#When your not a heavy drinker | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepymarimo · 1 year ago

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𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣!

summary: the first time you make their heart skip a beat, w/ monster trio + law! pairing(s): luffy x gn!reader, zoro x gn!reader, sanji x gn!reader, law x gn!reader cw: none! an: ahhhh idk how to feel about this one but i hope you enjoy :') 👐

luffy

there are a lot of things that get luffy's heart racing.

a good meal. a cool looking fish. a killer party. all of it makes this captain happy, because he revels in the adventure. he lives for the moment. he feels deeply and strongly, a trait that acts as a double edged sword.

like now, as a torrent of anger and worry swirl in his chest and weigh him down. he's running through some dense woods, bursting through trees and falling down hills, a look of determination on his face.

an enemy had managed to sneak up on the crew.

what's worse? they ran off. with you.

luffy doesn't think twice. he pushes through anything in his way for the sake of finding you before things got too rough. as he runs, he finds the enemy's actions cowardly. someone using you to draw him out makes him irritate. he doesn't care if he's falling into some trap; he'd deal with whatever was put in front of him so long as he could rescue you.

he's worried for your well being, of course he is. even though he can't see you, he can feel you. his observation haki lets him know how frightened you are, a fact that makes him all the more angry.

then finally, in the distance, he catches sight of you.

you're in a clearing, the enemy looming over you. they're raising a weapon in your direction, much too close.

luffy feels his blood boil. he grabs ahold of some trees, running backwards and preparing to launch himself in your direction as fast as he can. his rubber arms grow taut as he stretches, his mind set on rescuing you.

an annoyed huff leaves him when he hears the enemy taunting you, threatening your life and mocking your ambitions. it has luffy's anger rising, because there was no way he'd let your dreams get made fun of. by anyone.

his thoughts become hazy, his strong feelings taking hold of his actions.

then, luffy hears it. it's like a melody, absolute music to his ears.

your laugh.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his head clears.

he can feel a big smile curling at his lips. his grin is all teeth, his eyes shining with equal parts pride and mischief. it's like a fire has been lit in his soul, like he's a toy that's just been wound up to the max.

even in your current predicament, even when you're utterly terrified, you have faith in yourself. in him.

if you can laugh, then so can he.

finally, he yells out his signature move, launching himself at the enemy and landing a punch so hard that it makes the air itself tremble.

"luffy!" you call with some tears prickling in your eyes, your limbs still shaky from the adrenaline. your smile falters at the edges, relief flooding your body. "you made it!"

your captain comes to life upon seeing your smile up close, his heart beating like a drum. his rubber arms wrap around you and he squeezes you to his chest, his laughter ringing in your ears.

"of course i did!" he grins, grabbing you by the hand and urging you to run with him to the ship. his grip on you is tight and secure. glancing back at you, he can't help but feel grateful to have you with him on this journey.

he snickers, letting emotion run through him without restriction. "you made my heart feel funny!"

zoro

after another victory, the straw hat pirates found themselves reveling in drinks, food and company.

for a while, the swordsman finds himself amidst the other heavy drinkers. he grins and knocks back bottle after bottle, content with listening to the animated conversations around him and observing the party.

eventually though, he craves some solitude. and so, he heads off towards a less occupied area where he can drink in peace.

he basks in isolation, until you manage to find your way to him. a big grin is on your face and he can't help but reciprocate with a small smirk when he notices your inebriated state. unceremoniously, you plop down next to him at a respectable distance.

“hey zo', gimme some!” you nod towards the large bottle he holds, completely immersed in the light, upbeat atmosphere. one of your hands even reaches out, making a sort of grabbing motion.

he possessively tightens his grip on the bottle, his expression hardening slightly as his brows furrowed. "hah? this is mine, go grab your own bottle."

"i don't wanna full drink, jus' need a little more and i'll be good." you answer, well aware of your limits. your tone becomes pleading as you look up at him with puppy dog eyes. "one sip. please?"

with a groan, he relents. he grumbles something about you being lucky that he's in such a good mood, before extending the bottle in your direction.

yet, it appears that you have some more tricks up your sleeve.

instead of grabbing the bottle, you simply tilt your head back and let your mouth hang open. you make an 'ah' sound, waiting for him to bestow you with the gift of alcohol.

he's a little taken aback at first. seriously? you wanted him to pour it for you? ugh, fine...

he rolls his eye and uses his free hand to firmly hold your jaw steady and open, bringing the bottle up and pouring the sake into your mouth.

your hand rests on his, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over his knuckles.

it's all fine at first, until his eyes lock with yours. in that moment, he seems to acknowledge the intimacy of the act, something primal stirring in his gut as he looked down at you. his cheeks redden.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his muscles tense and he goes almost still. he gets so distracted that his hand moves upwards, effectively drowning your face with sake. your head snaps back into its natural position and you start to cough, the alcohol burning your nostrils.

you give the swordsman an incredulous look, wiping the excess sake from your face. “what the hell was that for?”

“you’re the one that moved!” he sharply replies, even though he knows damn well that you were sitting good and still for him.

focusing inward, he seems pleased to feel that his heart is once again thumping steadily. unwavering. what an odd feeling it was, to have his strong heart skip a beat.

i'll deal with that later. he thinks, not at all wanting to open that can of worms.

so, he takes another swig from the bottle and uses one of his large hands to pat you on the back as you continued to cough up sake.

“oi, don’t waste good booze.”

sanji

the cook wasn't used to being spoiled. he's always been a giver, someone who provides and never takes.

he basked in the smiles that formed on the faces of his crew mates, his family, whenever he made them a good meal or protected them. he never asks for anything in return. however, that doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t be shown appreciation every now and then.

currently, he's on night watch.

a thick blanket is wrapped around his shoulders, the cold wind nipping at his cheeks and painting them a reddish color. a cigarette hangs from his lips, his breaths coming out as white puffs against the dark sky.

out of the corner of his eye, he can see light pouring out from the kitchen window. how long has that been on? his brows furrow in suspicion as he makes his way over, half-expecting to see luffy attempting to crack open the pantry.

yet when he opens the door, his posture immediately relaxes and he practically melts as he sees you. you're in your pajamas, hunched over the stove with a focused expression. he takes note of the cookbook laid out on the counter, guiding you as you prepared a dish.

he calls your name, his limbs turning to mush as he approached you. "what are you doing here so late? if you're hungry, i'll make you some-"

his nose twitches as he catches the scent of what you're making.

he knows it well because it happens to be one of his favorite dishes. coincidentally, it was one of your least favorites, the scent of it rather unbearable to you.

"you're... you're making..." his cigarette threatens to tumble out of his lips as he gives you a bewildered expression.

he can see your nose briefly scrunch up before you give him a smile, one of your hands holding a wooden spoon and mixing up ingredients on a pan. "yeah. i hope i'm making it right. i mean, it won't be as good as yours anyway, but still."

"mon amour, you shouldn't. i know how much you can't stand the smell of it." he tries to usher you away, placing a hand on yours and insisting that he didn't want you to be queasy. "why're you making this, mon amour? did someone ask you to?"

you shrug and keep a firm hold on the wooden spoon, replying like the answer was obvious. "because i thought it'd make you happy."

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his cigarette does fall to the floor. the hand that's over yours tightens, perhaps his way of grounding himself. he's speechless for a moment, something shaking him down to his very center.

he could almost cry.

"sanji?" you ask, a little concerned for the chef as his eyes seemed to glaze over.

the blond snaps out of it, giving you a smile that's so warm it makes you wonder if the sun had just come up. there's none of that surface level attraction or lust in his gaze, only an authentic appreciation.

thank you. he thinks, feeling light. thank you for caring.

his eyes close as he once again takes in the scent of the dish you're preparing. "it smells great, mon amour. better than anything i've ever made, i’m sure of it."

"i doubt that." you laugh, downplaying his compliment. with a nod, you resume cooking. "it'll be finished by the time you're done with your watch. i can handle it."

sanji thanks you once more, his heart feeling full. returning to his post, he allows you to do something kind for him. he allows himself to take, without worrying about having to repay you.

he quells any lingering thoughts of insecurity and self-doubt, focusing instead on the meal that's sure to be waiting for him in the morning.

law

it was a couple weeks ago that law made the decision to educate the crew a bit more on medical practices.

the surgeon knew that he couldn’t always be around to provide assistance to the crew, so it was only logical that he trained everyone in basic first aid, including you. day after day, he trained everyone, one at a time.

was it a lot? yes. however, law liked to be prepared and felt comfort in being thorough with his teachings, regardless of how tedious it was.

so, finally it was your day to be trained under his watchful eye.

you could tell how passionate he was about his work, how knowledgeable. if you had any questions or wanted to know more about a topic, he took the time to explain it to you properly.

he was quite patient, something you were thankful for since you knew he could sometimes grow frustrated.

when it's all said and done, he quizzes you. he sits atop the exam table, his expression apathetic.

"i'm a patient suffering from shortness of breath, chest pain and dizziness." he flatly says, watching your every move. "what comes to mind? what do you check first?"

you bite at your lip, your head scrambling to come up with any ideas of what your 'patient' could be suffering from. "arrhythmia?" you answer, uncertain. he gives you a pressing look, urging you to continue. "and i... check your heartbeat?"

"good." with a nod of his head, he gestures towards the stethoscope. "go ahead, then. check it and let's see if you get the reading right."

pushing past your initial hesitance, you grab the stethoscope and put it on, gently holding the bell in your hand. placing it on his clothed chest, your expression turns frustrated as you struggle to hear a beat.

he rolls his eyes and calls your name lightly. "you can't place it over fabric. it needs to go directly on the skin."

oh yeah, you needed to place it directly on his chest.

you click your tongue, embarrassed by your slight error. "yeah, yeah, i got it."

with that, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt.

however, instead of holding up his shirt and and placing the stethoscope directly over his heart, your hand slides upward from his abdomen and all the way to his chest.

your fingers inadvertently graze along his skin, tracing a warm path from his navel to his heart.

you're too focused on your task to notice his widening eyes and how his breath hitches.

a content smile forms on your face when you catch the sound of his heartbeat.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

you look up at him, slightly concerned. “i think there's something weird-"

"you're hearing things." he's quick to say, placing a hand over yours and promptly removing it from his person. standing from the exam table, he adjusts his shirt and takes a step back to put some much needed distance between the two of you. "good job today, you did well."

he turns in the opposite direction, not wanting to let his cracked composure show. steeling himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes off any residual feelings of unease.

it was just a fluke. he's quick to think, wanting to be rational.

in the end, he looks over his shoulder and gives you a nod before heading to his study.

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece fluff

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months ago

Note

Hello!! If you’re still taking requests I’d love to see a Nanami x Reader fic where the reader is pregnant but doesn’t realize yet but I’d like showing OBVIOUS symptoms and for Nanami to start to catch on to them, I don’t know if that’s like weird? 😭 Also I hope you’re doing good!!

THIS. IS. EVERYTHING.

Yeah, we're doing this right now

Nanami realizing you're pregnant before you do

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: well, basically the request above hehe

Warnings: I mean, reader is pregnant lol, fluff fluff fluff, Nanami is just the greenest flag I can't, please tell me you enjoy this as much as I do, I LOVE THAT MAN

Lately, everything feels… off.

It's subtle at first. Mornings are harder than they used to be, a strange kind of sluggishness that lingers in your limbs no matter how much coffee you drink after waking up. Your back aches at the most random times. And don't even get started on the nausea that strikes out of nowhere, leaving you clutching the bathroom sink with trembling hands.

But, still, it doesn’t cross your mind - not at first.

Nanami’s been noticing though. He’s always been perceptive, sharp in the way he observes the world, but lately, his focus seems to rest more on you. It starts with the small things: a subtle glance as you push your breakfast away with a grimace, the way his brow furrows when you wince, pressing a hand to your lower back. He doesn’t ask you about it immediately, and you’re grateful for that. Nanami doesn’t rush things, never has. He knows you well enough to wait until the right moment.

Today, however, something is different.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. You’re both in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the curtains in soft beams. Nanami’s making coffee, his movements precise as always, while you sit at the kitchen table with your hands wrapped around a cup of ginger tea. You’ve been craving that instead of coffee these days, the rich scent of the brew turning your stomach in a way it never used to. To be honest, you’ve never been a tea drinker your whole life.

He’s noticed that too.

You yawn, stifling the sound behind your hand as you stretch in your chair. There’s a strange heaviness in your body, and the thought of going back to bed, even after a full night’s sleep, is oddly tempting. It’s the third time this week that the idea of a nap has crossed your mind before noon. You blink hard, forcing your eyes to focus, and turn to Nanami, who’s watching you over the rim of his cup.

“Are you feeling alright?” he questions, his tone neutral but his eyes searching.

“Yeah, why?” you respond, but your voice lacks its usual energy.

Even to your own ears, it sounds tired. You clear your throat and offer a small smile, hoping to brush off the question as well as the wave of concern that starts bubbling up your chest all over again.

“I’ve just been a little out of it lately, that’s all.”

Nanami places his cup down on the counter, his gaze never leaving your face.

“You’ve been ‘a little out of it�� for a while now, darling.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet concern that has your defenses rising instinctively. You sit up straighter, forcing a more convincing smile this time.

“I’m fine, really. Just tired. It’s probably work.”

It’s true, to some extent. Work has been stressful, the usual demands piling up, but this exhaustion feels… different. It’s deeper, sinking into your bones in a way that no amount of rest seems to fix.

Nanami doesn’t say anything right away, but you can feel him assessing you. His silence is almost louder than words. You know he won’t push you to talk, but his patience, the way he waits for you to come to your own conclusion, can be just as insistent.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair and rubbing at your eyes. There’s no way you’ll get out of this situation, not when your beloved boyfriend sits opposite of you with his calm but demanding orbs staring straight through your soul.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something?”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and you both know it. But before you can think of anything else to say, a wave of nausea hits you hard and fast, making you lurch forward. You press a hand to your mouth, eyes wide as the world tilts just slightly. Oh god, not again.

Nanami is at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, warm and grounding.

“Hey, hey… breathe,” he murmurs gently, his thumb rubbing small circles against your spine.

“It’s okay. Just breathe.”

You close your eyes and focus on the rhythm of your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale until the nausea begins to subside. Slowly, you sit back, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. The embarrassment is hot on your face, and you can’t quite meet Nanami’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Kento”, you mutter, though you can tell it sounds unconvincing.

Nanami’s hand is still on your back, his touch firm yet gentle. He doesn’t say anything, not yet. You know he’s waiting, giving you space to figure out what’s going on. But even through your haze of denial, a part of you knows the truth is starting to unravel.

“Does this happen often?”

His voice is calm, but there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something you can’t quite place.

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer.

“It’s just been the past couple of weeks,” you admit quietly.

“I think it’s stress. Maybe some kind of stomach bug?”

Nanami’s brow furrows slightly, and he crouches down beside your chair, his eyes searching your face with that same quiet intensity.

“Are there any other symptoms?”

Your mouth opens to say no, but then you stop, thinking back over the past few weeks. The tiredness, the nausea, the strange sensitivity to smells, your shifting moods - small things you’d brushed off or tried to ignore. But now, all at once, it feels like they’re adding up, slotting together in a way that you hadn’t considered before.

You glance down at your hand, the one resting on your stomach, and something inside you clicks.

Oh.

Nanami must notice the shift in your expression because his hand stills on your back.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat before you finally manage to speak.

“I think… I might be pregnant.”

There. You’ve said it. And the weight of those words hangs heavy in the air between you, a truth you hadn’t been ready to acknowledge until now.

Kento doesn’t react immediately. His expression stays calm, though you can see the flicker of something in his eyes - surprise, perhaps, or maybe something more. Did he already suspect this? Is this why he pushed you to think about your symptoms further? Slowly, he straightens up, standing in front of you now as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure?”

You shake your head, feeling a little lost.

“I’m not. I… I hadn’t really thought about it until just now.”

The truth is, you hadn’t considered the possibility at all. With everything going on - work, life, the general busyness of existing, it hadn’t crossed your mind that this could be the reason behind everything you’ve been feeling.

But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but wonder how you missed the signs.

Nanami’s hand gently cups your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re looking at him. His gaze is steady, calm in a way that grounds you, just like always.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet,” he says quietly.

“But if you think there’s a chance…”

You nod, your throat suddenly tight.

“Yeah. There might be.”

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The air between you feels thick with unspoken emotions, a quiet understanding settling between you. Nanami steps closer, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing against your skin.

“We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

“Together.”

The sincerity in his words washes over you, bringing with it a flood of emotions you hadn’t realized you were holding back. You blink, your vision blurring slightly as you reach up to cover his hand with yours.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami’s expression softens, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together. I promise” he mutters against your skin.

You nod, your heart swelling with a mix of fear, uncertainty, and something else, something warmer, softer. You aren’t alone in this. No matter what happens, you have your boyfriend by your side, steady and unshakable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Do you want to take a test?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s gauging your readiness.

You hesitate, biting your lip.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, I guess I should, right?”

Nanami nods, but he doesn’t push.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The idea of taking a test feels overwhelming, like it would make everything real in a way you’re not sure you’re prepared for. But at the same time, the uncertainty is starting to weigh on you, the not knowing gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to gather yourself. When you open them again, Nanami is still there, watching you with that quiet patience you’ve come to rely on so much.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice trembling just a little.

“Okay. I’ll take a test.”

Nanami squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring presence beside you.

“I’ll go get one,” he offers, his tone calm and matter-of-fact, like he’s suggesting something as simple as picking up groceries.

You nod, feeling a little more settled now that a decision has been made.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

He leans down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back.

“I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he grabs his keys and heads for the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder before he slips out into the hallway.

Once he’s gone, the quiet of the apartment feels almost too loud. You sit there for a long moment, staring at the cup of tea in front of you, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite hold onto.

Pregnant. You might be pregnant.

