the smug grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. âSo, how about it? You switch with me, or I make everyoneâs day a little more interesting?â
Seungkwan looks around the room, clearly considering his options. Heâs not stupid enough to let that video go public. âOkay, okay, fine. You win, Y/N. But you owe me for this one, big time.â
You give him a sweet smile. âDeal.â
Seungkwan walks over to Vernon, throwing his hands up dramatically. âVernon, buddy, looks like youâre stuck with me as your partner today.â
You barely suppress a laugh as Vernonâs head jerks up in surprise. âWait, what? Really?â
You take that as your cue and grab your stuff, moving toward Chanâs station. Youâre feeling lighter already, knowing the rest of this class wonât be nearly as awkward. Chanâs a great guyâeasygoing, level-headed, and most importantly, not Vernon.Â
You set your bag down on the counter and look over at Chan, whoâs already elbow-deep in his notes, completely unaware of the chaos you just caused. âHey, Chan,â you say, forcing a cheerful tone despite everything. âLooks like weâre partners now.â
He looks up with a bright smile, oblivious to the fact that heâs been dragged into your mess. âOh, hey, Y/N! Sounds good to me.â Heâs so sweet and always so positive, but⊠well, the thing is, Chan could not for the life of him keep track of chemical reactions if his life depended on it. This could be the worst decision youâve made today.
You sit down, a little defeated, as you adjust your gloves and open the instructions. Youâre partnered with Chan now, but nothing feels quite right. As sweet as he is, chemistry might as well be a foreign language to him. You glance back over at Vernonâs lab station, which, of course, is conveniently located just a few feet away. You can hear the familiar sound of Vernon and Seungkwanâs voices drifting toward you, but youâre so not ready to face them just yet.
You feel your chest tighten as you try to ignore it, but then Vernon speaks again. âI donât bite, Y/N,â he teases, his voice cutting through the air like a soft command. Itâs casual, playful even, but it does nothing to stop the heat that floods your face.
You swallow hard, praying the blush on your cheeks isnât visible. This is not the moment. Not the perfect moment to have him distract you. Your pulse picks up at the sound of his voice again, and you can almost feel his gaze on you. You donât look back, but you know heâs probably waiting for a response.
âY/N?â Chan says softly, his voice pulling you out of your mental spiral. âAre you okay?â
You quickly look away, feeling that familiar heat creeping up your neck. âIâm fine,â you mutter to yourself. âIâm fine.â
Your stomach flips as an idea strikes youâfake sick. Youâve done it before, and itâs a perfect way to buy yourself some time away from Vernon, maybe even the entire day.
Just get through this, and then you can run away forever.
Your body starts to tremble slightly as you put a hand to your forehead, doing your best to sound miserable. âUgh, I donât feel so good...â
Chan immediately rushes to your side, concern flashing across his face, and you can hear Seungkwan's snort of disbelief. Vernon looks at you with a furrowed brow, clearly not buying it. But heâs too polite to say anything. âYou sure? You look kinda green.â
Thatâs your cue. You make a dramatic move, leaning over the lab counter, your hands gripping it as if you're about to collapse. Your stomach gives another exaggerated roll as you close your eyes. âI think Iâm gonna be sick,â you say in a voice thatâs so over the top, it sounds like it came straight out of a soap opera.
You expect Vernon to panic, maybe grab your arm to steady you, but instead, he just stares at you, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. âReally?â he asks slowly, clearly unconvinced. "Or is it that you want to run away again?"
Oh my god. You freeze, horrified that Vernon might actually be onto you. You try to hide your terror behind your palm, rubbing your eyes like youâre just too tired to keep up the act. âNo! No... Iâm definitely sick,â you say with a cough for added effect.
But Vernon isnât having it. He places his hands on his hips, shaking his head with a small chuckle. âYouâre not even trying to hide it. Just admit youâre avoiding me. Whatâs the deal?â
You panic, fully aware that your ridiculous performance isnât going to fool him for long. You grab your bag off the back of the chair with a look of pure desperation. âNo, no! I justâuh, I need to go to the bathroom! Iâll be right back, promise!â
Before Chan can protest, you push past him, stumbling out of the lab with as much speed as your shaking legs can muster. You burst out into the hallway, nearly running into a group of students on their way to their next class. Too close. You force your breathing to steady as you walk briskly, acting like you havenât just staged the most obvious escape ever.
You round the corner, ducking into the nearest restroom. You push open the door, locking it behind you, leaning against the cool tile wall as you try to gather yourself. What is wrong with you?
Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Seungkwan, of course.
Boo đ: i was joking when i said u should get the plague idiot
Boo đ: ur the worst actor iâve ever seen
Y/N: i had to ok
Y/N: this is a nightmare.
Your phone buzzes again almost immediately.Â
Boo đ: ur so obvious itâs kinda gross
Boo đ: chanâs gonna fail this lab for u. also. U NEED TO TALK TO VERNON AT SOME POINT
Y/N: not today!
Itâs Friday night. One week since that confession. And honestly? All you want right now is a shot of shitty tequila, a cheap beer, and some damn good music to drown out the past seven days. Youâre tired of thinking about it. Youâre tired of pretending like last weekend never happened.
The second you and Seungkwan step through the door of Mingyuâs house, you're hit with a wave of noise. Itâs too loud, the bass too heavy, but somehow, thatâs exactly what you need. The house is packed, the kind of party that screams âletâs fuck up everything in the best way possible.â You spot Mingyu behind the kitchen counter, already wearing that signature smirk of his, mixing drinks for whoeverâs brave enough to stand in line. But thenâof courseâyour night has to take a turn.
Vernon.
Heâs sprawled out on the couch, head bopping to some random SoundCloud rap, looking way too at ease in his flannel and backwards cap. Fucking perfect. You mentally groan. Youâd hoped for at least a few hours of peace tonight, but apparently, thatâs not in the cards.
Seungkwan nudges you, elbow digging into your side. âWell, well, well,â he says with that knowing grin. âGuess your worst nightmare is here.â
You shove him back, rolling your eyes. âDonât make it worse.â
âToo late,â Seungkwan chirps. âNow, letâs get some tequila in your system.â
You head straight for the kitchen, not bothering with small talk. The music is too loud, the room too warm, and your head is already swimming with the thought of one thing: tequila. You pull the bottle off the shelf with the same speed as if itâs your lifeline, and without hesitation, you pour yourself a generous shot. No chaser. Just straight into your system.
Seungkwan eyes you carefully from the counter. âCareful,â he singsongs in your ear, his voice dripping with teasing. âThatâs what got you into this mess in the first place.â
You shoot him a sideways glance, the corners of your lips twitching upward. âShut up,â you mutter, then down the tequila like itâs water. The burn sears down your throat, and the warmth spreads through your chest almost immediately.
You reach for another shot whenâjust your fucking luckâVernon walks into the kitchen. His eyes land on you instantly, like he knew exactly where to find you. You want to swallow him wholeâno, just pretend he's not even hereâ but you know thatâs not going to happen.
âWow, look whoâs getting to the good stuff early,â Vernon says, voice as smooth as ever. His gaze flicks down to your hand around the bottle, and then right back up to your face, and something in his eyes makes you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.
Seungkwan shoots you a sideways look, his smirk turning even more mischievous. With a dramatic sigh, he pushes himself off the counter, clearly done with this conversation already. âAlright, well, have fun with that,â he says in a sing-songy voice, clearly aware of how uncomfortable this is getting. Then, he makes his exit, blowing you a mocking kiss from the doorway before disappearing into the living room.
You roll your eyes at his back, shooting him a silent curse with your eyes, but the moment Vernon steps forward, all that annoyance evaporates into something else entirely. Your focus is back on him, and that damn smirk on his face.
âDidnât know tequila was your thing,â Vernon says casually, leaning against the counter next to you. You move to pour another shot, but Vernon steps closer, cornering you against the counter with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. The proximity is almost suffocating, and you feel your pulse spike in your neck, your heart pounding. You try not to make eye contact, your gaze fixed firmly on the bottle in your hand, as if it could somehow shield you from him.
Vernonâs smirk widens, and he leans in slightly. âYâknow, you need to look at me to make conversation,â he says, voice low and teasing.
Before you can even process whatâs happening, his hand slides under your jaw, his fingers gently but firmly lifting your chin until you have no choice but to meet his eyes.
Your breath hitches in your throat, and for a second, you forget to breathe. His eyes are almost burning into you, and you canât look awayânot that you want to.
For a second, you forget about everything. Your entire focus narrows to the guy standing in front of you, the guy whoâs been fucking with your head for over a week now. You try to focus, try to snap yourself out of it, but damnâhe looks good. Too good. That stupid backwards cap, the flannel shirt thatâs just loose enough, the way his jawline sharpens under the dim kitchen light. You swallow, trying to keep your cool, but fuck, heâs too close. Too damn close. You want to push him away, but the closeness has your body freezing, every nerve on edge.
Itâs the same feeling you had last week. And itâs happening again.
Fuck. No. This is not how itâs supposed to go.
Your mind races, trying to think of something, anything, to get out of this. Thenâlike a miracleâMingyu strolls by, not even realizing the chaos youâre trying to keep under control. You latch onto him like a lifeline.
âMingyu! HI!â you shout, ducking under Vernonâs arm and making a beeline for him. You grip his arm with a little too much force, probably dragging him away from whatever conversation he was having with someone else. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but you donât even give him a chance to ask why youâre acting like a madman.
âLong time no see! Letâs catch up!â you practically drag him out of the kitchen before Vernon can say anything, and Mingyu shoots a glance over his shoulder at you. He looks confused, but soon the music envelops you, and he happily throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you onto the dance floor.
The music is a blur of bass and off-key notes, but the tequila in your system helps dull everything, smooths out the jagged edges of your thoughts. Mingyu is practically yelling in your ear, his voice way too loud for the volume of the song, but you canât help but laugh at his unrelenting enthusiasm. Heâs screaming the lyrics to some cheesy pop songâsomething from five years ago that you canât even remember the name ofâbut heâs grinning, and you canât help but mirror his energy. For a moment, the heat of the room and the chaos of the party become distant, fading into the background, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you forget about Vernon. You forget about everything.
Mingyu pulls you into a ridiculous spin, and you laugh, the sound lost in the music. His arm tightens around your shoulders as he twirls you back into his chest, but just as you feel yourself getting lost in the rhythm, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Itâs Seungkwan.
You swipe the screen without thinking, still caught in the whirl of the dance floor.
Boo đ: Â heâs staring at you
Your heart drops.
You freeze mid-spin, suddenly feeling too warm, too exposed, like youâre still back in that kitchen, caught between the tequila, the tension, and the pull of Vernonâs eyes. The phone screen flickers in your hand, but you donât even need to read the message again to know what it means. You know Seungkwanâs been watching the two of you dance around each other, and you know who he is. Vernonâs watching you. Heâs staring.
You glance over your shoulder instinctively, and thereâacross the room, leaning against the doorframeâis Vernon. That tantalizing smirk is still in place, like itâs carved into his face. His eyes are on you, not even trying to hide it, and that stupid look on his face says everything. The way he watches you makes your skin tingle, and the realization hits you harder than the tequila burn in your stomach.
âYo, you good?â Mingyuâs voice cuts through the noise, pulling you back to the present. You swallow hard, still trying to shake the feeling of Vernonâs gaze on you. You force a smile and nod, but all you can think about is the way Vernon is watching you.
âMingyu,â you murmur, grabbing his wrist, âI think I need a drink. Iâll be right back.â
Before he can protest, you make a beeline for the kitchen again, your feet moving quicker than you can process. You need space. You need air. The heat of the dance floor still clings to your skin, but itâs nothing compared to the suffocating feeling thatâs starting to build in your chest. The tequila's starting to wear off, but your nerves are still shot, and you canât get rid of the image of Vernon leaning against the doorframe, eyes fixed on you like heâs just waiting for you to make a move.
The kitchenâs quieter, the music a distant hum, and youâre almost grateful for the space, the absence of people. You grab the tequila bottle again, not caring if anyoneâs watching. You pour yourself another shot, but before you can even bring it to your lips, you hear footsteps approaching. You donât need to look up to know who it is.
âI think we should talk,â Vernonâs voice sounds closer than you expect. You try not to flinch, but you canât stop yourself from stiffening. You move to step away, but then his hand is on the counter next to you, trapping you in place. You donât want to look at him, not after everything thatâs happened.
âIâm serious,â he adds, tone shifting just slightly. Thereâs a quiet edge to his voice, a softness youâve never heard before, but it only makes you hesitate more.
You finally raise your gaze, and for the first time tonight, you meet his eyes. His smirk is still there, but thereâs something else tooâsomething you canât quite place.
âI donât want to talk to you right now,â you say, your voice lower than you intended.
Vernonâs eyes flicker for a moment, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face, but the momentâs gone too quickly. He chuckles lightly, not mocking, but with a sense of finality.
âFair enough.â He straightens up, taking a step back, giving you a little more space, but still standing there. âBut just so you knowâŠâ His voice softens again, the teasing replaced with something a little too sincere for your comfort. âIâm not going anywhere.â
Fuck. Thatâs it. You canât be here anymore.
You spin on your heel, heading straight for Seungkwan, whoâs been knee-deep in a Mario Kart championship with Soonyoung and Seokmin. The game is so intense that Seungkwan barely notices you storming up to him, too busy yelling at the screen as he tries to secure his victory.
âTime to go,â you say, your voice sharp enough that even Seungkwan canât ignore it.
He looks up from his game, a little confused. âWhat? We just GOT HERE!â
âTIME TO GO, SEUNGKWAN,â you hiss, a little louder this time, unable to mask the frustration thatâs bubbling up in your chest.
Seungkwan groans, annoyed that his Mario Kart dominance is being interrupted, but he stands up anyway, muttering something about the injustice of it all.
But then, like a fucking curse, Vernon appears in front of you, stepping into your path just as you try to make your exit. His presence feels almost too heavy in the moment, his gaze unrelenting as his lips curl into that same familiar smirk.
âLeaving so early?â he asks, voice laced with amusement, and his eyes lock on yours, steady and impossible to ignore. It makes your stomach flip, and you feel that heat in your cheeks you canât seem to get rid of.
You avoid his gaze, turning your face just enough to escape the intensity of it. âOh yeah, early morning,â you mumble, desperate to get out of there. âLots of stuff to do, classes and allâŠâ
Vernon tilts his head slightly, his smirk widening as if he can see right through your bullshit. âTomorrowâs Saturday,â he says, voice matter-of-fact, as if calling out your feeble excuse is somehow amusing to him.
Shit.
You try to force a smile through it, but it feels like itâs made of plastic, fake and thin. You avoid his gaze like itâs radioactive. âYeah, uh⊠just, you knowâokay, bye!â You nearly shove Seungkwan out the door before Vernon can say another word.
The second the door slams shut behind you, Seungkwan bursts out laughing, his voice loud in the quiet of the carpark.
âYouâre such a mess,â he cackles, still trying to catch his breath. âDid you seriously try to pull the early morning classes excuse? Like, no one knows tomorrowâs Saturday?â
You shoot him a middle finger, too tired to even care. âShut up, Seungkwan. Just drive.â
He laughs harder, but at least he doesnât push it further. Seungkwanâs car engine roars to life, and as he drives off, the weight of the night slowly lifts from your shoulders. But in the back of your mind, you can still feel Vernonâs eyes on you, like they never really left.
Dinner a week later is nothing fancyâjust some ramen you scrounged up after dragging yourself through another shit show of a week. The kitchen, warm and dimly lit by the overhead light, feels like a small refuge, and for a second, youâre fine with being here. The steam rising from your bowl swirls in the air, and you twirl the noodles absentmindedly, trying to ignore the weight of everything slowly settling over you.
Seungkwanâs sitting across from you, casually slurping his ramen, but thereâs something in the way his eyes flicker up, a strange glint in them, that makes you pause. The silence stretches for a moment, the kind that feels like itâs waiting for something, and then, as if he canât hold it in any longer, he drops the bomb.
âVernonâs coming over later.â
You freeze, a piece of noodle hanging from your chopsticks, your eyes wide. âWHAT?â You nearly choke on the noodles, the shock making you forget to swallow. âWhy the hell is he coming over? Are youâseriously?â
Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, lips curling into a grin that doesnât match his feigned innocence. âJust to study,â he says, shrugging like itâs the most casual thing in the world. âOur lab midterm is in a couple of days, and we canât figure out the damn ratios for the prelab.â
Your mind stutters, trying to catch up with what heâs saying. Vernon, your uncomfortably charming classmate, is coming here. Of course he is. âSeungkwan, you know Iââ You stop, frustrated, searching for words that arenât quite coming. This is your house, your space, and youâre already struggling with the thought of being alone with him. The awkward tension from the last few days suddenly feels so much heavier now.
Seungkwan, not missing a beat, looks over at you with a teasing grin. âHavenât you run away enough? Itâs been, like, almost two weeks.â Heâs got that smirk on his face again, the one that says he knows exactly what heâs doing, pushing all the right buttons to get you riled up.
You glare at him, trying to muster some kind of defense, but your words come out quieter than you expect. âIâm not running away,â you snap, though itâs weak. Itâs been two weeks of exactly that. âIâm justâbusy. You know, college stuff.â
Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, and you feel your resolve crumble under his knowing look. âYeah, sure. College stuff. Thatâs totally why youâve been dodging Vernon for the past week. Canât blame you thoughâguyâs got a way of making things... uncomfortable.â He chuckles at his own joke, but thereâs an edge of teasing that cuts too close to the truth.
You groan, rubbing your face in frustration. âStop making this worse.â
âHey, Iâm just saying,â Seungkwan shrugs, his grin widening. âHavenât you thought about actually talking to him? Itâs not like youâve got that much time before he shows up.â
âDonât remind me,â you mutter, then, more to yourself, âI didnât plan this. He didnât plan this. This is... This is all justââ You stop yourself, shaking your head, your words trailing off.
Seungkwan chuckles again, but this time, itâs softer, almost like heâs giving you space to breathe. âLook, Iâm just saying, maybe stop running away for once. Youâll figure it out.â He slaps you lightly on the back, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
But before you can even gather your thoughts, Seungkwanâs phone rings. He picks it up immediately, urgency lacing his voice, and youâre taken off guard.
âSeokmin?â He pauses, listening. âWhat? Is the fish⊠what? It canât breathe??â He gasps, standing up quickly. âIâll be right there, man, I swear! Iâm coming now!â
He hangs up, looking at you, his face twisting into exaggerated concern. âEmergency. Seokminâs fish is dying.â
You blink, disbelief painted on your face. âYouâre fucking joking. Youâre actually leaving me with Vernon? Alone?â
âYup!â Seungkwan says, already halfway to the door. âYouâre on your own, Y/N! Donât burn the place down!â His laugh echoes as he bolts out, leaving you standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring after him in utter disbelief.
Great. Just great.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rings. Your stomach does a flip, nerves bubbling in your chest. You almost consider pretending youâre not home, hiding in your bedroom until Vernon leaves. But thatâs childish, and you canât avoid this forever. With a sigh, you pull yourself to the door and open it, finding Vernon standing there, looking annoyingly comfortable with that goddamn grin on his face.
âHi,â he says, voice teasing but warm. âSo, Seungkwan tells me weâre doing some studying?â
You step aside to let him in. The last thing you want is to be rude, but the silence that follows as you both walk to the kitchen feels suffocating. You can practically feel the tension hanging in the air, thick with all the things youâve been avoiding. His presence lingers, like itâs always been there, and yet itâs different now.
Vernon leans against the counter casually, and you busy yourself with rearranging things on the counter, anything to avoid looking at him. You can feel his eyes on you, but you canât make yourself meet them. Every time you think about what happened, your heart races, and the words you said to him feel like a blur. But theyâre always there, hovering on the edge of your thoughts.
Finally, Vernon breaks the silence, his voice softer than before. âYouâve been avoiding me.â
You freeze. The air in the room seems to tighten, and his words land with the weight of a trap you didnât see coming.
âWhat?â You try to laugh it off, but the sound comes out rough, more strained than you intended. âPshhhh nooooo.â
âYou have.â Vernon pushes off the counter, stepping closer to you. His movements are deliberate, but thereâs a softness in them as he closes the space. His eyes remain locked on yours, steady and searching, like heâs waiting for you to crack, to finally admit something. You canât look away, your breath shallow, the pulse at your neck pounding hard. âAnd you canât even look me in the eye. Did I do something wrong?â
His voice is gentle, almost too gentle, and it makes your chest tighten. You shift uncomfortably, your arms folding across your body, a silent defense against the intensity of his gaze. The room feels smaller now, every inch of space filled with the heat between you. You feel trapped, your heart hammering in your chest, yet there's nowhere you'd rather beâand that's the problem.
âNo, Vern, I justââ You stop, sucking in a breath, trying to steady yourself. âI said something I didnât mean the other night.â
Vernonâs eyes narrow, a flicker of something in themârecognition, maybe? The way his lips part slightly, a mix of confusion and understanding. âYou didnât mean it?â
The words hit like a physical blow, and your stomach twists. You want to take them back, but instead, you find yourself retreating into yourself, avoiding his gaze. âIâwhat?â
âDid you mean it?â Vernon presses, and you swear you can feel his gaze like a weight on your skin. Heâs not backing off, not letting this go.
Youâre caught. You open your mouth, but no words come out, and the silence between you feels like itâs suffocating. You feel the heat rising to your face, your hands trembling by your sides.
âMean what?ïżœïżœïżœ you finally manage, voice quieter than youâd like.
He steps even closer now, his body inches from yours, and his gaze doesnât falter. His lips barely part as he speaks, the words lingering in the air between you. âDonât play dumb with me, Y/N. You told me you loved me.â
The room spins, the ground beneath you feeling unsteady. You blink, your chest tightening as the memory of that night rushes back, sharp and overwhelming. Your hands move restlessly, clutching at the counter as if itâll keep you from falling.
âBut I was drunkââ You stumble over the words, desperate to explain, but his gaze doesnât waver. His eyes are steady, unwavering, and you canât escape them.
âDrunk words are sober thoughts,â Vernon says softly, his voice firm, but thereâs no anger in itâonly a certainty that rattles you.
âI just didnât mean to put you on the spotââ You try again, but this time, he stops you, his tone more reassuring than you expect.
âYou didnât,â he says quietly, his hand reaching out, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face in a surprisingly tender gesture. âYou didnât put me on the spot.â
âOkay?â you ask, your voice uncertain. You canât tell if youâve just misunderstood everything or if this moment has shifted entirely. You blink at him, still trying to catch up.
Vernon smiles then, a soft, almost affectionate smile, and the air between you shifts. The tension eases just a little, but itâs still thick, like somethingâs hanging in the balance. âYou donât remember, do you?â
âNoâŠâ you whisper, the words coming out almost too quietly, but Vernon just laughs.
âI said I loved you too, idiot.â
You freeze. The words crash into your chest, and you feel the ground tilt beneath you again. This time, itâs harder to recover from. âYouâyou WHAT?â
Vernon chuckles, his grin widening, and this time, itâs teasing, almost mischievous. âCome on,â he says, stepping closer. His chest is almost brushing yours now. âI love you too. Can you stop running away now?â
âI WASNâT!â you protest, but the words fall flat, not convincing even yourself. Your body is tense, but his proximity makes your heart race in a way you donât quite understand.
âYou were,â Vernon says, his smirk softening just enough to catch you off guard. You feel your knees go weak at the way his gaze softens, like heâs pulling you into something youâre not sure youâre ready for. âBut it was kinda cute, yâknow?â
Before you can even think of a response, he's right there, too closeâlike, uncomfortably close. His presence feels like itâs swallowing up all the space between you, and suddenly, youâre backed up against the counter, like heâs somehow managed to get you cornered without even trying. Itâs all too familiar, too much like that night at the party. You canât help but stiffen, but itâs not bad, just... intense.
You can feel the heat radiating off him now, like itâs pulling you in, and the way heâs leaning in just enough that you canât help but tilt your head to meet his eyesâyour heart starts hammering in your chest. Too close. Way too close. Your body wants to take a step back, but you donât, mostly because youâre pretty sure youâre not even sure where to go from here.
And he knows it. You can see it in the way heâs standing, like he's completely unbothered, like itâs no big deal that heâs got you backed up into a corner. Your shoulders feel tense, but your feet just stay planted where they are, like theyâve been glued to the floor. His gaze locks with yours, and you can feel that pull, that thing that makes it hard to breatheâlike your chest is getting tight and youâre not sure if you want to run or stay.
Thereâs this low buzz in the air between you two, and you donât know how much of it is him or how much is just your heart freaking out. His breath is right there, close enough that youâre aware of the way it catches every time you look at him. And you canât even tell if youâre annoyed at how close heâs gotten or if your mind is too distracted by how nice it feels to have him this near.
Youâre trapped, but youâre not sure if you mind it. Itâs like your chest is about to burst from the tension, or maybe itâs going to stop completely. Either way, you're not entirely sure which one you're hoping for.
âNo more running,â he murmurs, his voice low, steady, eyes never leaving yours. Thereâs no doubt in his tone, no hesitation, like heâs already made up his mind. The space between you two feels charged now, the air thick with the unspoken.
âNo more running,â you echo, the words slipping out before you can stop them, and for the first time, they feel right. Youâre not sure why, but you believe it.
And then, Vernon leans in, his lips brushing against yours.
The kiss is slow, soft at first, like heâs giving you space to catch up. His lips are warm and a little sweet, tasting faintly of mint from the gum heâs been chewing earlier. You inhale through your nose, catching the subtle scent of his cologneâfresh, with a hint of wood and citrusâthat wraps around you like itâs always been there, like itâs familiar. Every part of him seems to make the world outside feel distant, unimportant. The tension, the uncertainty, the past few daysâthey donât matter anymore.Â
The pressure of his lips increases, more certain now, and the warmth of his mouth sends a flutter through you. You lean in, responding, your hand instinctively finding the chain around his neck, pulling him closer, as if you canât quite get enough of him. Itâs slow, deliberate, like he wants to savor it just as much as you do. For the first time in days, everything feels like itâs in its right place.
When he pulls back, itâs just enough to speak, his lips still lingering on yours. âYâknow,â he says with a playful grin, âWe couldâve been doing this two weeks ago if you werenât so emotionally constipated.â
You laugh, breathless, pulling him closer by his chain. The heat creeping up your neck is almost unbearable. âShut up,â you protest, half-smiling. âYou canât blame a girl for what she says when sheâs drunk.â
âI wonât,â he agrees with a smirk, kissing you again, this time a little more urgently. âBut I canât make any promises about Seungkwan.â
From the hallway, you hear Seungkwanâs unmistakable voice, a triumphant cheer echoing from the door.