The idea feels too big, too surreal to grasp, and yet it’s there, lingering just at the edge of your awareness. A part of you is scared, terrified of the changes this could bring. But another part, a part you’re only just beginning to acknowledge, feels something else. Hope, maybe? Excitement? It’s hard to tell.

All you know for sure is that everything feels different now, that your whole life will be turned upside down if this test comes out positive.

When Nanami returns a short while later, test in hand, you take it from him with trembling fingers. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a small, reassuring nod as you disappear into the bathroom.

The minutes that follow are some of the longest of your life. You pace back and forth in front of the sink, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for the results. The silence feels deafening, and all you can do is focus on your breathing, trying to keep yourself calm.

Finally, the time is up. You glance down at the test, your breath catching in your throat as you read the result.

Positive.

You stare at it for a long moment, your mind struggling to process what you’re seeing. And then, slowly, the reality starts to sink in.

You’re pregnant.

With shaking hands, you open the bathroom door to find Nanami standing just outside, waiting. He looks up at you, his expression calm but expectant.

“Well?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, your voice catching in your throat as you hold up the test.

“It’s positive.”

For a moment, Nanami doesn’t say anything. His eyes flicker to the test in your hand, and then back to your face, his expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle, grounding embrace.

“We’re going to be okay,” he murmurs against your hair.

“You’re going to be okay.”

And somehow, with his arms around you, you really believe him. Maybe you will be able to work this out. After all, you have none other than Kento Nanami by your side, right?

“Kento…”, you begin, the flood of sniffs and wild emotions now slowly but surely calming down.

“What is it, darling?”

“Did you…did you know?”

He sends a small smile your way while gently stroking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I couldn’t be sure. But after seeing you like this for a couple of weeks now, I had some suspicions”, he admits quietly.

You let out a huff.

“I can’t believe you realized it earlier than I did.”

“You are my life, (y/n). I notice every little thin about you.”

“And now you’ll be the father of a child”, you breathe out.

The words still feel strange while rolling off your tongue. Kento Nanami will be a father – the father of your child.

You are pregnant.

This is real.

“And I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my child.”

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elikajinnie · 3 months ago

Text

Hate Is A Strong Word - N.R

P: Slytherin!Ni-ki X fem!reader

Synopsis: You never imagined that the picture perfect Slytherin would like you

Warnings?: Fluff, Misunderstandings, bullying (not from N-ki). Insecurities.

a/n: So this is the start of my Hogwarts au for each of the members. Ni-ki is the first one out! :D The next one will be Jake!

masterlist

----

As the heavy oak doors of the Transfiguration classroom creaked open, you walked in alongside your friend Leeseo. The room, illuminated by large arched windows that allowed beams of sunlight to dance across the stone floor, was already buzzing with the chatter of students.

Leeseo nudged you gently, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I heard today’s lesson is going to be something really challenging,” she whispered, her excitement barely contained. You nodded, sharing her eagerness. Transfiguration was one of the most fascinating subjects at Hogwarts, and Professor McGonagall’s classes were always a blend of rigorous discipline and awe-inspiring magic.

As you took your seats, you glanced toward the front of the classroom. There, standing tall and composed by the blackboard, was Professor McGonagall. Her stern yet kind eyes surveyed the room, ensuring everyone was settled. With her wand in hand, she exuded an air of authority and wisdom, her emerald robes flowing gracefully around her.

The murmurs gradually subsided as McGonagall stepped forward, her presence commanding your attention. “Good morning, class,” she began, her voice clear and steady. “Today, we will be advancing to human transfiguration, a complex and delicate branch of magic that requires utmost precision and concentration.”

The mention of human transfiguration sent a ripple of excitement and nervousness through the room. You exchanged a quick, thrilled glance with Leeseo. This was the kind of magic that defined wizardry, the intricate spells that transformed the very essence of matter.

Professor McGonagall flicked her wand, and the blackboard behind her filled with neat, precise instructions and diagrams. “Now, before we begin, I must remind you of the importance of practice and control. Improper transfiguration can have… unintended consequences.” Her eyes swept the room, emphasizing the seriousness of her words.

With a final nod of understanding, you prepared your wand and opened your textbook to the designated chapter.

After Transfiguration, your day continued with a series of classes, each filled with the usual hustle and bustle of student life at Hogwarts. Charms was lively as always, with Professor Flitwick’s enthusiastic instruction keeping everyone engaged. Herbology followed, where you worked in the greenhouse, learning about magical plants and their properties.

As the day wore on, you eventually made your way to the dungeon for Potions class. The air grew cooler and the corridors darker as you descended, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. You and Leeseo entered the dimly lit classroom, settling into your usual seats near the middle. Around you, your classmates were chatting in low tones, the anticipation palpable.

The door swung open with a dramatic flair, and Professor Snape swept into the room, his black robes billowing behind him. The room fell silent instantly, every student turning their attention to the formidable Potions Master. Snape’s presence commanded a certain respect—or perhaps fear—that was undeniable.

“Today,” Snape began, his voice a silky drawl that carried a hint of menace, “you will brew a Veritaserum.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the class. “A truth potion, which when correctly brewed, will compel the drinker to reveal their innermost secrets.”

He moved to the front of the classroom, where a cauldron was already simmering. With precise, deliberate movements, he began demonstrating the brewing process, adding ingredients with a practiced ease. His every action was fluid, almost mesmerizing, and you found yourself taking meticulous notes, your eyes darting between the instructions in the textbook and Snape’s methodical demonstration.

“Take care to follow the instructions exactly,” Snape intoned, his dark eyes sweeping the room. “Any deviation could render the potion useless… or worse.”

He finished his demonstration and stepped back, crossing his arms. “I have set up each of you with a partner, so I expect you all to work together,” he announced. The room buzzed with curiosity as you waited for your name to be called.

One by one, Snape called out the pairings. Leeseo was partnered with a Gryffindor student, and soon your name came up. “You will be working with Nishimura Ni-ki,” Snape declared.

You glanced over at Ni-ki, a Slytherin student known for his cunning nature and sharp intellect. Your eyes met briefly before he stood up and walked toward you, his expression neutral. He took the seat beside you, and for a moment, you simply looked at each other, assessing.

“Shall I cut and you brew?” Ni-ki asked, his voice calm and steady.

You nodded in agreement. “That sounds good.”

With a silent understanding, you both began your task. Ni-ki’s hands moved deftly, slicing ingredients with precision and efficiency, while you focused on the careful process of brewing, ensuring each step was followed meticulously. Though you didn’t converse much, there was an unspoken coordination between you, a shared goal that drove your efforts.

The potion started to take shape, its color gradually shifting as you added each ingredient in turn. Ni-ki’s sharp observations and quick corrections were invaluable, and you found yourself appreciating his expertise despite your limited interactions.

As the final stages approached, the potion glowed a soft, silvery hue, indicating you were on the right track. Snape prowled the classroom, occasionally stopping to observe or comment on various pairs’ progress. When he reached your desk, he paused, scrutinizing your work with his usual critical eye.

“Acceptable,” he murmured, giving a slight nod before moving on. It was high praise coming from Snape, and you felt a sense of accomplishment.

After you and Ni-ki finished brewing the Veritaserum, you let out a quiet sigh of relief and settled back into your seat. The potion simmered gently, its translucent glow a sign of your successful collaboration. With the class winding down, you pulled out your notebook and began doodling absentmindedly, your mind drifting.

Ni-ki, meanwhile, was meticulously sorting out the remaining ingredients. You stole a quick glance at him, curiosity getting the better of you. His recently dyed light hair hung in front of his eyes, accentuating his piercing stare. Despite his cold demeanor, there was an undeniable intensity in his gaze that seemed to see right through people. His robes fit him perfectly, the black fabric contrasting sharply with his pale complexion. The Slytherin badge, neatly stitched into his robes, was complemented by the prefect badge pinned just beside it, a testament to his standing and discipline.

You had to admit, even if only to yourself, that Ni-ki looked good. There was something striking about him, an aura that was hard to ignore. But you would never voice this thought out loud. You admired him quietly, keeping your appreciation to yourself. Despite his coldness, he wasn’t like some of his fellow Slytherins who resorted to bullying and teasing. No, his crime was different—he was aloof, detached, and seemingly emotionless. He was an enigma, always keeping to himself and his close-knit group of peers.

As you doodled, you found your thoughts wandering. What was Ni-ki hiding behind that expressionless face? What would it be like to see him smile, to see his features soften with joy? Did he ever feel sadness, and if so, did he let himself cry? These questions swirled in your mind, each one deepening the mystery that was Ni-ki.

Before you could ponder further, the sound of chairs scraping against the stone floor signaled the end of class. Snape’s curt dismissal barely registered as you blinked, realizing how lost in thought you had become. You looked up to find that Ni-ki had already stood up and left, leaving behind a spotless workstation. The ingredients were neatly put away, the table wiped clean. In your daydreaming, you hadn’t even noticed him tidying up.

As you left the Potions classroom, the dark and cool dungeons faded behind you, but your thoughts lingered on Ni-ki. You shook your head, trying to clear the lingering questions that kept popping up about him. It wasn’t like you cared—he was distant and cold. But the fact that he cleaned up without saying a word or asking for acknowledgment—it was almost… considerate. Strange for someone like him.

You walked down the stone corridor, heading toward the next class with Leeseo catching up to you. “How was it working with Ni-ki?” she asked, her voice light and curious.

You shrugged, keeping your expression neutral. “He’s efficient. Doesn’t talk much.”

Leeseo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Efficient? That’s not the word I expected you to use.” She grinned playfully, nudging you. “You didn’t bicker, did you?”

You rolled your eyes. “We didn’t even speak much, to be honest. He just… does his part and leaves. Not much else to say.”

“Classic Ni-ki,” she mused, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. “Still, it’s kind of impressive that you got to work with him. He’s got a reputation, you know.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” You kept your voice light, trying not to dwell on the fact that you had spent the better part of Potions class analyzing the guy instead of just brewing the potion. “It’s just one class though. Nothing special.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t help but wonder why he kept himself so closed off. There was a quiet confidence about him, yes, but also a wall that he didn’t seem to let anyone through. It made him mysterious, sure, but also frustrating. What was he hiding? Or was it just his nature, plain and simple?

Leeseo and you reached the courtyard, the cool autumn air refreshing after the confined dungeon. You tilted your head up, letting the breeze rustle through your hair, trying to shake off the distraction that Ni-ki had become in your thoughts.

“Well, he’s not bad-looking,” Leeseo added with a grin, catching you completely off guard.

You nearly choked on air, throwing her an incredulous look. “Seriously?”

She laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, you can’t deny it. He’s got that whole mysterious, brooding Slytherin thing going on. You’d be blind not to notice.”

You groaned, tugging your scarf tighter around your neck as you continued walking. “I don’t need any more distractions, thanks. We have enough on our plate with the upcoming exams and essays.” You tried to steer the conversation away, not wanting to admit that, yes, Ni-ki was ridiculously good-looking. Admiring him from afar was one thing, but beyond that? Absolutely not.

Leeseo just smiled knowingly, but thankfully, she let the topic drop as you made your way to the next class. Still, as the day went on, Ni-ki’s expressionless face, his precise movements, and the way his hair fell over his eyes refused to leave the corners of your mind.

You sighed to yourself. This was going to be harder to ignore than you thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It all really started one afternoon at the library when you were tucked away at your usual table near the back, surrounded by textbooks and parchment. You were completely immersed in your reading when you noticed a shadow fall across the table.

Looking up, you saw him—Nishimura Ni-ki.

Without a word, he pulled out the chair opposite you and sat down. No greeting, no explanation, just the soft sound of him placing his books on the table. He didn’t meet your eyes, didn’t acknowledge your surprised expression. Instead, he opened his own textbook and began reading, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him to sit there.

You blinked, taken aback. For a moment, you considered asking him what he was doing. After all, it wasn’t as if the library was short on tables, and Ni-ki wasn’t exactly known for being social with anyone outside of his Slytherin circle. But instead, you tried to focus on your work, convincing yourself that he’d leave soon enough.

But he didn’t.

He stayed, flipping through pages, scribbling notes in his neat, precise handwriting. He didn’t speak, didn’t look at you—just sat there, quietly doing his own work. You couldn’t help but steal a few glances at him, confused by his presence. Why was he here, sitting with you, of all people?

After what felt like an eternity, you couldn’t hold back any longer. "What are you doing?" you asked, keeping your voice low to avoid drawing Madam Pince’s ire.

He didn’t look up from his book. "Studying," he replied, his tone clipped and direct.

You raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. But why here?"

For the first time, he looked up, meeting your eyes with that same unreadable expression he always wore. "Is there a problem?" he asked calmly, his voice steady.

You hesitated. He wasn’t being rude, exactly, but the way he spoke made it clear he didn’t think he needed to explain himself. You shook your head, deciding it wasn’t worth pushing further. "No," you muttered, turning back to your own notes.

And so the pattern began.

Each time you came to the library, Ni-ki would show up not long after. Sometimes he arrived before you, already seated at the same table, as if claiming it before you could. Other times, he’d stroll in after you’d settled down, take his seat across from you, and dive into his work. He never spoke unless you asked him a direct question, and even then, his answers were always short, almost dismissive. It wasn’t that he was unkind—just distant, like there was no need for conversation.

"Why do you keep sitting here?" you asked one day, after he’d settled into the chair across from you for what felt like the hundredth time.

He didn’t even look up. "It’s quiet," he answered simply, continuing to write in his notebook.

You frowned, not satisfied with the answer. "There are other tables. You could sit anywhere else."

"True." He glanced up briefly, his eyes meeting yours before flicking back to his book. "But I’m sitting here."

That was all he said. No further explanation, no invitation for more questions. Just a simple, matter-of-fact statement that left you feeling more confused than before.

It wasn’t like he was helping you with your work, either. He didn’t offer advice, didn’t join in on any discussions about the material you were studying. He was just… there. A quiet presence that made you hyper-aware of his every movement, even though he barely acknowledged you. It was unnerving at first, but over time, you began to expect it—Ni-ki would be there, silently doing his own thing while you tried to focus on yours.

There were moments when you found yourself glancing at him more than you should have. His hair, still that light shade, would occasionally fall in front of his eyes, and he’d push it back with a practiced motion. His fingers moved with such precision as he wrote, and his posture was always so composed, like he never let himself relax fully.

And yet, despite the quiet, there was something oddly comforting about his presence. It was strange to admit, but in the silence of the library, having him across from you became… familiar. Predictable, even.

Still, the lack of interaction left you with more questions than answers. Why sit with you every time if he had no intention of talking? What was he gaining from it? Was it simply convenience, or was there something else going on that you couldn’t see?

One afternoon, after another long stretch of silent studying, you finally broke the quiet. "You don’t have to sit here, you know."

He paused, his quill hovering over the parchment. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and for a moment, he seemed to consider your words. "I know," he said quietly, his voice softer than usual. "But I am."

And with that, he went back to his work, leaving you with nothing but the steady scratch of his quill and the growing confusion swirling in your mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the weeks passed, Ni-ki’s quiet presence at your table in the library became something you began to anticipate. It was no longer surprising when he pulled out the chair across from you, settling in without a word. At first, it had unnerved you—the silent way he occupied the space, his sharp focus on his own work, and the fact that, outside these moments, he didn’t acknowledge you at all. But now, somehow, you didn’t mind it.

In fact, you found yourself looking forward to it. His quiet company had a strange, calming effect, as if the library wasn’t truly complete without him sitting across from you. You had started to expect him there, so much so that on the rare occasions when he wasn’t, you couldn’t help but feel a little off-kilter, like something was missing from the day.

It wasn’t that the two of you had grown closer, at least not in the usual sense. He never spoke unless you asked him a direct question, and even then, his answers were brief and to the point. He offered no opinions, no conversation starters—just an occasional glance in your direction, sometimes a quiet nod. And yet, you had grown accustomed to the silence between you, a silence that felt oddly comfortable.

But the strange thing was, beyond these quiet library sessions, it was as if Ni-ki didn’t know you at all.

In classes, he barely looked your way. If he did speak to you, it was only because the lesson demanded it—when he was your partner for a potion, or during group work in Transfiguration. His responses were always curt, efficient, like he was checking off a box before returning to his own tasks. You would pass each other in the corridors, or see him in the Great Hall, always surrounded by his Slytherin friends, and it was like you didn’t exist. Not a glance, not a nod, nothing to suggest he even knew you.

It puzzled you to no end. You weren’t sure if it bothered you or just left you more curious. Why go out of his way to sit with you in the library if he had no interest in interacting with you elsewhere? It wasn’t like he needed help with his studies—Ni-ki was brilliant in his own right. And it wasn’t like you were friends, either. In fact, you had hardly spoken more than a handful of sentences to each other since you first started sharing a table.

You found yourself wondering more and more why he bothered. Why, out of all the places in Hogwarts, did he always choose the spot across from you? Why did he sit with you, week after week, without saying much of anything, only to act as if you didn’t exist the moment you left the library?

But you didn’t dare ask him. For one thing, Ni-ki was rarely alone. He was almost always surrounded by his Slytherin friends—usually fellow prefects or others from his house, most of whom carried an air of superiority that reminded you why you kept your distance from most of them. There was never a convenient moment to pull him aside, and even if there were, you couldn’t imagine what you’d say.

And then there was the other part of you, the part that didn’t exactly want to know the answer. What if it was something you didn’t want to hear? What if the reason was as simple as convenience, or worse—what if there was no reason at all? What if, to him, you were just a tablemate, nothing more?

You’d often catch yourself glancing over at him during Potions or in the Great Hall, trying to make sense of him. His friends would be laughing or talking among themselves, and there Ni-ki would be, sitting quietly, his expression unreadable, completely detached from whatever conversation was happening around him. You wondered if he was the same with them—distant, aloof, only speaking when necessary.

Sometimes you’d catch his eye, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw something—maybe recognition, maybe nothing at all. But then, he’d look away, and the moment would pass as quickly as it came.