#vernon x reader#vernon x you#thediamondlifenetwork#mansaenetwork#kvanity#kfallforyou#vernon imagines#vernon headcanons#chwe vernon x reader#chwe vernon imagines#chwe vernon x you#chwe hansol x reader#chwe hansol x you#chwe hansol imagines#hansol x you#hansol x reader#hansol imagines#chwe hansol headcanons#chwe vernon headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen drabbles#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#svt x reader#svt x you#svt reactions#svt drabbles
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ââ secret santa,, james potter [part one]
pairing: james potter x fem!reader
synopsis: in which you become the secret santa of none other than james potter
genre: fluff
warnings: none
author's note: ik it isn't even december, oh well, i couldn't help myself :)
word count: 1.1k
part two!
â â â â â â â â â â SNOW FLUTTERED GENTLY AGAINST the tall, frosted windows of the Gryffindor common room, casting a soft glow over the cosy space. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and the air buzzed with anticipation as the Gryffindor gang gathered in a circle on the floor, laughing and sipping on mugs of cocoa.
Sirius, always the self-appointed leader of mischief, stood atop one of the squishy armchairs like he was addressing a crowd of thousands. His dark hair flopped dramatically as he gestured toward the large bowl of folded parchment in his hands.
âLend me your ears!â Sirius announced with flair. âIt is time for the greatest, most legendary Gryffindor traditionâour annual Secret Santa! The only thing that rivals this sacred event is when James hexed Snivellusâââ
âSirius!â Lily interrupted, fixing him with a sharp glare, though the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. âIf you could manage to keep it PG, thatâd be great.â
Sirius sighed dramatically, holding a hand to his chest. âEvans, your lack of faith wounds me. Iâm a model of propriety.â
Remus snorted softly from his seat on the arm of the couch. âSure you are.â
âCan we please get on with it before Sirius bursts into a sonnet about himself?â James chimed in, sprawled out on the floor with his hands behind his head. His untamable hair stuck out in every direction, and his glasses were slightly askew. He was grinning, the kind of grin that could light up an entire room.
âYouâre just eager because youâre convinced youâll get Evans again,â Marlene teased, leaning over to flick James on the shoulder.
James shot her a mock-wounded look. âFor your information, I have no such hopes. My heart will graciously accept any giftâexcept socks. Sirius.â
Sirius gasped. âI would never.â
âYou absolutely would,â Dorcas piped up with a smirk, earning a round of laughter from the group.
âAlright, alright!â Sirius cut in, gesturing dramatically toward the bowl in his hands. âThe rules are simple: pick a name, donât tell anyone who youâve got, and if your gift sucks, prepare to be ruthlessly mocked.â
âSounds fair,â Peter muttered as he scratched his nose.
One by one, the group leaned forward to pluck a slip of parchment from the bowl. You waited until your turn, your fingers brushing against the cool paper as you grabbed a folded chit. Your heart skipped a beat as you unfolded it and saw the name:
James Potter.
Your eyes instinctively darted toward him. James was mid-laugh, probably at some ridiculous quip Sirius had made, and there was a mischievous sparkle in his hazel eyes. You quickly looked away before anyone could notice the heat rising to your cheeks.
Of all the names you couldâve drawn, it had to be James.
From the moment names were drawn, the common room became a hotbed of shenanigans.
âOi, love,â James said casually the next evening as you sat near the fire, working on your Potions essay. âYou can just tell me who youâve got, you know. Save yourself the stress.â
You didnât even look up from your parchment. âNice try, Potter. Not happening.â
He leaned back in his chair, clutching his chest dramatically. âYou wound me! After everything weâve been through?â
âIâm doing you a favour,â you said with a smirk, finally glancing up. âImagine the disappointment if I told you someone else got you and not your precious Evans.â
His grin widened, and there was a playful glint in his eyes. âWho says I want Evans?â
You raised an eyebrow. âYouâve only been after her for, what, three years?â
James shrugged, leaning forward on his elbows. âMaybe Iâve had a change of heart. Maybe thereâs someone else whoâs caught my eye.â
Your cheeks burned, and you quickly ducked your head to pretend you were reading your essay. âWell, whoever they are, Iâm sure they pity you.â
He threw his head back with a laugh, and your stomach did an annoying little flip. Merlin, he was impossible.
The chaos only deepened as Christmas approached. James became increasingly annoying in his quest to figure out his Secret Santa, trying to weasel answers out of everyone.
âWormtail, itâs you, isnât it?â
âWhat? No!â Peter said, flustered, clutching his Charms textbook.
âItâs Moony, then,â James decided, turning to Remus.
âIâm not saying anything,â Remus said calmly, flipping a page in his book. âBut if you keep pestering me, Iâll make sure whoever has you gets you socks.â
âTraitors, all of you,â James declared, throwing himself onto the couch in defeat.
âI heard Sirius in Honeydukes the other day asking the shopkeeper if they could make a giant chocolate wolf. Like, life-sized.â Marlene whispered, her eyes wide with glee.
You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh. âYouâre kidding.â
âI wish I were,â Marlene said, grinning. âThe poor clerk looked like they didnât know whether to laugh or run.â
âAre you two gossiping about me?â Sirius asked, turning to narrow his eyes at you and Marlene.
âAlways,â Marlene quipped, not missing a beat.
Sirius looked pleased. âAs you should.â
You spent hours agonising over Jamesâ gift. He was impossible to shop forâhe had everything he needed, and he didnât seem the type to care much about material things. But you wanted it to be special, something that would show youâd noticed the little things about him.
Finally, inspiration struck.
You bought him a small, leather-bound notebook, the kind with a soft cover and faint golden stars embossed on the front. James was always scribbling somethingâQuidditch plays, spell ideas, random doodles. It seemed like the perfect fit.
Inside the front cover, you wrote:
For all your brilliant (and slightly ridiculous) ideas. - âĄ
You also found a tiny enchanted Snitch pin at a shop in Hogsmeade. It was gold and delicate, and its tiny wings occasionally fluttered when touched. You figured it was subtle enough to wear but still a nod to his love for Quidditch.
The common room glowed with the warmth of fairy lights strung around the tree, and the group had gathered again, this time with a pile of wrapped gifts beneath the branches. Sirius had, naturally, donned a Santa hat and was gleefully handing out presents.
When it was Jamesâ turn, he tore into the wrapping paper with childlike enthusiasm, his grin widening as he pulled out the notebook and pin.
âThis isâŠâ He trailed off, turning the notebook over in his hands. His hazel eyes softened as he read the note inside, and a small, genuine smile played on his lips. âThis is brilliant.â
He held up the pin, letting it catch the light, and glanced around the room. âWhoever got me this, youâve officially got better taste than Sirius.â
âOi!â Sirius protested, though he was laughing.
Jamesâ gaze flickered to you for a brief moment, and your heart stuttered. Did he know? The way his smile lingered made you wonder, but you quickly looked away, your cheeks warm.
For now, you were content with the way his smile lit up the room.
#divider by fairytopea#marauders#marauders era#marauders fanfic#marauders fanfiction#james potter#james fleamont potter#james potter fanfiction#james potter imagine#james potter fluff#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#marlene mckinnon#dorcas meadowes#lily evans
833 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bloodline (Part 1) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut
Outline: Your family arranged for you to marry Marvolo Gaunt. Fortunately, your best friend Ominis steps up and makes sure to save you from such a fate.
Word count: 4â515
Warnings: English isnât my first language so possible misspelled or misplaced words, arranged marriage, abusive families (mentioned), first time s*x, friends to lovers and explicit smut.
(( Part 2 - Please )) - (( Part 3 - Heirloom )) - (( Masterlist ))
The familiar flip-flap of owls entering the great hall through the windows resounded in Ominisâ ears, excited chatter rising from the students sitting at the tables as, one by one, they received their mail. The sound of paper falling on a wooden surface nearby piqued his curiosity, he didnât receive letters often, nor did you or Sebastian but an envelope had unmistakably landed in front of one of you.
Your clothes rustled as you moved to take the paper in your hand, tearing apart the top of the envelope as your owl took flight again, its wings almost grazing Ominisâs hair on its way back to the owlery.
Despite the noise of other students all around, Ominis distinctly heard you take a sharp inhale of air, your silence as you read the letter addressed to you feeling somewhat tense.
âIs everything alright ?â He asked you, but you didnât reply right away, too focused on whatever you were reading.
He waited a few more minutes, noticing the way your legs grew restless and your movements became agitated. You were sitting at the opposite side of the table from him and your foot bumped into his a few times as you nervously readjusted your posture.
He was too polite to insist and didnât want to push you to share something you might want to keep for yourself, so even though he was dying to question you about the mysterious letter you had received and why its content seemed to upset you, he simply cleared his throat to remind you that he was waiting for an answer to his question.
âItâs a letter from my family.â You explained, with a slight tremble in your voice. âThey say that they arranged a partnership for me, effective immediately after graduation.â
âA partnership ? You mean some kind of professional training ?â Sebastian asked, before biting into an apple.
âThat would be an internship.â Ominis corrected him, shaking his head. âI think she meant something more intimate than that.â
âLike⊠A relationship ?â Sebastian inquired, still munching on his fruit.
âA marriage.â You stated, defeated.
âI didnât know you were dating someone.â
âI am not.â
âItâs common for wealthy and powerful families such as hers to arrange weddings, especially if itâs a matter of keeping their bloodline alive and pure.â Ominis explained, a shiver running down his spine. That was something his family did too, they were obsessed with maintaining the quality of their bloodline, suitable matches were carefully chosen, sometimes within their own family members.
âItâs more of a business contract than a marriage.â You added, with a sigh. âAnd my parents are making it very clear that I donât have any say in the matter.â
âDo you know whoâs the lucky fiancĂ©, though ?â Sebastian asked, seemingly taking such terrible news lightly. Way too lightly. It was a tragedy, really. You deserved better than to be forced into a loveless marriage under the pretense of keeping a bloodline going, securing the pride and superiority of the worst kind of wizards to exist. Maybe Sebastian couldnât quite grasp the gravity of what you had been asked to do but Ominis knew all too well how you must feel, being robbed of your free will and freedom by a controlling and corrupted family.
âItâs Marvolo Gaunt.â You answered, bluntly, before getting up from your seat on the bench and leaving the great hall in a rush. Although Ominis couldnât see, he felt the intensity of your gaze piercing right through him, until you were no longer in the room.
His chest tightened and his body tensed at the sound of his older brotherâs name. Marvolo probably was the most cruel wizard he knew, aside from their father. Although they shared the same blood, the same family and the same education, Ominis wasnât afraid to say that his brother was immensely deranged and should have been locked up in Azkaban a long time ago, like the rest of his family actually. The only reason rules didnât apply to them and they were free to commit the most vile and cruel crimes without facing punishment was because they were Gaunts, descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin and held more power and wealth than any other family of wizards in the country.
And now you were going to be one of them.
He couldnât imagine you, taking part in the cruel acts his family committed for fun. And if you didnât, they would find a way to punish you for it, just like they had punished him in the past. The Gaunts were dangerous, and you needed to stay away from them, no matter what.
Ominis stood up, reaching for his wand to guide his steps through the corridors and halls of the castle. He needed to find you and he knew his wand would know exactly where to take him. He was racking his brain, trying to find a solution to save you from such a doomed fate as he followed mindlessly the path his wand indicated. Eventually, he found himself outside, in a narrow courtyard. Wind rustled through the leaves of a nearby tree and caressed his face, sending a cold shiver through his body. He couldnât feel any rays of sunshine warming his skin, meaning it must be a rather cloudy afternoon. He could hear the sound of water moving in the fountain at the center of the courtyard, birds singing in the sky⊠And soft muffled sobs. His wand twitched, tugging him in your direction.
âIâm sorry this is happening to you.â Ominis told you, once he was standing in front of you. He could hear the sobs shaking your body as clear as day but still felt compelled to bring his hand to your face, wiping the warm teardrops away from your cheeks with his thumb. âMarvolo really isnât a suitable match for you.â
âItâs alright, I knew this day would come eventually. I was just hoping my parents wouldnât force me into this as soon as I was done with school.â You replied, another teardrop falling from your lashes and rolling down your cheek..
âThere must be something we can do about it.â Ominis said, instinctively brushing off the fresh tear from your face. âWhat if you were engaged to someone else ?â
You laughed although you didnât find anything amusing about the situation.
âDuring my seven years here, no one ever courted me, no one attempted to ask me on a date, I have no other prospects. And you know as well as I do that my parents shouldnât risk angering the Gaunts.â
Ominis furrowed his brows. You were right, if your parents broke their promise to marry you off to one of his siblings, they might not make it out alive. If his parents had arranged for you to be wed to Marvolo, it meant they considered your blood pure enough to perpetuate their dignified bloodline. It was a rare occurrence, usually no one was deemed worthy enough so chances were that theyâd do everything in their power to ensure that youâd become a Gaunt now that they had approved of you.
If you broke the arrangement to be with someone else, a wizard of lower class and reputation, his father would take it as an offense and youâd have to pay for such a daring act. If you married Marvolo, then surely he would take advantage of you and of your obligation to satisfy your family and his, heâd be cruel and violent, he wouldnât care about you and would never treat you with the respect you deserved⊠There was only one option left.
âMarry me.â Ominis stated, determined.
âWhat ? What are you saying ?â You spoke, dumbstruck by the sudden suggestion.
âMy parents want you to ensure the purity of our bloodline, your parents want you to earn the status and power that come with my last name⊠So marry me instead.â
âOminis, you donât have to. I canât ask you to do that for me, thatâsâŠâ You argued, shaking your head.
âItâs a matter of time before my parents arrange a wedding for me too. I think Iâd much rather be married to someone I consider a friend than a stranger they would have picked for me. So really, youâd be the one doing me a favor.â Ominis continued, his heart beating faster as he spoke. He knew it was a good idea, it would save you from Marvolo, from his family and, despite being a Gaunt himself, he would do his best to treat you well. He would never hurt you, never mock you, never give you any reason to regret choosing him instead of his brotherâŠ
So please, say yes.
His mother adjusted his tie. She told him that the all black suit she had gotten tailored made for him suited him better than anything he ever wore. She said it brought his blue eyes out, and that everyone would be able to tell that he was one of the heirs of the Gaunt name. Ominis wasnât sure what was meant to be a compliment and what was meant as a jab, but he simply nodded at everything she said.
By the time he walked down to the garden of the imposing manor, his motherâs arm looped in his, he felt dizzy with anxiety. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst out at any minute. His ribcage felt so tight around his lungs that he could barely breathe correctly, and the more time went by, the more sweaty his hands became.
He could hear the chatter of the numerous guests his parents had invited as they took place around the lectern that had been placed at the very center of the garden. The familiar smell of roses tickled his nose, meaning the white rose bushes must be in full bloom in this season. He could feel the sunshine on his face and the warm summer air on his skin. It was a beautiful day on the gloomy manor.
His mother let go of his arm, leaving him standing on his own in front of what he imagined was an impressive audience of grumpy wizards. He still couldnât quite catch his breath and, the moment the ambient chatter died down, his throat instantly felt constricted and his body tensed up.
He heard the whispers among the crowd and the footsteps approaching in his direction. It was unmistakably the way of walking of a man, confident and determined while the lighter steps next to his were more hesitant. In the past seven years, Ominis had memorized the sound of your steps. He also could recognize your smell in a crowd and knew exactly how soft your skin felt under his fingers. He could tell if your hair was up or let down from the way you touched and played with it and he knew that the quiet, almost imperceptible breaths you let out meant that you felt nervous. He knew all of this and more yet, he had no idea what it felt like to kiss your lips or hold you in his arms and that felt awfully wrong, considering what you both were about to do.
The man that had accompanied you walked away, leaving you standing with Ominis in front of prying, curious eyes. You didnât say anything to each other, too busy trying to not pass out from how anxious you both felt. The contract was written and placed on the pupil in front of you, its tricky clauses oozing with dark magic.
It wasnât just any contract. It was a cursed one, meant to bind you together forever. The words til death do us part took a different meaning as you signed your name at the bottom of the page, knowing that if you ever tried to leave him, youâd most likely be instantly killed by some kind of dark spell that probably was forbidden to cast. The promises you made by signing this contract were definitive and the consequences if you failed to hold them were deadly. At the very least, you both could feel thankful that you werenât making such vows to a complete stranger.
Ominis signed the parchment too, the ink dripping from the quill dark red like blood. The contract was sealed with applause and illegal magic, making you his wife. For the rest of your lives.
The dinner that followed the ceremony was dull and mostly boring, a display of Mister Gauntâs power and a lecture on his narrow views about muggles and mudblood wizards, as the guests listened quietly to his speech, nodding in agreement every once in a while. Eventually, Ominis took his leave, pretending that he was exhausted from the events of the day. You excused yourself too, glad to find him waiting for you in the hallway.
He knew the manor he grew up in in details and could navigate it without the help of his wand. He guided you upstairs, through the dark corridor that led to his bedroom. He opened the door for you, letting you step inside first before following you in and shutting the door behind him. He had never had any guest in his bedroom before and that realization made him feel uneasy. He knew that the servants kept his room neat and tidy - just how he liked it - but he wasnât sure of what you were going to think about the ancient desk he sat at to write his letters to Sebastian, or the books that lined the shelves of bookcases that reached the ceiling. And what about the four poster bed he slept in, he had always found it large and comfortable but suddenly he worried it might be too small to share with you.
âOnce we move into our own home weâll be able to sleep in separate rooms. But for now, I think itâs better if we share mine.â He said, hoping that you wouldnât feel too uncomfortable here until then.
To convince his parents to let him marry you instead of his brother, he had pretended he was madly, irredeemably in love with you. At first, they didnât like it, saying that love made men foolish and pushed them to their demise but, eventually, they came to the realization that him wanting you so badly would serve the purpose of continuing their bloodline. Many heirs could be born from such desires.
Now that you were here, in the intimacy of his bedroom, he couldnât help but think about it. How amazing it would be to kiss you, touch you, make you his as everybody expected him to. But he wouldnât do it. Mainly because he was a gentleman and had promised himself that he would never, ever, disrespect you. And also because he was determined to not give his parents the satisfaction of having any heirs from him. The Gaunt bloodline was poison, corrupted with dark practices and immorality. Sooner or later, one of them would cause unforgivable chaos in the world, so he was determined to prevent it from happening anyway he could.
âIâm sorry that you had to do this.â You told him, taking a closer look at the books on his nightstand. You sounded sincere, as if you felt guilty that he now had the privilege of calling you his wife. âYou should have been able to marry someone you love.â
Ominis had never felt anything remotely close to what was described in the books he read for someone, nor did he experience the crushes Sebastian so often had on a random person every once in a while. The only woman that had somehow interested him was you. He cared about you. And maybe it was an acceptable foundation for a marriage.
âYou should have been able to do that too.â You sat on his bed, your wedding dress crunching up above your legs. He approached, heart hammering in his chest. âBut for what itâs worth, I consider myself lucky to call you my wife.â
You smiled and reached out to take his hand in yours. His palms were sweaty, as per usual when you were around, but you didnât seem bothered by that, pulling him so that heâd sit on the bed next to you.
âDo you mind if I try something ?â You asked him, a bit hesitantly. He took a sharp inhale of air, his body straightening up with sudden tension. In appearance, he seemed quite uncomfortable to be sitting so close to you, and even more now that you had asked him such a question, but he nodded despite hating being unsure of what to expect.
You moved closer, slowly. Your scent tickled his nose, he knew it by heart, he had fell asleep more than once to the faint perfume you left on the common roomâs couch pillows, usually prompting him to dream of you. He felt your soft, warm breath caress his skin, indicating that your face was inching impossibly close towards his. He held his breath as you pressed your delicate lips to his, giving him a chaste kiss to seal your union, far from prying eyes.
He kept his eyes closed when you moved away, conflicted emotions passing on his face. He wasnât expecting to feel so many tingles in his stomach after such a light and short kiss, yet even now that you had moved away, he still felt millions of butterflies tingling under his skin. He left out the breath he had been holding, taking just enough air to say your name, softly.
âIâm sorry, I just wanted to know what it felt like.â You apologized, and he knew from the sound of your voice that you must be blushing.
He had wondered what it would feel like to kiss you too, more than heâd like to admit. A friend shouldnât be curious about such things, it felt wrong to him, like he was betraying you by having such intimate thoughts about you. He hated how conflicted he felt whenever he woke up with an erection because he had spent the night dreaming of you touching him, and he hated how his primal instinct sometimes took over and heâd end up brushing against your chest or your back under the pretense that he couldnât see what he was doing. He shouldnât feel so desperate for his friend to kiss him again, and surely he shouldnât want to be given permission to explore the body of his friend in details⊠But perhaps, if such desires werenât acceptable between friends, they could be considered reasonable ones to have for his wifeâŠ
âDonât apologize, weâre married now after all.â He gulped, feeling the temperature of his body rising. âKissing is one of the many things that will be expected from us.â
You moved, suddenly growing agitated next to him. He could hear the rustle of the fabric of your wedding dress, the sound of clasps being opened and knots getting untied. He didnât dare to move, not even breathe, as he carefully listened for a clue as to what you were up to. Then, he felt your hands on his chest, slowly undoing the buttons of his vest, one by one.
âWhat are you doing ?â He asked, his breath catching in his throat when his hands, resting on his lap, brushed against your bare thighs.
âAnother thing that is expected of us.â You simply replied, now dragging his vest down his shoulders, before repeating the same actions to remove his shirt. He heard your surprised, yet quiet, gasp and the way your breathing became labored at the sight of his chest. He felt your fingers tracing the lines of his abs, brushing against the blond hair under his navel and grazing the elastic of his pants.
He said your name in a whisper, wanting it to be a warning but coming out like a desperate plea. You shouldnât be touching him like this, not because it was what your families required of you. You should only do it because you wanted to. So he knew he had to stop you before it went too far, before he wouldnât be able to refuse, before his body was set ablaze by his repressed lust for yours otherwise, there would be no way of stopping him anymore. He would consume you. Worship you. Devour you. And his promise to never disrespect you would be just a distant memory already, because none of the things he wanted to do to you were respectable.
But you werenât making it easy for him to keep his word. Your hand was still tracing the lines of his chest like he was some kind of sculpture you were admiring, taking in every detail like he would. And when you moved to sit on his lap, straddling him and trapping him between you and the bed, he tensed up and groaned.
He brought his hands to your hips, telling himself that heâd gently guide you off of him so that heâd be able to remain a gentleman and not take advantage of the admirable loyalty you had for your family with your determination to complete your marital duties right away, but when he felt nothing but your warm skin under his fingers, when you leaned forward to press your naked chest against his and plant another soft kiss on his lips, the remaining of his will power to resist you dissolved.
âWe shouldnât be doing this, weâre friends.â He said, because that was what he usually told himself whenever he thought about you while rubbing himself in the shower. Except he wasnât the one gripping on his erection this time. You had easily opened up his pants and now the evidence of his desire for you was held tightly in your hand. Your thumb stroked the tip of his erection, spreading the clear drop of precum that had escaped from it over the sensitive pink skin.
âWeâre not friends anymore, Ominis. Weâre married.â You corrected him, your words destroying the only argument he had to convince himself to not behave like some kind of wild animal as he couldnât seem to stop his hands from exploring your naked body. âI wasnât allowed to organize my wedding, chose my dress or invite my friends⊠Donât rob me from having a beautiful wedding night. Please.â
His erection twitched in your hand. You were asking so nicely, so politely, for something so intense and passionate, it made him even harder. He put his arm around your waist, securely holding you as he removed you from his lap and laid you down on his bed with a strength you never expected him to have.
âAre you sure this is what you want ?â He inquired, holding himself above you with his hands gripping the headboard, his pants and underwear down to his knees.
âAbsolutely.â You confirmed, with a shudder of excitement.
âVery well.â His voice was low, revealing just how badly he wanted this too. He placed a hand on your knee and followed the path all the way up to your core. He could feel the wetness and warmth coming from your center, begging for his attention. He traced the slit between your legs a few times, making you gasp with anticipation. Then, he pushed a finger passed your entrance, your whimper resounding in his ears. He moved his hand in a back and forth motion, not really aiming to pleasure you this way but trying to memorize a path he couldnât see.
He took his finger out, bringing his hand back to his impatient cock. He wiped your wetness over his tip, mixing it with the fresh drops of precum that coated his skin. Once most of his hard length was slick and sticky, he brought his tip exactly where his finger had been, rubbing it between your wet folds to gather even more moisture before finally pushing it inside you. He heard you gasp loudly and he did too, the tightness of your cunt taking him by surprise.
He easlily managed to slide even deeper, burying his entire length inside of you with a satisfied sigh. He could hear your panting breaths, your soft cries in reaction to his movements inside you and the way you moaned his name, encouraging him to rock his hips against yours a few times.
It was nothing like he had thought it would be. His hand had never made him feel as good as you did, your warmth, wetness and tightness around him were intoxicating. The most wonderful thing he had ever experienced.
He slowly pulled himself almost all the way out, only to shove himself back in with more force. He could feel his tip hitting deep inside you, pleasure building in his abdomen with each of his quick pushes.
The sounds you made were music to his ears, the way you reacted to each of his thrusts was delightful, better than what he had imagined in his most vivid fantasies. He never expected you to be so loud, perfectly showing him how good he was making you feel. He increased his speed and you moaned even louder, practically crying out his name.
He felt your legs closing around his waist, keeping him close while your nails dug into his back, the whole bed shaking in rythym with his movements. Was he too rough ? How could he not be ? It was impossible to be more gentle when the pleasure he felt with each thrust kept intensifying, he was going to lose his mind, chasing the feeling, building it up until he couldnât take it anymore.
You cried out one more time and your body tensed up, tightening around him so viciously that he finally reached his climax, instantly filling you up with his release. You kept your legs around him, your body spasming with intense pleasure as he struggled to catch his breath for a moment, his thoughts slowly coming back into order.
He waited until your body stopped twitching to remove himself, feeling your shudder as he pulled his spent erection out of you. You still were softly panting, your chest rising and falling under his hand while the other still clasped tightly the headboard. He leaned over, easily finding your lips from which breathless gasps still escaped. He kissed you, gently, as a way to apologize for losing control of himself and felt relieved when you returned his kiss even more fervently.
He moved to his side, lying down next to you to give you enough space to catch your breath but you inched closer, nuzzling your naked body against his in a cuddle that felt even more intimate than what he had just did to you.
âThank you.â You said softly, sounding truly happy. Ominis smiled, his fingers absently caressing your back, playing with strands of your now messy hair. âIâm glad to have you as my husband.â
Husband. The word turned in his head, reminding him that you now were officially a couple. Mrs Ominis Gaunt; his best friend, his wife, his lover⊠His.