It became a kind of ritual—this quiet routine in the library, these fleeting moments of wondering. You couldn’t deny the growing curiosity, though. Why did he choose you, out of everyone he could have sat with? And why did it seem like he was perfectly fine with just… existing alongside you, never crossing the invisible line that separated the two of you?

You wished you had the courage to ask him. But each time you considered it, you reminded yourself of who he was—Nishimura Ni-ki, Slytherin prefect, sharp-tongued and unreadable. He wasn’t someone you could just ask a simple, casual question and expect an answer that wouldn’t make you regret it.

And besides, maybe it was better this way—better to leave the mystery unsolved than to shatter the quiet routine you had somehow built with him.

Even your friends began to notice. Leeseo had raised her eyebrows the first time she saw Ni-ki sitting with you in the library, but she hadn’t said anything beyond the occasional teasing. “Your silent study buddy’s here again,” she’d say with a wink when she caught him at the table. “You two make quite the pair.”

You always brushed it off, rolling your eyes at her remarks. But deep down, a part of you wondered if she saw something you were missing. Was there more to Ni-ki’s presence than what you had convinced yourself to believe?

It was during one of those quiet afternoons, with parchment spread across the table and the soft scratch of your quill filling the silence, that you found yourself thinking about it more than usual. Why, out of all the students at Hogwarts, did he choose to sit with you? Surely, he had plenty of friends or places he could have gone. And more importantly, why did he never talk to you outside of the library?

Your eyes flicked up to Ni-ki, who was seated across from you as usual, engrossed in a large, ancient-looking tome. His light hair fell over his forehead, slightly tousled from the breeze outside. He looked calm, composed, and completely at ease, as if this had been his routine for years.

A question hovered on the tip of your tongue, one you had been pushing aside for weeks now. But before you could find the courage to ask, Ni-ki suddenly closed his book with a soft thud. You blinked, startled out of your thoughts, and he stood up, gathering his things with that same quiet precision.

He looked at you, his dark eyes briefly meeting yours. For a second, you thought he might say something, but instead, he gave a slight nod—his usual, silent goodbye. Without a word, he turned and left the library, his footsteps soft against the stone floor.

You watched him go, feeling that familiar, quiet emptiness settle in his absence.

What you didn’t know was that, in Ni-ki’s mind, a storm was brewing. A quiet turmoil, hidden beneath his calm exterior, had begun to take shape, and it was all because of you. He had always prided himself on his ability to maintain focus, to keep his thoughts clear and his goals straightforward. But lately, you had become an unexpected variable in his otherwise predictable life.

At first, he had taken little notice of you. You were just another student, one among many who populated Hogwarts. But then, slowly but surely, that indifference had shifted to something else—curiosity. He began to notice the way your brow furrowed in concentration when you studied, the way your lips would curve into a small smile when you finally grasped a particularly tricky concept. There was something intriguing about your determination, something that pulled at the edges of his awareness.

As he continued to share those quiet moments in the library with you, he found himself observing you more intently. He noticed the small things: how you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought, how your expressions shifted subtly as you worked through problems. You were a puzzle he hadn’t expected to encounter, and with each encounter, the mystery deepened.

But it didn’t stop there. What began as a mild curiosity morphed into confusion. Ni-ki couldn’t quite articulate it, but there was something compelling about you—something that made you linger in his thoughts long after he had left the library. Why did your laughter echo in his mind? Why did he find himself glancing in your direction during meals, seeking you out in the crowded Great Hall, even when he was surrounded by his friends?

It was disconcerting, to say the least. He was known for his stoic demeanor, for being the type of person who kept his emotions in check. Yet, here he was, caught in an unyielding tide of thoughts about someone he had initially dismissed. It was frustrating, and a little alarming. He was supposed to be focused on his studies, on his role as a prefect, on maintaining the reputation he had carefully crafted. So why couldn’t he shake the feeling that there was something deeper to explore with you?

Every time you caught his gaze across the Great Hall or shared a fleeting moment in the library, the storm would build inside him—curiosity colliding with confusion, a need to understand you battling against the fear of opening up. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if this was all one-sided, and he was just a distant presence in your life? The idea sent a jolt of uncertainty through him.

Ni-ki’s friends began to notice his distraction. They would tease him about how often he seemed to lose focus, how he would sometimes pause mid-conversation, his eyes drifting off to the side as if searching for something—or someone. But he brushed their remarks aside, masking his inner conflict with indifference.

He found himself wrestling with a mounting desire to approach you, to understand the enigma you represented. But every time he would gather the courage to break that silence, to say something more than the necessary exchanges during class, he hesitated. The distance between you felt both comforting and suffocating.

It was a confusing dichotomy, and Ni-ki was left to navigate his own feelings in silence, unsure of where this newfound intrigue would lead him. All he knew was that every time he sat in front of you in the library, the storm inside him would shift—pushing him closer to the edge of wanting to reach out, even as fear held him back.

He didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know why he kept coming back, why he couldn’t stay away, even though he knew that sitting there, in silence, only made things more complicated.

But he couldn’t stop. And he didn’t want to. He just needed to figure out how.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It started gradually, almost imperceptibly. The silence between you and Ni-ki began to shift, not in any overt way but in small moments that made it feel… less heavy. The library sessions continued as they always had, with Ni-ki sitting across from you, his head bent over his books, while you quietly worked on your own assignments. But there were times now when you found yourself speaking.

It started off with casual remarks. Maybe it was the stress of exams or the overwhelming workload that had you venting aloud, but Ni-ki never seemed bothered by it. He didn’t offer much in return—just a short nod or a quiet hum of acknowledgment—but he listened.

One evening, after a particularly difficult day, you couldn’t hold back anymore. "I just don’t get it," you muttered, staring at your Transfiguration textbook in frustration. "No matter how much I study, I can’t seem to get this right. And McGonagall keeps assigning more complex material like it’s nothing."

Ni-ki looked up, his eyes flicking to the page you were stuck on before settling back on your frustrated expression. He didn’t say anything, just kept watching you with that same quiet intensity you had grown used to.

"And," you continued, feeling a strange comfort in speaking your thoughts aloud to him, "there’s this Slytherin who won’t stop picking on me. Every time I pass by them, it’s like they have to make some snide comment or knock my bag off my shoulder. It’s ridiculous." You sighed, shaking your head. "But I guess that’s just how it goes sometimes."

Ni-ki’s eyes darkened slightly at your words, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing. You didn’t expect a response; you were just letting off steam. Somehow, Ni-ki’s silent presence always made it easier to say the things that were weighing on you. You could talk to him without fear of judgment or interruption. He just listened, and that was enough.

The next day, something changed. The Slytherin student who had made it their mission to irritate you suddenly stopped. They no longer sneered at you in the halls, no longer made rude remarks or tried to provoke you. In fact, they seemed to go out of their way to avoid you altogether. You didn’t understand why, but you weren’t about to complain.

And then, there was the folder. It appeared during one of your classes, a neatly organized folder filled with notes on every subject you had been struggling with. The handwriting was unmistakable—precise, clean, and undeniably Ni-ki’s. The notes were thorough, covering all the topics you had mentioned having trouble with. It was as if he had gone out of his way to compile everything you needed to help you catch up.

You didn’t know how to react at first. Gratitude and surprise warred within you as you thumbed through the pages, recognizing the meticulous effort that had gone into writing them. Ni-ki hadn’t said a word about it, hadn’t even hinted that he was going to help you like this. He had just quietly, and without fanfare, made sure you had everything you needed.

The next time you saw him in the library, you didn’t hesitate to thank him.

"Ni-ki," you began softly, looking up from your books to meet his gaze. His head lifted slightly, acknowledging that he was listening. "Thank you—for the notes." Your voice was sincere, full of the appreciation you felt. "I really didn’t expect it, but it helped a lot."

He didn’t say anything in return. He just nodded once, his face remaining as impassive as ever, as if this grand gesture was nothing out of the ordinary. For Ni-ki, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe that was just how he operated—helping silently, without drawing attention to it, without expecting anything in return.

But for you, it meant something. A lot, actually. It was a reminder that beneath Ni-ki’s cold exterior, there was more to him than he let on. His actions spoke louder than any words could, and though he kept his distance in almost every other part of your life, in these quiet moments, he was closer than anyone.

And so, you didn’t ask what had happened with the Slytherin who had suddenly stopped bothering you. You didn’t ask why Ni-ki had gone through the trouble of writing those notes for you or why he had stayed by your side all this time in the library. Because somehow, you knew. This was just Ni-ki’s way—silent, unspoken care hidden behind his cool exterior.

And that was enough for now.

One evening, during one of your usual study sessions in the library, you were stuck. The upcoming exam loomed over you, and no matter how many times you read the same question, the answer refused to reveal itself. You sat there in silence, frustration building as you stared blankly at the page in front of you.

The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of parchment and soft footsteps in the distance. Ni-ki sat across from you, as usual, his head bent over his own work. The silence between you two was comfortable by now, and you didn’t expect it to be broken anytime soon. You sighed, trying to push through the mental block that had settled over you.

Then, you heard movement—a soft rustling. Glancing up, you saw Ni-ki standing. For a moment, you thought he was leaving, and disappointment bloomed unexpectedly in your chest. You looked back down, resigned to continuing your struggle alone, but then something surprising happened.

You felt the faint shift of air and the quiet creak of the wooden bench, startled, you turned your head and found him sitting right next to you. His presence was closer than it had ever been during these sessions, and it made your heart race for reasons you didn’t entirely understand.

"Where are you stuck?" Ni-ki asked, his voice soft but clear. There was no trace of his usual distance, just a quiet sincerity that caught you off guard.

Blinking, still mildly in shock from the sudden change in his behavior, you pointed at the question that had been giving you trouble. You half-expected him to glance at it, make some passing comment, and return to his seat. But instead, Ni-ki leaned in slightly, examining the material with a focused expression.

He began speaking, his voice calm and smooth as he explained the concept in clear, concise terms. There was a quiet assurance in the way he spoke, his words precise and easy to follow. He wasn’t just repeating the textbook either—he was breaking it down in a way that made it understandable, relatable even. You listened closely, hanging onto each word, and slowly, like fog lifting from your mind, the confusion began to clear.

With each sentence Ni-ki uttered, the material started to make sense. What had seemed impossible moments before was now manageable, the concepts clicking together as he guided you through the steps. His voice had a soothing quality to it, calm and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to sit with you and explain.

You found yourself glancing at him occasionally, taking in the way his eyes stayed fixed on the book, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he worked through the material with you. There was something unexpectedly gentle about the way he spoke, something that contrasted with the cold, distant persona he usually kept up. And in this moment, sitting side by side in the dim light of the library, it was hard to remember why you had ever thought of him as distant at all.

When he finished explaining, you stared at the page for a moment, absorbing the new understanding. It felt like a weight had lifted, and for the first time in hours, you felt a surge of confidence that maybe—just maybe—you could actually manage this exam.

"Does that make sense now?" Ni-ki asked, his voice still soft.

You nodded, almost dazed. "Yeah… it does. Thanks."

He didn’t say anything in response, just gave a small, barely noticeable nod before settling back into his seat, returning to his own work as if nothing unusual had happened.

But something had shifted between you. You weren’t sure what it was exactly, but the air felt different now—less like the quiet companionship you had grown used to and more like… something else. Something unspoken.

You sat there for a few moments longer, still processing both the study material and the fact that Ni-ki had just sat next to you, helped you. He hadn’t done it begrudgingly either; he had simply done it because you needed help. And his presence, his voice, had made all the difference.

As you returned to your notes, you couldn’t help but glance at him again, wondering what other sides of Ni-ki lay hidden beneath the surface.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

One evening, after hours of studying and flipping through books, you found yourself exhausted. Your eyes were burning from reading the same passage over and over, and you sighed loudly, resting your head on the table. Ni-ki glanced up from his work, giving you a quizzical look.

“Long day?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, almost concerned.

You nodded, not lifting your head. “Yeah. Between Potions, Transfiguration, and Herbology, I feel like my brain is going to melt.”

There was a pause before you heard him shifting in his seat. “Potions is your weakest subject, right?”

You looked up, blinking in surprise. It wasn’t like Ni-ki to make small talk, and the fact that he remembered your struggles in Potions caught you off guard.

“Yeah,” you admitted, sitting up straighter. “It just doesn’t click for me like other subjects do.”

Ni-ki seemed to consider this for a moment before responding, “I used to be terrible at Potions too. In second year, I once brewed a Sleeping Draught that knocked out half the class. Snape wasn’t pleased.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a laugh escaping you. “No way! You, bad at Potions? I can’t believe it.”

“Everyone starts somewhere.”

Another time, while working on your Charms essay, you noticed Ni-ki was unusually quiet—even for him. He wasn’t reading or writing, just sitting there, staring at his open textbook with an intense focus that seemed off.

You hesitated before asking, “Are you okay? You seem… distracted.”

He didn’t look up at first, his fingers absentmindedly tapping the table. “I’m fine,” he said, but his tone lacked its usual confidence.

You waited, sensing that he wasn’t fine at all. After a long moment of silence, Ni-ki finally spoke again, quieter this time. “I’m… just thinking about some things. It’s nothing important.”

You could tell that was a lie. He was always so composed, so in control of his emotions, that seeing him unsettled was strange. But you didn’t push him. Instead, you offered something simple.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

Ni-ki glanced at you, his expression softening just a little. He didn’t say anything, but the small nod he gave you felt like a thank you.

Another late night, the library was almost empty, save for you and Ni-ki at your usual spot. You had been studying for hours, and exhaustion was starting to settle in. You stretched, groaning as you reached for your quill.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you muttered. “My brain is fried.”

Ni-ki glanced up from his book, closing it with a quiet snap. “Take a break.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the suggestion. “You? Telling me to take a break? What’s gotten into you?”

“Even I take breaks sometimes.”

Skeptical, you raised an eyebrow. “Really? I’ve never seen it.”

Instead of responding, Ni-ki stood up and stretched, motioning for you to follow him. “Come on. Let’s walk around for a few minutes.”

Confused but curious, you followed him out of the library and into the cool night air. The two of you walked in silence for a while, the soft breeze helping to clear your mind. After a few minutes, Ni-ki broke the silence.

“You push yourself too hard sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the observation. “You’re one to talk.”

He shrugged “Maybe. But I know when to stop.”

But perhaps the most unexpected moment came one late afternoon, as you both sat in the library, quietly working on your respective assignments. You were in a lighter mood that day, having finally finished an essay that had been plaguing you for weeks. Feeling more relaxed, you absentmindedly began talking about the ridiculous antics of a few fellow students during Herbology, mimicking the professor's reactions with exaggerated gestures and voices.

Ni-ki, as usual, didn’t say much, just listened with his usual calm expression. But then, something shifted. When you imitated Professor Sprout tripping over a Mandrake root, you caught it—the faintest twitch of his lips. At first, you thought you had imagined it, but then it happened again. His lips curved up into a small smile, and for a brief moment, Ni-ki’s usually composed face broke into something entirely different.

You froze mid-sentence, staring at him in shock. Ni-ki—quiet, serious, and often unreadable—was smiling. Not just a polite smile, but a genuine one, and you could see a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed your stunned expression.

“I… I didn’t know you could smile,” you blurted out, completely forgetting your earlier train of thought.

Ni-ki’s smile widened, and then, to your utter disbelief, a soft chuckle escaped him. It was quiet and brief, but it was there—a real laugh. And suddenly, the cold, distant image you had of him cracked just a little more, revealing something warmer, something softer beneath the surface.

He quickly composed himself, the smile fading but not disappearing entirely. “I’m not a statue,” he said dryly, though there was a playful glimmer in his eyes that you had never seen before.

“I mean, I guess I just assumed…” you trailed off, still processing the fact that you had just witnessed Ni-ki laugh.

And then, with a small smile still playing at the corners of his lips, Ni-ki returned to his work, leaving you to sit there.

But one of the most memorable moments between you happened during a study session where, for once, things were going smoothly. You were both focused on your work when a random thought popped into your head, and without thinking, you said it aloud.

“Do you think Professor McGonagall’s animagus form ever accidentally knocks things off tables like a real cat?”

Ni-ki looked up at you, clearly confused. “What?”

You laughed, suddenly realizing how ridiculous the thought sounded. “I mean, she’s a cat, right? What if she just can’t help herself and bats things off desks?”

For a moment, Ni-ki just stared at you, and you thought he was going to tell you off for not focusing. But then, to your utter shock, he started laughing—a real, genuine laugh. It wasn’t loud, but it was pure, and the sound of it made your heart skip a beat.

“Why would you even think of that?” he asked, still chuckling.

You shrugged, grinning. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head.”

Ni-ki shook his head, still smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

But there was no malice in his words, only a warmth that hadn’t been there before. And in that moment, you realized just how much closer the two of you had become. And seeing him laugh—really laugh—was something you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

----------------------------------------

It was a quiet afternoon when it happened. You had just finished another study session in the library with Ni-ki. He had helped you with a particularly difficult problem, and though he was his usual quiet self, you had left feeling a sense of warmth—like things between you were truly starting to shift. Maybe Ni-ki didn’t always show it in public, but you were sure he valued your time together, even if it was mostly in the library.

However, as you made your way through the corridors, feeling content from the productive session, a group of girls—Ni-ki’s admirers, if you were honest—blocked your path. Their expressions weren’t friendly, and you could tell right away that something was off.

Before you could say anything, they pushed you into an empty classroom, closing the door behind you. The leader of the group, a girl you recognized as one of Ni-ki’s more obsessive followers, crossed her arms, sneering.

“So,” she began, voice dripping with disdain, “you think you're special, huh? Just because you spend time with Ni-ki in the library?”

You froze, your heart pounding. You didn’t know what to say, so you just stared at them, trying to keep calm.

“Do you actually believe he cares about you?” another one chimed in. “He’s just too polite to tell you to leave him alone.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but the leader cut you off. “Oh, please. He pities you. You should hear the things people say. They’re always wondering why he wastes his time on someone like you.”