⥠- (( Tip Jar )) - âĄ
Next in this series;
#ominis gaunt x you#smut#smutty fanfiction#ominis x you#ominis gaunt smut#ominis smut#ominis x y/n#ominis imagine#hogwarts legacy ominis#ominis x reader#ominis gaunt#ominis x mc#ominis x oc#ominis fanart#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy smut#hogwarts legacy imagine#hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x y/n#slytherin boys#x reader#x you#x you smut#x reader smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Under Control
Le Sserafim's Kim Chaewon x Male reader
AN: First time writing smut and male reader. all for the request of my friend. (you know who you are)
Chaewon had always been the kind of person who thrived on control, keeping people at armâs length with her sharp tongue and biting wit. Even before Yunjin met her, Chaewon had already cemented a reputation for being difficultâa self-proclaimed âbratâ who could both charm and irritate in equal measure. Her mastery in pushing buttons was unmatched; it was as if she derived amusement from digging under peopleâs skin, just to watch them squirm.
Tonight was no different.
The soft hum of the café filled the background as Yunjin glanced at Chaewon from across the table. The overhead lights cast a warm glow, contrasting with the chill of the iced coffee Yunjin gripped in her hand. Outside, the faint sound of rain tapping against the windows added a rhythm to the evening, a subtle underscore to the tension simmering between them.
"You know unnie," Yunjin muttered, her patience starting to fray, "one of these days, your attitude is going to backfire." She took a long sip, savoring the brief respite as the coolness of the drink soothed her frustration.
Chaewon, lounging back in her chair with her usual casual defiance, smirked. The sharp lines of her bob cut swayed slightly as she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with the challenge she knew Yunjin was trying to avoid. "Backfire? Please. You know people love me for it, they pretty much beg me just to be in the same room. I can't help that I'm all that"
The confidence in her voice was almost palpable, filling the space around them. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass, a small, idle gesture that betrayed just how much she reveled in Yunjin's irritation. It was a game she loved to playâpushing, prodding, and watching to see how far she could go.
Yunjin sighed, rolling her eyes, the exhale carrying the weight of her exasperation. "It's exhausting, unnie. You keep everyone at a distance, do you know how many people come up to me and the rest of the members begging us to pass on a message to you. Not everyoneâs going to play along with your games forever, you know."
Chaewon merely shrugged, her smirk unfazed. "Maybe I just haven't met someone interesting enough to bother with, actually no, it's impossible because no one will be able to stop me" She leaned forward slightly, the playful air around her intensifying. The soft light caught the edge of her grin, casting a mischievous shadow over her sharp features.
But Yunjin wasnât letting it slide this time. Her eyes narrowed, lips twitching as a sly smile began to form. The cafĂ©âs ambient noise faded for a moment as she leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Oh, donât worry. Thatâs about to change."
For the first time that night, Chaewon's smirk faltered. She blinked, her brow furrowing just slightly as she caught the shift in Yunjinâs tone. There was something different here, something she couldn't quite place. âWhat are you plotting now?â The suspicion in her voice was thinly veiled, her usual bravado giving way to the sliver of wariness that had begun to creep in.
The café lights seemed to dim just a fraction as Yunjin picked up her phone, her fingers dancing over the screen with a practiced ease, the number wasn't saved but her fingers seemed to by typing out of muscle memory. Her smile grew, her excitement barely contained as she made the call, sealing the fate of the days to come.
âHey⊠yeah its Jen, I need to borrow you⊠no no no, not for me but for a friendâ
---
Days later, the sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a deep orange glow over the cafĂ©âs interior. Chaewonâs arrival was met with the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversations blending together. She slid into her usual seat across from Yunjin, her sharp eyes immediately picking up on her friendâs uncharacteristic excitement.
"Okay, spill." Chaewonâs eyebrow arched as she studied Yunjinâs barely concealed glee. "Whatâs going on? Youâve got that look again."
Yunjin leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that seemed to hover between them. "Youâre going to love him."
Chaewon crossed her arms, her posture stiffening as skepticism washed over her. The cafĂ©âs warm light bathed her in an amber hue, highlighting the suspicion etched into her features. âWhat? Who are you talking about? What are you planning, Yunjin?â
Yunjinâs grin widened, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes. âJust trust me. Heâs perfect for you, in more ways than one.â
A faint drizzle had begun outside, the rain tapping lightly against the window panes as Chaewonâs curiosity was piqued despite her better judgment. She huffed, feigning disinterest even though her mind was already racing through the possibilities. âI swear, if hes like anyone of the weirdos iâve met i'm going to kill youâ
âOh, donât worry about that,â Yunjin interjected with a barely suppressed chuckle. âHeâs not what youâre expecting.â
The rain outside grew heavier, the pattering against the glass intensifying as if matching the undercurrent of tension that began to fill the space between them. Chaewonâs gaze flickered to the window, watching the droplets streak down before returning to Yunjin, her suspicion deepening. She could feel something shiftingâsomething inevitable on the horizon, just out of reach.
âCmon it's almost timeâ the red head pulled her leader out of her chair as the excitement was too much for her to handle.
---
The barâs atmosphere was different from the quiet warmth of the cafĂ©âdarker, more intimate. The amber glow of low-hanging lights bathed the space in a soft golden hue, casting long shadows across the floor. The air was thick with the scent of worn leather and whiskey, mingling with the low murmur of voices and the steady thrum of background music. It was the perfect setting for what was about to unfold.
Yunjin leaned against the bar, tapping her nails on the counter as Chaewon adjusted in her seat. The space was comfortable, the kind of place they frequented, but something about the air tonight felt heavier, more charged. Chaewonâs eyes flitted toward the door as it swung open.
In walked Y/N.
He moved with a quiet, deliberate confidence that immediately drew attention. His tall, broad frame seemed to absorb the space around him as he made his way across the room, his dark eyes scanning before locking onto Chaewonâs. She felt the shift immediatelyâa faint flutter in her chest that she was quick to squash. Her fingers tightened around her glass, the condensation wetting her palm.
There was something about him that irritated her. The way he walked with such ease, as if the room bent to his will, set her on edge. Who did he think he was?
âUnnie, this is Y/NâY/N, meet Chaewon,â Yunjin said with a grin, the playful glint in her eyes betraying her enjoyment of the situation. She greeted Y/N with a hug, whispering something quickly to him "You know what to do." before turning back to Chaewon.
Y/N extended a hand toward Chaewon, but she didnât move. Her smirk widened as she surveyed him, her posture cool, detached, as if she were appraising him like a figure in a gallery she was already bored of.
âChaewon,â Y/N greeted, his voice deep and steady. âIâve heard a lot about you.â
Chaewonâs smirk remained, but there was a sharpness in her gaze as she tilted her head. âOh really? All good things, I hope,â she drawled, the sarcasm dripping from her words, âOr are you here to try and do what other couldn'tâ
Y/N lowered his hand without a hint of hesitation, his smile never faltering. âYunjin did say you have a knack for getting what you want,â he responded smoothly, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. âShe said you can be a bit⊠bratty when things donât go your way.â
Chaewonâs expression shifted, her smirk vanishing, replaced with a cold, sharp glare. âExcuse me? Bratty?â The word lingered on her tongue like a bad taste. "Thatâs a bit much, donât you think?â
Y/N shrugged, his gaze calm and unyielding. âWell, she did say youâre good at using that charm of yours to manipulate situations in your favor. Iâd call that bratty.â
Chaewon leaned back, crossing her arms in defiance. âManipulate? I prefer to think of it as persuasion, and I don't even have to try, It's not my fault they bend over backwards for me. â Her voice was haughty, each syllable dripping with superiority. She tilted her chin up, daring him to challenge her.
Y/N didnât rise to the bait. His response was calm, measured. âWhatever you want to call it. Itâs a fine line between persuasion and manipulation, though, isnât it?â
Chaewonâs fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, her eyes narrowing as she felt her control slipping, just a little. âYou think you know me? You think you can come in here and figure me out with a few words?â
He smiled, slow and deliberate. âI donât know everything about you,â he admitted, âbut I know enough to see through the act.â
Her smirk faltered.
Y/N leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his voice soft but laced with confidence. âYou hide behind that attitude because it makes you feel powerful. Itâs how you keep people at your fingertips. But Iâm not playing your game.â
The air between them thickened, the space closing as Chaewon leaned in, her glare icy. âYou think youâre different? Special?â Her voice lowered, venom in every word. âYouâre just like the others. And youâll crumble, just like they did.â
Y/Nâs gaze didnât waver, his smile deepening slightly. âIâm not like the others. I wonât let you push me around.â He paused, letting the weight of his words hang between them. âYouâre not as tough as you pretend to be.â
Chaewonâs breath hitched. The words cut deeper than she wanted to admit, and for the first time in a long while, she felt off-balance. Vulnerable.
But pride was a stubborn thing.
She straightened, forcing her usual smirk back into place. â I heard that speech way too much. Do you really think you can handle me?â she asked, her voice dripping with arrogance, even though a flicker of doubt crept into her mind.
Y/Nâs gaze softened, though his confidence never wavered. âI donât need to handle you, Chaewon. I just know that youâre not as untouchable as you want everyone to believe.â
Chaewon leaned in closer, her voice low and dangerous. â I'd like to see you try and prove it. I need a good laughâ
Y/Nâs smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a quiet, unshakable confidence. âDonât worry,â he murmured, âI will.â
Just then, Yunjin came back to grab her bag that she left next to her leader. Sensing the charged energy between them she knew it was time. âIâll be back in a minute,â she said casually, grabbing her bag. âDonât kill each other while Iâm gone,â she added with a wink before slipping toward the restroom.
Moments later, Chaewonâs phone chimed softly. She glanced down, seeing a message from Yunjin, who had left her seat.
Yunjin: His safe word is cantaloupe, I thought you should know. I told him not to mention it, but better safe than sorry. Have fun! xoxo
Chaewon stared at the text, her brow furrowing. "Safe word?" she muttered under her breath.
Before she could make sense of it, Y/N leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Yunjin has a blabber mouth, doesnât she?" His voice was low, a quiet murmur laced with amusement. "She told me what you are. And what you need."
Chaewonâs cheeks flushed at his words, though she fought to maintain her composure. She pushed him back slightly with a scoff, though her voice wavered with a trace of uncertainty. " She might know a lot but she doesn't know everything about me"
Y/Nâs smirk deepened, his dark eyes gleaming with a quiet intensity. "Youâre a fake," he said matter-of-factly. "You go around pretending to be something youâre not, just hoping one person can challenge you. but deep down, I know the type of person you are. I've seen them multiple times. Yunjin knows it, too. You want to be put in your place. You need to be taught a lesson."
The words stung, but Chaewon couldnât deny the way they ignited something deep inside herâfear, anticipation, and a thrill she couldnât quite place. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to respond, her voice filled with false bravado. "And who do you think you are to teach me anything?"
Y/Nâs expression didnât waver. He leaned back slightly, his calmness almost maddening. "Someone who wonât let you get away with it." His voice was a low rumble, a quiet challenge that seemed to vibrate in the air between them.
It was a challenge she couldnât resist, though hesitation lingered beneath her bravado. Her pride wouldnât allow her to back down, even as curiosity gnawed at her. "I bet youâre all talk and no bite," she said, crossing her arms defiantly.Â
Chaewon stood up with a huff, her expression a mix of determination and uncertainty, the storm outside mirroring the turmoil inside her. âWell, get on with it. Letâs go to the place where I will inevitably prove you wrong."
---
Once they arrived at his apartment, Chaewon felt a surge of confidence, believing she had the upper hand. The interior was cozy and inviting almost like there was a family inside, with dim lighting casting long shadows across the walls. The scent of something warm and delicious wafted through the air, enveloping her senses and putting her at ease. Chaewon looked around, feeling a sense of control return as she surveyed the space. âSo, this is your home?â she said, a playful smirk on her lips. âNice ambiance, a little soft for someone with tough words donât you think? Iâm not impressed .â
Y/N turned to face her, his expression unreadable as he watched her closely. Chaewons pride was strong, really strong but seeing the look of the man in front of her For the first time in a long time, Chaewon felt vulnerableâtruly vulnerable.
He looked at her with a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Strip," he said, his voice a command that sent a shiver down her spine. His command echoed through the quiet space. Chaewon's eyes widened, but she didn't move. "I said strip," he repeated, his tone unyielding.
Her hand started to move but it stopped, âWhat? You don't get to tell me that, if anything you should be the one stripping firstâ The Idols heart was pounding and she didn't know why but she was slowly crumbling.
âI'm not going to ask againâ that's all Y/N responded with but his words held such power. They stared at each other for a while. Chaewonâs eyes were the first to break under the the pressure of Y/Nâs stare
With a huff, she began to remove her clothes, each article dropping to the floor like a declaration of war. She felt his gaze on her, hot and assessing, as she revealed her body to him. Her cheeks burned with a mix of anger and arousal. Who did he think he was, ordering her around like this? And who was she? to blindly follow orders.
But as she stood before him in nothing but her matching bra and panties, her group's title on the hem of both, she felt a strange sense of vulnerability. Her usual armor of snark and sass had been stripped away, leaving her exposed and...wet?. She could feel the dampness growing between her thighs, and she hated it.
"On your knees," he said, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from arguing. She dropped to the floor, her knees bending on its own, her eyes flashing up at him with defiance. "Now,â he started, staring into her eyes âtell me, who's in charge here?"
Chaewon opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. She knew the answer, but she didn't want to admit it. The power she had clung to so fiercely was slipping through her fingers like sand. She could feel it, the shift in dynamics, the tipping of the scales.
Y/N stepped closer, his hand reaching down to cup her face, slightly squishing her cheeks together. "Answer me" he said, there was no room for argument in his tone.âI am?â Chaewon forced out. Her tone answered the question for her. He squeezed her cheeks tighter as he stared down onto her eyes. She couldn't stand him staring at her like that, and involuntarily her voice responded âYou areâ . It was quite as she was still clinging on the small thread of pride she had left, He let off the pressure on her cheeks. Before caressing it with his thumb â Correct and tonight, you're going to learn what happens when you misbehave."
The air grew thick with anticipation, the soft lights casting a warm, flickering glow across their bodies. She got picked up with ease and placed on a brown leather couch. She was sitting on it as he stood above her. Chaewon felt the heat of his hand as it trailed down her neck, over her collarbone, and down to the swell of her breasts. She gasped, her body betraying her.
He chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. "So eager," he murmured, he grabbed her short hair and forced her to look down, her black underwear had a very visible wet mark. Chaewon stared at it in shock. Why is her body liking this? He then had his thumb circling her hardened nipple through the fabric of her bra. "But I do have a rule for girls like you, no cumming until I say so."
Her eyes widened, and she felt a jolt of panic. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go, he was supposed to be the one begging, like every other guy she had been with. Not her, especially not on the couch just in the middle of a living room. But as his hands continued to explore her body, setting every inch of her on fire, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she had met her match.
Y/N's touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the middle of her panty, teasing and taunting her. She squirmed, desperate for more, for the relief she knew he could give her. But he remained in control, his eyes never leaving hers as he toyed with her.
"More" she whispered, hating herself for the need in her voice.
A small smile appeared on Y/Nâs face âwhat was that?â Chaewon did not want to repeat herself, but as he kept tracing his fingers just inches to where she wants it, her words came out without a thought
âMore!â this time it was louder
He leaned down, his lips a mere breath away from hers. "Not yet," he said, his voice a soft growl. "I want to hear you beg just a little while longer. It will be good practice for what you will endure"
The humiliation burned, but the desire was stronger. Chaewon had never begged for anything in her life, but as his hand slid down to her soaking wet panties, she found herself doing just that. "Please!," she cried, her pride crumbling like sand.
Y/N's eyes gleamed with victory, and he finally gave her what she needed. His fingers slipped inside her easily, stroking her with a skill that had her back arching and her eyes rolling back in her head. It was never easy for her. The amount of fake orgasms she had to do was a number she wasn't proud of. But almost instantly she felt the beginnings of an orgasm build, her body tightening around him like a vice.
It felt amazing but just as she reached the peak, he pulled away, leaving her trembling and desperate. "Not yet," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You still haven't earned it."
The night had turned into a battle of wills, Chaewon's pride clashing with her desperation. She begged, she pleaded, she cursed, but he remained unflappable. He could hear it in her voice that her heart wasn't in it yet.. Each time she was brought to the edge, he would pull back, leaving her gasping for air and begging for release.
It was a dance of power, one she had never experienced before. And as much as she hated to admit it, she found herself enjoying the thrill of the chase.
Finally, in what felt like hours for Chaewon, the last piece of pride hanging on by a thread had snapped, the unbreakable had been broken andâŠÂ
She broke.
"Y/N please, I'll do anything!" she panted, her voice raw with need. "Please, let me cum. I can't take it anymore, you win, PLEASE!"
Y/N's smile was wicked as he leaned down, his breath hot against her skin. "Anything?"
Her nod was frantic. "Anything. Please Y/N! "
With a chuckle, he leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Then, my dear princess, prepare to be tamed."
The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized that she had no idea what she had just agreed to. But in that moment, with the storm outside mirroring the tumult within her, she didn't care.
He picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom with an ease that belied his strength. The rain pattered against the windows like a drumbeat, setting the rhythm for what was to come. He laid her down on his large bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly stripped away her remaining clothes.
The thunder rumbled in the distance, a prelude to the storm he was about to unleash on her. Chaewon felt her body respond, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was his, utterly and completely.
And she had never felt more alive.
Y/N's touch grew more insistent, his fingers delving into her wetness, stroking her until she was mindless with need. His lips followed the path his eyes had taken earlier, kissing and nipping at her skin. Each touch was calculated to drive her to the brink of insanity. Chaewon could feel the tension in the air thicken, coiling around them like a living thing.
Her breath came in desperate pants, her body arching towards him. "Please," she begged again, the word falling from her lips like a prayer.
He smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "Since you asked so nicely, Iâll shorten the time. Just hold on a little longer okay?" he murmured, his hand moving to her throbbing clit. He rubbed slow circles, the pressure just right, and she could feel the beginnings of a climax building. It was as if he could read her body like a book, knowing exactly where to touch to make her squirm.
But just as she was about to fall over the edge, he stopped again. Chaewon let out a wail of frustration, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. "You're going to cum when I say you can," he reminded her, his voice a low growl.
The power exchange was intoxicating, and she found herself eager to please him, to do whatever it took to earn her release. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the words, but they spilled out anyway. "I'll be good. I promise. Iâll even say sorry to Yunjin if thatâs what she wants. Iâm begging you please let me cum"
He chuckled, the sound sending a fresh wave of arousal through her. "We'll see about that."
He began to speed up his touch on her again, she was dripping more than ever, his touch feather-light. Each stroke brought her closer to the precipice, until she was begging for more. "Please, Y/N," she whimpered, her voice barely audible over the rain.
Suddenly, she felt his fingers plunge deep inside her, and she lost control. Her body bucked against his hand and like a switch something clicked, without her choice she had the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced ripped through her, her inner walls clenching around his fingers her voice screaming as if she was in a climax of a song, but this climax was different than anything she had before. For the first time in her life, she squirted, the wetness soaking not only her legs but the bed beneath her and her master.
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed with a hint of anger and amusement. "You weren't supposed to do that," he said, his voice tight.
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the pleasure was too intense for her to care. "I couldn't help it," she gasped.
He then let her legs fall as he stepped away, slowly undressing his clothes while Chaewon can barely watch him, her vision foggy and her legs still shaking, but what she could make out was him placing his keys, wallet and his phone off to the side as if there isn't and trembling idol just behind him. Any thought was immediately pushed out of her mind.
He walked over, his cock, not the biggest but larger than any she had ever seen in real life, standing tall and proud. She didn't want to think about it but her mind goes to Yunjin, what the heck, she's been taking this monster? " It seems you're going to need to be taught a lesson after all," he murmured.
Y/N took his position and sat behind the idol and let her lean on him, she felt his member rub against her back thereâs no way Yunjin took that for fun. Now facing the wall Chaewon justn noticed the abnormally large mirror facing perfectly towards her. She felt a slap on her thighs indicating for her to spread them. Once open her legs were locked as Y/N used his own legs to secure the position.Â
He started to rub her breast gently pinching and pulling each nub. âWhy did you cum without permission?â He whispered directly to her ear. The idol had done plenty of interviews but this was a question she couldnât answer.Â
A loud smack was heard across the room as Chaewon failed to respond . A smack directly to her sensitive area. âAAGGHâ she squealed. Why was the smack making her more wet? was the only thought in her mind before it was interrupted âThatâs not the answer I wantâ
âI-I donât know why it just happe-â another smack across her pussy, the sound that came from it was different, her pussy was soaked, and now Y/N's left hand now snaked around and found itself onto Chaewon neck giving a light squeeze.Â
In the reflection Chaewon saw his other hand lift up about to slap her lower region again but she forced out the only answer she could think of.Â
âI came because Iâm a bad girlâ she saw his hand stop before she continued âIâm sorry for cumming, Iâll do betterâ
âGood, but you still need to get punishedâ he released her legs before giving one more slap to her pussy he knew she was ready again.Â
âOn your hands and knees, show that ass to meâ Not like before when Chaewon would hesitate, she almost immediately used her remaining strength to get on her knees and her hand resting on the sheets. She looked up and could see herself in the mirror, a sight she had never seen.
âY/N Iâm still sensitive, please be gentl-
Without warning, he entered her aching pussy, filling her to the brim and then some. Chaewon screamed as her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him. He began to thrust, hard and deep, making sure to pull out just enough for Chaewon to think it was done before slamming back in, the sound of their bodies slapping together echoing through the room.
He didn't relent, pushing her past any limit she thought she had. Each stroke brought a fresh wave of pain and pleasure, until she was a writhing mess beneath him, her nails digging into the bed. She could feel her orgasm building again, despite the fact that she had just cum.
"Y/N, If I cum again it will hurt" she begged, her voice hoarse. "I can't take it."
But he was relentless, he began to speed up his hips pistoning into her without mercy. "That the point baby. you came without permission," he grunted. "Now you're going to be punished."
Her body betrayed her, responding to his rough handling with a second orgasm that was even more intense than the first. She screamed his name, her muscles clenching around him as she squirted again, less than before as she was empty. but the sensation is still overwhelming.
He groaned, his own release imminent. But he held back, he flipped her so she's now facing him, his eyes boring into hers. "You're going to cum again and again until I'm done with you," he said, his voice a command.
The thought was too much, her body already so sensitive. But she could feel it, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within her. Placing her legs on both sides of his torso he positioned himself so he was above her, piling down with force and giving her no room to move as he fucked her through the aftershocks, his strokes unyielding and unforgiving.
"Please," she whimpered, the same word she would use earlier but now for a different reason. tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "I can't."
But she did. Over and over, this position made it easier for him to hit that spot that everyone craved to be abused. until she was a trembling mess, begging for him to stop. Her voice was raw, her body bruised and sore. But he didn't listen, not until she was so overstimulated that she was begging for mercy.
As Y/N was using his body weight to press down even deeper into the idol she felt another one coming but this time she felt like she was at her breaking point. As the orgasm drew closer she tried her best to avoid it.
âNo no no please noo-AGGHHH â she screamed as she felt it, the pain of another orgasm, her pussy squeezed so tight it almost made Y/N pull out but he kept hammering
Finally, Y/N leaned down, his face flushed with exertion and pleasure. "Where do you want me to cum?" he asked, his voice thick with arousal.
For a brief, prideful moment, Chaewon considered telling him to pull out, to prove that she wasn't his. But the feeling of him inside her, the way he filled her completely, was too much. Her body was singing with the need to be claimed. "Inside," she gasped, the words foreign to her mouth. "Please, I need it." She instinctively wrapped her legs around Y/N leaving no room to pull out.
He groaned, his eyes darkened with lust. "As you wish, princess" he murmured,before he pressed a searing kiss to Chaewon, his strokes growing erratic. And with a final, powerful thrust, he came deep inside her, his thrust getting slower with each pump.
At the same time not even a minute after her last one, Chaewon's orgasm crashed over her, she had never ever had anyone cum inside her, even with a condom, the sensation set her into spasms of pleasure and pain so intense she saw stars. The idols' abs cramped for a couple seconds and her body quivered uncontrollably around him , her nails digging into his back as she screamed his name. Her voice was hoarse. It was as if her entire being was made of pleasure, and she was shattering into a million pieces.
As the tremors subsided, she collapsed against the bed, her chest heaving. The room was quiet except for their harsh breathing and the steady patter of the rain outside.
Y/N pulled out of her, and she felt the warmth of his cum spill out, mixing with her own juices. The intimacy of the moment was almost too much to handle. He took his finger and scooped up the leaking cum before placing it in front of the pillow princess. She took his finger in her mouth tasting the cocktail that they made, her pussy pulsating at the taste.
As Chaewon lay there, sweaty, trembling, and panting, she barely registered that the sound of the rain had stopped. The rhythmic pitter-patter against the window, which had once mirrored the erratic beating of her heart, was now replaced by a heavy silence that enveloped the room. The air was thick with the remnants of their passion, hanging like a cloud of heat and electricity, while the dim light flickered, casting playful shadows on the walls that seemed to dance in time with their heavy, labored breaths.
Le sserafims leader felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way that was both terrifying and strangely comforting. The cool sheets beneath her stuck to her skin, clinging like a second layer, and every inch of her body hummed with a lingering sensitivity, as if it had been electrified from within. She could still feel the phantom touch of Y/Nâs hands ghosting over her skin, their warmth and weight a reminder of how completely he had taken control. Her legs felt weak, barely able to hold any tension, while her arms lay limp at her sides, as though every ounce of strength had been drained from her.
Her mind raced, trying to piece together what had just happened. The memory was a blur of sensationâhands gripping, bodies moving in perfect sync, his voice commanding, hers yielding in ways she never imagined possible. She had never given up control so willingly, never allowed herself to be led so fully by someone else. It was foreign, intoxicating, and the overwhelming pleasure that had coursed through her body like a tidal wave had left her utterly spent. But at the same time she had never had an orgasm let alone multiple so full, so powerful, so electric, in her life. The realization sent a fresh wave of shock through her. It was terrifying, being so completely vulnerable, so stripped of her usual defenses. Yet, it was exhilarating in a way she had never known before. As much as she hated to admit defeat, she couldnât deny that Y/N had proven himself to be more than she could handle.
Y/N leaned over, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, the touch soft, almost reverent, and in stark contrast to the intensity he had shown earlier. "You did well," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a balm to her frayed nerves. "How did you feel? You know... being so obedient?"Â
The words sent a shiver down her spine, her body reacting before her mind could fully process the question. Obedient. It was a concept that felt alien to herâChaewon, who had always been fiercely independent, always in control, now reduced to something so pliant, so willing. It was as foreign as the deep, bone-deep satisfaction that still thrummed through her body. And yet, she found herself nodding, unable to form words, unable to refuse him anything at this moment. The submission was startling and in that silence she smiled softly and nodded her head.