Her words hit hard, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “That’s not true. He helps me because he—”

“Because he what?” she interrupted with a cruel laugh. “Because he likes you? Don’t be stupid. He only tolerates you. He never talks to you outside the library, does he?”

That made you pause. It was true—Ni-ki never approached you in the halls, never spoke to you outside of your library sessions. He barely acknowledged you in class unless it was absolutely necessary. Even when you saw him with his friends, he acted as if you didn’t exist.

They could see the doubt in your eyes, and the girl smirked, sensing victory. “See? You know it’s true. If he really liked you, why would he act like you don’t exist when you’re not sitting across from him in the library?”

You stayed silent, unable to find an answer. The doubts they were planting in your mind started to grow roots, wrapping around your thoughts and pulling you into a spiral of overthinking.

“He probably thinks you’re a burden,” one of the girls said with a mocking laugh. “I mean, why else would he avoid you in front of his friends? He doesn’t want them to see him hanging out with someone like you.”

The words stung, each one cutting deeper than the last. You tried to fight back, tried to tell yourself that Ni-ki’s quiet nature didn’t mean he didn’t care, but their accusations fed into your worst fears. What if you really were just a burden to him? What if he did pity you, and that’s why he never spoke to you outside of your study sessions?

You kept quiet, and they could see they had hit their mark.

“Face it,” the leader said, stepping closer with a satisfied smirk. “Ni-ki feels sorry for you. You’re nothing to him.”

You bit your lip, holding back the sting of tears. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but the words had already wormed their way into your head. Why did he only talk to you in the library? Why didn’t he ever approach you outside of that space? You thought you had gotten closer to him, but maybe you had been wrong all along.

They left you there in the empty classroom, their mocking laughter echoing in the halls as they disappeared. You stood frozen in place, your thoughts swirling with doubt and confusion, questioning everything you thought you knew about Ni-ki and your growing connection with him.

That one question kept repeating in your mind: Why didn’t he talk to you outside of the library?

After that confrontation in the empty classroom, you couldn’t shake the words that had been thrown at you. The girls' taunts, the doubts they had planted in your mind—they echoed endlessly, gnawing at your thoughts and twisting everything you thought you knew about your relationship with Ni-ki. Every time you walked through the halls, you felt a strange weight on your chest.

You began to pull away, slowly at first. It started with cutting your library sessions shorter. Where once you might have lingered for hours, speaking to Ni-ki about anything and everything, now you found yourself packing up your things earlier, offering hurried excuses about homework or other commitments. Ni-ki would glance at you but never say much, and his silence only added to your doubts. It was almost like he didn’t notice your growing distance, or maybe, you thought bitterly, he didn’t care enough to ask.

The distance grew wider as the days passed. You started skipping your library sessions altogether, avoiding the places you knew Ni-ki would be. The once-familiar space where the two of you had shared quiet moments now felt like a weight, a place filled with uncertainty and confusion. You didn’t know what to make of your feelings, or of Ni-ki’s. Were you really just a burden to him? Did he pity you, as they had said?

It hurt too much to face him, so you stopped trying.

In the hallways, you could feel his gaze on you. Even if you weren’t looking, you knew when Ni-ki was nearby. It was as if some invisible thread still tied the two of you together, but now it felt frayed and fragile, a connection you didn’t know how to mend. You passed by him in the corridors, your head down, avoiding his eyes at all costs. In the Great Hall, you chose seats far away from where he and his Slytherin friends sat. But somehow, it didn’t matter. You could feel his eyes on you from across the room, his gaze following your every move, and each time, it sent a wave of guilt crashing over you.

You never looked back at him, though. You couldn’t.

You skipped classes you shared with him. It started with one or two missed lectures, but eventually, it became a pattern. Without him, you struggled, barely scraping by with borrowed notes from friends. They weren’t as clear or detailed as Ni-ki’s notes, but they would have to do. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him for help again.

Despite all your attempts to avoid him, Ni-ki’s presence lingered everywhere. You didn’t know if it was your mind playing tricks on you, or if he really was watching you more closely now. Whatever it was, you felt more conflicted than ever. You wondered if he noticed your absence, if he cared, but then that gnawing insecurity crept back in, reminding you of what those girls had said. He’s just too polite to tell you to leave him alone.

The more you thought about it, the more you withdrew. Doubts clouded every memory of your time with Ni-ki, twisting your perception of everything he’d done for you—the notes, the help with your studies, the quiet moments you’d shared. What if it had all been one-sided? What if you had been nothing more than a project, a pity case?

And so, you kept your distance, avoiding the boy whose piercing gaze you could no longer bear to meet, and wondering if maybe, in the end, they had been right all along.

-----------------------------------------

You had been so lost in your thoughts, your mind circling around the same questions, the same doubts, that you didn’t even realize where your feet were taking you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you noticed the dim, cold lighting of the dungeons, the walls lined with stone, and the distant murmur of voices. You froze, recognizing how close you were to the Slytherin dorms.

Instinctively, you were about to turn and head back the way you came when the sound of laughter caught your attention. It was light, warm, and carefree—a sound that felt almost foreign in this part of the castle. Curious, despite yourself, you peeked around the corner.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Standing there, casually leaning against the wall, was Ni-ki. His head was tilted slightly back, his face scrunched up in genuine amusement, his white teeth flashing in a wide grin. He was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the edges, his normally stoic expression completely replaced by something so light and happy that it shocked you. You had never seen him like this before. His laugh, his smile. It made him seem younger, softer, almost…adorable. For a moment, you were completely transfixed, unable to tear your gaze away from him.

But then, your eyes flickered to the people surrounding him. His friends—other Slytherins you recognized—were standing nearby, laughing along with him. Among them, you spotted a few of the girls who had cornered you in the empty classroom, their cruel words still echoing in your mind. The sight of them, standing so close to Ni-ki, chatting and laughing as if everything was normal, sent a jolt of discomfort through you.

And then, before you could react, one of Ni-ki’s friends noticed you. His expression shifted slightly as he leaned in to whisper something in Ni-ki’s ear.

Ni-ki turned.

Your heart dropped.

His gaze locked onto yours from across the hallway, his laughter fading instantly. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, a gasp escaping your lips as you quickly turned on your heel and speed-walked down the hallway, trying to put as much distance between yourself and that scene as possible.

Your heart was pounding, your thoughts racing. He was laughing with them. With those girls… The image of his bright smile, so carefree, so natural, was seared into your mind, but it was tainted now by the memory of the people surrounding him—the people who had made you doubt everything.

Had he heard what they said? Did he know?

You didn’t wait to find out. All you knew was that you needed to get as far away from the dungeons, and from Ni-ki, as quickly as possible.

You didn’t exactly know how you ended up in the library, but here you were, tucked away in a quiet, hidden corner that no one ever really bothered with. It was your place, somewhere you used to come to study, or more recently, to avoid. The shelves towered above you, enclosing you in their safe, comforting silence, but it did little to ease the heavy weight in your chest.

Wiping away the stray tears that had already started to fall, you slid down to the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest. Your bag dropped beside you with a soft thud, the books spilling out carelessly, but you didn’t bother to pick them up. It felt like too much effort, like you couldn’t muster the energy to do anything but curl in on yourself.

Tears fell freely now, and you buried your face in your arms, trying to muffle the soft sobs that escaped. Everything had just… built up. The confusion, the distance, the hurt from what Ni-ki’s admirers had said, and now seeing him so happy without you. You had tried to tell yourself that it didn’t matter, that he was just a library acquaintance, but the truth was that it did matter. More than you wanted to admit.

The quiet of the library felt like it was pressing down on you, suffocating in its stillness, yet at the same time, it was the only place where you could let go like this. Where no one would see you, no one would ask questions, and no one would tell you that you were being silly for feeling this way.

You cried softly, the hurt you’d been bottling up for so long finally breaking free. The words of those girls echoed in your mind, their sneering voices telling you that Ni-ki pitied you, that he didn’t care, that you were nothing to him. The worst part was that you had started to believe it.

The image of Ni-ki laughing with his friends flashed before your eyes again, and it only deepened the ache in your chest. He seemed so happy, so… distant. And you? You were nothing but a fading presence, something he could ignore outside of your shared library sessions. You had convinced yourself that maybe you had become friends, maybe there was something more, but now, it all felt like a lie.

The sobs came harder now, your chest tightening painfully as you curled further into yourself. You didn’t want to care this much. You didn’t want to feel this way. But here you were, hiding in the shadows of the library, crying over someone you weren’t even sure cared about you at all.

The quiet shuffling beside you broke through your tears, making you look up from your curled position. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Ni-ki standing right there, holding your bag in his hand, his face full of worry. His usually composed expression was soft, eyebrows knitted together as he searched your face.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

You sniffled, quickly wiping your nose with the back of your sleeve and nodding, though your heart wasn’t in the gesture. You looked away, half-expecting him to leave like always, to walk away and give you space. But instead, you heard him set his bag down. You glanced at him, shocked, as he sat beside you on the floor.

Ni-ki leaned back against the shelves, closing his eyes for a moment before sighing deeply. "I know you’ve been avoiding me," he said, his voice softer than usual, yet it held a vulnerability you weren’t used to hearing from him. He opened his eyes, looking directly at you, and asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

You sat up, startled by his question. "What? No, no, of course you didn’t!" you answered quickly, panic rising in your chest.

He tilted his head slightly, clearly unconvinced. "Then why…" His words trailed off as he sighed again. He looked at you, his expression filled with something close to concern. "Please… tell me. I’m worried about you," he admitted, his voice quiet.

His words made your heart clench. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it made it harder to stay quiet. You gulped, trying to steady yourself. This was the moment you had been dreading. You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to say the words that had been haunting you since that confrontation. But seeing him here, sitting beside you, waiting for an explanation—it was enough to make you break.

"I…" You began, your voice shaky. "It’s not you, Ni-ki, really. You didn’t do anything wrong." You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. "Some girls… they confronted me, said that you pitied me. That you thought I was a burden… and it got in my head. They asked why you never talk to me outside the library, and… I started wondering if they were right."

Ni-ki’s expression shifted immediately, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What? Why would they say that?"

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. "They said I was stupid for even thinking we were friends… that I didn’t matter to you outside of studying."

There was a long pause, the silence hanging heavily between you. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, too afraid of what you might see in his eyes. But then, after what felt like an eternity, Ni-ki’s voice broke the silence.

"That’s not true," he said quietly, his tone firm but gentle. "You’re not a burden. I don’t pity you."

You slowly looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his gaze. His usual calm exterior was gone, replaced by something raw, something real.

"I didn’t know you felt like that," Ni-ki continued, his voice soft. "I… I just didn’t think you’d want to hang out with me outside the library. I didn’t think I was someone you’d want to be around like that."

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "What? But… you’re always surrounded by people. Why would you think that?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, people, not friends. Most of them just see me as Ni-ki, the Slytherin prefect or whatever. I don’t… I don’t let people in easily. But you…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "I guess I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed your company until you started avoiding me."

His words made your heart race, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth amidst all the confusion and hurt.

"I’m sorry," you whispered. "I didn’t mean to make assumptions or push you away. I just… I didn’t know what to think."

Ni-ki shook his head, his gaze softening. "It’s okay. I should’ve been more clear with you." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I want you to know… I don’t just think of you as someone I study with. I…" He trailed off again, his cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. He looked vulnerable, in a way you had never seen before.

"I care about you," he finally said, the words slow and deliberate, as if he had been holding onto them for a long time. "More than you think."

Your breath caught in your throat at his admission. For a moment, you just sat there, staring at him, unsure of how to respond. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you—it made your chest tighten in a way that was both overwhelming and comforting.

"I…" you started, your voice faltering. You didn’t know what to say, how to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

But you didn’t have to say anything, because in that moment, Ni-ki smiled at you—genuinely smiled, the corners of his lips turning up, his eyes softening. It was a small, almost shy smile, but it was enough to make you realize that everything you had been overthinking, all the doubts and insecurities, had been for nothing.

Ni-ki cared. He had always cared.

Ni-ki stayed by your side, his presence steady and comforting as you finally let the weight of everything spill out. You told him about the girls, your voice shaky at first, but as you continued, you felt lighter, as though every word lifted a little bit of the burden off your chest. His expression shifted the moment you named them, his brows drawing together in a way you’d never seen before—serious, almost dangerous.

For a moment, you worried that he might storm off, that his calm demeanor would crack and he’d go after them. But instead, he simply listened, his face tight with restrained anger, and when you finished, he surprised you once again.

He opened his arms.

Without a second thought, you slid into his embrace, feeling his warmth surround you, his arms wrapping securely around your back. His chin rested lightly on top of your head, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you smiled—a real, genuine smile.

"They were wrong," he murmured softly, his voice vibrating through his chest. "You mean so much more to me than they could ever understand."

You felt your heart swell at his words, the knot in your stomach slowly unraveling. He didn’t hate you. He never had.

When you finally pulled back from the hug, your gaze met his, and the intensity of his eyes made your breath hitch. His face was still close, his cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he paused, swallowing nervously.

"I…" he began, his voice a little shaky. "I need to tell you something." His eyes darted away for a moment before finding yours again, determination setting in. "I’ve been… thinking about this for a while, and I just—" He sighed, clearly flustered. "I don’t know how to say it."

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden vulnerability. Ni-ki, the calm, collected boy who never seemed to let anything rattle him, was stuttering and blushing, his usual composure unraveling before your eyes.

"I-I like you," he blurted out, his face now fully red. "A lot. I have for a while, but I didn’t know how to say it. I’m not good at this stuff, and I didn’t want to make things weird between us, but when you started avoiding me, I—"

He was rambling now, his words spilling out in a rush, and you could tell he was struggling to keep up with his own thoughts. It was so unlike him, seeing him this vulnerable, this unsure. It was endearing.

Before he could continue, you acted on impulse, reaching up to gently cup his face and pulling him toward you. His eyes widened in surprise just before your lips met his.

For a split second, you could feel his shock, his body freezing beneath your touch. But then, just as quickly, he melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to cup the sides of your face, pulling you closer. His lips were soft, hesitant at first, but then the kiss deepened, his movements growing more sure, more confident. He held you like you were something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of.

The world seemed to disappear around you, the weight of everything that had been bothering you fading away in the warmth of his embrace. It was just you and Ni-ki, the soft press of his lips against yours, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than either of you realized.

When you finally pulled back, your heart was racing, your face warm from the intensity of the moment. Ni-ki stared at you, his lips slightly parted, still processing what had just happened.

"I… uh…" He blinked, his usual calm demeanor shattered, and it made you smile.

"That was your way of saying you like me too, huh?" he asked with a sheepish grin, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek.

You laughed softly, nodding. "Yeah… I like you too, Ni-ki."

His smile widened, this time filled with a mixture of relief and happiness. "I’m glad," he said softly, his voice warm and full of sincerity.

For a moment, you both just sat there, basking in the newfound closeness, the tension that had been between you for weeks dissolving into something sweet, something real.

"Let’s forget about those girls," he murmured after a while, his forehead resting gently against yours. "They don’t know what they’re talking about. All that matters is you and me, okay?"

You nodded, your heart full. "Okay."

#enhypen fic #enhypen #enhypen niki #niki x reader #ni ki x reader #nishimura riki #enhypen riki #fanfiction #riki x reader #niki fluff #niki imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines

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sexy-monster-fucker · 1 month ago

Text

Santa, Baby

Santa!Art the Clown x F!Reader SMUT

Summary: There’s a Christmas Party at the club the reader works at. After bumping into a strange man in the streets, she spreads the word of the party.