Y/n smiled at Chaewons response, petting her hair affectionately before he slid out of bed, his body glistening with sweat under the soft light, muscles still tense from exertion. Chaewonâs gaze followed him as he moved, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his back, the way his shoulders flexed with each step. The absence of his warmth left her feeling exposed to the cold air in the room, and instantly, she missed his presence. The space between them felt like a chasm, though it was only mere feet, and her body still thrummed from the overstimulation he had caused. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts and emotions she didnât know how to processâdesire, confusion, fear, and a strange sense of relief all battled for dominance in her head.
The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. Her body tensed in anticipation, a flicker of excitement sparking in her chest as she expected him to rejoin her, maybe push her over the edge again. But instead, the sound of running water filled the room, calming and steady. A few moments later, Y/N returned, carrying a warm washcloth. The contrast in his demeanor from moments agoâwhen he had dominated her completelyâwas stark. Now, his touch was tender, almost reverential, as he pressed the cloth against her skin, gently wiping away the sweat and the remnants of their passion.Â
Chaewon squirmed slightly when he reached her most sensitive areas, the sensation still sharp, and he chuckled lightly at her reaction. It was a sound that was both comforting and teasing, a reminder of the control he still held. Yet, there was a tenderness in the way he cared for her now that spread warmth through her chest, a feeling she didnât quite know how to name. Was it gratitude? Trust? Or something deeper, more dangerous, that she wasnât ready to confront?
As he finished cleaning her, he leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did," he whispered, his voice low but firm, the words laced with a promise that sent a ripple of something dark and thrilling through her. "But donât forget, youâre mine now." The possessiveness in his tone made her heart race anew, a reminder of the shift in power, of the new reality she had stepped into willingly.Â
And with that, Chaewon knew she had entered a world she had never known beforeâa world where she might just find that being tamed was exactly what she needed. Her body, her mind, her very will had bent to his, and instead of fear, there was an undeniable sense of liberation in that.Â
---
Across town, in the dimly lit dormitory of the Le sserafim girls, Yunjin sat in her bedroom, reclining comfortably on her bed. Her breath was steady, though her pulse still raced from the high of her own release. Her lips curled into a satisfied grin as she slowly pulled her hand away from the waistband of her underwear, her fingers glistening from the pleasure sheâd just given herself. The feeling of euphoria mixed with a deep sense of triumph settled in her chest. She had been listening⊠to every word, every breath, every plea, and every sound that had unfolded between Y/N and Chaewon, all of it pouring through the open line on Y/Nâs phone.
Perfect, she thought, as she brought her fingers to her lips, licking them clean, savoring the taste of her own satisfaction. The echo of Chaewonâs voice, her begging, her screams, and her cries replayed over and over in her head like a song she couldnât get out of her mind. Each sound had fueled her own pleasure, bringing her to the edge and pushing her over it with such sweet satisfaction.
Yunjinâs body trembled with the aftershocks of her release as she stared at the phone screen, the call still running, the seconds ticking away in silence now that everything had played out. She savored the moment, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction, and let the sense of power wash over her. Everything had gone exactly as she had expected. Chaewon was exactly where she needed to beâunder control, vulnerable, and pliant.
With a final glance at the screen, Yunjin smirked, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. She tapped the screen to end the call, and as the screen went dark, she let her head fall back against the pillow, letting her sleep take over with a smile on her face.
#le sserafim smut#male reader#girl group smut#chaewon x reader#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic#chaewon smut#kpop smut#reader insert#kim chaewon#kim chaewon smut#le sserafim
990 notes
·
View notes
Text
moonstruck.
pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst if you squint; they're in love <3, mentions of menstruation, there's a bit about orpheus and eurydice so you're not familiar you might want to look it up beforehand idk, not as edited as i'd like. not a lot of warnings here tbh it's just pretty mild and mellow saur đ€·ââïž (also i don't exactly love this but i hope you'll still tolerate it anyway lol) word count: 4.7k playlist đ§: moonstruck - enhypen // this is how you fall in love - jeremy zucker ft. chelsea cutler // pansy - taemin // tightrope - zayn
as always, iâd appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading âĄ
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
Minho is the kind of love that you thought only existed in movies and fairytales. Make-belief, too good to be true, out of reach.
When he rests his head on your shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep like heâs been doing for the past hour or so, you give into the urge to stare at him in wonder. An angel on earth, if there ever was one.
His long eyelashes that you could only dream to have, the slope of his nose, his pink pouty lips, his impeccably sharp jawline, and even his fluffy hair thatâs ticking your cheek as you look at him as if you donât get to see him like this every day. But that kind of beauty is something that demands to be showcased in the worldâs most exquisite museum and admired by anyone who comes across it.
Minho is beautiful in every sense of the word.
And you adore him. You do. You love him with every single beat of your pathetic little heart and then some.
Surely, you mustâve saved a nation in one of your past lives to deserve someone as ethereal as him.
Turning your face to the side, you press a kiss against his forehead. The touch makes him stir awake, eyelids fluttering open as he groggily looks around and stretches out his limbs, in the limited space that he has anyway. His sleepy voice asks you, âAre we there yet?â
âNot yet. I think they said we still have about forty minutes before we land. Do you want to go back to sleep?â
Minho shakes his head, covering his mouth when a yawn forces its way out. He straightens his back to his full height sitting down, then slumps against the seat a little bit. He rests his cheek against the top of your head while his hands find one of your own to hold in his lap.
He rubs the skin of your fourth finger for a moment before he eventually stills, lightly snoring again while you look out the window, gazing at oddly shaped clouds and blues and the reflection of the sun on the waters below.
â
After youâve checked into the hotel, freshened up and readied yourselves to explore the scenery, Minho takes you down to the beach. Itâs a little chilly, spring hasnât yet settled into summer. Even with a light jacket on, you still shiver every time the wind rushes by like itâs playing with the waters. But itâs nice â the sea breeze in your hair and the sunlight on your face, your lover by your side, his fingers intertwined with yours as you walk along the shore together. The blue of the sea almost blending in with the sky where they meet somewhere out there on the horizon. Seagulls flying overhead, families enjoying their relaxing vacation, children playing in the sand way down the shoreline where all you can make out are blurry silhouettes dancing about.
Itâs paradise on earth. Itâs an escape that you desperately needed. Exhilarated doesnât even begin to describe how you felt when he told you that heâd booked a Jeju trip for your anniversary.
Heâs always been the perfect partner. Always knows just the right thing to do for you whenever you need a pick-me-up. He may not seem like it, but Minho is beyond caring and considerate. Heâs a man of few words but he certainly makes up for it with his actions.
âHey,â he says, pointing somewhere ahead of you. âRemember what happened there?â
âHmm?â Your eyes try to follow the direction of his finger, until they find a spot where two people are sitting, watching the water in front of them, content smiles passed between lips as they talk animatedly. âDidnât you confess to me there?â
He smiles as the memory resurfaces in his mind. âDid you know I almost chickened out?â
You two started out as friends way before you got together.
Three years ago, just a few months after youâd both graduated from college, Minho asked you to go to Jeju island with him. You thought it was a little strange â though not that strange since you had been on trips with him before, but it was always in a group setting with all of your other friends. Never just the two of you.
Nonetheless, you agreed. You wanted to get out of the city anyway. You needed a change of scenery to clear your head and to recharge. Everything was starting to become too much for you - being 22 and in limbo. You felt like you kept falling behind no matter what you did. Everyone was moving forward and you were running in place no matter how hard you tried to get out of that slump.
Everyone around you was outgrowing you and your little life, and all you could do was pretend you were fine.
It was one of the lowest youâd ever felt, and you suppose that was why you said yes to Minhoâs invitation. A vacation didnât seem like it would help much, but it certainly couldnât hurt.
A few days away, with nothing but the sun and the sea to help you get out of your own head.
A tropical paradise and Minho. It wasnât the end of the world. There were worse things you could think of.
That, and the fact that there had always been something between you and him. Not crazy sexual tension or anything, but just enough of a noticeable spark. An inkling of something that neither of you ever acted upon.
âDid you?â you ask. âDidnât you plan the whole trip back then to confess?â
âWhat? No. Why would I willingly do that when you couldâve rejected me? Then I wouldâve been stuck in a hotel with you and on the plane ride back.â
You squint at him. âThen why did you take me on that trip?â
Minho shrugs. âFriendship trip to cheer you up.â
Years with him and he still makes you feel as warm as he did the first time you kissed. You gaze at him with what must be the worldâs most lovestruck look plastered on your face. You reach up to press your lips to the corner of his mouth, then watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks.
âYou did confess though,â you argue.
âWell, yeah, but that wasnât planned,â he tells you. âYou just... We were sitting right there,â he tips his chin toward the same spot again, âand you had my jacket on because you were cold. You were watching the sunset and you looked so pretty. I couldnât help it. Almost chickened out though.â
You stop walking, and this makes him stop too. Minho glances at you with his head slightly tilted, wearing a puzzled expression.
âYou never told me that,â you say.
âYou never asked.â
Pouting, you tug him toward you until heâs close enough for you to wrap your arms around his neck. Minho is good, so incredibly good for you that sometimes you canât possibly fathom how you even deserve him. He never meant to get anything out of it; he just saw that you were struggling and wanted to make it better for you.
Maybe you didnât do a very good job at pretending, not if Minho could see right through you.
Before him, you had a fear of heights. Not the literal kind, but rather the kind of heights that often accompanies big leaps, big changes. A fear of falling, maybe that would be more accurate. Falling and failing and hitting rock bottom with no way to climb back up. A fear that you would always be stuck with this life forever, trapped in an existence you never asked for. A fear that no effort to escape your reality would be enough, and youâll always be trailing ten steps behind even if you try twenty times as hard.
You pull him down so you could properly kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly like he was made for you, like heâs the only person youâre ever meant to kiss in this lifetime. You can taste his smile, minty and happy as he moves against your mouth, his arms sliding around your waist to hold you to his body by the small of your back.
âIf I had known,â Minho pulls away slightly, mumbling against your lips, âtelling you that would get me brownie points, I wouldâve told you ages ago.â
You roll your eyes with affection.
âSo all this time,â he says, âyou thought I asked you on that trip just to get into your pants?â
âYou did get into my pants on that trip!â
âLet me remind you that I only wanted to do something nice for you. You were the one who almost jumped my bones right then and there after I said I liked you.â
You slap his chest as he throws his head back in a hearty laugh. Minho takes your hand in his once more as he drags you along, savoring the cool sea breeze and the golden daylight dancing on glittering waters before the sun bids you goodbye.
Minho is the kind of love that makes you want to curl up into a ball and ugly cry for an hour straight.
In a good way, of course. In the best way possible.
So thatâs what you do, on a fine Tuesday afternoon, sitting on a couch surrounded by three cats as you wait for him to come home, perfectly sheltered from the harsh sun outside.
He returns eventually, toward the end of your crying session. When he sees the pile of tissues on the coffee table, soaked with your tears and snot, his heart nearly falls out of his ass.
Minho drops everything, rushing to you like youâre on the verge of spontaneous human combustion because clearly, this is a normal reaction to have when you come home to a girlfriend whoâs been sobbing in the dark for god knows how long.
That, and the fact that said girlfriend doesnât cry very often. Not by herself and certainly not in front of others.
Doesnât mean that youâre immune to the occasional bouts of tears whenever shark week closes in, though.
âHey, hey, whatâs wrong? Did something happen?â
Another rush of tears breaks as you look at him. You wipe your eyes and your nose with the tissue youâre currently holding, before throwing it on the table to join the pile youâve accumulated.
You launch yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. The sudden force takes him aback, makes him gasp a little.
He freezes as you cling to him like a desperate koala, before his hands slowly land on your back, rubbing slowly, hesitantly, as though heâs afraid heâs hurting you.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? Why are you crying?â
âPMS,â you hiccup your answer out, to which Minho only responds with a relieved Ah, his hands now moving more assuredly on your body.
âAnything hurt? Sore?â
âNo. Just⊠missed you today. Love you a lot.â
Thereâs something saccharine in his gaze when he pulls back and regards you with his big doe eyes, softened and endeared, yet thereâs still a twinkle of mischief peeking through the sugary glaze.
He moves to make himself comfortable next to you on the couch but still makes sure to keep a hand on you so you donât grow impatient.
Once heâs effectively squished between you and the armrest of the sofa, he says, âYou missed me so much that you started crying? You couldâve texted me, or called. I wouldâve come home sooner, crybaby.â
âI didnât cry because I missed you. I cried because I love you.â
He pretends to think for a moment. âI honestly canât tell if I should be offended or not.â
You jab a finger at his ribs.
Sure, the mere thought of Minho brings tears to your eyes sometimes. Itâs not really a secret anymore.
Thereâs something about him, just him, how wonderful he is and how all of the stars in the sky must have aligned themselves to make you and him happen. Heâs the love of your entire life, thereâs never been any doubt about it. Your other half, perfect for you.
Youâve never felt this way about anyone before, and youâre positive that you will never feel this way about anyone ever again. Your love for him runs so deep, so powerful that it overwhelms you at times, drowns you in nothing but affection for him and only him. A love that spreads like wildfire through your calm and sacred forest.
Itâs clichĂ© beyond words, that one day you would be having these thoughts about someone. You used to watch this kind of sentiment romanticized in movies, used to cringe and laugh at sappy lines in books and TV shows though there was always a part of you that longed for that kind of love.
You didnât talk about it often, not even with the people closest to you. You always found it a little embarrassing to admit that you wanted love. To love and to be loved. There was something so utterly vulnerable in the act of yearning and isnât it such a scary thing? To be vulnerable? You never saw the appeal in showing someone the deepest, darkest parts of you.
What if they leave? What if you bare yourself to someone and they deem you not worth staying for? How would you come back from that kind of rejection?
You suppose it always held you back - the fear of being open that goes hand in hand with the fear of being left behind. Maybe you have more fears than youâd like to admit.
Then came Minho.
No, that doesnât sound right.
He didnât come crashing into your life like a tidal wave and unraveled your every belief.
He was always there by your side, a calming presence that you could lean on when things got tough. A friend, a solid foundation. Heâs the relief after every monsoon, the first day of sun after a long and harsh winter.
He saw you for who you were, all the messiest parts of you, and loved you anyway. In spite of your mess? Because of your mess.
He taught you that love isnât always extravagant gestures and grand declarations that Shakespeare would applaud.
Love is acceptance. Love is staying with you on your gloomiest days and holding your hand through your dreariest moments. Love is lingering glances by the doorway before he goes to work because youâre half asleep but youâre still trying to reach for him even in your dreams.
Itâs sharing joys and burdens alike. Reminders to eat and gentle wake-up calls. A photo of you in his wallet, a silly picture of him as your phoneâs wallpaper. Giggling with him after he tells a joke not because of the punchline itself, but because his manic chortle is even funnier.
Love is Minho cradling your face in one hand and holding onto your shaking fingers with the other, his steady gaze holding yours, and his voice whispering gently in the darkest of nights, âYour storm is my storm.â
At the end of the day, love is pretty simple. Love is him.
âDo you ever think about Orpheus and Eurydice?â
Minho laughs, the sound vibrating where you lay your head, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing the skin of your waist over your shirt. âNo, I donât think about Orpheus and Eurydice.â
You figured as much.
Your fingers trace invisible patterns on his chest as you hum your acknowledgment. Then you ask, âIf it was me, if you were Orpheus, would you look back?â
His hands pause their ministrations, a little taken aback by the question you suppose. Your brain tends to pingpong between the most random things sometimes.
âYou know,â he says with an even voice, though the corner of his mouth still curls upward in amusement. âOther people just ask the worm thing.â
âThe worm thing is boring. And we both know you wouldnât love me if I was a worm.â
âYou wouldnât love me if I was a worm either.â
âThatâs true. I donât like worms,â you agree, chuckling while your boyfriend scoffs. âAnswer the question, would you look back?â
Thereâs no right answer because youâre not expecting a correct response. Itâs a hypothesis that can never be tested because you arenât a nymph and Minho isnât a bard with the ability to sway all life with his music. Itâs a silly thought but itâs one that youâre curious about nonetheless, just to hear what he would say. Why not?
Youâve read many interpretations of the tragedy. In some, Orpheus hears Eurydice stumble and turns to catch her fall. In others, he canât hear her at all. The story will forever be among your favorites, one of the things that never fails to turn you inside out no matter how many times you mull over it.
Minho is quiet for a moment. You think heâs about to shoot back with a witty retort that he always has up his sleeves, probably something about how he would find a loophole and trick his way out of the deal, or that he would personally fistfight Hades to get you out of the underworld. This wouldnât surprise you at all.
Instead, he says, âYes, I would look back.â
But regardless of how you choose to view the myth, the ending does not change. Orpheus always turns around.
He turns around because he loves her.
Minhoâs fingers slip under your shirt to brush your bare skin, angling his head sideways so he could kiss your forehead.Â
Maybe heâs just saying it for the sake of being romantic, for the sake of saying what seems to be the right thing. Itâs an answer that you can never give substance to, but you believe him with all your heart.
You believe him. You do.
âIf itâs you, I would look back.â
Minho is the kind of love that eclipses the sun and dims the light of the moon. The kind of love that drowns out all the noise and makes everything a little more bearable. Not just the most horrible things â your fears and struggles alike â but even the smallest, most mundane things.
If thereâs one thing that you absolutely hate, itâs the smell of nail polish. You hate the way it lingers in the air even after the bottle has been capped, hate how the smell of toluene stains your fingertips even after washing your hands several times with scented soap.
Though, the only time you try to tolerate it is when Minho convinces you to stay in and pamper each other. Pizzas that he picks up for dinner and tiramisu ice cream for dessert. Face masks and fancy candles that you save for special occasions. SoonDoongDori napping on various surfaces in your living room, an old vinyl playing from the record player he got you for your first birthday you shared together after you started dating.
You each take turns doing the otherâs nails on the carpeted floor. Itâs become somewhat of a tradition that you indulge in every month, where you would spend cozy Friday evenings indoors just because neither of you can be assed to indulge in a âproperâ date night. Being hermits together sounds infinitely more appealing to you than any other alternative.
âIâm not done,â you say, snatching Minhoâs hand back after he pulls it away to admire your work. You blow on his fingers to make sure that the layer of black polish you applied earlier is dry, then youâre reaching for a bottle of beige polish sitting amongst the ones scattered on the floor. You take a tiny brush from the nail kit - one thatâs rarely ever touched because neither of you knows how to do nail art - and dip it into the sand-colored polish.
âWhat are you doing?â he asks, watching as you trace some squiggly lines on his middle finger, the lighter color settling nicely on top of the black even if he has no idea what youâre trying to draw. âWhat is that?â
âSoonie,â you say simply. âWhen you flip people off, you can show them Soonie.â
You donât need to look at him to know that his attention is fixed on you even though he doesnât give you a response. You feel his gaze on the side of your face, soft and warm and never leaving for even a second. He doesnât say anything while you work though, maybe he doesnât want to mess up your concentration while youâre so engrossed in what youâre doing. He only chuckles at your answer, then nothing afterward.
You donât mind the lack of conversation. It helps you focus better on what youâre doing because youâre no artist by any means. You canât draw to save your life, let alone master something as intricate as nail art, but this is therapeutic. Itâs perfect to help you unwind after a long week - doodling your beloved cat on your boyfriendâs nails while Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls sets the ambience. Youâll get the ice cream when youâre done with your impromptu project, along with a little headache from inhaling too much of the polish scent perhaps, but isnât that a small price to pay?
You take your sweet time with the teeny tiny details, like Soonieâs delicate whiskers and the darker strips of fur on his face. He still turns out a little wonky, a little lopsided here and there but itâs not like you expected it to turn out like a Picasso.
The real Soonie seems to sense a disturbance in the force when he wakes up from his nap and saunters toward you curiously. You pick him up and sit him in your lap so he doesnât come too close to the fresh polish on Minhoâs nails. âLook,â you say with a proud smile, pointing toward the small cat doodle. âThatâs you.â
He studies it for a moment, focused on your portrayal of him but then heâs quick to decide that heâs not interested anymore before wiggling away from your lap to go join Doongie on the couch. You chuckle lightly, watching him as he walks off, wondering if this is what it will feel like when your future children enter their teenage years.
When you turn back to Minho, heâs still staring at you, a dazed look in his eyes as he blinks slowly, his hand resting limply on his thigh.
âWhat?â you ask. âDo you not likeââ
âMarry me.â
The rest of your question dies in your throat, wilting away like cherry blossoms when summer nears. He doesnât break eye contact, still that dreamy gaze when he peers at you. Nothing has ever changed in the way that he looks at you.
For a moment, youâre too stunned to speak. You think anyone would be when their boyfriend drops a proposal out of nowhere while youâre doing each otherâs nails in your comfiest sweatpants.
Everything that youâve been afraid of comes bubbling to the surface, every doubt, every fear, even every fleeting insecurity. They manifest as a ringing in your ears, a buzzing in your head that makes it hard to think about anything at all.
But then he shuffles closer, closer and closer until his warm breath fans your cheek, his nose nudging your cheekbone gently. Itâs similar to what Doongie does sometimes when youâre lounging in bed and he just wants some love.
When Minho takes your hand and laces your fingers together in his lap, everything stills. The rumbling comes to a halt, the distant thunder fading slowly into the background of your mind palace until itâs reduced to mere white noise. âMarry me,â he says again, and his voice is so tender that you ache. Tender and sweet and so full of wonderful adoration. If you ever have to describe what love sounds like, you would say itâs him and his voice, right here and right in this exact moment.
âA little dramatic to propose just because I drew your cat.â
He chuckles, presses a kiss to your cheek before he ducks down to deliver another kiss on the side of your neck. Then he pulls back, just enough to get a clear view of you and your now glassy eyes.
âBottom drawer in our bedroom,â he tells you. You canât lie; you have half a mind to leave him here and go check. âI bought the ring two months ago, but I knew I wanted to marry you two years before that. Iâve been waiting for the perfect moment to do it but I realized the perfect moment doesnât exist, because every minute I spend with you is perfect. I love you so much. Itâs not because you drew me my cat, by the way. I think Iâve loved you since the first time I saw you.
âI love your weird brain and your blanket-hogging ass. I love that youâre crazy enough to listen to a song literally over a thousand times without getting bored. I even love you when you set ten alarms in the morning and still manage to sleep through all of them. I know you hate your smile but itâs my favorite smile in the world. Did you know my favorite color is the color of your eyes? The best part of my day is when I get to come home to you and the kids waiting for me. I want all of you forever. I promise Iâll love you twice as much on days that you donât love yourself. When weâre old and gray and we look like raisins, Iâll let you go first so you wonât have to spend a single day alone. Iâllââ He stops when you let out a teary giggle, no bite in his voice at all when he says, âPlease donât laugh at me during my big romantic speech.âÂ
It only makes you laugh harder, though itâs just as emotional. If you focus on the other part of his sentence, youâll only crumble into a million pieces right here. âHow very romantic of you to include the visual of us as raisins in your speech.â
Minho rolls his eyes â fondly, of course. When he pretends to squirm away from you, you tug him back by the collar of his shirt to plant an apologetic kiss on his lips which he eagerly accepts.
âPlease continue,â you say, smiling against his mouth. âTell me all the ways that youâll love me.â
âYou ruined it. I retract my proposal,â he grumbles, but his arms betray his words when they tighten around your frame, holding you close to him to steal another kiss. Then another, and another, until your faces are wet with tears and you realize that youâre both crying.
âIâm sorry,â you say through sniffles and tears. âPlease keep going.â
âMake it up to me first.â
âHow?â
âMarry me,â he repeats a final time. âIâll give you a better speech on our wedding day.â
Years and years from now, when youâre old and gray and look like raisins â as he so poetically put it â youâll remember this moment down to every miniscule detail. How the catsâ peace is disturbed by your tearful giggles and the strange look they give you before wandering out of the room, in favor of somewhere without two crying idiots. How the record starts skipping but neither of you can be bothered to do anything about the obnoxious sound. How the material of his shirt feels when you bunch the fabric in your hands because you need to kiss him, need him to be as close as humanly possible.
Youâll remember the sob that he hiccups when you tell him through choked up whispers, âYes, Iâll marry you,â and how his lips feel when they tremble against your skin. Youâll remember the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, because heâs always been your salvation for as long as youâve known him. Youâll remember what happens after, later that night when he finally slips the ring onto your finger. The words he whispers into the crook of your neck, âYou mean the world to me,â and the emotions in his voice when you both realize this is the start of the rest of forever.
Youâll remember everything, all of it, every clumsy touch and every graceless kiss. Ugly crying on the floor and yet, itâs more perfect than anything you can ever dream of.
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 13.07.2024]
#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#skz fic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz x you#lee know fluff#lee know angst#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#lee know x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#stray kids#lee know#lee minho
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I Look in People's Windows
Cassian x Archeron!Reader (unrequited)
The Afterthought: Chapter 1 | series masterlist
part 2 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist
Story Summary: You are the youngest Archeron sister, saved from the fate of the Cauldron by mere chance. Perhaps having been dumped in those murky waters would have been a better fate for you, when it seems that no one cares for your presence any longer.
Warnings: slut shaming, shitty inner circle (mostly Nesta and Elain), suicidal ideation
Words: ~ 4.2k
Author's Note: ahhhhh I hope you guys like this! I'm really hoping all of this makes sense lol I wrote it in one go. This idea came to me at work and you guys have already shown just the ideaaaa so much love 𫶠enjoy! I'm gonna go listen to Rosie by Rosé nowww -- let me know if you guys want a part two!
18+ only pls
đ€đđ€đđ€
Gone.
They were gone.
You had been out at the Reeson's home, being courted by their youngest son, Geoffrey. He was very polite, and even walked you back to the manor, your arms clasped together.
If you had to choose a suitor from the village you grew up in, Geoffrey would be the one. He was kind to you and your family, even in the depths of poverty.
It wasn't until you were in the manor, the door swinging shut behind you after you had bid Geoffrey farewell, that you saw it.
The carnage.
Every single maid and butler that you family employed... Slaughtered. Your father was already away on business, having gone to the Continent to meet with the Queens about the looming threat above the wall.
And your sisters... Nesta and Elain... Were missing.
You sprinted out of the manor after checking every room for your siblings, the hem of your pink gown soaked in blood, and ran to the inn in the center of town.
Thankfully the innkeep was kind enough to rent you a room on credit while the men of the night watch removed the bodies, burying them in the village graveyard.
Only a few days later, you were back in the manor, scrubbing every tile, panel, and piece of furniture to rid them of the horrors spilled upon them.
Your sisters were still missing. You had no idea of where they could be taken, besides over the wall, into the land of the fae.
But why? That's what you couldn't understand.
Not until three months later.
Three months later, you opened the door to the manor, met face to face with your youngest sister.
"Feyre!" You exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. She was stiff in your arms, pulling away only a moment later.
Fair enough, you thought. It has been quite a while since I last had the chance to hug her, her new senses may make them less comfortable.
"I was so worried, Nesta and Elain have been missing for months and the entire household staff was- was-" you sobbed, putting your face in your hands.
"Oh, Y/N, it's alright. Nesta and Elain are alive and safe," Feyre reassured you, gentle hands holding your shoulders as the knowledge of their safety calmed you. "But..."
"But...?" You asked, worry washing over you once more.
"I... Really, you should come with me and see for yourself..." Feyre trailed off. "Come to Velaris with me?"
You nodded immediately- if that's where your other sisters are and where Feyre is going, of course you would go. "Take me to them, please."
In the next moment, you were whipping through the fabric of reality, landing in a cozy sitting room.
Nesta and Elain were seated on the couch next to each other, Elain gazing out the window with a dazed look, and Nesta reading a novel of some kind, before her eyes snapped up to see the two of you.
Her eyes narrowed at you, filled with a silvery fire and so much hatred that you could hardly breathe-
Not human.
Fae.
Your other two sisters... are fae.
You blinked in confusion, looking to Feyre for answers.
"Nesta and Elain were... They were taken by Hybern and changed using the Cauldron, Y/N," Feyre whispered into your mind as she guided you out of the sitting room and into a kitchen, and you flinched at the sensation.
"I don't understand, Fey. What... When did all of this happen? What happened?"
Feyre sighed as she sat you at the dining table and began preparing tea. "The war that we warned you about the last time we visited? It happened... And the people we fought against used Nesta and Elain to prove the power of the Cauldron to the Mortal Queens by giving them the gift of being fae. And over the past three months, we fought long, arduous battles- but we prevailed. Elain and Nesta killed their vile king together after-" Feyre paused. "After he killed father."
Your eyes went wide and the world seemed to come to a stopping point-
"Father is-" a choked sob cut you off, tears streaming down your face. "He's dead?"
Feyre nodded, and you collapsed onto the table, sobbing.
You knew that your sisters didn't care much for your father- always saw him as a failure after losing the family's fortune. But you? You had loved him completely, clinging to the one parent that you had the blessing to know. You were so young when your mother passed, not even six years old when illness took her. You hadn't remembered much of the life of luxury the family used to lead, and were content to live in the small hut on the edge of the village, tending to your little herb garden and cooking the meals after Elain had taught you.
And so, you hadn't had the feelings of resentment that your elder sisters had towards him, instead loving each wooden carving your father would make you every year for your birthday.
They even made it into the manor, resting on your bedside table in your room.
And... And now he's dead? Just like that?
You had no idea how much time had passed when Feyre's hand smoothed over your upper back, a small gesture of comfort.
"Let me show you to your room, Y/N," Feyre said gently, her strong arms peeling you off of the table and into an upright position.
You blinked your watery eyes at her and nodded, and let your sister lead you upstairs and into a small bedroom, decorated in pale blues.
You didn't even have the energy to change out of your dress before you collapsed onto the bed into a crying heap, curling in on yourself as you mourned for the father you would never get to see again, never get to say goodbye to.
đ€đđ€đđ€
The next few months were... Trying, to say the least.
You felt out of place.
At all times. In any setting. Even just sitting with Feyre, you felt like you didn't belong.
It's not that you didn't try to fit in.
You joined Feyre for physical training. There, you felt like you were holding her back- no, you knew you were holding her back. After all, you're only a human.
You brought Elain tea and food at regular intervals, trying to keep her strength up as she stared out the window, lost in her thoughts. You knew she could talk, she just... chose not to with you. That's fine, after all, you can't relate to her situation much. She most likely wants a more understanding ear.
You attempted to talk with Nesta, even sit in the same space at her. But with each time you tried, her fiery gaze grew more and more intense, until you felt she may actually burn you alive with the powers Feyre had informed you she now possessed.
It's not that the inner circle wasn't kind to you, or that they mocked you for your human-ness.
It's that at every moment, you felt different.
When you had your first cycle while living amongst fae, you had went about it as normal. Until breakfast that morning.
Nesta had been glaring at you particularly strongly that morning, until she finally broke. "Why don't you take your iron-scented self upstairs until we finish eating, hmm? I'd rather not feel ill while having breakfast," she snipped at you, her eyes widening in delight when you blushed profusely.
You had excused yourself immediately.
Feyre had explained it away later, telling you that feelings are amplified when you're turned fae.
Nesta never was too fond of you, as she had always blamed you for your mother's death and the subsequent loss of the family fortune. She thought that having you just under a year after having Feyre was what made her body susceptible to the diseases and illnesses running rampant in the village that fateful year.
It's not as though I chose to be born so soon...
Worse even than knowing that everyone around you could smell when your cycle hit... was their hearing.
You had... a small crush on Cassian, to say the least.
It had all started when he was kind to you one day at training, having taken over for Feyre while she was away for court business. He corrected your form gently, giving pointers for how to protect yourself better from blows.
Each gentle touch made your heart race, and the kind praise he gave you made your face flush.
It's not that you wanted to like him.
You couldn't help it.
He was so handsome and kind, and could always find a way to make you laugh, or at least smile. And he chose to talk to you, which was more than you could say for the rest of the inner circle.
On the first Winter Solstice you spent in Velaris, Feyre came into your room before breakfast.
"I wanted to talk to you..." Feyre started gently, sitting down on your bed next to you while you braided your hair.
"About what?" You asked, tying off the braid and turning to face your sister.
"Cassian."
Your cheeks heated in an instant, pulse quickening just at the mention of his name. "What about him?"
"I know that... I know you have a crush, Y/N, but you need to let it go," Feyre said softly, a careful hand placed on your arm.
"I- so what if I like him? It's not like I'm acting on it-"
"That's not what it's about, Y/N, it's that he and Nesta are mates," Feyre explained.
Mates?
"Oh, I-" you paused, a renewed sense of heat filling your face. "I don't even really like him like that, Fey, I just... I can't help how I react around him," you whispered, hoping beyond hope that no one else was listening in.
"Just try, okay? It's for the best, really, Y/N. Fae and humans aren't really... Meant to be," Feyre said, eyes looking away from you.
Oh. Of course. You're just a little human, of course a fae wouldn't be interested in you...
So you did. You did your absolute best to get over your reactions to Cassian, to stuff any possible feelings down, down, down.
Nothing was enough, though. Not even knowing that Cassian and Nesta were gone for an entire week, consummating the mating bond.
When they returned, you were sitting in the living room of the River House, staring into the fire and drinking a cup of tea.
That was the one activity you did that bothered no one.
But the moment you saw Cassian's handsome face, a soft smile on it thrown your way, your heartbeat picked up, color rushing to your cheeks.
Nesta heard it- of course Nesta would pick out its traitorous rhythm, her eyes narrowing at you, hands raised, silver flames spouting from them, pointed at you-
"Nesta," Cassian sighed, grabbing your sister by the forearms and pulling her attention to him. "Nesta, my love, only you matter to me. Pay her no mind," Cassian soothed, and the flames Nesta had conjured went out, though the fire in her eyes burned hotter than ever as she glared at you.
"Stay away from him, you little whore," Nesta hissed at you before pulling Cassian out of the room and into the kitchen, where the rest of your family was gathered.
You simply pulled your legs up onto the couch in front of you, wrapping your arms around them as you went back to gazing into the fire.
đ€đđ€đđ€
The Spring Equinox came and went, bringing with it the return of Lucien, Elain's mate and Feyre's dear friend.
You were like a ghost these days, drifting down hallways with no destination in mind, just the desire to not bother anyone further.
You excused yourself from all family dinners beyond those you were expected to attend around holidays, thinking it would be easier to bear than the constant feeling of not belonging.
It wasn't.
But it was preferable to the burning weight of Nesta's hatred, and Elain's new distaste for you.
Training with Feyre had stopped months ago, her schedule becoming more hectic as she let Rhys pass some of the burdens of ruling off to her shoulders.
That was fine. You just wanted Feyre to succeed.
So you drifted around aimlessly, sometimes leaving the River House to walk along the Sidra and gaze longingly at couples in tea houses, or meandering through bookstores, running your fingers along the spines and wishing you could read one.
You found yourself back in front of the fireplace on a particularly warm spring day, sipping a cup of tea once again. You would have preferred to take it outside, but Elain was out tending her garden, and you didn't want to bother the one bit of peace she seemed to have.
Not that she was alone, anyways, but your presence always seemed to grate on people's nerves, making them less comfortable.
Lucien was out with her, offering to help her garden as he did every day he stopped by. By now he might have already presented her with whichever courting gift he had picked for her today.
Loud footsteps and then-
Lucien.
He gave you a soft smile, one that you returned.
"How are you today, Y/N?" Lucien asked, as he had taken to doing the last few visits.
"I'm well, thank you Lucien. How are you? Any luck with Elain?"
"No luck with the gardening, though today she accepted my courting gift: a bag of flower bulbs from the Day Court," Lucien said with a proud smile.
"Congratulations! Now you know what will get you into her heart," you said with a grin, truly happy for the male in front of you. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Thank you, Y/N, I would love one," Lucien replied, summoning a cup of his own and letting you pour out a helping of the lovely floral blend you had made into it. "I hope she will be open to pursuing the mating bond, or at the very least being friends..." He sighed. "What do you think?"
You blinked at him, surprised. "Me?"
"Yes, you," Lucien said playfully. "You are my mate's sister after all."
"Oh, well... I don't... We don't really talk much anymore," you explained. "I'm sorry."
Lucien merely shook his head at your apology. "No, don't apologize, Y/N, I was just hoping you may have more insight than I do. But enough about me, what have you been up to recently?"
"Oh, not much," you replied, wracking your brain for any activities you had done recently to not seem more useless than you already are. "I, uhm... I tried out a new soup recipe a few days ago, everyone seemed to like it..."
"Really? What kind?" Lucien asked, and you could almost believe that he was interested.
"It was a creamy soup, with sausage, potatoes, and-"
"What are you doing?!" Elain hissed, a pair of pruning shears pointed in your direction. "First you go after Nesta's mate, and now mine?" She seethed, stalking towards the two of you. Elain walked past Lucien and held the shears up to your face. "Get out, you whore. Stay away from my mate!"
You were up in an instant, flying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You locked the door behind you, but you knew that if Elain wanted to get in, she could.
She would probably cut my head off with the shears...
You grabbed a spare blanket off of the chair in your room, as well as a pillow from your bed and made your way into the bathroom, where you curled into yourself in the bathtub.
No reason to make more of a mess when she does decide to kill you...
đ€đđ€đđ€
Seven months.
Seven months and no one noticed that you had completely withdrawn, only leaving your bedroom when you absolutely had to.
No longer did you attempt to cook dinner for the inner circle. Not that they had ever liked what you made anyways...
No longer did you take your walks along the Sidra.
No longer did you sit in front of the fireplace, sipping tea and taking up as little space as possible.
But Bounty Day was coming up. The one holiday that you had cared was nearly here, and you wanted to celebrate it the way your family never had.
You wanted to roast a turkey and a boar, mash potatoes and sauté green beans. You wanted to try your hand at the delicious cheese and pasta dish Feyre adored from Sevenda's. You wanted to bake and bake and bake, until there was one of everyone's favorite desserts available.
You just needed permission. Which was why you were standing outside of Feyre's study door, hand poised to knock.
"Come in, Y/N," Feyre said from inside, loud enough that even your ears could hear her.
You peeked in sheepishly, eyes landing on where Feyre's hand was gliding across a sheet of paper, writing something out.
"Is this a bad time?" You asked quietly, wondering if you should have just stayed in your room.
Feyre sighed, and set down her quill. "No, not at all. Come in, sit, Y/N."
You did as she said, taking a seat in the low backed leather chair in front of her desk. "I... I wanted to run an idea by you...?"
"What kind of idea?" Feyre asked wearily.
"Well... Bounty Day is coming up, I thought... I thought it would be nice for all of us to celebrate. As a family."
Feyre blinked at you, her eyes losing some of their clarity for a few seconds, a look that you knew meant she was conversing with her mate. "I suppose that would be doable, Y/N, I'll make sure everyone knows. We would only be able to have it at the House of Wind, though, there's a few things that need to be done around here before we host a holiday."
A spark of hope lit up in your chest. "That would be perfect, Fey!"
Feyre smiled at you. "You can have Nuala and Cerridwen help you purchase everything, and with any preparation or cooking if you'd like."
"That would be very helpful, I'll make sure to ask them for their help and input."
"Good, I'm glad that that's settled. Did you need anything else from me?" Feyre had already picked her quill up again, continuing whatever thought you had stopped her in before.
"Oh, no. I'll be fine, thank you Feyre."
You felt... Dismissed. But at least you have permission to celebrate the day.
Over the next week, you worked tirelessly to get the ingredients you needed, even asking the meat vendors for a fae-palate worthy recipe.
You were sure your old recipes would be no good... Each one you had made for the inner circle was met with thinly veiled disgust.
And Sevenda's recipe- you were so thankful that the other female had taken pity on you and given you a copy of her recipe after you promised to share it with no one, ever.
Cerridwen had helped you read each recipe, both of you making sure that you knew the recipes by heart so you wouldn't have to rely on the mess of letters that you were no closer to understanding than you were before your family's status had changed.
Slowly but surely, you were putting together a feast that would put the one you had two years ago in the mortal lands to shame.
As you had hoped, you made a favorite dessert of each inner circle member, nine in total. You just hope that they don't go uneaten, or with only a small slice out of each one...
You woke at dawn that morning, pulling yourself into the bath and getting clean before you donned a cream colored dress, cut in the current human fashion. You had yet to wear a piece of Night Court fashion, feeling much more comfortable covered up, hidden.
Nuala shadow-walked you up to the House, a change of clothes in the bag over your shoulder. She only left when you insisted that you had the cooking covered and that you would be fine.
All day, you worked to bring Bounty Day to life around you, the delicious smells of roasting meats filling the House.
You hadn't felt so at peace in... A long while. Before your sisters were taken. Perhaps even before Feyre was taken...
Afternoon came and went in a blur of basting the turkey and turning the boar roast over the fire, your body flushed from the blazing heat as you worked.
As the final hour rolled around, you were able to change into your formal dress, a calf length pale pink wrap dress with long sleeves. You had picked this dress out months ago with Feyre, when she had insisted you needed to buy clothing of your own, and find things that you liked. This one, you liked. It was your favorite color, and the fabric was buttery soft under your fingers. You pulled on some slippers in a matching color and made your way back to the main hall, where you set the table meticulously, making sure everything was in its correct place.
Now for the most difficult part, in your opinion: transferring everything to the dining table without it cooling off too quickly.
You moved the food as fast as you were able, the turkey and boar left in the kitchen until the last moment, when you would have one of the males carve them for you.
Six o'clock rolled around, the time Feyre had agreed to, and no one had arrived. You poured yourself a small glass of wine and took a seat at the table, slowly sipping your drink as you waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The food was lukewarm now, at seven.
The anxiety pooling in your gut had you back in the kitchen, carving meat from bone until your hands were sore.
Still, no one had arrived when you brought the platters of meat onto the table, a feast laid out with no one to eat it.
At eight, you were exhausted. Exhausted from working yourself more than you had in months. Exhausted from hoping, only for those hopes to be extinguished so quickly. Exhausted from living in a place you don't belong.
You sighed and pushed yourself out of your chair. On tired legs, you made your way to the front door of the House.
No way in hell would you be accused of trying to steal someone's mate again, accused of lying in wait all night to seduce Cassian if you were to stay in one of the guest rooms.
So the ten thousand steps down was your only choice.
The first thousand was easy enough, though the wind had chilled you to the bone already, the night's icy fingers extending around your heart as well.
By the time you were halfway down, you sobbed with each step.
How? How could they have all forgotten? Even Feyre...
On numbed legs, you finished your descent. But where to now...?
The only place you could belong was the River House... The only place in Prythian that you could ever belong, as a human.
You sniffled and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, attempting to keep any amount of warmth in your body as you carefully walked across the icy path along the Sidra.
The wind was bitter here too, but you had the babble of water to keep you company, the most pleasant friend you had.
The River House came in to view, lit up from within with bursts of faelight. The chimney let out pleasant puffs of smoke, a clear sign people are inside.
You stopped in your tracks.
Past Elain's garden and through the back window of the River House, you could see them.
All of them.
They were sat around the dining table, eating and drinking merrily together, enjoying each other's company.
And then there was you. Half-frozen from the weather and completely iced over inside.
You don't belong here.
Your body turned on its own, your mind so wrapped in itself that you hardly noticed where you were going.
All you knew was you needed out.
Out of this city.
Out of this life you were forced into.
Out of this family.
You need out.
Your feet carried you to the edge of Velaris, the exit of the city that lead to the wilds of the Night Court.
You don't belong in Prythian. You belong in the human lands.
The boundary of Velaris passed under your feet as you continued walking, hardly feeling anything at all now.
Your fingers were numb, as were your toes and bottoms of your feet. Your arms were nearing the same sensation.
Good.
Perhaps the numbness that had overtaken your heart would consume the rest of you.
The only person left who cared, doesn't care now.
You don't care, not anymore.
general taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao
ILIPW taglist: @darkbloodsly
#i look in people's windows#the afterthought#Cassian x reader - unrequited#Cassian x reader#archeron!reader#acotar x you#acotar x reader#unrequited love#acotar#acotar fic#angst#acotar fanfic#nessian#elucien#Feysand#tato writes
461 notes
·
View notes
Text
đ»oom đŻor đ¶ore ??
pairing : dean winchester x female!reader warnings : food mentions, forced proximity, frenemies to lovers, crying, hurt / comfort, offhand comments, fluff, kiss wc : 3.3k a/n : hello supernatural fandomđââïž iâm only on season two yet sorry if anything seems off, also taglist form here (iâve finally added dean + sam)
the diner was loud, the clatter of plates and hum of conversation filling the space as dean leaned back in the booth, looking way too pleased with himself. heâd already finished his burger, one arm slung casually over the back of the seat while his other hand nursed a cup of coffee. sam, as usual, was glued to his laptop, scrolling through case notes like his life depended on it. Â
you stabbed a fry into a pool of ketchup on your plate, glancing between the two brothers. "so, whatâs the deal with this case? anything concrete yet, or are we still chasing theories?"Â Â
sam didnât look up, too focused on the screen. dean, on the other hand, smirked and tapped the edge of his mug. "chasing theories, sweetheart. thatâs the fun part."Â Â
"yeah, nothing screams fun like getting blindsided by a vetala or a skinwalker because someone didnât do their homework," you shot back, arching a brow. Â
dean grinned, the kind that always made you want to smack it right off his face. "donât worry, iâll save your ass. again."Â Â
"oh, please," you scoffed, shaking your head. "the only thing you save is your own ego."Â Â
sam finally chimed in, his voice calm as he flipped his laptop around to show the two of you a map. "four victims, all found in their homes, all with the same m.o. blood drained, no signs of forced entry. weâre looking at a vetala, but the pattern doesnât quite fit. usually, they target travelers, not locals."Â Â
"so, whatâs the plan?" you asked, leaning forward. Â
"weâll hit the victimsâ homes tomorrow," sam said, shutting the laptop. "for tonight, thereâs a motel nearby. we can regroup there."Â Â
"works for me," dean said, already sliding out of the booth. Â
the drive to the motel was tense but quiet, aside from dean insisting on blasting some alice in chains track while you stared out the window, trying to ignore the knot of exhaustion twisting in your chest. by the time you pulled into the parking lot, all you wanted was a shower and some peace. Â
"iâll grab the rooms," sam offered, heading toward the front desk. Â
dean stretched as he got out of the impala, giving you a sideways glance. "bet the rooms are gonna be just as glamorous as last time."Â Â
"as long as theyâre clean, i donât care," you muttered, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Â
a few minutes later, sam returned, holding two keys. his expression was almost apologetic as he handed one to dean. Â
"is there a problem?" you asked as you approached him.
sam glanced back at you, looking sheepish. "there are only two rooms left."
"thatâs fine," dean said easily. "iâll take one, and you two can share."
"not happening," you and sam said in unison.
dean held up his hands, grinning. "okay, okay, relax. iâll bunk with sam."
"actually," sam said, cutting in, "i already grabbed a key. figured iâd get first pick since iâm the one doing all the work."
your jaw dropped. "are you kidding me?"
"sorry," sam said, though he didnât sound sorry at all. "but hey, at least youâre stuck with dean and not some random stranger, right?"
you glared at him, but he just flashed you a smug grin and gave a quick peck on the cheek before disappearing into his room, a soft chuckle coming from his direction.
"great," you muttered.
dean jingled the remaining key in his hand, smirking. "câmon, sweetheart, donât look too excited. i donât bite. unless youâre into that." he muttered, winking at you.Â
"donât call me sweetheart," you muttered, snatching the key from him and stomping toward the room. Â
"aw, come on," dean said, following behind. "itâs not that bad. iâm great company."Â Â
you didnât dignify that with a response, shoving the door open and flicking on the light. the room was standard cheap motel fare: scratchy carpet, ugly wallpaper, and one double bed smack in the middle. Â
"of course," you muttered under your breath. Â
"well," dean said, tossing his duffel onto the bed, "thisâll be cozy."Â Â
"youâre sleeping on the floor," you said flatly, dropping your bag onto the chair. Â
he scoffed, already kicking off his boots. "yeah, thatâs not happening. bad for my back."Â Â
"your back?" you repeated, turning to glare at him. "what about my back?"Â Â
he grinned, flopping onto the bed like he owned it. "youâll survive."Â Â
"youâre unbelievable," you muttered, running a hand through your hair. Â
"relax, sweetheart," he said, propping himself up on his elbows. "itâs just one night. unless youâre worried about me stealing the covers."Â Â
"iâm worried about strangling you in your sleep," you muttered, grabbing your toiletries and heading for the bathroom. Â
his laughter followed you, low and smug. Â
when you returned, showered and slightly less irritated, dean was still sprawled across the bed, flipping through channels on the ancient tv. Â
"move," you said, gesturing for him to scoot over. Â
he rolled onto his side, patting the spot next to him. "plenty of room, baby. donât be shy."Â Â
you froze at the word, heat creeping up your neck. "donât call me that."Â Â
"what? you donât like pet names?" he asked, smirking. Â
"not from you," you snapped, climbing into bed as far from him as possible. Â
he chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "suit yourself, princess."Â Â
you turned your back to him, willing yourself to sleep. but after a few minutes of silence, dean spoke again, his tone lighter now. Â
"you know, for someone who acts so tough, you sure get wound up over the little things."Â Â
"whatâs that supposed to mean?" you asked, not turning around. Â
"just saying," he said, and you could hear the grin in his voice. "youâre always trying so hard to prove something. itâs like youâre afraid if youâre not perfect, youâll just... fade into the background or something."Â Â
the words hit harder than you expected, and you felt your chest tighten. Â
"wow," you said quietly, your voice colder now. "thanks for the psychoanalysis, dr. winchester."Â Â
"hey, i didnât mean - " he started, his voice accompanied by a hint of amusement.
"forget it," you said, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. Â
dean didnât say anything else, and after a while, you heard the tv click off. but sleep didnât come easily, the sting of his words lingering long after the room went dark. Â
the room was too quiet. the kind of quiet that made every little sound seem deafening: the creak of the mattress springs when dean shifted, the low hum of the heater kicking on, the rustle of the thin motel sheets. Â
you lay on your side, staring at the wall. the pillow beneath your head felt stiff and lumpy, but that wasnât what was keeping you awake. it was his words - flippant, thoughtless, but sharp enough to slice through you like a blade. Â
"youâre always trying so hard to prove something... like youâre afraid if youâre not perfect, youâll just fade into the background or something."
dean didnât get it. he never did. it wasnât just about proving something. it was about survival. you couldnât afford to screw up - not in your line of work, not with the stakes so high. the constant pressure to be sharp, to be reliable, to be good enough - it wasnât a choice. it was a necessity. Â
and then dean had to come along and throw it in your face like some stupid joke. Â
you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. the tears prickling at your eyes were unwelcome, hot and stubborn. you didnât cry often - not over things like this. but tonight, with exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders and his words still echoing in your head, it was harder to hold back. Â
on the other side of the bed, dean was still awake. you could hear his steady breathing, the faint rustle of fabric as he adjusted his position. Â
"you asleep?" he muttered, voice low in the dark. Â
you didnât answer. Â
"look, i didnât mean anything by what i said earlier," he added after a moment, his tone uncharacteristically hesitant. "i was just messing around."Â Â
still, you said nothing. Â
he sighed, and you could picture him scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration. "fine. be mad. whatever."Â Â
you turned back onto your side, curling into yourself as quietly as you could. you just wanted him to stop talking, stop prying at the wound heâd opened. Â
a tear slipped free despite your best efforts, quickly followed by another. you pressed your face into the pillow, hoping the darkness would swallow your silent crying. Â
but then dean spoke again, and his words hit you like a brick. Â
"are you hugging the damn pillow?"Â Â
your breath hitched. you werenât hugging the pillow exactly, but you had one arm curled around it for some semblance of comfort. you stiffened, waiting for him to make another joke. Â
and he did. Â
"what, you need a cuddle buddy?" his voice was teasing, laced with that stupid humor he always used to deflect. Â
"shut up, dean," you said, your voice cracking in a way that made you wince. Â
the laughter in his voice faded immediately. "wait... are you - "Â Â
"donât," you snapped, your throat tight. "just donât."Â Â
the room went dead silent. for a moment, you thought maybe heâd dropped it, that heâd roll over and go to sleep. but then the bed shifted, and you felt him sit up. Â
"hey," he said softly. "whatâs going on?"Â Â
you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. Â
"come on, talk to me," he pressed, his voice gentle now. "did i say something? because if i did..." he trailed off, exhaling a long breath. "damn it. iâm sorry, okay? iâm an idiot. we both know that."Â Â
you let out a shaky breath, wiping at your face with the sleeve of your shirt. "itâs fine. just forget it."Â Â
"yeah, no," he said, moving closer. "you donât get to say âitâs fineâ when youâre over there crying into the pillow."Â Â
"iâm not crying into the pillow," you muttered, your voice muffled. Â
"baby," he said, the word soft and warm and startlingly tender. "you canât lie to me. i can hear it."Â Â
your breath hitched at the nickname. it wasnât one he used often, and when he did, it wasnât like this - low and soothing, like he was trying to piece you back together. Â
"just drop it," you said, curling tighter into yourself. Â
"not happening," he said firmly. you felt the bed dip as he leaned closer, his hand brushing your shoulder. "look at me."Â Â
"no."Â Â
"please," he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. Â
you hesitated before slowly rolling onto your back, your arms still wrapped protectively around yourself. his face was close, the dim light from the streetlamp outside casting soft shadows over his features. Â
"what did i say?" he asked, his brows furrowed in concern. Â
you bit your lip, the words sticking in your throat, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. but the way he was looking at you - like he actually cared - made it harder to hold them back. Â
"you said..." you started, then stopped, your chest tightening. "you said iâm trying too hard. like... like iâm afraid iâm not good enough."Â Â
his face fell, and you saw the exact moment he realized how much his words had hurt. "oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his hand finding yours. "i didnât mean that. i swear. i was just being a jackass, like always."Â Â
you shook your head, blinking back fresh tears. "itâs not just that, dean. itâs... everything. the way you always joke around, like nothingâs serious. like none of this matters. but it does. it matters to me."Â Â
he didnât say anything for a moment, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles. "youâre right," he said finally. "it does matter. and i shouldâve thought about that before running my mouth."Â Â
his honesty caught you off guard, and you glanced up at him, your defenses wavering. Â
"youâre good at what you do," he said, his voice steady. "better than good. youâre smart and tough and... and hell, i donât even know how you put up with me half the time. but you do. and i..." he hesitated, his green eyes searching yours. "i donât want you to think i donât see that. or that i donât appreciate you. because i do."Â Â
your breath caught, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the heater. Â
"dean," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. Â
he leaned closer, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "i mean it, baby," he said softly. "you mean a lot to me."Â Â
the words hung in the air, heavy with something unspoken. before you could second-guess yourself, you tilted your head slightly, and his lips brushed against yours - tentative, testing. Â
when he felt you kiss him back, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. the kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, like he was trying to say everything he couldnât put into words. his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. he was solid and warm, his body pressing into yours with an intensity that made your heart pound. his fingers traced the curve of your back, dipping under the hem of your shirt just enough to make your skin tingle. Â
you felt the roughness of his fingertips, the callouses from years of hunting and fighting. they were a stark contrast to the softness of his touch, a reminder of how layered he was - how carefully heâd built this facade that now felt like it was falling away. he moaned low into the kiss, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you responded with a shiver, your hands finding their way to the hard lines of his chest. Â
you couldnât help but feel his breath hitch as you pressed your palms against him, as if the simple contact spoke volumes. his mouth moved against yours, claiming, exploring, every stroke of his tongue leaving a heat behind that was making it hard to think straight. his hands shifted, one moving up to cradle your face, his thumb sweeping over your cheek, the other slipping under the edge of your shirt again, skimming just above the curve of your hip. Â
he pulled you tighter, until you were pressed fully against him, the soft fabric of his shirt brushing your skin. you could feel the heat radiating off of him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the way he seemed to anchor you to the moment, making sure you were there, right with him. it was dizzying, intoxicating, a heady mix of familiarity and newfound wonder that made you feel like you were on the edge of falling.
his mouth traveled to the corner of your jaw, down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that made your skin burn. you gasped, a soft, involuntary sound that sent a surge of pride through him, made him growl low in his throat as he pulled you back into another kiss. his hands moved, now tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, making sure you felt every ounce of him, every single unspoken word he hadnât said yet. Â
when you finally broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, his thumb still tracing gentle patterns along your jaw.