cw: isn’t art his own warning??, choking, fingering, mentions of blood, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, mentions of kidnapping, biting, violence, p in v, hair pulling, scratching, blood play, overstimulation, creampie,

a/n: imma be real with yall, if you can’t handle watching the Terrifier movies don’t read fanfiction about Art bc tagging all this stuff in the warning was CRAZY lmao

~~~

It was the Saturday before Christmas.

Some people were out shopping, other’s having festive dinner with their loved ones. And then there was you. Getting dressed up in a slutty, red Santa-dress. It sat high upon your thighs, if you even attempted to bend over your matching red lacy underwear would be on full display.

Hoping the outfit would get you better tips. Maybe even a cute guy for you to play around with. Twirling Round in the mirror before leaving your house.

The weather was nice, so you opted to walk. You did not live that far away from work, sometimes the car was easier. But you could not lie that the thought of you turning heads on the street sent a thrill through you.

As you walked down the street, you bumped into a pale man wearing a Santa outfit. Knocking his black trash bag out of his grasp. White wig, red hat and jumpsuit, and big black shoes. Noticing his crooked nose and clown-like face paint. Rather peculiar for this time of year. Almost a mix of Halloween and Christmas.

His mouth formed an ‘O’ when your eyes met. Brows quickly furrowing down at you.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” you quickly apologized. Leaning down to pick up the bag for him. Your breasts peaking through the top of your tight dress. His eyes found themselves looking down your dress. Unable to deny his mind wandering to a perverted place. Not usually the type to feel this type of thing for people. Only desire he had being to kill and be covered in their blood. But something about you made a different part of him crave you.

“I like your costume,” you complimented, “There’s this Christmas Party down at the club if you’re interested.” You dug in your purse for one of the flyers. Giving it to him. Silently examining the pamphlet, his brows raised as he nodded. You both awkwardly stood on the sidewalk. Creepy smile never leaving the clown’s face. You continued to smile back at him, eyes looking around. “Silent type? How mysterious, I like it,” you tapped your fingers against his chest, “Hopefully I’ll see you there tonight, I’ve gotta get going. Bye!” You waved him off as you walked past him. His stiff body following you until he was facing the same direction. Eyes never leaving you. Peering at how your hips swayed and ass bounced in the dress.

What was wrong with him?

You headed down to the street the club was on. Waving at the bouncer, unable to stop himself from eye-fucking you in that dress. Booping him on the nose as you entered.

The club was decorated in all Christmas lights. A handful of fake trees placed along the floor. Everyone dressed up as different holiday characters. Elves, Snowmen, Reindeer, the whole nine yards. You were greeted by your happy coworkers as you took your place behind the bar. Preparing for the night of heavy drinkers ahead. Unable to get that clown out of your mind.

The Club was booming. Extremely loud Christmas remixes, people singing along and grinding together filled the scene. Strobing lights decorated the walls as the big projected screen behind the DJ showed clips of old Christmas movies without sound. It was difficult to hear your customers like this, good thing you could read lips.

There was finally a dry spell at the bar. Giving you time to stretch your neck and legs. Rolling your shoulders as you softly bobbed your head to the music. Taking a drink of water from your bottle. Almost every seat at the bar was taken. People hitting on each other, drinking away their sorrows, and some groups filled the seats. When a familiar face sat on your side of the bar. Loud garbage bag clanged against the floor. Causing you to jump out of your skin. Eyes peered over to the source.

White and Black face paint. It was the guy from the street. Your expression beamed at him. “Hey! You came by,” you reached a hand out to him in excitement. Wide smile painted across his face as he nodded at you. Still as silent as ever.

“I’m so glad you decided to come by. Still looking good in that Santa outfit I see,” you flirted. He snickered as he tucked his face into his shoulder, pretending that your words were embarrassing him. Hands coming up to wave off your compliment. Gesturing to your body, silently complimenting you.

You walked around the bar, hands tip-toeing up his arm, “Think you’re looking for a Mrs. Claus?”

The Clown tilted his head to the side. Eyes scanning your entire body, resting on your breasts with a devious smile. Looking up at you through his lashes, nodding slowly. You smiled at him.

“Can you cover me?” You called out to your coworker behind the bar. She gave a thumbs up as she poured a shot for a customer. You smiled giddily at him. His brows raising as he returned the look. He stood from his seat, towering over you. He was so tall. Long fingers wrapped around your wrist as he dragged you down a dark hallway. Garbage bag occasionally scraping the wall. He led you around as if he knew the place. Familiar with the proper hiding spots. Arousal pooled deep in your bones. Where his hand held your wrist ignited throughout your body.

He stopped in front of a dingy door to an abandoned bathroom. Opening it and allowing you in first. It was dark in the old bathroom. You never used this one, reserved for occasional hookups and doing lines for your coworkers. The mysterious clown flicked on the dimly yellow bulb. Pointing excitedly towards the old stained mirror. The words “Art Was Here” was written in some type of red. Assuming it was some lipstick.

“Is that your name?”

Art nodded happily. Jumping up and down and clapping. You leaned against the cold brick wall. Arms folded over your chest as you stared at him. Examining his tall figure. His loosely fitting Santa costume leaving most of him up to your imagination. Except for those hands. Long, strong fingers. Barely peaking out of the fingerless gloves he wore.

His expression dropped suddenly. Brows falling in a straight line over his eyes. Mouth sealed with a hint of a frown. You felt your heartbeat speed up. A small amount of fear taking over at his sudden mood change. His head tilted slightly, eyes tracing your body. Your eyes darted around the dark room unsure of what his next move was. Was he going to fuck you? Kill you? Maybe nothing at all.

Before you could open your mouth he lunged at you. Thick fingers wrapped around your throat. Strong grasp around your windpipe. Pulling every bit of air out of you. Your eyes widened at him. A smirk of mischief painting the corner of his mouth. Leaning forward as if he was going to kiss you, turning into a long stripe licked up your face. Shoulders bounced with silent laughter. Fingers tightening around your jugular. You could feel yourself struggling to breathe. Vision growing slightly blurry with each passing minute. Art’s fingers traced down your body, squeezing your breasts along the way. Hooked up under your dress. Raising his eyebrows in surprise when he felt your lacy panties soaking wet. Wagging his finger at you, partially shaming you for your arousal.

You gasped for air that you did not receive. Feeling woozy. Art’s finger going back down to your aching core, circling your clit with two fingers. A broken moan escaped your throat. Dark eyes stared at your face. Watching how it contorted when he would hit the spot you liked. Feeling his cock growing with the pathetic noises you made.

Just as you felt yourself about to faint, Art removed his hand from your neck. Your own hand replaced his as you began heaving for air. Sliding slightly down the wall, firmer against his fingers. He puckered his lip out mocking the tears that stained the corners of your eyes. Your moans were far louder now. Being able to fully express yourself and the harder feeling of his fingers. His dark eyes watched how your chest bounced with each moan you let out.

Art slipped his middle finger under your panties, sliding it into your soaked folds. Causing your body to buckle forward against him. Grabbing his shoulder for support as your legs grew shaky and weak. Emotionless eyes met yours. Face still and unmoving as you pleaded up at him with your doe eyes. Curling his finger while the others continue circling your clit. His name fell from you in a cry as you felt that familiar tightening in your lower abdomen.

He knew his way around the human body, that was for sure. Knowing all the right places to inflict pain or pleasure. Usually he enjoyed seeing the way people would desperately run from him, crying out in pain when he would strike them down. Loving the way blood and guts warmed up his hands. But here he was, keeping you in tact while still feeling your insides. Adoring the way your sensitive insides clamped around his finger. How your body begged for him to please it. Walls pulling him deeper into you. Still getting that same pleasure as he watched you cry out and cling to him. The way tears stained under your eyes and fingers dug into his skin pooling inside him. Feeling his own arousal begin growing in his oversized pants.

You began thrusting up and down on his fingers. Widening his eyes as he watched you chase your high with his fingers. Opting to slide another into you, curling and scraping against your insides. Grazing that spongey spot that sent electricity through you. Curiosity painted his expression now. With one final curl of fingers, you came undone around him. Walls fluttering and sucking in his fingers. Arousal leaking down his digits as he continued pumping into you. Your entire body began shaking as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, having to hold them both to stabilize yourself. Your face curled into the crook of his neck. Skin smelling of sweat and iron.

Art pushed you against the wall. Standing stiffly in front of you as you panted. Face red with post orgasm glow. Feeling your walls clamp around nothing now. Craving something more. A closed mouth smile morphed into a wicked grin, baring his stained teeth. Examining his fingers that had been inside you. Pulling them apart while they were still connected by your arousal, a slimey rope connecting them. Taking his fingers into his mouth, sucking the taste of you off them. Eyes rolling into the back of his head. Sucking them off with a pop.

Unable to deny that that did something for you. Your chest was tight as you looked his body up and down. Landing on the faint tent pitched in his pants.

The tall clown fell to his knees in front of you. Crawling over and throwing the front of your dress up. Staring at your ruined panties. Soaked lace sticking to your lips. His hand rubbed up your leg, with a tug of brute force ripping your panties off in one go. Cold air hitting your heated mound. He suddenly licked up into your pussy. Tongue dancing down the slit, lapping at the remainder of you. He took one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

Art ate you out like it was going to be his last meal. Sloppily, his tongue spread your folds while his hands held tightly into your thighs. His crooked nose bumping against your throbbing clit. Still overstimulated from your first orgasm. Knowing it would not take long for him to take you there again at this rate.

“Art, I’m going to cum again,” your voice was shaken.

He nodded aggressively, refusing to remove from your opening. He had found a new favorite taste. Unable to get enough of you. If he could, he would bottle your taste up and take it home with him. Or maybe even take you away with him. Lock you up in his warehouse so he could taste you whenever he wanted. He knew you would taste especially good when your period would come around. His two favorite flavors combined.

You began grinding down onto his face. Pushing his nose against your clit over and over. Chasing your secondary high, unsure how many more he would have you endure. Not really caring. If they all felt this good you would let him have you however he wanted. Unwinding on his face. Art pressed his tongue between your folds wanting to feel them contort against his it. You slid down the wall loosing yourself. Art held you up like it was no problem. A strange strength coming from him. Your eyes squinted shut momentarily trying to catch your breath.

Art continued licking until you subsided. Standing, his face covered in your juices. Oddly none of his makeup smudged. You had to find out where he bought his foundation. Hooded eyes gazed down at you. You looked so pathetic sliding into the floor in front of him. Tits rising as you panted. He pictured how your lungs looked expanding in your chest. Desire to rip you open filling his thoughts. Fading when he felt his cock throbbing.

Long digits reached out to help you to your feet. Releasing you and letting you tumble back, head hitting the cold brick. You winced when it started to ache. Silently he laughed and pointed at you. Miming you hitting your head. You scowled up at him. He definitely enjoyed your pain. Something you were too overstimulated to care about. He rolled his eyes at you when you did not laugh along with him, reaching his hand out again. Swirling his finger in a circle gesturing for you to try again.

Art pulled you flush against his chest. Stronger than anyone else you had ever been in contact with. Acting as if you weighed nothing. You fluttered your lashes up at him. Mouth hung open as you continued taking deep breaths in. Abruptly he turned you around, forcing you against the sink. Staring at him through the mirror. Watching how his hands massaged and stroked your torso in the reflection. His nose traveled from your shoulder up to your neck. Tongue coming out to lick at your throat. Pulling skin between his teeth as he sucked a deep purple bruise there. You moaned for him, loving the attention he gave to your skin. His hands gripped your chest, pulling your breasts out of your top. Cold fingertips pinched at your hardening bulbs. His eyes fixated on your chest in the mirror. Tongue traveling further up your neck until it ended behind your ear.

He was entranced by your body. Not ever taking the time to see how things changed when someone was sexually aroused. Being all too familiar with how the body acted with pure terror. Your fastening heart rate thumped against his hands. Feeling your pulse against his lips had his desires in overdrive. He could have devoured you right there. Smeared your blood all over the walls of this shit-hole bathroom. Fucked your bloodied mouth while you fought within an inch of your life to survive.

But that would not satisfy him.

Sure, your flesh ripped between his teeth would be nice. But hearing all the pathetic cries and moans you made for him was even better. The way you would whine his name was like music to his ears.

Art reached down, freeing his length from the confides of his red pants. He was swollen and leaking pre-cum. Pushing your back forward forcing you to bend over the sink. Holding yourself up with your hands as you held eye contact in the mirror. He kicked your legs apart further, making sure he could get into you. Grabbing his cock by the base and swirling it around your slick. Coating himself with you, testing the waters of how far he was willing to go. You were so warm and welcoming. He could always leave you out to dry. Just play around and never fuck you. But he needed his own release. And the way you whined his name when he dipped a little deeper his mind was made up.

Art slammed himself into you. Hands gripping your skirt upon your lower back. Watching the way your ass bounced against his cock. Wickedly grinning at the sight of him penetrating you. Tongue coming out to glaze his rotten teeth. Sound of your skin smacking mixed with your screaming moans was like music to his ears. He was relentless. Length hitting deep inside you. One of his hands tangled in your hair, arching your neck back to force you to watch in the mirror.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you called to him like a prayer each time he would sheath inside you. His long shaft stretched your entrance perfectly. You scrunched your face up and rolled your eyes back as he continued pounding into you. Mouth forming an ‘O’. Your insides spasmed around his cock as it filled you up. Art’s brows twitched with pleasure. His toothy grin was unwieldy.

His other hand gripped your ass. Nails breaking the skin as he clawed at your soft flesh. Loving how your crimson red painted your cheek. Collecting the blood on his finger tips and pressing them against your aching nub once again. Circling the sensitivity. Breath hitched in your throat as he leaned further into his grasp on your hair. Closing your eyes and screaming loudly for him. Feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly.

Art’s pace was brutal. Snapping his hips up into you. With each circle of fingers and flick of hips, you were seeing stars. Almost too drunk on cock to form sentences. Never imagining when you got dressed today your night would go like this. Lost in ecstasy of pleasure. Coil winding tighter and tighter in your stomach.

Fingers taking you to a place of pure hormonal bliss. Insides quaking and pulling him deeper. Art’s mouth shaped into an ‘O’ realizing you were cumming around his cock. Nodding with satisfaction as his dark eyes pierced into yours. Watching how drool fell out of your mouth and sweat rolled down your body.

Art pulled his fingers up, seeing the crimson red was now a softer pink. Shoving the combination of you into his mouth. Licking between his fingers like something from a porno. His shoulders relaxed as he continued fucking into you. Your entire body was shaking. Legs wobbled like they would give out on you any second.

His wet fingers rubbed at your chest. Tracing up and curling between your lips. Forcing their way into your mouth. Taking them like he wanted. He released his grip on your hair, planting the hand against your hip instead. Pinning you with his hips. Clearing chasing his own high now. Continuing to watch as he pumped his fingers into your mouth. Loving the sound of you gagging and slobbering. Feeling himself twitch inside you. His breathing picking up as he focused where he punctured you.

Watching how perfectly you sucked him in. Wanting to cum all inside you. Wanted you so filled with him you could barely walk. Knowing it would make you crave him forever. Addicted to the feeling of his seed inside you.

Hips pressed flush against yours. Shooting his white hot inside you. Coating your walls with his cum. Holding still so he could feel you milk him. He rolled his neck and leaned his head back, never having felt something this good. His chest pounded as he begged for air. Deep breaths filling his desperate lungs.

You slumped against the sink. Quivering arms and legs fighting to hold you up. Resting your head on your arms. Your cunt having been worked to its limit.

Art stood up straighter behind you. Flattening his suit down with his hands. Smiling at you in the mirror as he tucked his member back away. Waving his fingers at you.

You were unsure who this man was, but you never wanted to be apart from him.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! This is only my second time writing for Art, but I sure do love writing him. Expressing his mannerisms is so fun. If you have any requests for him, please send them my way! I look forward to future Fics! //

{tags}

@l0sercat ~ @tedi28 ~ @hyperfixated-clown ~ @papispam ~ @melaninatedhorrorqueen ~ @lcvsanaa ~ @dilfismz ~ @knoepfl ~ @tuttifuckinfruttifriday ~ @spookysquids

#art the clown #art the clown x reader #terrifier #terrifer 3 #david howard thornton #David Howard Thornton x reader #writing #fanfic #sexymonsterfics #christmas #Santa

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aquadios · 1 month ago

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drunk in love | pair yang jungwon x fem genre best friends to lovers fluff drunk au wc est. 07-08k aquadios says : first post for the new acc YAY

a sigh escapes your lips for the umpteenth time as you drum your fingers against the steering wheel of your cold car. you’ve been sitting in the parking lot of a busy restaurant waiting for your best friend to appear, given the frantic texts from his friends saying he was too drunk to function.

finally, his figure emerges from the restaurant, stumbling on his feet as his friends try to keep him up straight. you frowned—jungwon wasn’t one to indulge himself in drinks—definitely not when his friends were heavy drinkers themselves.

“oh, jungwon,” you shake your head while keeping your eyes on the blonde. he was smiling and giggling about something, but his gaze was trained in on your car and as he got closer, he found himself walking faster.

although you had expected him to be more intoxicated, he found his way around your car and towards the window of the drivers side.

“you came for me,” jungwon leans in once you roll the window all the way down. “been here for an hour actually.” you smile softly.

jungwon tilts his head, his newly dyed hair falls to the side and he smells like whiskey. to you, your best friend was undeniably beautiful—everyone knew that—but if felt wrong for you to think those things.

jungwon was a friend to you, always has been; however, recently, your heart has been telling your brain something else. mixed signals seemed to be the only feelings you could conjure up about yang jungwon. he was a confusing boy and those confusing actions were reflecting the light you saw him in.

the once beige colors you’ve seen him in began to morph into explosions of red and blue and pink and any other color you could think of. he was turning your life into a splattered painting.

and it’s terrifying.

“ah, i’m sorry baby. you should’ve came in, i would’ve brought you a drink.” he leans his exhausted head against your car while closing his eyes.

you’re grateful he chose to close his eyes the second the heat from your nervous stomach ran up to your cheeks. “i need to drive you home jungwon, i’m not drinking.” you whisper, only because you’re afraid how hard your voice would give out.

“do you need help getting in the car? i can ask the guys, or i can help you myself—”

your words are cut short when jungwon’s hand weaves behind your head and jerks you forward, dangerously close to his own. your nose is brushing against his and you could smell the faint scent of his natural musk that isn’t overpowered by the alcohol.

“i was thinking about you while i was here,” his fingers that were entangled in your hair began to move you closer.

“i was thinking about how much i’ve wanted to kiss you,” if jungwon wasn’t holding onto your head, it would’ve blown off.

your chest heaved up and down as you try to find the words to say to him but nothing was coming out. your mind was going haywire as your heart was beating uncontrollably to the point it hurt.

he continued, “there’s been so many moments where i just wanted to kiss you but i was too scared i’d ruin everything,” he sighs and his intoxicated breath almost has you under the same spell.

“you wouldn’t ruin anything.” your voice is still a quiet whisper. “i can only do this when i’m drunk.” he knows he’s a coward for doing this when he wasn’t sober.