"you okay?" he almost cooed at you.
you nodded, your heart racing. "yeah. i think i am."Â Â
"good," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "because iâm not going anywhere. not tonight. not ever."Â Â
you didnât trust yourself to speak, so you just leaned into him, letting his warmth and steady presence chase away the lingering ache in your chest.  Â
you woke to warmth. a heavy arm draped over your waist, the quiet rise and fall of his chest pressed against your back. for a moment, you didnât move. you let yourself sink into the comfort of it - the weight of his arm, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the faint smell of his aftershave still clinging to the air. Â
then reality crept in, and your eyes blinked open. the events of the night before played on a loop in your mind: the fight, his apology, the kiss. Â
you turned slightly, just enough to see him. dean was still asleep, his face softer in the early morning light. his lips, which had been pressed to yours just hours ago, were parted slightly, and his hair was sticking up in a way that wouldâve made you laugh if your heart wasnât pounding so hard. Â
you were so caught up in watching him that you didnât notice his eyes fluttering open until it was too late. Â
"morning," he said, his voice low and gruff with sleep. Â
"morning," you murmured, suddenly hyperaware of how close you were. Â
he didnât move his arm, didnât pull away. instead, he tightened it slightly, drawing you closer. Â
"you okay?" he asked, his tone soft but cautious, like he wasnât sure where you stood after everything. Â
you nodded, your cheeks warming. "yeah. iâm okay."Â Â
his lips twitched into a small smile, the kind that always seemed to disarm you. "good."Â Â
for a while, neither of you said anything. the quiet was comfortable this time, filled with the unspoken understanding that something between you had shifted. Â
eventually, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "so, uh... about last night."Â Â
his smile faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "yeah. look, if youâre having second thoughts, or if - "Â Â
"iâm not," you said quickly, cutting him off. Â
his brow furrowed. "youâre not?"Â Â
you shook your head, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the sheet. "no. iâm not."Â Â
relief washed over his features, and he let out a breath you didnât realize heâd been holding. "good. because, uh... i meant what i said. all of it."Â Â
"even the part where you called me baby?" you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips. Â
he chuckled, the sound low and warm. "especially that part."Â Â
you couldnât help but laugh softly, the tension in your chest easing. "youâre such a sap."Â Â
"yeah, well, donât get used to it," he said, but the teasing edge in his voice didnât quite mask the affection in his eyes. Â
before you could respond, there was a knock at the door. Â
"you two decent?" samâs voice called from the other side. Â
you froze, your eyes widening as you looked at dean. he just smirked, clearly amused by your panic. Â
"yeah, come on in," he called back, his tone casual. Â
"dean!" you hissed, scrambling to sit up and tugging the blanket higher over yourself, even though you were fully dressed. Â
the door opened, and sam stepped in, his eyes immediately darting between the two of you. his brows raised slightly, but he didnât say anything. Â
"breakfast?" he offered, holding up a brown paper bag. Â
"thanks, sammy," dean said, sitting up and stretching like he hadnât just been caught in bed with you. Â
sam set the bag on the table, his expression carefully neutral. "we should hit the road soon. got another lead a few towns over."Â Â
"got it," dean said, already reaching for the bag. Â
as sam left, you turned to dean, your eyes narrowing. "youâre impossible, you know that?"Â Â
"what? itâs not like we were doing anything wrong," he said, unbothered. Â
you rolled your eyes, but you couldnât hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "youâre lucky i like you."Â Â
"damn right i am," he said, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your temple. Â
and just like that, the tension was gone, replaced by the easy banter that had always defined your relationship - only now, there was something softer beneath it. something real. Â
as you packed up and got ready to leave, you couldnât help but feel a quiet sense of hope. the road ahead was uncertain, as it always was, but for the first time in a long time, you didnât feel like you were facing it alone. Â
you glanced at dean as he loaded the bags into the impala, the sunlight catching in his hair. he looked over his shoulder, catching you watching him, and smirked. Â
"you coming, baby?"Â Â
you rolled your eyes, but your smile didnât fade. "yeah, iâm coming."Â Â
and as you slid into the passenger seat, the familiar rumble of his impalaâs engine beneath you, you couldnât help but think that maybe - just maybe - this was the start of something good. Â
đ dean winchester : @person-005
taglist form linked in pinned post :3
#dean winchesterđ#jay writes!#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#supernatural#spn#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x you#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester imagine#jensen ackles characters#spn cast#castiel#supernatural memes#sam winchester
357 notes
·
View notes
Text
The team is invited to a wedding. You and Ghost are trying to pass time.
âââââââââââââââââââââââ
You walk down the candlelit path leading to the wedding reception, holding a beautifully wrapped gift in your arms. A friendly usher welcomes you with a warm smile and extends his hands, offering to take the package from you. As you hand it over, a hostess greets you politely and asks for your name. You introduce yourself, and she scans her clipboard.
Your gaze is drawn to the chateau in the distance, which appears to have been plucked from a fairytale. Questions about its history and the people who once called it home fill your mind. Who used to live here? And who is generous enough to offer its premises for newlyweds to host their wedding receptions? How old is this place, anyway?
âFourteen,â the hostess says.
âExcuse me?â
She takes a look at the clipboard before returning her gaze to you. âYouâre seated at table 14.â She repeats.
You nod and walk to the garden to find your seat. Like the chateau, the dining area outside is quite a sight: tables with crisp tablecloths, beautifully decorated with floral arrangements, flickering candles, and elegant glassware.
You spot your table; itâs almost empty, save for a familiar face sitting on one of the chairs. Well, not entirely familiar, as you only see it on special occasions when he is absolutely required to remove his balaclava.
âNice place,â you quip, and he turns to look at you.
âItâs not mine,â he murmurs, returning his gaze to the distance.
You sigh and roll your eyes. âIt was a comment about the estate, you asshole.â You explain and take a seat right next to him.
He huffs and points his thumb at the chateau. âThat thing is nice?â he retorts, slowly shaking his head. âNot my style.â
âWhatâs your style?â you ask, hoping to engage him in conversation.
âSomething smaller, simpler,â he says, looking at the chateau, âwithout so many... windows.â
âNo windows?â You inquire, raising one eyebrow. âYouâre not secretly a vampire, are you, Lieutenant?â
He smirks and rolls up his sleeves. âMe? No,â he murmurs, âbut this wedding is sucking the bloody life out of me.â
âBecause you were so full of it before,â you say jokingly. âCanât you be happy for your comrades for once?â
He reclines in his chair, intertwines his fingers, and places his hands on his stomach. âLetâs just say that I could have been even happier for them in the comfort of my own home,â he replies.
You set your clutch bag on the table. âWhy didnât you just stay at home then?â You ask.
âSocial obligation,â he explains with a shrug.
You widen your eyes and raise your eyebrows. âSocial obligation?â You repeat, a smile forming at the corners of your lips. âThatâs something I never expected to hear coming out of your mouth.â
He scoffs and picks up the wedding favour that has been carefully placed on his plate. âOh, yeah?â He points to the golden letters on the small pistachio-coloured box, âWait till you hear me say âmacaronâ.â He replies sarcastically, attempting to pull off a fake French accent.
You playfully put the back of your hand on your forehead, pretending to be fainting. Simon smiles and leans back in his chair, repositioning the box on the table.
âThe others?â You ask, âTheyâre not here yet?â
He scans the area with his eyes slowly before pointing in the distance. âThereâs Price talking to the couple...â he looks over his shoulder and motions towards the bar, â...and Soap is waiting for his drink.â
âWhat about Gaz?â You ask.
âThe Sargent was talking to the maid of honour a little while ago. They could be testing the stability of the century-old furniture in there,â he speculates, looking up at the top floor of the chateau.
Your mouth drops open. âDiana, the medic?â You yell.
He presses his index finger to his lips. âShh!â He whispers sternly.
You apologise, then place your hand over your mouth and whisper, âDiana, the medic?!â
âOh, please,â he sneers, âas if you didnât notice how they greet each other at the base.â
âI had no idea!â You reply, surprised.
âWell, maybe if you stopped talking so much and started paying more attention to your surroundings, youâd notice things a little bit more.â
You stick your tongue out at him and mock his statement. He smiles and gently nudges your leg with his.
âYou wore heels.â He comments, looking down at your feet.
âI did,â you confirm, âand what of it?â
He clears his throat, smirks, and shifts his gaze to the horizon.
âWhat?â You repeat.
âNothing.â He responds, and his smile broadens.
âTell me!â You command and crack a smile.
His shoulders move up and down as he suppresses his laughter. Heâs thoroughly enjoying watching you beg for an answer. You pinch his arm, and he groans.
âHey,â he says between laughs, grabbing your wrist to stop you. He gestures towards the distance, where the maid of honour walks to the front of the stage, explaining something to the DJ while instinctively fixing her hair.
âI wonder how long it will be before Kyle appears.â You mumble.
Ghost turns around. âNot long,â he says, motioning towards the bar. You turn to face Soap, straightening Gazâs tie.
âYou think MacTavish knows?â You ask.
âSoap?â Ghost asks, shaking his head. âNah.â
âWhy not?â
âLook at him,â he orders. âWould he be so focused on fixing Gazâs tie if he knew? On the contrary, heâd be bugging him for details.â
You place your hand on his shoulder and lean closer to his ear. âYes, but we know about their secret endeavours,â you whisper, âwhat do we say to him?â
He tightens his grip on your wrist and widens his eyes. âWe say fuck all,â he replies sternly. âI told you, observe more and talk less.â
âOh, unless you get to gossip with one of your teammates instead?â You tease.
âIâm not gossiping!â He protests. âGossiping involves judging other peopleâs life choices.â
You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. âAnd what is it that you do, Lieutenant?â
He shrugs. âPeople-watching.â He states.
âPeople-watching.â You repeat.
He gives a nod. âAnd I guarantee you,â he murmurs, âthat someone here is doing the exact same thing to us: watching us laughing, me pushing your leg, looking at your heels, you pinching my arm, whispering in my ear. Do you think weâre the only ones who keep an eye on others?â
You blush and look around, hoping to spot the perpetrator who will prove Ghostâs theory.
âYou mean to tell me that other people are watching us and think weâre flirting?â you ask, embarrassed.
âArenât we?â He smirks.
You blush even more and sit up straight. âYeah,â you admit with a smile, âwe are.â
âââââââââââââââââââââââ
A/N: Thank you to that anon who inspired me yesterday. I may have written half of the story while at the wedding reception. đŹ
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x female reader#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mwii#simon riley fluff#ghost cod#ghost cod mw2#cod ghost#ghost cod mwii
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Witch
Irene x Male Reader (3.6K Length)
"Hey rookie, itâs time to work."
You stood up and left that small service room, in whose sign was written 'Authorized Service Only'.
It was your first week in this new summer job as a bellboy at the most famous 5-star hotel, right in the middle of the city with a huge amount of guests every day. You got here thanks to a friendâs recommendation, not your dream job, but you really needed the money, and the pay was juicy. You arrived at the reception hall where your manager was standing next to a mountain of suitcases, feeling as if your soul wanted to leave your body seeing all those bags.
"Miss Bae Joohyunâs luggage, room 362, as soon as possible, she is waiting for it."
It took you a while to place every one of the suitcases in the luggage birdcage, using every skill you had in the Tetris game to not drop them. Then you took the elevator to the third floor, and once there, you drove until you reached the indicated room by your senior.
You knocked on the door and fixed the wrinkles in your jacket, since your first day, the manager had been very insistent on looking perfect in front of the clients. You heard the sound of the door opening and forced one of your best smiles,
"Good morning, Miss Bae, here is your luggage."
The woman in front of you didnât say a single word as she scanned you up and down, just a slight head move to give you permission to get inside the room, meanwhile, she continues with the phone call in which she was involved.
Oh yeah, another rich middle-aged woman with a major superiority complex. You frowned and let out a whisper that only you could hear.
"WitchâŠ"
But you have a job to do, so you entered the suite along with the luggage and began to unstack all the suitcases.
You looked back at the woman who was now standing, looking at the beautiful views offered by the windows of that room. She was speaking in a foreign language, maybe korean.
Yet you managed to understand the word "stylist" and it gave you the feeling that the person on the other side of the line was getting a good scold.
You could only see the profile of her face, enough to detect a serious and cold expression that you didn't like at all, but still you had to admit that she was a very beautiful woman.
The work was finished at the same time she ended the call. Your eyes met for a moment, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You gave her a small bow before saying goodbye.
"Have a good stay with us, Miss Bae, we are at your disposal." You were already close to the door when her voice stopped you.
"Wait a moment, please."
Another smile was forced in your face before turning on your feet to come face to face with her.
"Do you need anything else?"
"Here is your tip."
She got some bills out of her wallet and offered them to you. You hesitated at first, but you ended up taking them, and for the first time, your smile was a genuine one. You save them in the pocket of your uniform, ready to finally leave that room.
"By the way, just from one look, have you been able to deduce that I am a witch?" Suddenly, your breathing stopped, and your skin tone turned pale white. You were sure you had said it quietly enough for her not to hear that.
"Being a woman as important as me. I must be alert to everything that happens around me, donât you think?â
Cool, now she can read minds, definitely a witch.
"I apologize, Miss Bae, it was never my intention to hurt your feelings." Your voice trembled, knowing you could be fired because of this.
"Feelings? I put them aside many years ago."
The confusion on your face was notorious, your eyes followed her to see how she took a seat, watching you with a scary look. Another shiver ran down your spine. Running away from there was not a good idea, first because it wouldn't solve anything and would make you look like a coward, but the truth is that you wanted to disappear from the world at that moment.
On the other hand, you could just cry like a baby begging for her forgiveness, that would certainly be ridiculous, but it would save your ass from a guaranteed dismissal.
"Miss BaeâŠ"
"Donât tell me. Do you want us to forget this incident, right?"
Her face was cold, and her words sounded like ice, sinking deeper and deeper into your chest. But you couldn't articulate a single word, just nodded your head.
For a small period of time, you thought that a halo of kindness would take over her, and she would give in to your request to forgive you, but kindness wasn't in the dictionary of Bae Joohyun.
"Get naked"
It took you a few seconds to understand the request she had just made. She didn't take long to repeat. "What are you waiting for? Get naked"
"WHAT?"
That scream only made her angrier, hitting the ground with her foot, impatient. Her look did not change at any time, she continued staring at you, challenging you.
"I see, you donât care about this job, soâŠ"
"WaitâŠ"
Your hands started to move, and your uniform jacket fell to the floor. You continued unbuttoning your shirt, making your naked torso visible.
Next was taking off your shoes so you could get rid of your pants that would accompany the rest of the clothes on the floor, leaving you in underwear under the watchful eye of Mrs. Joohyun, who now had a slight mischievous smile while looking at you.
"I think we have a different concept about nudity."
You looked down at your nether area, and then your eyes returned to her. She was really trying to humiliate you in every way. "Everything?"
The coldness of her gaze was enough of an answer for you, making you slide your hands over your boxers, leaving you now completely naked. "Now I want you to stay there, donât move and pay attention."
You felt like you were about to faint right there when you saw that woman spread her legs on the couch, raising her dress to reveal her panties, which she pushed aside.
She was showing you her naked pussy before she started caressing it with her hand. You couldn't believe your eyes, a minute ago you were fired, and now you had an incredibly hot woman masturbating herself right in front of you. Joohyun licked his own hand as she stroked herself fast, starting to moan with no shame. Despite finding yourself in this complicated situation, watching this show made your body react, and your penis was already completely erect. You tried to move one of your hands towards your penis, but Joohyun's voice stopped you. "Told you to, don't move!" "Remember that your job is at risk."
Then she inserted two of her fingers inside her pussy to stimulate herself more. Hear her loud moans, and the watery sound due to the humidity of her vagina was driving you crazy.
Joohyun continued like this for a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, Meanwhile, you were praying that this torture would come to an end, and miraculously she would decide to forgive you and run away out of there, straight to the employee bathroom to masturbate yourself, thinking about what you were experiencing at this moment.
"Come here" She demanded in an authoritarian tone, and you approached until you were right in front of her, which didn't stop her from continuing to pleasure herself.
"On your knees."
Now, your face was practically a few centimeters from her pussy, but you didn't expect Joohyun to let out one last pleasure scream, squirting directly on you.
You closed your eyes at time, however, now your face was covered by Joohyun fluids, who was now breathing tiredly but still looking at you, with a serious expression on her face.
âWowâ
Was the only thing you could say, you were in shock after what had just happened. You ran your hand over your face, trying to clean up the mess, licking a couple of your fingers in the process.
"Delicious"
"What have you said?" She was stunned, and her voice tone sounded even more enraged.
"You are delicious, Mrs. Bae."
That answer made her get up from the couch in a bad mood. She walked to the pile of your clothes on the floor and grabbed the tie that minutes ago had surrounded your neck, but now was being used to tie your hands at your back.
"What are you doing?" You asked, standing up.
She stood next to you and, without warning, grabbed your still erect penis with one of her hands, making you gasp.
"You keep saying vulgarities, you need a real punishment."
She whispered in your ear, starting to masturbate your penis slowly, making you moan a little bit. She was increasing the pace, stroking you with both hands at the same time.
"You were supposed to feel humiliation, and instead you had the courage to taste my fluids and the nerve to say 'delicious.'Â I have never met someone like you, you are quite a challenge."
Your brain was unable to say anything as it was busy moaning in pleasure at Jonghyun's touch.
"Mrs. Bae, I'm about toâŠ"
"Don't you even dare, now it's my turn to taste you."
She stopped touching you and crouched on her knees in front of you. She looked up, straight into your eyes, you saw that look again, that no longer seemed so cold, but immediately closed your eyes because of the immense pleasure you felt when her mouth devoured your cock.
Your body staggered, and you cursed for having your hands tied at that moment. You opened your eyes again only to see how she sucked your cock over and over again at an accelerated but constant pace, damn, you were in heaven.
She grabbed your balls, and at the same time she was sucking you, pressing on them, making you feel a mixture of pain and pleasure.
"Fuck, you have a good dick here."
She spit on your cock, going back to masturbate you, making wet your entire length, so that now when she sucked you, she also slurped some saliva.
âMrs. BaeâŠâ
She stopped for a second and looked into your eyes again.
"IreneâŠcall me Irene."
The beat of your heart increased because of that, a feeling that was quickly replaced by another wave of pleasure when you noticed how she reintroduced your penis into her mouth, now even reaching his throat, causing her to choke on your cock.
You looked at the ceiling, trying to hold on as long as possible, wishing this moment would never end, then you felt a pinch of pain in your thighs, so you looked down again.
Your eyes found the view of Irene grabbing your thighs with her nails and the entirety of your cock inside her mouth, with some tears welling up in her eyes. She closed her eyes and started moving her head back and forth. You could say she was using you to fuck her own throat.
She stopped to take a breath, but immediately lifted your cock with one of his hands and began licking your balls desperately. "Keep looking at me or this will end here."
It was the first instruction that you would gladly follow.
She ran her tongue along the entire length, licking every inch before giving your tip a special treatment and taking it back into her mouth, this time masturbating you with her hands at the same time as she sucked you off. That made you about to explode.
"IreneâŠ" You managed to say between several moans.
Then she let it off from her mouth again and masturbated you fiercely with both hands, looking at you with lust. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, sticking her tongue out. You knew what she wanted.
There was no need to say anything else. A few more seconds, and you let out a huge load of semen that fell directly into his mouth and face, squeezing until the last drop fell.
Irene's face was now a real mess. She had managed to swallow part of your cum, but other threads of semen fell near her eyes and part of her hair. She didn't mind at all, she was busy cleaning your cock now.
She got up a little later, walking until she stood behind you again, untying the knot that was imprisoning your hands. She took one of your hands and dragged you to another room in the suite, the bedroom with a huge bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she caught your attention again.
"Do you want to keep this job?"
Once again, you nodded your head.
"If you can make me have an orgasm, I'll pretend none of this ever happened, you understand?â
"Loud and clear."
You tried to hide your nervousness as best you could and mentally preparing yourself to give her the greatest effort of your life, your future depended on what happened in the next few minutes.
You took a few steps towards the direction where she was, she was imposing, she was scary, yes, but at the same time, you had a sensation running through your body that you had never experienced before, and you wanted to go until the end.
You bent your head straight to kiss his neck. She let out a sigh, a good sign, you deduced. You trailed kisses along his neck at the same time that your hands roamed her body.
"Not bad, but this is nothing out of this world."
You shouldn't rush, she was provoking you, you knew it. Make a mistake, and it will be over. However, you also knew how to play that game.
"Excuse my clumsiness, Mrs. Bae, my job consists of transporting suitcases, not to sexually satisfy clients, even so you seemed to have enjoyed my cock."
Your lips now kissed the part of her naked chest that was not covered by her dress.
"Even now you are still behaving like a reckless, shut the fuck up and take me off this damn dressâŠnow."
She raised her arms, so the dress came out more comfortably, her black lace bra was still annoying, but with a deft movement it quickly disappeared as well, leaving you with the view of her naked tits.
Your mouth quickly acted as shelter for her boobs, drawing loud moans from Irene. Her hands traveled to the back of your head, pressing you closer against them.
"Just like that, fuck, work on these fucking little tits."
You sucked her boobs and licked her nipples, which at this point were really hard by the moves of your tongue. With every second that passed, Irene became more moldable under your touch.
At that moment, you took advantage of to move one of your hands to her lower zone, totally wet after the first session, you touched her pussy over her panties using circular movements.
"So fucking wet, Miss Bae." You said it with a superior tone.
"Told you to shut up." She was getting angry again.
"As you wish."
You replied and suddenly kissed her lips. Irene opened her eyes in surprise, but it didn't take long for her to respond to the kiss with even more energy, until both of you got separated to take a breath.
"It's funny, men are usually afraid of me, and I love to create that feeling in them, but it also makes them never dare to kiss me. I almost forgot how kisses felt." She said with a half-smile on her face, touching her swollen lips.
"In that case, let me help you remember."
You said, emboldened, kissing her again with passion, making her respond with the same lust and starting a battle of tongues inside your mouths. You lost your balance due to the fury of the kisses, and you fell on top of her when her back hit the bed.
When you separated from her again, you could see how her messy hair had fallen on her sweaty forehead and her cheeks were completely red, but you were surprised by her smile, this time it was a full formed and sincere smile.
"Show me what else can do that mouth of yours."
You kissed her lips again, a quick kiss this time, which was followed by another path of kisses all over her body until you reached her panties, you managed to take them off to finally see her naked pussy.
You kissed her thighs previously before sinking your face against her area, making her moan louder than ever. Your tongue moved fiercely against her pussy folds as Irene's screams filled the room.
"Don't stop, don't even dare to stop."
You were giving your best to make her feel good. Her moans, screams, and bad words only motivated you to continue doing this with more intensity. Having your tongue a rest, you quickly replaced it with your fingers, masturbating her with all your strength.
"Holy fuuuuuck, Iâm cuming!" She screamed, curving her back and, once again, squirting a lot from her pussy, messing part of the edge of the bed and the bedroom floor.
She had now difficulty breathing correctly, and her chest was up and down again, trying to calm herself. Your fingers once again caressed her pussy, this time doing it so slowly. You approached to kiss her once again.
"Irene"
You called, so both of you noticed your penis fully recovered, ready for more rounds. She smiled at you, turning around, remaining face down, then you stared at her trained ass.
"Come on, what are you waiting for? Fuck me".
Your penis got excited hearing those words. You stood up immediately to stand behind her. Grabbing her hips and aligning yourself with her pussy, inserting your entire length at once into Irene's pussy.
"God, you're so tight." You moaned, starting to thrust into her.
"Yes, fuck, stretch my fucking pussy with your big cock."
"Holy shit, Mrs. Bae."
You increased your thrusts, making everything more and more primitive, to the point that your balls were colliding with her hips every time you buried your length inside her.
Irene couldn't stop moaning and screaming, grabbing the bedsheets with her hands while moving her hips to give more depth to your moves.
You didn't hesitate to grab one of her ass cheeks tightly with one of your hands and then give her a slap that echoed through the room and made the woman scream. You repeated it a few more times, having the same result.
"This is what you wanted, right? A witch like you just wanted to be fucked this hard."
One more spank to her already red ass, drove Irene crazy.
"Yes! Fuck yes, fuck me please! Don't stop now! Use my witch pussy however you want."
You kissed her neck from behind and ran your tongue down her back as your hips moved at a constant pace for a longer period of time.
"Wait." she said between moans. "I want to see you."
You took out your cock off her, allowing her to turn around, giving her another passionate kiss, you took her hips and brought her closer to the edge of the bed, sitting there, she opened her legs for you.
You entered inside her again, resuming your task of fucking her hard, Irene wrapped her arms around your head, moving a little on the bed, allowing you to fuck her deeper.
"So fucking deep." She sighs, closing her eyes.
When she opened them again, she met your eyes, making her blush a bit. You didn't ignore it and brought your lips closer to hers, touching them but not kissing her.
"Mrs. Bae, I'm about to cum." She took your face in her hands, smiling.
"Inside me, until the last drop⊠I need it."
That was the last thing you needed, Irene hugged you and in a last effort you fucked her harder than ever until you shot all your cum inside her pussy, making both of you reach an orgasm. Both of you really had made a mess.
Irene laid on the bed, still shaking, with one of her arms covering her face. You laid to next to her, looking directly at her.
"Don't worry, today is a safe day."
"Thatâs fine of course but wasn't my real concern."
Irene lowered her arm and stared at you for a few moments, her eyes widening as if she had forgotten the reason of this. He pretended to cough in an attempt to hide her mistake by sitting back on the bed.
"Yes, about that⊠You did your part, so I'll do mine, and I promise I won't say anything about what happened here."
Feeling a big relief at that moment, you didn't say anything more than "thank you" to get out of bed in search of your work clothes. You had a schedule to complete.
"I will stay here for a few days because of work."
You left your shirt half buttoned to watch as Irene leaned against the door frame, now wearing a bathrobe from the bathroom.
"Maybe you can offer me this special service again." Her mischievous smile made your face get one, too. "I am at your total disposal, Mrs. Bae."
605 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!
thank you!! Itâs a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. Thereâs nobody watching, and you wonât make any tips. You donât have a pole nor a stage.Â
You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isnât anything youâd play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again.Â
Itâs not fun.Â
You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencerâs texted you twice in the ten minutes you werenât on it.Â
Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner.Â
The second, Sorry, I donât think Iâve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didnât say that if it was weird
A third pops up while youâre reading. Can I come get you?Â
You text him back with pleasure. Heâs the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything itâs not weird, Iâll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothesÂ
You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss youÂ
You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush.Â
I miss you too, you text back.Â
Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later
Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. Heâs silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home.Â
Youâve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencerâs contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy.Â
âHello?â you answer, bringing the phone to your ear.Â
âHi!â He sounds nervous. âIâm outside. Am I gonna get towed?âÂ
âNot if you stay in the car. Iâm on my way down right now.âÂ
âOkay, see you in a second,â he says.Â
He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You arenât sure why he doesnât sell his car, maybe because itâs dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all.Â
He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window.Â
âAre you okay?â he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better.Â
âWhy wouldnât I be?âÂ
âI had a weird feeling about you, like you werenât alright.âÂ
You lean down further. âIâm okay.âÂ
He grins. Youâre waiting for a kiss he doesnât give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms.Â
âWell, you look okay. Are you getting in? Itâs cold,â he says, nodding toward the passenger side.
âNo help with my bags?â you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. âKidding.âÂ
You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.
âMaybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,â he says, pulling away slowly.Â
âAnd when the mystery is gone?â you ask.Â
âI donât want mystery with you.âÂ
Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes.Â
âDo you wanna get pizza or something?â he asks.Â
You hold your jaw where heâd kissed you. âSure,â you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand.Â
âOr Chinese? What do you want?âÂ
You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. âPizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?âÂ
Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. âWait,â you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, âjustâŠâ You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasnât gonna be enough âSpencer doesnât know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.
Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines.Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
693 notes
·
View notes
Note
I am just so obsessed with the idea of Five and Reader's domestic life (without all those doomsday shite) đ« so please, if you can, I'd love to read something related to that đđ»
a/n: hi anon sorry for the wait ! i just started the fall semester and havenât had much time to write but i hope you enjoy this little slice of life -esque fic
warning: basically pure fluff
The dance hall is nearly empty save for the elderly couple rocking back and forth in each otherâs arms in front of the stage where the big band plays their last song of the night. Tired busboys and cleanup crew members clear away the tables and sweep up any mess to prepare for the next day of business. Despite the evening coming to a close, youâre in no hurry to leave Fiveâs arms as he delicately twirls you around the dance floor to one of his favorite songs.
âReady to call it a night?â He asks with a careful smile after watching your eyes nearly flutter shut for a third time. He knows you well enough to detect when youâve reached the point of exhaustion, but he also knows youâre not one to ever admit this out of your own volition.
âTired already, old man?â You counter playfully, but you donât protest as he begins to lead you off the dance floor and out the doors to your car. Your feet are killing you and you want nothing more than to crawl into bed, and Five is fully aware of your current internal dialogue. He helps you into the car and even slips off your heels for you before taking his place behind the wheel.
âThis was nice,â he admits in a soft voice, glancing over at you in the passengerâs seat. Your head is pressed against the cool glass of the window as you watch the city streets pass by, and you let out a gentle hum in response to his comment.
âItâs nice we get to do normal couple things now,â you agree thoughtfully. âNo assignments to complete, no world-ending apocalyptic threats to stop, no timelines to fix. Just us getting another chance to relive our twenties again in a world where the moon is still intact.â
âIâm sorry about all that,â Five relents with a tired sigh. If not for him you probably never would have been wrapped up in all that mess in the first place, and he feels partly responsible for the chaotic nature your life had taken on the last few decades.
âHey,â you call gently, prompting the boy to glance over at your sincere gaze and soft smile, âI wouldnât change it for the world, you know that. I literally had the chance to, but I decided against it.â
âDonât remind me,â he scoffs quietly at the memory. The Handler had cornered you once with an enticing deal- a chance to return to your own time in exchange for Fiveâs whereabouts and his plans to stop the end of the world. She mistakenly underestimated your loyalty to the time traveler, and you had gifted her with a solid right hook in response to her offer. That all felt so long ago to you both now.
The headlights of the car drown your front yard in artificial light as Five finally pulls into the driveway of your humble home. After everything had been set back to normal and the Cleanse had been stopped, you both decided to move out into the suburbs and purchased a lovely little fixer upper in a quiet neighborhood where almost nothing seemed to happen. It was exactly the fresh start you needed, and every time you stepped over the threshold through the front door you felt your heart fill with warmth all over again just like it had the first time Five had carried you inside.
âI think we should get a dog,â you voice aloud for no particular reason as you flip on the lights and shut the door behind you. The house is cozily warm despite your absence, and already you can feel the eagerness rising within you at the thought of crawling into bed.
âA dog?â Five repeats with a raised brow as he hangs his coat on the wall and sets your heels upon the shoe rack next to his own.
âAfter married people get a house they usually start having kids, or they get a dog,â you explain with a casual wave of your hand as you walk through the hallway and into the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water. âI think we should get a dog.â
âNot a kid?â Five teases as his fingers playfully poke into your side. You jump at the feeling, and he uses the distraction as an opportunity to steal your glass from you so that he may take a hearty gulp of water before you can protest.
âI donât think weâre ready for that yet. At least, Iâm not. I can hardly handle babysitting Grace and the twins as it is.â
âTo be fair, they take after their parents,â Five reminds you with a sarcastic chuckle before handing you your freshly refilled glass of water. âI think our kids would stand a better chance.â
âA Hargreeves child with a y/l/n as their mother?â You retort with a pointed look and uneasy smile. âNot likely. Iâd like to remain chaos free for at least another few years before we get to that.â
âI canât argue with that,â he relents with a sigh before wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. âWeâve had enough chaos to last us a lifetime. The kids can wait.â
âSo weâre getting a dog?â
âWeâll get a dog,â Five chuckles with a careful nod as he presses his lips to your cheek.
âCan we name him Mr. Pennycrumb?â
âMr. Pennycrumb?â Your husband retorts skeptically, pulling away to analyze your facial features in search of any falsehood or mirth. âWhereâd you come up with that?â
âI read it in a comic book once,â you offer with a simple shrug as if itâs the most obvious explanation in the world. Despite how much time heâs spent with you, you still always find a way to surprise him when he least expects it. Itâs one of the many things he loves about you, and itâs why your relationship has remained so strong after all this time. Itâs hard to reach a stalemate when youïżœïżœïżœre always keeping him on his toes.
âOf course, what was I thinking,â Five hums thoughtfully as he pulls away from your figure and sets your now empty cup in the sink. âMr. Pennycrumb it is.â
He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and turns to leave for the bedroom, but your melodious call of his name has him stopping dead in his tracks. You move forward to loosen his tie for him, an adoring smile on your face as you peer up at him through your lashes and quietly voice, âI love you.â
He grins, his gaze soft with a look that is only reserved for you as he presses his lips to your forehead and gifts you a tender hearted kiss. What he ever did to be lucky enough to have someone like you, heâll never know, but what he does know is that heâll gladly spend the rest of his time on this earth making you happy with the life youâve built together.
âI love you too,â he utters reverently before pulling you into his arms once more for another kiss.
#request#the umbrella academy#five hargreeves#number five#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagines#number five x reader#number five imagine#five x reader#five imagine#tua#tua x reader#tua imagine
484 notes
·
View notes
Text
chris always knows how to make crybaby!reader forgive him
itâs a quiet, lazy afternoon. the soft hum of the tv plays in the background as sunlight filters through the windows, casting a warm glow across the living room. youâre curled up on the couch, wrapped in your favorite blanket while scrolling through your phone.
after a while, your mind drifts to the pastry you saved in the fridgeâthe last piece from your favorite bakery. the thought alone makes you smile, and you head to the kitchen, ready to indulge.
but when you open the fridge, the little white box isnât there.
you frown, scanning every shelf. nothing. you even check the freezer and a few random cabinets, despite knowing that makes no sense. after a solid five minutes of searching, frustration bubbles up.
you stomp back into the living room. âchris?â
he glances up from his phone, eyebrows raised. âyeah?â
âwhereâs my pastry?â you ask, arms crossed.
thereâs a beat of silence before he responds. âuhâŠâ he shifts slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. âi mightâve eaten it.â
your eyes widen. âyou ate it?â
âi was hungry!â he admits, throwing his hands up. âand it was just sitting there, looking all lonely. i didnât think youâd mind.â
you stare at him, your bottom lip already trembling. âyou knew it was my favorite,â you whisper, voice wobbling.
chris immediately picks up on your pout and the tears forming in your eyes. heâs seen this play out countless times. still, he canât help but chuckle softly. âoh no, princess. donât cry,â he teases, reaching out for you. âyouâre breaking my heart.â
âgood,â you mumble, turning away from him dramatically. âi hope it hurts.â
he chuckles before pulling you onto his lap despite your protests. âiâm the worst, huh?â
âthe absolute worst,â you mumble, crossing your arms tightly.
chris sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple. âokay, okay. i messed up. iâll make it up to you.â
âhow?â you ask, still sulking.
âlet me take you to get another one.â
you hesitate for a moment, glancing up at him from under your teary lashes. âreally?â
âreally,â he says, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. ânow go grab your shoes, before i change my mind.â
the drive across town is quiet, the streets bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. chris keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, the soft touch of his thumb drawing lazy circles over your skin.
you steal a glance at him, admiring the relaxed way he leans back in the seat, a small smirk playing on his lips as he hums along to the music. when he catches you staring, he raises an eyebrow.
âwhat?â he asks, amusement lacing his voice.
ânothing,â you mumble, turning your gaze to the window to hide your blush.
he chuckles softly, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. âyouâre so pretty, you know that?â
your cheeks heat even more. âchris,â you mutter, voice shy.
âwhat?â he grins, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road. âjust telling the truth, doll.â
you bite your lip to suppress a smile but fail miserably. âshut up.â
ânever,â he teases with a grin.
the bakery is as charming as ever, with warm cozy hues and shelves lined with baked goods that look almost too perfect to eat. the scent of fresh bread and sugar fills the air, wrapping around you like a hug.
you hover near the display case, eyes scanning the pastries. the one youâre looking for is right there, sitting pretty in the middle row.
chris notices and nudges you gently. âsee something you like?â
you nod, pointing at the pastry. âthat one,â you whisper softly, voice barely above a whisper.
he leans in, pretending he didnât hear you. âwhat was that, princess?â
âthat one,â you repeat, giving him a small glare.
he smirks but doesnât push further. âgot it.â turning to the barista, he orders confidently. âtwo of those, please. and a coffee.â
you tug on his sleeve. âcan i get a hot chocolate instead?â
he smiles at you before turning back to the cashier. âmake that one coffee and one hot chocolate.â
the barista rings you up, and before you can even reach for your wallet, chris pulls out his card.
âchris,â you pout, tugging at his sleeve again. âi can pay for mine.â
ânope. making it up to you, remember?â he says with a wink.
you sigh but canât help smiling as you clutch the little bag, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping through the cup into your hands.
the ride back feels even softer, the sky now painted in hues of pink and orange. chris keeps his hand on your thigh again, his touch warm and steady. you take small sips of your hot chocolate, savoring the sweetness.
chris glances over, catching the way your eyes light up. âgood?â
you hum around a bite, nodding enthusiastically. âperfect,â you mumble.
he chuckles, squeezing your thigh. âtold you iâd make it up to you.â
you roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. âyouâre so annoying.â
just as youâre about to take another bite, you catch chris side-eyeing the pastry. before you can react, he leans over and takes a bite out of it, grinning like heâs just won a prize.
âchris!â you yelp, pulling the pastry away from him and swatting his arm. âyou just bought me this!â
âcouldnât resist.â he laughs as he wipes the small crumbs off the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand.
âyouâre the worst!â you pout, holding the pastry protectively.
âi know,â he says, still grinning. âbut you love me anyway.â
you huff, but the warmth in his voice makes it impossible to stay mad. âyouâre just lucky youâre cute chris.â
he laughs before stopping at the red light, turning towards you. you give him a hard glare before he peppers your cheek with kisses and you canât help but giggle. because no matter what chris does, you know thereâs no one else youâd rather spend your days with.
đđđđ: thank u sm to @abbystromboli for this request!! i hope this lived up to your expectations :))
đđđ đŹ âËàż à±šà§ Ë. á”á” @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @ifwdominicfike @matt5sturnioloo @pleasebendmeoverxxx @heartsforsturniolo567 @anyaa2s
#writings àżà». Ęđđ#blurbs âčââĄâ#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo
247 notes
·
View notes
Note
our girl with the emt!marauders is constantly in pain lol. how would you feel maybe writing about one of the boys getting hurt for a change? she gets called to take whoever home! it can be funny cuz itâs usually her ass who needs saving. (only if itâs tickling that writin itch)
Thanks for requesting babe!
cw: back injury
emt!marauders x fem!reader ⥠708 words
Sirius is already hobbling out of the front door when you pull up at the curb, James hovering beside him like heâs about to keel over and Remus walking behind them both with a worried indent between his brows.Â
âHey.â Sympathy bends your voice as James opens the door for him. Sirius grimaces, slowly lowering himself into the passenger seat. âWow, I didnât expect it to be this bad. You canât straighten up at all?âÂ
âNope,â James answers for him. He comes around to your side of the car and leans through the open window for a kiss. âHeâs strained a muscle in his lower back. Only thing to do right now is rest and ice it.âÂ
Remus passes Sirius his seatbelt before he can reach for it himself. âTry to keep still,â he murmurs, brushing a kiss across his temple before looking at you. âPlease try to drive extra carefully so he doesnât hurt himself, love. And donât let him do anything at home.âÂ
âThis has got to be the first time Iâve been asked not to help out around the house,â Sirius teases. âIâd like to use my current privileges to extend this dish-doing ban indefinitely, please.âÂ
You find yourself in agreement. Is Remus really worried about Sirius rushing home to do chores? Just last week you had to show him where you keep the broom. Youâve lived together for over a year.Â
Your dubiousness must show on your face, because James laughs and says, âHeâs already injured himself worse by trying to put the moves on Remus.âÂ
âHardly my fault,â Sirius says dismissively. âHeâs very tall, have you noticed? I donât have the proper equipment for mountain climbing.âÂ
You snort, and he grins, a true show of resilience by a soldier down.Â
âI wonât let him do anything,â you tell Remus solemnly.Â
âThanks, lovie.â James plants another kiss on your cheek, rounding the car to lead Remus back inside. âRest and ice,â he reminds you. âKeep an eye on him!âÂ
âI twinge something in my back and suddenly itâs like Iâm not even allowed to speak for myself,â Sirius gripes.
You laugh, putting the car into gear. âWelcome to my world.âÂ
You take Remusâ cautioning very seriously, drifting into all your stops and easing slowly around each turn. The drive takes about twice as long as it usually would, but there are no incidents. When you get home, you do your best to give Sirius the princess treatment the boys always give you when youâre injured or ailing; you insist on opening his door for him and helping him inside, you set up a mountain of pillows to support the ice pack behind his back, and you put the remote in his hand so he can choose something to watch while you make the both of you lunch.Â
âI feel very lame,â Sirius says as you come back with sandwiches and drinks. Itâs a repetition of the same complaint you heard every time you started to slow down for a turn or glanced over to check on him during the drive here. âBut I will say, this luxury service is starting to make up for things.âÂ
âReally?â You grin at him. âYouâre not experiencing any urges to get out the vacuum or lift heavy things?âÂ
âOddly enough, no.âÂ
âCrazy.â You take a bite of your sandwich, cozying up on the other side of the couch to watch the film heâs chosen.Â
âYou know,â Sirius drawls, âI realize Iâm making this all look very easy, but I wouldnât reject a cuddle.âÂ
You turn, and your boyfriend is looking over at you with a raised brow. You smile sheepishly. âI donât want to hurt you.âÂ
He scoffs. âSweetheart, if Iâm too injured to cuddle, they may as well put me down. Câmere.âÂ
You scoot to the other side of the couch, curling into your boyfriendâs side but covertly leaning your weight against the back cushion instead.Â
âBetter.â Sirius kisses the top of your head firmly.Â
âWe probably shouldnât tell Rem and Jamie about this.âÂ
âOh no. When they get home, the story is that I was miserable being laid up all day and didnât enjoy it at all. God forbid I have to do it again tomorrow.â
#emt!marauders#emt!marauders x reader#marauders au#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders hurt/comfort#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders
865 notes
·
View notes
Text
The idea, surprisingly, came from Batman. âI justâŠâ Clark sighed. âItâs getting harder and harder to keep up my facade. Clark Kent is who I am, but I canât not be Superman yknow? And well, Iâm running out of excuses.â Oliver nodded sympathetically. âYeah, I get that.â âWhy donât you just tell them.â Batman interrupted. The two heroes looked at him in surprise. âTell them?â Oliver asked incredulously. Batman nodded, looking at them as though they were daft. âYes, tell them.â He sighed, running out of patience when they didnât understand. âItâs the perfect excuse and if you really stress it then no one will believe you.â Oliver made a face. âYeah sure Batman.â He drawled sarcastically. âLike you actually do that.â Batman stared at him for a few seconds, then snorted, turned, and walked away. âSee?â Oliver muttered, victorious.Â
âClark you have that interview now with Bruce Wayne, heâs one of our biggest sponsors- why arenât you gone yet?!?!âPerry half screamed as Clark half hazardly packed his satchel and made sure he had enough paper, his tape recorder had enough storage and his pens were working. âI know I know.â He muttered back, slinging it over his shoulder. âSorry, Iâve never had an interview this late.â He half growled, heading out to grab a cab and head over to Wayne Enterprises, their meeting spot. The taxi driver seemed to sense Clarkâs anxiety because he most definitely did not follow the speed limit but Clark was too panicked to tell him to slow down and tossed him a few bills before sprinting up the stairs to WE. âMr. Kent!â Bruce Wayne greeted warmly, opening the door for him. âHello Mr. Wayne,â Clark greeted politely, taking his offered seat. âSorry for being late.â Bruce waved him off, pouring himself and Clark a glass before sitting himself. âItâs no matter, really, your payback for my cutting our last interview short eh?â He winked, handing the glass of water to Clark. Clark sipped it in thanks, opening his notebook. âYeah⊠why did you by the way?â He asked. Bruce chuckled. âClark, darling, didnât you know? Iâm Batman, Justice called.â Clark chuckled, clicking on his pen. âYes, right, of course.â His eyes caught movement from the corner of his eye and he spotted a woman in a beautiful red dress walking past the window. Before he turned his attention back to his interviewer, a light illuminated the sky. Bruce stood. âSorry to cut it short again, old friend, but duty calls.â He gestured to the light in the sky before rushing out, coincidentally after the woman. Clark rolled his eyes, packing together his things. âOnce a playboy always a playboy.â He murmured, slinging the bag over his shoulder, but before he could walk about Bruce arrived again, hair disheveled, and shirt askew. âSorry about that,â he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face. âGordon needed some aid but Robin had it handled.â Clark let his eyes drift only a second over Bruceâs appearance before looking away and taking a seat again. âRobinâŠâ he agreed. âRight. Is that her name?â He muttered quietly, smiling to himself as he dug through his satchel for his pen, missing the smug look the playboy sent him.Â
âOllie!!!!â Oliver Queen grinned, turning to face the overly high pitched male voice calling his name. âBrucie!! Itâs been too long!â Bruce laughed, falling into his arms in a hug, voice dropping back to his normal baritone. âIt really has been, glad to see you.â Oliver smiled warmly. âI am so pleased to see you too, these Galas get so boring.â Bruce chuckled, eyes scanning the crowd of party goers. âWell, youâre always welcome to seek me out at these sorts of things bud, except when Iâm working to save the city.â Oliver chuckled, taking a sip of his champagne. âSo true.â He agreed. âYouâre doing a great job at it too, man.â Bruce smiled wanly. âThanks. Itâs hard work though. Wayne Enterprises in the mornings,â his voice dipped low. âSaving the Gotham citizens as Batman at night.â Oliver choked on his drink, laughing. âExactly!â Bruce grinned back, almost triumphant. His eye caught some movement at the corner of the dance floor and both men turned, spotting his third oldest son, flicking his wrist in a certain movement. Bruceâs eyes darkened. âAlright Ollie, it was nice catching up, but Justice calls: Gotham needs me.â Oliver chuckled. âRight on.âÂ
A week later Oliver and Clark once again found themselves chilling in the main den, complaining about the difficulties of keeping their secret identities secret. Batman walked in, listened for two seconds, and promptly groaned. âI told you,â he complained. âJust tell them!â âItâs not that easy! And that defeats the whole purpose of keeping it a secret!â Oliver argued back. Batman looked at him. âI did it. To both of you actually.â Clark snorted. âYeah right.â Batman turned to him. Suddenly his voice changed pitches. âMr. Kent! So pleased to see you, sorry to have run out on you earlier, but well! Justice calls, oh, but Robin handled it!â Clark paled. Batman turned to Oliver. His voice went even higher. âOllie!! Itâs been too long my friend, but weâll have to chat some other time you know how it is, Justice calls!â Oliver turned a strange shade of white. âSee?â Batman- no Bruce Wayne said with a smirk. âEasy.â Back at home in the Batcave, the batkids were losing their minds.Â
(Yes they placed bets)
#batfam#batman#besties#i thought about how bruce would reveal his identity#and decided this is probably not the most likely#but it would totally be something he'd do#so here you all are#its not well written but its just a silly goofy little post#hope you enjoyed#bruce wayne#oliver queen#green arrow#clark kent#superman#also i wanted friendship so there
405 notes
·
View notes
Text
finding freedom
words: 4.2k
warnings: emotion abuse (not from rafe), potential physical abuse (again not from rafe), friends to lovers, brief violence, brief mention of fatphobia/readers body size, soft!rafe (but he still punches someone bc rafe is gonna rafe)
âcan we please just not do this today?â you sigh, smoothing your hand down your freshly straightened hair, needing every strand to be set in place for midsummers tonight.
âiâm not doing anything, can you not be a bitch?â scott groans, fixing his tie in the mirror.
you sigh just quietly enough for scott not to hear. the start of your relationship was perfect. he never called you names or hurt youâre feelings, but that changed quickly, and now youâre numb to his insults. you love has faded into nothing, feeling like youâre more of a glorified maid than an actual girlfriend.
âi just donât want any problems at midsummers tonight.â you say. âthe whole town will be there.â at least everyone in the town whose approval you care about.
âi wonât start any problems if you donât.â scott says, walking out of your shared bedroom. you never should have agreed to move in with him so quickly, but you were getting tired of your parents overbearing nature, only for them to leave for florida permanently a month after you moved out, giving you no other option on where to live.
you check your teeth for lipstick in the mirror once more before following him out.
you ride to the country club in silence, scott staring at the road ahead while you gaze out the window, eyes turning glassy as you slip out of focus like you have more and more lately.
you arrive at the celebration, knowing scott wonât open the door for you. he hasnât in weeks. you step out, adjusting your dress that had ridden up from being sat down in scotts sports car.
you walk side by side with scott, instead of hand in hand. you wonder if people even know that youâre a couple. if they would ever suspect it when you certainly donât act like it.
âwhat do you want to drink?â scott asks, already eyeing the bar.
âi donât want anything.â you say, hoping that will stop scott from drinking too early as well, but instead he walks away, leaving you alone.
âhey.â a familiar voice purrs out as you turn around quickly.
ârafe!â a smile spreads across your face as you see one of your oldest friends. he quickly wraps you in a tight but still appropriate hug.
âno scott?â rafe asks, looking around hopefully.
âheâs um⊠already at the bar.â you laugh gently, feeling the awkward tension rise already. scott loves to have you all to himself, which caused you to lose touch with a lot of your friends, even rafe who you used to see at least every other day.
âalready.â rafe hums out, words stinging.
âyeah, i should probably catch up with himâŠâ you trail off, walking away leaving rafe looking at you with evident disappointment.Â
you find scott amongst the crowd, but donât bother making your way towards him as you spy kelce and his sister sat at a table in the corner.
âhey!â you smile and take the open seat.
âgirl, its been so long! where have you been?â kelces little sister asks.Â
âuh-â youâre about to make something up, when thankfully kelce saves you.