jungwon shakes his head before leaning into your lips. he tastes like bitter peaches and years of pining as he uses his other hand to cup your jaw.

if it hadn’t been for the door separating you two, jungwon would’ve pulled you insanely close to him until your hearts matched the miles they were racing.

when he pulls away, he leaves even more kisses against your lips like the alcohol wasn’t merely as intoxicating.

jungwon smiles and you reciprocate his with an even wider grin. “you finally did it!” heeseung yanks jungwon out of the window, shaking his entire body by his shoulders.

the boys gather around whilst yelling drunken hoots and praises as if he had just won a noble prize (to jungwon you’re worth more)

though, in the middle of the chaos, jungwon turns to you, his eyes showcase a string of emotions he’s never felt before and you’ve never seen. he’s sure it isn’t the alcohol streaming through his veins or the hugs he’s receiving, it’s you.

what’s better than being drunk? being in love.

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signanothername · 30 days ago

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I feel like with the way your nightmare is built, he would never touch anything like alcohol, smokes, weed, anything of that kind. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he'd just die lmao

(and with the way that a lot of people depict dust to like smoking if that happened nightmare would walk by and start coughing his soul out)

Old man got sensitive lungs /j

But yep, he simply would not touch any substances like that, but I would say it’s actually the former, he doesn’t wanna touch them with a ten foot pole

Not only are they a hazard in his eyes, but he sees no point in using such substances, he even criticizes Murder for it

I’d say Murder is the only one of the gang that uses substances at all, he’s addicted to drugs, smoking and is an alcoholic, alcohol being the most commonly consumed substance by Murder, all started as a coping mechanism for the shit he goes through

Murder is a heavy drinker but is also high tolerance, meaning he doesn’t get drunk too easily, and his personality generally stays intact even when drunk, maybe with a sprinkle of angry outbursts when he’s bothered by someone, but that’s pretty much it

#anothers ask #murder sans #dust sans #nightmare sans

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abxtchbetired · 6 months ago

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seven deadly sins headcanons

because i'm tired of sinday memes being all about sex. send a category + a number. warning: some of the questions in the lust section are nsft. that's why it's at the bottom.

gluttony - - -

what could your muse eat all the time without ever getting tired of it?

a feast of all your muse's favorite foods is laid out in front of them. what's on the menu?

is your muse the type to leave the last bit of food for someone else, or to take it for themselves before someone else can claim it?

does your muse frequently overeat?

does your muse go back for seconds? thirds? fourths?

how many meals and snacks does your muse eat in a day?

what are your muse's go-to beverages?

does your muse drink enough water?

does your muse drink many sugary drinks, like soda or juice?

is your muse a heavy (alcohol) drinker? if so, what do they drink? in what situations do they drink? do they know their limits? do they stop at their limit, or go past it?

is your muse addicted to caffeine? if so, what is their preferred caffeinated beverage?

does your muse have a sweet tooth?

greed - - -

what does your muse collect, if anything?

is your muse prone to hoarding anything?

what is your muse's financial situation? what are their financial goals?

is money important to your muse? why or why not?

how much money does your muse keep in their checking account at any given time? if your muse keeps cash, how much do they usually have in their wallet? does your muse carry coins around? what is the limit on their credit card, if they have one? do they have multiple credit cards?

does your muse have good savings habits? how much do they currently have saved up?

is your muse prone to shopping sprees? if so, what do they usually indulge in buying?

is your muse in debt? if so, are they managing it well, or are they struggling?

would your muse throw others under the bus/step on others if it meant they could find more success/make more money?

would your muse steal anything?

wrath - - -

does your muse like to get revenge on those they feel have wronged them?

how does your muse handle anger? do they have anger issues? how do they manage or vent their anger?

does your muse believe in karma?

did your muse get into fights as a kid? do they get into fights as an adult? if your muse never got into fights before, would they in the name of self defense?

what, if anything, provokes your muse to violence?

does your muse believe that violence can solve some problems? or are they more a "violence is never the answer" type? somewhere in-between?

does your muse destroy things for fun, or to let off steam?

was your muse a bully? or were they bullied themselves?

has your muse ever considered murdering someone? or have they actually gone through with murdering someone?

does your muse enjoy hurting others, whether it be physically or emotionally?

pride - - -

does your muse believe they are the best at everything, even if that belief is unwarranted?

in what areas might your muse be a little overconfident? are they overconfident in the sense that they don't have the skills to back it up, or in the sense that they do have the skills but they are obnoxious in their confidence?

does your muse accept responsibility for their actions when they have done something wrong?

is your muse comfortable with apologizing to others?

does your muse feel remorse? if so, how do they express it?

has your muse every blown off preparing for something because they were confident they could complete the task without preparation? if so, what was the situation?

is your muse prone to bragging? what do they brag about?

does your muse look down on others they perceive as being "not as good" at things as they are?

sloth - - -

on what day(s) does your muse feel most lazy? at a specific time of day, or all day?

is your muse prone to procrastination?

what chores/responsibilities does your muse avoid doing at all costs?

how many hours of sleep does your muse get? do they feel rested after, or are they still tired?

once your muse gets started doing something important, do they drag their feet, take many breaks, and ultimately prolong the task? or do they work as quickly as possible, at the sacrifice of a quality job? or do they work efficiently without sacrificing quality?

does your muse put on real clothes every day, or only if they have to go out?

if your muse could get away with wearing pajamas all day every day, would they?

does your muse complain about responsibilities a lot?

is your muse the type to get up on time on their own or with an alarm? are they the type to hit snooze over and over?

envy - - -

does your muse get jealous easily, or does it take a lot for them to feel it?

what kinds of things does your muse get jealous about?

does your muse compare themselves to others often? if so, how does it affect them?

lust - - -

is your muse sexually active? if so, how often do they have sex? how many partners do they typically have at one time? if not, why not?

what is your muse's sexuality? if asexual, are they sex favorable, sex indifferent, or sex repulsed?

is your muse vanilla, or are they kinky? if kinky, what are their top three kinks, and why do they like them? if vanilla, what position(s) does your muse have sex in?

what sex-related words turn your muse on? what words make them cringe?

does your muse masturbate? if so, how often, and how do they get themselves off? if not, why not?

does your muse have high, medium, or low libido?

is sex compatibility a dealbreaker for your muse in a relationship? why or why not?

how does your muse feel about one-night-stands?

what was your muse's first time having sex like? who was it with, why did they choose that person, where did it take place, how old were they, and what happened?

#sinday meme #rp meme #headcanon meme #lore meme

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candypot · 3 months ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢: nsfw headcanons

notes: guys, tell me if you prefer me to write a gender neutral reader next time

Drunk sex is probably a thing that happens often if you’re also found of alcohol, we cannot ignore the fact that this man is a heavy drinker. Considering that you guys have a close relationship, he won’t see any problems inviting you to drink in his place after a particular hard day (he’ll cook some delicious appetizers for the both of you too)

Seriously, there’s nothing more trilling than that dizzy feeling after some beers and the fact that you’re there so needy and ready for him. Those sloppy neck kisses and wet sounds filling the room make it so hard for him to keep it on his pants (but he won’t do it if you’re super drunk because it’s disgusting and disrespectful, so he makes sure you drink just the regular amount for you to keep in control of your own consciousnesses)

If you’re not into alcoholic stuff he will probably avoid drinking when he’s next to you, Nanami understand that the way alcohol smells and it’s collateral effects can be pretty unpleasant so he just make sure to don’t do it when he’s spending his time you.

Loves to be slow and steady while fucking you, the feeling of you begging and clenching around him while he moves his thumb in circles around your clit drives him insane.

If you ask him, he’ll be rough with you and might even like it better than the normal pace. How could he not get addicted to the sensation of your hair wrapped around his hand while while he tug it real good for you to whimper his name?

There’s no way back once he gets used to it, but chill, he’s gonna prepare you so good that you may get addicted to it even more than him.

Likes to keep your intimacy private so don’t expect to hear him answering Gojo’s uncivilized questions about his night activities with you. This also goes for your unexpected needy messages on the middle of the day, specifically if there’s revealing photos of you on it.

Feels secretly excited when you whisper dirty things on his ear. How can he not go crazy when you tell him you’re drenching wet for him? How can he keep it together when your hands rub over his pants so fiercely? It’s throbbing and you gonna have to find a way to solve it immediately so he doesn’t make a fool of himself.

He has a kink for office sex, but he won’t talk about it unless you point out how quickly he comes when he fucks you right after work. That work smell mixed with perfume and sweat was honestly so arousing. Seeing you hold his tie with your mouth so you don’t moan louder was a wonderful way to relax after such a draining week. Nanami will be delighted to rip your pantyhose every single time, but don’t worry! He’ll buy you new ones to compensate you about it.

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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saetoru · 2 years ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MAD — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. alcohols consumption (drunk! al-haitham), post argument, fluff, ft. kaveh a real one for dragging home a heavy ass muscle man

al-haitham is good at holding his alcohol—at least, he is unless you’re in the middle of an argument. if you’re both arguing, then he seems much less likely to stay sober.

tonight for example—you open your bedroom door when kaveh (not so quietly) awakens you with his incessant knocking, grumbling under your breath as you reach for the door knob and twist. before you can even fully open the door, a very drunk and very heavy al-haitham is handed to you to hold steady.

“here, he’s your headache now,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “i was supposed to be the heavy drinker of tonight,” he glares at al-haitham (who doesn’t help himself any further when he glares right back), “my day was far more stressful.”

“what draft are you on with this client?” you ask sympathetically.

kaveh flares his nostrils as he grumbles, “six!”

“maybe seven will be the charm,” you hum, chuckling, “i’ll get this headache of mine to bed.”

“please do,” he nods, “and i wish a terrible hangover on him in the morning too.”

with that, the door is shut, and you hear kaveh walk off and slam his as he grumbles some more about the drunk mess in your arms. at least you and kaveh have that much in common tonight—a shared irritation for the akademiya’s ever so charming scribe.

(truthfully, it’s hardly an accurate description at the moment—al-haitham’s charms are currently little to none after earlier.)

“you’re not doing yourself favors,” you turn your attention to you boyfriend, who stumbles a little as he buries his head into your neck. it’s a tad bit adorable—but then you remember the know-it-all attitude from earlier and decide you’re mad again. “disrupting my sleep for your lightweight habits isn’t a good way to apologize.”

“not a lightweight,” he slurs—and then he pulls away and pouts, “still mad?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“very.”

“‘s not nice,” he huffs, burying his face back into your neck.

you can feel the way his lips are curled into a pout as they kiss your neck, and even though you’d like to say you have better self control, you can’t help but wrap your arms around him. it’s just to keep him from falling, you reason—just because you’re mad at him doesn’t mean you want him to potentially fall and break something, and that would only mean taking care of him more, which you do not need right now.

“you know what else wasn’t nice? telling me i’m wrong when i’m right,” you huff, “and then arguing that i’m wrong even though you know i’m right.”

“said i was sorry,” he almost whines—drunk al-haitham has at least a few perks. one of them is how much more affectionate he is, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your cheek. “you’re soft,” he hums, “love you.”

“you smell like beer. go to bed,” you grunt, trying (and failing) to pull away and guide him to the bed. you don’t make it two steps before he’s latched back to your body.

“say it back,” he gasps, “say it.”

“al-haitham,” you groan, “you can’t be serious—”

“haitham,” he corrects, “supposed to call me haitham.”

“would you like to sleep on the couch, haitham?” you ask with a dry smile on your face, eyes narrowed as he shakes his head. he tucks it into the crook of your neck, sighing happily as he inhales your scent.

“no, ‘s not good f’my back.”

“your back is the least of your concerns right now,” you mumble bitterly. “okay, let’s get you undressed.”

“you’re not mad?” he brightens up immediately at your words, taking them entirely out of context. his lips lean in to press against yours as his hands snake under your shirt, making you huff and slap his hands away as you turn your head and force his lips to meet your cheek.

“oh, i’m still very mad. don’t even think you’re getting anything tonight,” you scold.

for the nth time tonight, he pouts. and truthfully, you’re only human at the end of the day. if the akademiya’s usually stoic and composed scribe—who happens to be your equally as stoic and composed boyfriend—seems to pout this many times in one night….well, it would make anyone’s resolve crumble. even someone who’s angry after an argument—someone much like you.

“you’re a lot cuter when you’re drunk, you know that?” you giggle, poking his cheek lightly. he hums, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your skin as he leans more weight into you.

“aren’t i always cute?”

“not when you’re stubborn.”

“‘m cute,” he argues, “y’think ‘m cute, right?”

“no,” you grin, just to tease him. it’s a bit fun—pulling those wide eyes and curled lips from him, pulling that slightly crestfallen look that only a drunk al-haitham would let you witness.

it’s not too mean to let yourself indulge in this just once, is it?

“don’t be rude,” he slurs, “love you. say it back?”

“say please,” you tease, chuckling as your fingers thread through his hair.

he seems to brighten when you offer him a bit of affection, leaning into your touch as he sighs happily. “please,” he says politely, pressing a kiss to your skin before adding, “‘m sorry,” for good measure.

“how sorry?”

you plan on dragging this out for as long as you can—is it morally correct to take advantage of your drunk boyfriend? perhaps not….but no one is perfect, and you’re no exception.

“really sorry,” he mumbles, squeezing your hips.

“sorry enough to do the dishes for the week?”

“mhm,” he nods.

“kaveh’s too,” you add, with a satisfied grin on your face.

he nods, mumbling a quiet, “okay. kaveh’s too,” without question.

“how much do you love me?”

“a lot,” he says slowly, and by now, he’s leaning enough weight in you that you can tell he’ll fall asleep any moment. so you chuckle, pulling him along slowly before letting his body hit the mattress.

“this is my side of the bed,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes, but he doesn’t seem to hear you as he closes his eyes and sighs when your hand cups his cheek and rubs the warm, flushed skin. “do you love me more than you love being right?”

“mhm,” he hums, half awake as his eyes droop, “say it back now.”

“i love you too,” you finally crack, leaning in and kissing his lips briefly, “even if you’re rude and impossible.”

“‘m still cute,” he rebuttals, “right?”

“oh yes,” you giggle, “the cutest.”

“good,” he nods. and then his eyes close, and he’s snoring lightly, cheek still pressed against your hand.

you’re supposed to be mad, maybe even give him the silent treatment for a bit—but then you watch him sleep peacefully, the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips when your fingers thread through the sweaty locks of hair. regretfully, you can’t stay mad, not when it’s al-haitham—and especially not when it’s drunk al-haitham.

“you’re such a headache,” you mumble, kissing his forehead before joining him on the bed and tucking into his side.

and when he wakes up in the morning, with what is hopefully the awful hangover kaveh wished upon him, you’ll make sure to remind him of his agreement to do the dishes. kaveh’s too.

if u try to tell me al-haitham isn’t a clingy and affectionate drunk, ur wrong. he’s so babie after he drinks

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader

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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

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The Night We Fell

SUMMARY: After a night out with friends, you find yourself a little too tipsy and in need of a ride home. When Phoenix calls Bradley to pick you up, what starts as a simple favor turns into an unforgettable evening. Amidst drunken giggles, lingering glances, and unspoken emotions, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur.

WARNINGS: Some alcohol use and being drunk. But other than that this is pure fluff.

WORD COUNT: 4k

TAG LIST: @missmarveledsblog @shanimallina87 @fore45fore @cardi-bre91

The night had gotten away from you faster than you anticipated. What started as a casual drink with the other aviators turned into a full-blown party at The Hard Deck, complete with a few too many shots of tequila. You weren’t much of a drinker, and the alcohol had hit you harder than you’d expected.

By the time you’d stumbled out of the bar and collapsed into a chair on the deck, the world around you had become a blurry haze of laughter and music. Your friends tried to convince you to head home, but you stubbornly shook your head, giggling at how heavy your limbs felt.

When Phoenix—Natasha—suggested calling an Uber, you waved her off, muttering something about needing fresh air.

“You’re not going to make it home like this,” Natasha sighed, her tone patient but firm. “We need to get you out of here.”

As much as you wanted to argue, you knew she was right. The bar was starting to spin around you, and the thought of walking felt like an impossible task. Your shy, reserved nature wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and now you were the center of it, your teammates gathered around trying to help.

“No… no Uber,” you slurred, shaking your head as if that would solve the problem.

Natasha exchanged a look with Bob and Payback, all of them clearly unsure of what to do. That’s when Natasha had an idea.

“I’ll call Rooster.”

Your heart skipped at the mention of his name. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, your closest friend since you’d both met during your first stint at Top Gun.

He hadn’t come out tonight, opting for a quiet evening at home, but now he was about to be dragged into the chaos you’d created. A part of you was mortified, but another part—a quiet, secret part—was relieved. Bradley always made you feel safe, even in moments like these.

A short while later, Bradley’s familiar Bronco pulled up outside the bar, and you heard his deep voice before you saw him.

“Alright, where is she?” he asked, concern lacing his words. He stepped into view, scanning the small crowd until his eyes landed on you slumped in the chair, your face flushed from the alcohol.

“There you are,” he said softly, crouching down in front of you. “Let’s get you home.”

You blinked up at him, your mind fuzzy but recognizing the warmth in his voice, the safety that always seemed to follow him. Bradley’s hand slid under your arm, helping you up carefully as he guided you toward his Bronco.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” you mumbled, leaning heavily against him.

“You’re not trouble,” Bradley replied, his voice low and reassuring. “Come on, let's get you home.”

Bradley had just helped you to your feet when you suddenly pulled away from him, a mischievous grin on your face. The alcohol had blurred your sense of reasoning, and all you could think about was the sound of the ocean nearby, calling to you like some irresistible force.

“I’m going to the beach!” you declared, your voice louder than you intended as you stumbled in that direction.

Before Bradley could react, you slipped out of his grasp and made a run for it—well, as much as a run as your unsteady legs would allow.

Bradley sighed, watching you attempt your escape. He glanced back at Natasha, who stood with her arms crossed, an amused but knowing smile on her face.

“Now you know why we called you,” she said with a smirk.

Bradley chuckled, shaking his head as he set off after you. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

It didn’t take him long to catch up. The soft sand slowed your pace, and by the time Bradley reached you, you were giggling to yourself, your feet sinking into the cool beach beneath you. He walked up beside you, a teasing glint in his eye as he tried to reason with you.

“Come on, we’re going home,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’ve had enough fun for one night.”

But you weren’t having it. With a pout, you shook your head, your hair falling messily around your face. “Nooo, I don’t wanna go yet. The beach is so nice.”

Bradley sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried a different approach. “I’ll take you to the beach another time, I promise. But right now, I need to take you home and you need to sleep it off.”