âoh shit, i love this song!â he hops up from his seat, chair clattering against the sun bleached hardwood. âdance with me, y/n?â
âyeah, sure.â you take kelces hand, happy that you seem to have slipped back into your natural rhythm as you dance, his hand high up on your waist to avoid any cries of indecency by the other attendees.
you dance with kelce through a couple songs before being passed off to one of his friends you donât know very well, but youâre happy all the say, laughing as the crowd of younger folk grows as the songs shift more modern.
ây/n, can i have your next dance?â rafe asks, scooping you away from your current partner with ease.
âof course.â you feel your cheeks blushing unwillingly from the way he holds you close to his chest.
âbabe, lets go home.â scott suddenly appears next to you.
you take an obvious step away from rafe, putting distance between your bodies for both of your sakes. âiâm not ready yet.â you say, attempting to keep your voice soft.
âwell i am. so come on.â scott grabs your forearm, pulling you away.
you manage to look back at rafe as you get dragged towards the door. âsorry.â you mouth, hoping he doesnât rush after you and cause a scene, even though you can see the anger on his features.
scott finally lets go when youâre out the door as you follow him across the parking lot towards his obnoxious bright yellow sportscar.
âgive me the keys.â you say.
âi can drive.â scott says, waving you off.
âyou are drunk!â âi said i can drive, woman!â scott shouts at you, ripping open the drivers side door and depositing himself in front of the wheel.
âthen im not going with you!â you yell.
âfine, stay here for all i care!â scott slams the door shut and doesnât even glance back at you as he backs out of the spot, wheels squealing as he leaves the parking lot.
âfuck.â you curse, heading back towards the country club. you make it to the front step before you even realize that youâre crying, tears escaping down your face. you quickly brush them away, hoping kelce or maybe topper or sarah can give you a ride home.
you take a minute to calm yourself before stepping back in, the atmosphere so different to how you feel inside.
you see rafe stood in front of the window to your right, clearly watching everything that went down in the parking lot.
ârafe-â
âare you okay?â he questions, head tipping forward, staring at you with intense eyes.
âi-â you clear your throat, holding back the tears as you force a smile on your face. âof course im okay.â
âi see the way he treats you. its wrong.âÂ
âweâre fine.â you shake your head, voice as loud as you can make it without cracking, yet still a whisper.
âdo you want to spend the night at tanneyhill? the guest bedroom is open for you always.â
âi-i guess that would be fine.â you shrug. âjust cause hes drunk. he⊠he isnât drunk often.â its a bold faced lie, yet you still tell it, covering for your boyfriend and dampening the anger still sketched across rafes brow.
âmhm.â rafe leads you back outside. he doesnât talk to you for the ride back to tanneyhill, but it doesnât feel the same as the oppressive silence that fills the car whenever youâre with scott.
âthank you. iâll leave in the morning.âÂ
rafe just nods.
--
you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at scott. âwell?â âwell what?â he questions, throwing his hands in the air.
âyou really donât know what today is?âÂ
âno, and you wonât tell me!â
âforget it.â you push yourself off the bed. âiâm taking the jeep.â you call out, not bothering to tell him where youâre going.
youâre not even sure at first as you drive around before you ultimately decide to drive towards the tennis courts. you have none of your equipment, but you can at least sit in the stands and watch others play as a way to pass the time.
âwhat are you doing here on your birthday?âÂ
you let out a squeal in shock, almost closing the door on yourself. ârafe! you scared the shit out of me!â âsorry.â he holds his hands up, wide smile on his face. âbut seriously, youâre playing tennis on your birthday?â
âscott forgot.â you blurt out. âso⊠i was just kinda driving around aimlessly.â you shrug.
âwell, let me take you out then birthday girl. lunch?â you realize after rafes suggestion how hungry you are and nod quickly.
rafe takes you out to your favorite restaurant, immediately telling the waitress itâs your birthday and youâll be having dessert first, making you giggle and roll your eyes as an ice cream sundae is brought out for you to share.
âhey.â rafe says, bringing you back to the tennis courts to pick up your car now that the sun has set, having spent the entire day together. âi got you a present.â
âreally?â you gasp. ârafe, you didnât have to!âÂ
âyouâre my friend, its no problem.â he shrugs, reaching into the backseat and handing you a thin wrapped box.
âoh my god, thank you.â you reach across the center console, pulling him into a hug before ripping into the colorful paper, eyes widening when you realize what you were just gifted.
âabsolutely not, its too much!â you lift up the beautiful gold bracelet, stone embellishments inlaid into the pattern.
âcome on, you deserve something beautiful today. let me help you put it on.â rafe doesnât give you any time to argue, taking the bracelet and slipping it around your wrist, fingers gently touching your skin as he clips it.
âi-i seriously canât thank you enough.â
âall i want in return is for you to be happy.â rafe says, looping your fingers together.Â
you squeeze them back, holding back your tears as you mutter a goodbye, promising to call rafe soon before heading back home to scott. any time you feel upset on the ride back, you just look at your gift and think of rafe.
âyou still donât know?â you call as you enter the house.
âitâs your birthday.â scott appears from the living room, handing you a gift bag.
âare you serious?â you follow him deeper into the house as he flops back onto the couch, eyes on the television.
âi got you a gift, what more do you want?â scott groans.
you canât help but laugh, a mean, bitter laugh as you look into the bag. âyouâve got to be kidding me.â itâs an eyeshadow palette with a $2.99 sticker on it. you donât care about the cost of gifts, but this is clearly something he just picked up from the dollar store with zero thought.
âits makeup. you like girly shit.â scott shrugs.
âyeah, thanks.â you say sarcastically, throwing the bag onto the coffee table as you stomp away. you hear scott following you, and you almost make it into your room before his hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back towards him.
âwhat the fuck is your problem?â he shouts.
you want to yell back, want to scream in his face and let go of all your rage, but as his hold tightens on your wrist, you donât dare to speak up.
âi tried to get you something you liked.â he reasons.
âi know.â by some sick standards, he did.
âi can give you something else you like.â scott guides your hand to his crotch, placing it there before you snatch your hand back.
âiâve got a headache.â
âof course you do.â scott rolls his eyes, walking back down the stairs without another word.
--
âyou could have at least asked me before you agreed to dinner.â scott says, changing out of his sweatpants into an old pair of jeans.
âyou donât have to come.â you shrug, adding the bracelet rafe gifted you last, your favorite accessory to every outfit, no matter how casual. âits just gonna be rafe, topper and kelce.â
âof course im coming. you think im going to let you go out to eat with three men without your boyfriend?â âdo you not trust me?â you raise an eyebrow.
scott just shrugs, and leaves his answer at that, grabbing his car keys as you follow behind.
youâre the last one to arrive, a small apologetic smile on your face as the boys see scott following right behind.
the waitress comes to get everyones drink orders now that the party is complete. you order a lemonade, with scott getting himself a beer, as usual. you notice rafe gets just a cold glass of water, his eyes meeting yours from his spot across the table.
âalright, what can i get yall to eat?â the waitress pulls out a notepad and pen.
everyone orders for themselves until it gets to scott. âill have the stake, medium well. she will have a side salad.â
you furrow your brow, you never talked about wanting a salad beforehand. âum, actually iâll have the chicken parm.â
the waitress glances between the two of you before nodding and scurrying away.
âgod, youâre getting so fat.â scott says under his breath, yet you still clearly hear.
you wait a few minutes, attempting to listen to whatever sport kelce and topper are going on and on about, when the urge to cry becomes too overwhelming and you have to excuse yourself, walking towards the bathroom before slipping outside.
you are leaned up against the exterior of the building, chest rising and falling as you attempt to control all the feelings you have building inside of you.
âwhy donât you say anything to him?âÂ
âgod, rafe.â you place your hand on your chest. âyouâve got to stop sneaking up on me like that.â
âi heard what he says. i see the way he treats you, and i canât just sit back and watch that happen.â
âwhat am i supposed to do?â you look up at rafe in desperation.
âbreak up with him.â he says simply.
âwe live together. i-i have no place to go. this is a small island, and we have mutual friends. i canât just walk away and never see him again.
âso how long are you going to put up with it? because i am seconds away from smashing his face in.â rafes fist clenches in anger, like hes visualizing punching scott this very moment.
âi⊠iâll do it today. at home so i can get my stuff then iâll go to a hotel-â
âtanneyhill. youâll come to tanneyhill. i told you, the guest bedroom is always open for you.â
âthank you, rafe.â you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, allowing the minutes to stretch by as he holds you.
âlets get you inside, yeah?âÂ
you nod, allowing rafe to lead you back into the restaurant. scott has a suspicious look in his eye but stays silent.
--
âwe need to talk when we get home.â you say, scotts foot pushed down on the accelerator as he speeds home.
âwhat is there to talk about?â he questions.
âjust some things i want to get off my chest.â you leave it at that, returning to the silence youâve come to know well.
you can barely wait until youâre through the door before the words spurt out. âi want to break up.â
scott stands there with a blank expression, causing you to doubt whether you actually verbally said anything.Â
âi want to break up.â you repeat.
âno.â scott says, face flushing with anger.
âwhat do you mean no?â you question.
âis this because i called you fat? well, im sorry for that. i just think you could lose a little weight.â scott throws his hands up in the air like heâs the victim.
âi just canât take this anymore. iâm not happy. youâre not happy. why are we torturing ourselves?â âyouâre not leaving.â scott takes a step closer to you. âi wonât allow you to fucking leave.â
âscott, please.â you shake your head.
âyouâre mine!â he yells, bursting forward to grab your shoulders, pushing you against the wall as you let out a shriek.
your eyes closed, accepting that this is the time. this is when you will be hit. you just hope it doesnât break anything as you wait for your fate, but it never comes.
your eyes open to see rafe burst through the door, immediately accessing the situation and shoving scott away from you.
âwhat the fuck!â he shouts, charging towards rafe, but it's no use as rafes fist rises and meets his nose, knocking him onto the ground and out cold.
âare you okay?â rafe wraps you in his arms as your body crumbles, holding you up like your weight is nothing as you sob.
âi-thank you.â
âiâve got you. come on, lets go get your stuff. im taking you to tanneyhill.â
you nod, in a haze as you gather up your belongings, leaving behind anything that can be left as you get just the essentials, rafe helping you carry them out, even as you step around scotts still body, lying on the floor. you check to make sure his chest is rising and falling, and then donât look at him again.
--
âive never seen you so happy.â sarah laughs as you flit around the kitchen, making the biggest breakfast you can for the entire cameron family. eggs prepared in every way, toast, waffles, pancakes, anything and everything. itâs really all for rafe, your savior.
âwhat is there to be upset about?â you shrug. âiâm single!â
âand youre spending lots of time with rafe again.â she eyes you up and down as your hand shakes slightly pouring a glass of orange juice for wheezie.
âshut up.â you whisper, but the smile doesnât drop from your face, especially as rafe enters the room. you transformed in the night, the shackles of scotts emotional abuse finally falling away, allowing your true self to reappear.
âim taking you out to dinner tonight, y/n.â rafe says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
âyou havenât even had breakfast yet and youâre already thinking about dinner?â you laugh, shoving a plate full of his favorites into his hands.
âto celebrate.â he shrugs. âmaybe iâll convince top to throw a party.â
âugh, i really donât want to be around drunk people.â you admit. you want to celebrate, but preferably without alcohol at least for a month. rafe just nods, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before taking a seat at the island next to sarah.
âafter youâre done eating, you can help me look for an apartment or a condo.â you tell rafe. âmaybe i could ask ward about-â
âyou know you donât need to be in a rush to leave, right?â rafe interrupts you.
âyeah, but i donât want to take advantage.â you shrug.
âyouâre not.â rafe says, that serious, intense look back in his eye.
âokay.â you nod, soft smile on your face as he takes a bite of his waffle. you turn back to the stove as the timer goes off.
âoh, and maybe we could look for some place to move in together.â you glance back at rafe as he speaks, not caring that your bacon is getting crispier and crispier. âprobably time for me to leave the nest anyways⊠and thereâs no one iâd rather live with than you.â
--
âgosh, y/n, you can talk about something else.â rafe laughs as you launch into another discussion about what kind of house or condo you could move into together, what features youâre looking for and renovations you want to avoid.
âiâm excited!â you whine, taking another bite of your food.
âits cute.â rafe says, making you almost choke as you take a quick sip of your water.
âi just really canât wait to live together. itâll be so refreshing afterâŠâ you donât need to say his name, not so soon after.Â
âof course.â he nods. âdo you want dessert?â rafe asks, seeing the waitress walking over.
âmaybe we could split a hot fudge cake?âÂ
âhereâs another water, sir.â she winks at rafe, handing him another glass even though his is not even half empty. âand can i get you anything for dessert?â she leans down, feigning to be reaching into her apron for her notepad, but is clearly just showing off her chest.
âone hot fudge cake, two spoons.â rafe barely pays attention to her as she scribbles it down and walks away disappointed.
âwell, sheâs bold.â you huff, glaring at her back until she rounds a corner.
âjealous?â rafe smirks, making your eyes widen.
âi never said that!â
âmhm.â rafe takes a sip of his new water. âdonât worry, youâre cute when youâre jealous too.â
--
âreally, thanks for this topper.â you smile, accepting his hand as you step onto his family yacht, taking you and a couple friends, of course including rafe, out for a day on the water.
âjust happy to have my friend back.â he says. you feel so lucky to have such amazing people surrounding you, supporting you after your breakup and not holding the way you treated them while in your relationship against you.
you take a seat next to rafe as topper begins to pull the boat away from the dock, allowing your eyes to close and head to rest against rafes shoulder as you feel the sun warm your skin.
you lay like that until topper navigates the yacht into deeper waters for everyone to jump off and swim. you hang back for a moment, watching everyone throw in floating pads or inner tubes as you smile, feeling more relaxed than you have in months.
âready?â rafe asks.
âoh, yeah.â you pull off your coverup and jump into the water, laughing when you come up as rafe cannonballs right next to you.
you spend the next couple of hours in the water, only getting out to dive right back in. you swim around with rafe, but manage to break away from his attention to talk to your other friends for a bit as well.
your stomach rumbles as topper calls for lunch, having packed sandwiches into the fridge in the yachts kitchen before you left. you sit on your towel on the deck, rafe bringing you back a sandwich and bag of chips as everyone begins to talk.
you watch happily, content to sit back and just be in the moment. you tense up slightly when topper brings out a cooler of drinks, relaxing only slightly when you realize itâs only enough for everyone to have one or two beers or white claws and no one will be getting plastered.
âwanna head back in the water?â rafe asks when you're finished.
âactuallyâŠâ you look at one of your friends screaming as kelce scoops her up and jumps into the water with her in his arms. âwanna go lay on the sundeck?â âyeah.â rafe follows you away from the crowd until you reach the large white cushions and spread yourself over them, arching your back and stretching.
rafe sprawls out next to you, but turns himself to the side so he can look at you.
âi like you, y/n.â he says.
âi-â its so sudden, so forward, yet so rafe.
âyou donât have to say anything back. but you should know, especially if we are buying a place together.â you nod slowly, taking in his words. âi like you. and i want to kiss you.â
you just nod, a smile spreading across your cheeks as rafe moves closer, placing his hand on your cheek as he leans down, lips pressing against yours.
youâre elated for a moment, until your nose catches the smell of alcohol and you freeze, realizing thereâs still the sticky sweet taste on his lips as youâre suddenly transported back to feeling what itâs like kissing scott.
you pull away suddenly.
âiâm⊠shit. iâm sorry.â rafe stands quickly before you can even process.
âwait!â you call out, legs feeling like jelly yet you force them to work, standing as you rush after rafe, but by the time you reach the main deck, hes taken off on one of toppers jetskis, heading towards home.
âwhat happened?â topper asks, seeing the tears in your eyes.
âwe-we kissed and-â you let out a sob. âi got a flashback of scott because of the beer smell and i pulled away and-â another sob racks through your body. âhe thought i was rejecting him but⊠i love him topper! i need to go and find him and tell him and-â âcalm down, okay? you canât do anything in this state.â topper places his hands on your shoulders, moving you to sit in a chair.
âeveryone back on the boat!â he yells, his tone unusually authoritative as everyone scrambles to get the floaties back into the boat.
the yacht moves faster than you thought possible as topper races back, knowing how important this is to you, and to rafe. heâs not going to let his friends miss out on true love just because of a misunderstood trauma response.
thanks to the slow jetski, you reach the dock only a minute after rafe. youâre off the boat and running after him before the lines are even secured.
âwait!â your feet slap against the wood until you reach rafe, grasping his wrist and pulling him to face you.
âjust-â rafe sighs. âlet me go, y/n. you can stay at tanneyhill of course just⊠i donât need you to reject me again.â âlet me explain!â you shout, taking a deep breath before continuing. âi wanted to kiss you, i swear. i just smelled the beer on you, and i got a flashback to scott. i got freaked out, it had nothing to do with you. im just⊠still recovering.â
âshit.â rafe groans, head tipping back at he stares at the sky for a moment, collecting his anger. âiâm so fucking stupid. of course you need more time, you just left him a couple days ago.â âno im⊠i like you too rafe. i know i need to heal, but i want to do that with you. i love you.â
rafes face turns briefly to one of confusion before a smile takes over. âim going inside to go use toppers mouthwash real quick then im coming back to kiss you. donât move.â
sfw taglist: @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d
#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#soft!rafe#soft!rafe cameron#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fluff#rafe imagine#rafe one shot#rafe drabble#rafe blurb#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader
649 notes
·
View notes
Text
cute and absolute
pairing: jenna ortega x actress!fem reader
word count: 1.8k+
summary: it doesn't go unnoticed that you are one of the only people that jenna lets her walls down with.
based off request!
-
Where Jenna only accepts r's touch ??? Tyy
-đ„
-
Jenna is squirming in the car, screaming at her friend to drive faster so she can eat.Â
âIâve been on set since 6 fucking AM! Itâs been 10 hours and Iâm hungry! I skipped breakfast for this damn shit! What the hell do you mean you canât get a burrito right now? All I want is a damn burrito and youâre telling me that we have to pick up Y/N, our friend, and first buy the book you wanted because itâs closer? CLOSER?â She screams, gripping her knuckles that were already white enough.
Jacob, one of Jennaâs friends laughs hard, a little threatened but not enough to be stopped. âItâll only take 15 minutes at most! Itâs more convenient, the bookstore is along the way and closer to our location, then we can just buy any burrito you want aft-âÂ
âCLOSER? YOU KNOW WHATâS CLOSER?â Jenna throws her arms up in dramatic effect, huffing, âMe going insane! My sanity is at 10% right now, and if I donât get my burrito this instant, Iâm going to crash this car and fucking run to the nearest place that has a burrito. DONâT touch me!â She yells, smacking her friend's arm away because she cannot think properly at this moment.
âIâm STARVING, and Iâm a woman who needs food to survive in this film ECONOMY! Canât you drive any faster?-"
Jenna suddenly hears your voice outside from the slightly opened car window. She peeks her eyes out, her hands holding the glass. She suddenly sees you, looking sweet, happy, and perfectly sane as you come out of your driveway. âHi, Jenna!â You exclaim, completely unaware that she was just ballistic for a burrito 5 seconds ago.
Her frustrated demeanor melts off suddenly, a goofy grin on her face as she sees just how happy you are. She brings her hand up, waving. âHi!â
She just forgot how hungry she was and the person she just was less than a minute ago. Why was she so upset that she had to wait longer so Jacob could pick you up? She stopped feeling the need to bang her head on the nearest wall.Â
âJacob was telling me that you had a long time on set, something about how I had to save him because you were going crazy, so I got you some snacks.â You pull out a bag filled with goodies from your pantry.
The man that was driving stuttered as Jenna slowly turned to him, âI did not say it like that.â
âOh yeah?â You ask, grabbing your phone and swiping and squinting. âIt says here, âPlease save me from this woman, sheâs acting like a toddler that just shit her pants. SOS, crying crying emoji..â Um, oh and here. âThis girl is so dramatic, complaining about not getting her burrito, she's wailing in the back seat. Please save her.â Donât lie to me.â You state with a grin as Jenna munches on chips.
He rolls his eyes, grumbling.Â
Jenna interrupts, âOkay, Jacob, you traitor.â
âYou cannot be talking, slapping my arm away when I try to calm you down but Y/N being some sort of angel and making you all cuddly.â
The fuming brunette slowly turns back to normal as you slither your arm around hers, laying your head on her shoulder. âGlad to know you love me. How was filming without me?â
Jenna sniffs, letting you ruffle her hair, âOne of the directors was trying to show us how the scene should play out, the popcorn in the microwave caught on fire.â
You nod, awkwardly as you look around. âWas it your popcorn?â You guess.
She huffs and sinks into you, âYes, and now I'm starving."
-
Aliyah is losing her mind. First, her father was fixing the doorbell, and now it seems to be ringing on its own. Now, her older sister wonât cooperate as she tries to steady Jennaâs legs that are in the air. The brunette shrieks, causing Aliyah to pull away and make her tumble.
Aliyah groans, âThis is the thirteenth time already! Let me make this clear, you asked me to help you do this random one handed handstand, but you wonât let me even touch you so I can get you into the right pose? Youâre so weird.âÂ
Jenna shrugs, her head on the floor as she hangs upside down from the couch. âI am letting you touch me!â
âNo you arenât! You start shrieking and then falling face flat when I do! How the hell are we going to make this work if you wonât cooperate?â
The two siblings hear some shuffling as you crawl through the dog door, fitting yourself in. They blink, staring at you as you wiggle yourself through and throw a hand in the air, showing that you brought food. âBurritos!â
âY/N! What are you doing? Go through the back door you doofus! You couldâve just knocked!â
You finally manage to squirm your way in as you stand up, brushing some leaves off of you and throwing them into the trash. You flip your hair, crawling through doggy doors were one of your talents. You signal her Jenna to hear you out as you put up a finger, âFirst of all, I was ringing the doorbell like, five thousand times, then I knocked, and no one was answering! Iâm not letting the food get cold.â You pause, looking at Jenna who is currently staring at you upside down and hanging from the couch. âWhat on earth are you doing?â
âTrying to do a one handed handstand.âÂ
âOh, wait. Oh! I know how to do that!â Happily, you hand her sister the bag with burritos and tacos, before collapsing to the floor.
There was awkward silence as Jenna and Aliyah stared at each other, âUm..â
Jenna always knew you as the silly girl across the block. Even after 5 years of friendship, she thinks youâve just gotten sillier.
âThat wasnât it, I havenât done it in a year. Hold on.â You position yourself, slowly doing a handstand. Jenna can see your shirt slowly rising up and showing your stomach as you keep yourself steady. You lift an arm off and hang it up. âDid I do it?â
Jenna giggles and flops down the couch. âYeah. I think so.â She crawls behind you and picks up your body that was upside down.
âHey!â
-
âOkay, slow and steady..â You say softly, squinting and holding Jennaâs legs, making sure she was in the right position. âAliyah, try steadying her while she puts one arm up.â
âNo way, nope.â She argues, eating her taco, âShe literally kept shrieking when I tried to and starting kicking and squirming.â
âSheâs not shrieking right now?â
âWell youâre just different I guess, youâre her best friend, so..â
You raise your eyebrows, a smile tugging on your lips as you tickle Jenna and make her fall on you. âYou just love me, donât you!?â You giggle, hugging her as she squeals and nuzzles against you.
-
It was late in the evening as you got changed into pajamas and flopped onto your bed. Nights like this always felt better, where you would switch on a show, read a book, or call friends. You decide to check some emails, looking over some asking for you to star in movies, replying to companies that want you as their ambassador, you click out of the tab.Â
A small ding sounds on your phone as you see that Emma had texted you.Â
meh meh myers: LMAO look at this article i found about u and jenna: https://hypotheticalsofcelebrities
y/n: okay my own researcher and detective, or should i say pippa fitz amobi? u get me?
y/n: lemme go check it out
meh meh myers: yus ily
y/n: ur the pip to my ravi đ„ș
meh meh myers: corny
You laugh at yourself as you open the link, the article named âEscalating Relationships, Cute or Absolute?â
You roll your eyes and scroll down.
Fans say that theyâve picked up on the actressâs behavior, scooting away from castmates whoâve gotten too close during interviews and only staying close to one or two close ones. Not that sheâs uncomfortable, taken from the way she seems unfazed most times. But, it is noticed that she seems like a bundle of happiness with individuals. A clip right here shows her with a fellow castmate, Y/N L/N, both starred in the famous series, Wednesday. It is caught on how Ortega was silently making sure that her friend was okay during an interview that had turned a little more uncomfortable for the other girl, squeezing her hand and clinging onto her. It seemed to have worked, for how the girl began to relax. What a friendship they have!
The tiny moments of comfort and physical touch occur in other interviews too, as well as cute Instagram comments on each other's posts that come off as playful flirting. Some comments are pasted here.
Jenna Ortega commenting on Y/Nâs post of a photoshoot press for Wednesday last year in September:
jennaortega: Thatâs my girl
Another one on a post of the girl just doing an Instagram photo dump this year in March:
jennaortega: if you squint closely you can see me doing the dishes for my wife in the third photo
jennaortega: i will take your last name if i have to
jennaortega: my woman, i love you
Y/N L/N commenting on a post for Jennaâs Adidas campaign last year in November:
y/n_l/n: i will be the only one applauding the longest for u
y/n_l/n: tis is why i got adidas merch
Fast forward to Christmas with a dump of Jennaâs favorite people (Y/N included) in December last year:Â
y/n_l/n: I love you this is why I wanted to bake the turkey
y/n_l/n: merry christmas to my favorite person
Another one to a selfie of Jenna posted this year in April:
y/n_l/n: oh iâm interested, whatâs your number?
y/n_l/n: sign my contract to be with me forever? comes with a long time of house wife chores!
-
What do you think? Are they just really good friends with the cutest flirting? Or secretly dating? Answer us down in our poll, cute, or absolute?
Final vote with 20K votes
Cute: 24%
Absolute: 76%
â
carrots4life: but like, their relationship is both cute and absolute! why aint that a option?
mangofrosties: they are def dating istg iâve never seen them both this happy unless they are together
-
You smile, looking away from your laptop as you kick your feet. You do feel like Jenna had a soft spot for you, she always hugged you first, tried picking you up, falling asleep with each other on set. But she was just your best friend, you would all say to interviewers.
The door slightly creaks as you turn, smiling. âHey baby, I think you should see this.â
Jenna flops on the bed with you, letting you cuddle her as she kisses you and reads your screen, a goofy grin on her face.
âI guess they caught on that we might be more than friends. I mean, it's not a lie that we are best friends, girlfriends is just a small little detail."
âCute and absolute.â
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega imagine#vada cavell x y/n#tara carpenter x you#jenna ortega x y/n#vada cavell x reader#wednesday addams x you#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams x female reader#vada cavell x you#jenna ortega imagines#jenna ortega
1K notes
·
View notes