You looked up at him, blinking like you were seriously contemplating his offer, but the alcohol still had too strong a hold on you. Instead of agreeing, you turned and tried to take another unsteady step toward the water.

That’s when Bradley decided enough was enough.

Before you could protest, he scooped you up into his arms, one arm under your knees, the other behind your back, lifting you effortlessly off the sand. You let out a surprised yelp, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Bradley!” you squealed, squirming a little, though not enough to actually get free.

He grinned down at you, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “You left me no choice,” he said with a chuckle, adjusting his grip on you. “You’re way too stubborn when you’re drunk.”

You pouted, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you. The warmth of Bradley’s arms and the playful tone in his voice made you feel strangely content, despite your half-hearted protests.

As he carried you back toward the parking lot, the others watched with barely concealed laughter, Natasha shaking her head at the sight.

“Thanks, Bradshaw,” she called after him, clearly relieved they didn’t have to wrangle you themselves.

“Anytime,” he called back with a wink, continuing toward his Bronco with you securely in his arms.

Bradley drove you back to his place, the familiar roads passing by in a blur as you leaned your head against the window, humming some tune to yourself. He kept glancing over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. You were different like this—unfiltered, carefree—and he couldn’t help but be charmed by it.

When he finally pulled into the driveway, you groaned dramatically, throwing your head back against the seat.

“What’s wrong now?” Bradley asked, trying to suppress his laughter as he watched you.

“My legs,” you whined, drawing out the words, “they suddenly don’t work. Guess you’ll have to carry me again.”

Bradley raised an eyebrow, but he couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his face. “Oh, really? That’s a shame,” he teased, already moving to get out of the truck. “Guess I’ll just have to take care of you, huh?”

Before you could respond, he was at your door, opening it with a flourish and reaching down to scoop you up just like he had at the beach. You giggled as he lifted you, your arms finding their way around his neck once more, your face pressed against his chest.

“You’re so strong,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “How do you do that?”

Bradley laughed softly as he carried you inside, the warmth of your body against his making his heart beat a little faster. “It’s all the push-ups,” he joked, kicking the door shut behind him.

Inside, the low light of his living room cast soft shadows across the space, but you barely noticed. As soon as he set you down on the couch, you flopped back with a dramatic sigh, your arms splayed out to the sides.

Bradley laughed as he looked down at you, shaking his head with that signature grin. “You’re going to be a lot of work, aren’t you?”

You just grinned up at him, your head lolling back against the cushions. “Probably.”

He crouched down in front of you. “Alright, let’s get you out of these bar clothes and into something more comfortable,” he said, giving your outfit a once-over. “Stay here.”

Bradley disappeared down the hall and returned a few moments later with a soft t-shirt and a pair of his shorts. He set them on the couch beside you. “Here you go. This should do for tonight.”

You blinked at the clothes, a lopsided smile forming on your face. “You’re giving me your clothes?” you asked, your voice high with surprise.

Bradley just shrugged casually, though the way he glanced at you made your heart flutter. “Yeah, well, you can’t sleep in those,” he nodded toward your jeans and top. “Go ahead and change. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

You stood, wobbling slightly on your feet as you started to peel off your top. But when it came to your jeans, they were another story. You tugged at the waistband, trying to shimmy out of them, but in your drunken state, your legs didn’t quite cooperate. One misstep later, you tripped over yourself, landing on the floor with your jeans half down, a soft “oof” escaping your lips.

Before you could even try to untangle yourself, Bradley was suddenly at the door, peeking in with a look of concern. “You okay in here?”

You froze, staring up at him from the floor, your face flushing as you realized the position you were in. “Uh, I—” you stammered, trying to pull the jeans down the rest of the way but getting more tangled in the process. “I think I… need some help.”

Bradley hesitated for only a second before walking over to you, kneeling beside you with a soft laugh. “Hold on,” he said gently, his hands moving to your waistband. “Let me get these off for you.”

His touch was warm but careful, and his eyes stayed focused on your jeans as he slid them down your legs. He made sure to avoid anything that might make you uncomfortable, keeping his movements slow and respectful. Once they were off, he glanced up at you, noticing the shy look on your face. You were suddenly quiet, your playful demeanor fading as a wave of embarrassment hit you.

“Hey,” Bradley’s voice was soft, reassuring as he met your eyes. “It’s okay. I’m not going to do anything. I just want to help you get comfortable, alright?”

You nodded, still feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I know… I just—sorry. This is kinda embarrassing.”

Bradley shook his head, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. “No need to apologize. It’s not weird, I promise,” he said, his tone full of warmth. “You look cute in your flustered state, anyway.”

That comment earned him a shy giggle from you, and he stood, handing you the t-shirt he’d brought. “Here, finish getting dressed. I’ll turn around.”

True to his word, Bradley turned his back to you, giving you the privacy to slip into his shirt and shorts. The fabric was soft, smelling faintly of him, and it hung loosely on your frame, but it felt comfortable in a way that made you feel safe.

Once you were dressed, you cleared your throat softly. “Okay, I’m good.”

Bradley turned back around, his eyes soft as they flickered over your new look. A slow smile spread across his face.

“I’m soooo tired,” you groaned as you suddenly flopped back onto his couch, though the playful gleam in your eyes betrayed you. “But I’m also kinda hungry. Do you have snacks?”

Bradley shook his head, unable to suppress his smile as he watched you sprawl out, so completely at ease in his space. It was a side of you he hadn’t seen before—this unguarded, silly version of you. Normally, you were a bit more reserved, shy even, especially around him. But now, with the alcohol loosening your inhibitions, you were like a completely different person, and Bradley couldn’t deny how much he liked it.

“Snacks, huh?” he asked, moving into the kitchen. “I might have something you’ll want.”

You perked up instantly, your eyes following him as he rummaged through his cupboards. “Ooh, what do you have? Chips? Cookies? I’ll take anything, really.”

He came back with a bag of chips and a box of cookies, setting them down on the coffee table with a flourish. You gasped dramatically, your eyes wide as you grabbed the bag of chips, shaking it like it was some grand prize.

“You’re amazing, Bradley,” you said with exaggerated sincerity, ripping open the bag and shoving a handful into your mouth.

Bradley chuckled as he sat down next to you, watching as you munched happily, your legs curled up underneath you. He couldn’t stop staring. The way you laughed, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief—it was like seeing you in a whole new light. You were always beautiful to him, but this side of you? This carefree, uninhibited side? It was something else entirely.

You caught him staring and tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “What’re you looking at, Bradshaw?”

He smiled softly, leaning back against the couch. “You just look so good when you wear my shirt,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

Your cheeks flushed, and for a moment, the playful banter between you stilled as the weight of his words settled in the air. You looked down at the oversized shirt you were wearing—the one that still smelled like him—and suddenly, the world felt just a little bit smaller, the space between you and Bradley charged with something unspoken.

“I—I can take if off if it bothers you,” you mumbled, suddenly shy again. The bold, carefree version of you flickered for a second as you averted your eyes.

Bradley chuckled, scooting closer to you on the couch, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “Bothers me? Not even a little. Honestly, I kind of love it.”

You glanced up at him, your heart fluttering at the soft smile on his lips, the way his eyes lingered on you like you were the only thing that mattered in the room And as you looked into his eyes, you could feel that shift between you, that quiet understanding that whatever this was, it was about to change.

But before you could say anything, the alcohol caught up to you again, and a fit of giggles escaped your lips as you reached for the cookies, breaking the tension in the air.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest at the way he looked at you.

Bradley just smiled, his hand resting on your knee a little longer than necessary. “Maybe,” he said softly, “but I think I’m in good company.”

Bradley leaned against the arm of the couch, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night,” he said, his voice low and calm, not wanting to disturb the peaceful quiet that had settled in the room.

You blinked up at him, lazily pushing yourself into a sitting position. “Hmm, I guess you’re right,” you murmured, still tipsy but slowly sobering. You gave him a teasing smile. “Maybe I’ll just go home.”

You turned and started heading towards the front door. Bradley let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, no. That’s not happening,” he said firmly, crossing the room in a couple of long strides, his arm wrapping around your waist to stop you from going any further.

His eyes softened as he looked at you. “So… do you want to crash on the couch? Or… you could take my bed?”

You felt your face flush at the thought of sleeping in Bradley’s bed. The sudden rush of nerves had you avoiding his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Sharing a bed with him—or with anyone—felt so personal, so intimate. And it wasn’t something you’d ever really done before. “Um…” You bit your lip, eyes darting up to meet his, then quickly away. “I don’t know…”

Bradley, noticing your sudden change in demeanor, tilted his head slightly, concern flickering across his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, leaning forward a little to get a better look at you. “You’ve gone quiet on me.”

You swallowed, feeling your heart race a little. It wasn’t something you ever talked about, especially with a guy. But the warmth in Bradley’s eyes, the safe feeling that always surrounded you when he was near, made it easier to admit your nervousness. “It’s just… I’ve never really…” You trailed off, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his shorts, feeling suddenly shy and vulnerable.

Bradley waited patiently, his gaze never leaving you. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your knee. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

Taking a deep breath, you let the words tumble out before you could second-guess yourself. “I’ve never… slept with a guy before,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. “I mean, not like… sex,” you added quickly, flustered. “Just… you know, sharing a bed. Falling asleep next to someone.”

Bradley blinked, a momentary look of confusion crossing his face before he processed what you’d said. His brows furrowed, but not in judgment—just surprise. “Wait, really?” He asked softly, tilting his head as he studied you. “What about… I mean, your ex-boyfriends? You never…?”

You shook your head, feeling the embarrassment heat your cheeks. “Nope,” you muttered, rubbing your hand over your face as if trying to hide. “I always… I don’t know, kicked them out or left before we actually slept. I just… I’ve never felt comfortable enough, I guess.”

Bradley’s expression softened even more. There was no judgment in his eyes, only understanding. “Wow,” he said, his voice gentle. “I didn’t know that. But hey, that’s totally okay.”

You risked glancing up at him, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief at his easygoing reaction. “It’s stupid, right?” you mumbled, feeling silly for even bringing it up. “I’m just… I don’t know, I get really shy about stuff like that.”

Bradley shook his head, reaching over to gently take your hand in his. “It’s not stupid,” he said firmly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “If you’ve never felt comfortable enough to stay the night with someone, that’s fine. You don’t have to explain it.”

Your eyes softened at his words, the knot of nerves in your stomach slowly unwinding. His understanding felt like a weight lifted off your chest. “Thanks,” you said quietly, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But… I think… I want to, if it’s with you.”

Bradley’s eyes flickered with surprise, then something warmer—something softer—as he met your gaze. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and careful, not wanting to push you if you weren’t ready.

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “Yeah,” you whispered, offering a small smile. “I trust you, Bradley. I know you wouldn’t make it weird.”

Bradley’s lips curved into a slow smile, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said softly.

Your heart fluttered as you nodded again, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “Okay.”

He stood up, offering his hand to help you off the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “Let’s get some sleep. You can have the bed, and I’ll stay until your asleep and then I’ll—”

You tugged his hand slightly, cutting him off with a small, shy smile. “No,” you said quietly, your voice just above a whisper. “I want to share it. With you.”

Bradley looked down at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were certain. Then, with a soft nod, he led you down the hall, his hand never leaving yours.

As you and Bradley made your way to his bedroom, the air between you was warm and comfortable, even with the slight awkwardness of your earlier confession. His hand stayed in yours, steady and reassuring as he led you into the dimly lit room. The bed was neatly made, its navy-blue sheets crisp and inviting. Bradley let go of your hand as you approached the edge, both of you standing there for a moment.

“So,” Bradley started, glancing at the bed, then back at you with a small smile, “which side do you want?”

You blinked, surprised he was even asking. “Uh… whichever side you don’t want?” you said, a shy giggle escaping your lips.

He chuckled and nodded, walking around to the right side of the bed and pulling back the covers. You mimicked his movement, lifting the blanket on your side before climbing into the bed. The mattress was firm beneath you, the sheets cool and soft against your skin. Bradley slid in beside you, lying back with a content sigh as he settled into the pillows.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks again as you tugged the blanket up to your chin, suddenly feeling self-conscious being this close to him. But the warmth of his presence beside you, so familiar and comforting, was enough to make you relax. For a moment, you lay in silence, the gentle sound of Bradley breathing beside you filling the room.

Bradley shifted slightly, turning on his side to face you. “You good?” he asked, his voice soft in the dark.

You turned your head to look at him, nodding. “Yeah,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m good.”

But as the quiet settled in, your playful, tipsy side started to peek out again. The combination of being cozy in his bed and the lingering effects of the alcohol made your inhibitions lower, and before you knew it, you giggled softly.

Bradley raised an eyebrow, amused. “What’s so funny?”

You turned on your side to face him, biting your lip as you tried to stifle another giggle. “I was just thinking…” you started, your voice trailing off as your laughter bubbled up again.

He smiled at your amusement, a curious glint in his eyes. “Thinking what?”

You wiggled a little closer to him, your face still flushed with giggles as you blurted, “Can we cuddle?”

Bradley’s eyes widened for a second, clearly taken off guard, but the grin that spread across his face was unmistakable. “Cuddle, huh?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

You nodded, biting your lip again. “Yeah,” you said softly, the playfulness in your voice contrasting with the bashfulness you felt creeping in. “I mean, if you want to…”

Bradley let out a soft laugh and shook his head fondly. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, shifting slightly closer to you. “Come here.”

With that, he wrapped an arm around your waist, gently pulling you toward him until your head rested against his chest. His body was warm and solid against yours, his arm resting comfortably around you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You snuggled into him, your cheek pressed against his shirt, and sighed contentedly.

“You’re really good at this,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his chest.

Bradley chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. “I try,” he murmured. “Feeling better?”

You nodded, your body relaxing completely into his. “Much better,” you whispered, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as the warmth of his embrace wrapped around you like a blanket. The playful giggles had faded, replaced by a calm, peaceful feeling as you nestled against him, your fingers resting lightly against his chest.

Bradley’s hand gently stroked your back, his voice a quiet rumble. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “Just sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

With those words, the last of your nerves melted away, and you drifted off, feeling safe and warm in Bradley’s arms.

#Top Gun Rooster #Top Gun Rooster Fanfiction #Top Gun Rooster Fanfic #Top Gun Rooster Fic #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw Fanfiction #Bradley Bradshaw Fanfic #Bradley Bradshaw Fic #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #Top Gun Rooster x reader

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devosin · 27 days ago

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— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : keeping up with Y/n L/n . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Y/n pov . .

Your fingers glided through the screen—which was on its lowest brightness setting—skimming through the terms and conditions of your contract, noting anything that stood out, before you threw the phone aside back on the nightstand and fell back down on your bed, pulling the comforter on yourself, as you try and relax your otherwise restless brain.

Tired shallow breaths leave your chest, your eyebags felt heavy, almost weighing you down—and the light peeking from your curtains almost caused a headache—there was this feeling that grew in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t quite label, a mix between both nausea and the dreadful feeling of doom, and after effect of an intense hangover, that didn’t seem to go away even if you drowned it in water and pills.

You hated it, you hated how being drunk leads you to do impulsive shit, and you hated the aftereffects making you so wary of your decisions, which only resulted in you sowing every decision you make.

Everytime you drink, you end up regretting it, and promising yourself that you won't ever again—it’s not that you're a heavy drinker—You just don’t trust yourself, you never have, but the alcohol really does wonders in bringing those feelings of deep-rooted insecurity up to the surface.

It’s really not your fault, it was an after party for the cast and crew in celebration of your series finalé—You didn’t do well under pressure, and when everyone around you was pushing you to take another hit and another shot . . and well saying no would have ruined the mood—You don’t regret going on your phone, and you most definitely didn’t regret emailing a response back for the hosting offer—You would’ve accepted anyways, the alcohol just gave you the push you didn’t have before.

It still triggers your anxiety, because you’re jumping into something headfirst with nothing prepared, you haven’t done that in ages.

You sigh, getting up from your bed, you’re clearly not going to get any sleep with this much stress, it would be best if you get some air, to calm down . . .

You were still in your pajamas, a large winter coat and hat covering most of your features (in order to avoid paparazzi), as you made your way through the streets, your hands buried in your pockets, forming fists as you looked through your surroundings. It was early november, barely any snow to be found yet it was colder than any winter you’ve ever experienced in the city.

It’s been four years since you moved out to the outskirts of Pyroxene, you used to live in the capital, before your acting career even started. You even attended University there, not much going on with your degree anymore though. A lot of your friends still live there, and sometimes you miss the bustling streets, the noisy cafe’s, the ability to meet up with your friends as often as you’d like, or the feeling of home—However, if there’s one thing you don’t miss, it’s the fucking traffic.

The traffic there was hell. You still have a small private condo in the capital under your name, considering a lot of your filming jobs take place there, and it seemed like a better investment than renting a hotel room every time, and hotels generally trigger your germaphobia . . —Plus it’s a lot cheaper just renting, and convenient for last minute things also hotels in the capital are fucking expensive—and everytime you film having to drive back and fourth made you want to take a knife to your throat, but that’s not a hotel exclusive problem.

You snapped out of your thoughts, when you heard a car horn, realizing you had walked straight into traffic.

‘Shit.’, you ran across the street as fast as you could, and for a moment you started believing in God again, because that was a close one.

Y/n and Navia beef because I looped "Girls so confusing" remix a lil too much and I wanted to have a friendship rebound in this because I clearly ain't getting one irl. (ew trauma dumping? in front of my yogurt/j)

I decided to double post and publish both pov's (praise me frfr/j), so you can get a grip on how things might flow?! Also creating relationships of side characters and dynamics as we move along, I want ya'll to really know these characters.

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)

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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

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them accidentally ditching you on your bday - vu

hhu, vu, pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, etc.

part 2

wc: 4537

a/n: thank u to the people who requested this <3 so sorry its so longshdkks pls lmk if u want a pt. 2 with a resolution. not proofread btw </3

masterlist

jeonghan -

jeonghan wasn't a big drinker by any means. sure, he enjoyed the occasional drink with his friends, but it wasnt much of a habit. being a member of seventeen, however, it was quite often that he found himself around alcohol. quite a few of his members enjoyed sharing drinks with one another whenever their schedules allowed. jeonghan, being jeonghan, would always join them, enjoying nothing more than to be around the company of his most loved ones. unfortunately, during these instances he was also away from you, seeing as drinks with his friends tended to be right after work, just before he arrived home to you. this would cause him to make his way into your arms later than usual on the days his friends dragged him away to a pub. you didn't usually mind this, only occasionally pouting at him when he'd come home a bit later than usual without texting you about it beforehand.

today was one of the many days in which jeonghan had found himself at a discreet pub in seoul, accompanied by none other than mingyu, seokmin, chan, seungcheol and joshua, who were all pretty heavy drinkers whenever the mood struck them. jeonghan had prior plans today; it was your birthday tomorrow, so he knew he needed to get home at a timely hour in order to allow you to fall asleep in his arms as your birthday celebrations began. those plans were, however, slightly interrupted by the insistence of a choi seungcheol who adored jeonghan's company and insisted he tag along, even if only for a little while. jeonghan didn't see any harm in this, knowing he didn't have much of a tendency of getting drunk at these gatherings. he could easily make an appearance for one or two hours before excusing himself to go find refuge in your arms.

except that did not happen.

jeonghan wasn't sure how events had turned this way. he had lost most of his sense of self five shots in (what the hell was mingyu feeding him?). he began to go in and out of consciousness, still being aware of his surroundings, but not having many more thoughts past that. the one thing that did manage to slip his mind, however, was his plan to go home to you before the clock struck 12, as it was now 1 in the am. he had fully disregarded his phone too, too distracted with his friends to notice the vibrations on the table.

he woke up the next morning at about 12pm, insane headache and in familiar surroundings. it was joshua's house, he was pretty sure. and he wasn't alone. seungcheol and the rest were also located in different areas of the living room which jeonghan had awoken in. how did he even get here, he wondered. must've called a cab last night. but wait, his phone was out of battery last time he checked it. must've been one of the boys then.

none of these things mattered to jeonghan right now, so he simply got up and charged his phone, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water as he made conversation with joshua, who was the only other member awake at the moment. as soon as his phone charged, jeonghan headed over to grab it, immediately noticing a total tally of 19 notifications, all from you. had something happened? you didn't tend to message him so much. he immediately worried, hurrying to open the messages.

turned out he was right, something had happened.

it clicked almost immediately, with the tone of your texts expressing varying emotions as time progressed, and the date above the messages confirming his suspicions; it was your birthday today, and jeonghan was hung over at his best friend's house. he had no idea how he'd been so irresponsible. he knew he'd be a bit later than usual, but he was so sure he'd still make it home to you before midnight. but that had clearly been wrong. jeonghan dreaded it, but he decided to call you, to at least assess if your mood was as sour as the messages showed.

you picked up within three rings, immediately voicing your concerns at him.

"jeonghan? are you okay? you didnt come home last night," okay, you were worried about him! that was a good sign, right?

"i- angel, i'm so sorry. i'm okay. time got away from me and i ended up blacked out at shua's. shit, i'm so sorry, angel. i'll-"

"were you just drinking the whole time?", you paused, sighing before continuing, "you couldn't even message me or anything? you ditched me today of all days to get black out drunk with your friends? are you serious?", you paused again, not giving him enough time to respond, "you made me spend my birthday worried you didn't make it home. with no communication. jesus christ, jeonghan ..."

"angel. fuck. i'm so fucking sorry. i'll come home right now. it's still your birthday! let me make it up to you, yeah? i'll do whatever you want, just-"

"you know what, han? ... just stay there. we can do this some other day. i'm not really in the mood right now. i'll call you later today, okay? love you."

"wait, angel, no. just let me-"

he wasnt able to complete his sentence, as he was met with a beeping sound, informing him the line was disconnected. he stood there dumbfounded at what had just happened, not knowing how to react.

"man, you're fucked," chuckled joshua, who had heard the whole conversation.

yeah, he had fucked up big time.

joshua -

today was a terrible day. well, no. it was an amazing day actually. it was your birthday. it shouldve been an amazing day. except due to uncontrollable circumstances, your boyfriend joshua had to be away from you for the entirety of the week. there was an award show going on overseas, in which your boyfriend and the rest of seventeen had to be in attendance.

he had planned a beautiful day for you, really. he had wanted to spend the whole day with you, tending to your every need. he was going to wake you up with breakfast - prepared by himself, of course. then he would take you out to a secluded restaurant to ensure privacy. he had even planned to give you a serenade (he knew you would just call him corny, but could be be blamed for being in love?). he had communicated all this to you as he lamented his sudden absence to you a week before the day of his departure. you had accepted it, being touched by the mere thought. he'd promised you he would still be with you on your special day. although the award show was that same day, he promised to come back to the hotel as soon as time would allow and provide you with his company even if it was only through the phone.

and now it was that time. seeing as he was in japan and you in his home back in korea, there was no timezone to worry about. you'd simply have to wait at home for him to return and give you a call. it was now 6pm. it was understandable he would still be busy. you knew he had packed rehearsals all morning, so his only chance to call you would be later in the night. he had still sent you a few messages congratulating you on your big day and reminding you to be ready for him at around 8pm.

it was now 8:33pm. you had expected him to be a bit late, so you didn't mind it. the award show had been live, and it had ended at around 7:30. however, you knew it would likely take him a while to get ready and to get back to the hotel. so you waited patiently, knowing your boyfriend to always stand by his word.

it was at 9:33 that you began to worry. you had already sent him a few texts, not wanting to bother him in case something was going on. you pondered about texting his members just to make sure everything was okay, but decided against it. you didn't want to be pushy.

it wasn't until the clock hit midnight that you'd given up. by then you had already called a few times, only being met by his voicemail. at 12:18 you called his manager, knowing that was your last resort. the response you received was disheartening to say the least. he had informed you that your boyfriend and his group had been taken to an after party, claiming it had been a last minute thing, but that they'd all seemed pretty enthusiastic about it. you decided not to voice your annoyance to joshua's unsuspecting manager, instead choosing to go to sleep, sad and dejected.

the next morning when you woke up to 28 messages and 5 missed calls from joshua, you turned off your phone, disregarding him in the same way he had you. happy birthday to you.

jihoon -

despite popular belief, jihoon was not as emotionally constipated as he seemed. he was a great boyfriend, always making sure you felt loved and tended to. you were always one his top priorities, so he would do his best to spend as much time with you despite his packed schedule. you were also one of the only people who made him want to clock out at the end of the day, knowing you'd always be home waiting for him with open arms. jihoon, however, still had the tendency of sometimes holing himself up in his studio. during these periods of time, jihoon would cut off most contact from the outside world, being hard to reach for a few days as he stayed over at his studio without ever making it home.

this week was one of those times. jihoon never really scheduled these occasions. they'd just somehow end up happening whenever he had a spurt of inspiration, being able to conjure an entire series of songs he believed would perform well together. he liked to keep things organized, after all. any time he disappeared for over 24 hours, you could safely assume he was in his studio, not even allowing himself the simple pleasure of going on his phone to message you. for entertainment, he would sometimes allow himself some anime in between work, but not much more than that. he'd still leave the studio occasionally to show up to dance practice and such, but he would not interact with anyone other than his members, his manager, and maybe some staff if need be.

he knew this might be a bit too much, but it was all part of the creative process. as of today, it had been three days since he had left the hybe building, having given his manager full control over his phone as he wished to remain as productive as possible. he knew that one single text from you and he'd haul ass back home, too lost in the bliss of your presence to get himself to do any work. he missed you, of course, but this was not your first rodeo. the two of you had gone through this before, and it seemed like you accepted his weird work habits, having never complained nor shown discomfort over them. which was why he was quite shocked upon finally exiting the building four days later and calling you up in order to finally check in on you, but not finding the usual response.

the first thing he did as soon as he got his phone back was he call a few times, but he had received no response, which was quite strange from you. he knew it was kind of hypocritical to expect an immediate response considering he had gone off the grid for a few days, but he also knew you were usually free at this hour, so he had expected the usual reaction in which you'd jokingly curse him out for ghosting you followed by an invitation to come over.

he decided then to open his imessage, choosing to instead text you and maybe check in on any of the notifications that never arrived due to having kept his phone muted and away from his reach for the past few days. that was when he realized his grave mistake.

from: my love ❤️‍🩹

(sun) baby

(sun) babyyyy

(sun) where are you? i thought u were gonna sleep over tonight? did u forget about tomorrow?

(sun) okay i called u and ur not picking up im gonna assume ur busy. ill call u again tmrrw then. gn hoonie <3

(mon) okay i gave u most of the morning but its 12 now ... i assumed you'd come back yesterday night. are u at the studio?

(mon) are u rlly holed up there today of all days?? we talked about today last week.

(mon) baby :((

(mon) i dont wanna bother u. take ur time. call me whenever ur done i guess :(

that was when your texts had stopped, two days ago after you had seemingly realized he did not have his phone on him. he also noticed a few missed calls from you during those two days, halting upon the second day of no responses from him.

it had not clicked at first, until he noticed the date above the first text, detailing a day before your birthday. the rest of the messages were sent on the date itself, stopping that same day at his lack of response. the realization made jihoon stop in his tracks. how could it have slipped his mind? not only had he forgotten but he had literally left you in the dark during your special day, even continuing his lack of contact for the next two days. his spiraling thoughts were interrupted by you finally calling him back, something that filled jihoon with hope that you weren't angry at him.

"jiho-"

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. i swear to you it just slipped my mind. i'll go home right now and make it up to you, i promise," he interrupted you before you could say anything.

you paused before responding, "jihoon. was work that important? was i that easy to forget? i respect your job, but you decided that day of all days?"

"it wasnt on purpose! baby, please just let me- let me come over and i swear we can have the day together. ill take off tomorrow too. the whole week! im so sorry."

"im ... im not really in the mood to see you right now, hoonie. it's been three days. i thought about just barging in your studio, but i didnt want to be that type of person. i had the stupid hope that you'd show up, that it wasnt that easy to just disregard me, but i was wrong. clearly."

"baby ... im so so sorry. i .. i'll give you your space. can i .. can i see you tomorrow then? please?"

"i'll call you to let you know, okay?"

jihoon held his breath at this, but quietly accepted your request, "i .. okay, baby. i love you."

"yeah, love you too," except your tone was cold, followed by the beeping of the phone, signaling the call had been disconnected.

seokmin -

many people knew seokmin as the embodiment of boyfriend material. or that was at least what many of his fans called him. in reality, he was even better than what cameras showed. he was the nicest, most respectful boyfriend imaginable, always providing you with everything you could ever need and more. he'd come home with flowers on a regular basis, he'd call you every single day to check in on you. he'd make you breakfast any time he had to leave before you, wanting to make sure you were well fed before a new day. he'd go above and beyond on any and every ordinary day in order to show you his utmost affections for you. don't even get you started on your birthday, which was a national holiday in seokmin's eyes. a day dedicated exclusively to celebrating the birth of his beloved? sign him up! nothing beat a day in which he could freely express all types of love towards you. he was over the moon every 365 days, knowing his favorite day would come again and again.

he had a huge day planned for you this year. there was a carnival in town, so he had planned to grab his manager and sneak out there with you for an hour or so before taking you back home. he also planned a cute moonlit dinner out on his balcony upon arriving home. it was all perfectly romantic, just like every other of his gestures towards you. he had the day marked on his calendar, only counting down the days until it finally arrived.

unfortunately for you both, your birthday landed on a work day for seokmin, who actually worked every day, really. but it was fine! seokmin had planned around that. he had his regular rehearsals plus a public appearance at a fashion show in the evening, along with a quick appearance at the afterparty, but after that he was all yours. he had to stay at the dorms this past week, having an extremely packed schedule, but he had made sure to text you a huge good morning paragraph detailing his love for you and how thankful he was you were his (just usual seokmin behavior, to be honest).

the fashion show had passed by quickly, having only taken a few hours. the after party, however, had been dragging a bit. it was now 6:04pm. he had promised you he would be home by 6:30, giving you enough time for the quick outing he had planned, plus a romantic dinner afterwards. he knew he still had time, but he was still worried he might not be able to follow through with his plans. the last thing he wanted was to be late. he currently had no way to communicate with you either, as his manager had possession of his phone while he was in such public schedules.

he lingered a little, making conversation with anyone he knew. there were many familiar faces, with a majority being that of actors who were also ambassadors of the various luxury brands at the event. he even saw a few actors he had been dying to meet. he felt badly at having such a good time while you were at home probably awaiting his return, but that thought left his mind as soon as a few of his musical performer friends approached him, engaging him in conversation. if there was anything seokmin was, it was overly friendly. he never said no to a conversation with friends, always being the energy maker in any and every relationship. however, it was easy for him to lose track of time and space whenever he found himself in conversation with friends, which was how time once again got away from him.

seokmin hadn't realized time had escaped him so quickly until his manager came up to him, quietly interrupting seokmin's lively conversation with his friends to inform him that his phone had been vibrating nonstop. fuck. he completely spaced out. checking his phone, he realized it was now 8:47pm. how had time passed by so quickly? he wad a bit buzzed, but he had no idea how he got caught up in conversation for so long. it was now too late to take you to the carnival, but he could still make it home for the romantic dinner. yes, okay. everything was fine. or at least that's what he thought until finally reading the 10 unanswered messages on his phone (while wincing at the 6 unanswered calls, also from you).

from: my love 😍

(5:32) cant wait for tonight baby <33

(5:32) i even bought a new dress hehe hope u like it ;)

(6:38) baby, are you gonna be running a bit late? it's fine, no rush! just pls let me know so i dont worry haha

(6:49) minnie ... is everything okay?

(7:14) minnie :(( are you coming soon?

(7:45) okay i called u a few times now ... do you not have ur phone on you? idk ur manager's number baby idk how to reach u rn :(

(7:53) they close the carnival at 8, i guess thats not happening anymore is it

(8:16) its so unlike u to keep me in the dark like this. i checked ur location and ur still at the event .. im assuming it ran late?

(8:23) its mean of u to keep me unaware of whats going on minnie

(8:35) okay nvm. u can just stay there. ill see if one of my friends wants to go out. goodnight.

the messages kept getting worse the more he read. he couldn't believe it slipped his mind like this. he planned it for weeks, even adjusting his schedule for it. and now he had ruined it all just because he felt like catching up with some friends.

he wasnt sure what to do. he had kept you in the dark all night, not even letting you know he wouldnt have his phone on him for a majority of it. he knew this was just an accidental slip of his mind, but that still didnt remove the way he hurt you. all he could do now was run home and await for your own return, hoping that you'd understand his mistake.

seungkwan -

such an outgoing guy like seungkwan always had high demand. they did call him the energy maker for a reason. his presence would always light up a room, which was one of the things you loved most about him. you'd met him in a very public setting, being able to witness first-hand how well he got along with, well, everyone.

however, his outgoing personality did come with some faults. due to having such high demand among friends and colleagues, it was sometimes a bit difficult to share seungkwan. yes, he was not yours per say, but he was your boyfriend. you liked to think you had special privileges that gave you exclusive access to his company that not everyone else had. and you did. seungkwan always gave you top priority when it came to sharing his time. he'd always let you know how much he cared for you, always babying you and tending to your every need. there was nothing in this world he loved more than you, his beloved, which was why it was easy for him to put everything aside whenever necessary.

now, you were not one to hog your boyfriend. you never wanted to be that person who insisted on having access to your boyfriend 24/7, nor would you ever want to keep him away from his friends. it was with this mentality that you had let your boyfriend know it was fine if he had previous engagements on the day of your birthday, letting him know that you'd be more than happy that day as long as he came home to you for a nice night together. he'd informed you that he'd be done with work that day at around 4pm, letting you know that he'd pay a quick visit to some of his 98-liner friends afterwards before going home to you. he had apologized to you for the bad timing over and over again, telling you that this was the only day they all had a day off all at once and would not be able to to gather for a few months after that. he'd insisted he would be quick, wanting nothing more than to head back to you as soon as possible. you'd assured him it was okay, being happy he'd be with you on your special day at all.

so now you were waiting. you'd spent part of the day with friends and family, not having seen seungkwan since the prior day due to his stay at the dorms this past week. you didn't mind this, though, as you were used to occasional separation due to his career. he had sent you a message in the morning, wishing you a happy birthday and once more confirming he'd be back home soon, prepared to celebrate your day. when it became a bit later than the time you'd agreed, you decided to continue to wait, not wanting to be pushy while he was with friends. when it became a lot later than the time you'd agreed, you decided to message him. but your messages went unanswered. you then began to call, receiving no response. it went like this until around 10pm, when you had finally chose to just change into your pajamas, only to be interrupted by a call from the man himself.

"baby! i'm so sorry, i just got your messages. i lost track of time, i swear! eunwoo and mingyu called me up while i was with my friends, and they were on live, so i had to go or else it'd look bad. don't be mad at gyu! he had no idea. i was supposed to just stay for a bit, but the live kept on dragging. i swear im on my way right now, i'll be there in-"

"kwan," you sighed, "not even a text? i dont understand. i didnt want to be pushy but .. today? i cant even lie to you. i'm disappointed."

"baby .. i'm so sorry. i completely spaced out. it's totally my fault. i got too caught up with my friends and then when mingyu called, i was too buzzed to even think straight. i- im sorry. i love you. please don't be mad," you could hear him pout from across the line, a bit frantic as he explained.

you sighed again, frustrated since you did tell him it was okay for him to be with his friends, but still sad he had forgotten you so easily, "i'm not mad, kwannie. just sad. i wish you'd called me to let me know you wouldnt be here at all today."

"but i will be! i'm heading there right now, baby, i swear!"

"i dont ... i dont think i wanna do anything anymore, kwan. im sorry," you felt childish and immature, but you really did not want to see him right now. you knew your emotions would only get the best of you. having your boyfriend choose to be away from you on your birthday was beginning to get to you.

"oh," he paused for a beat before continuing, "i- i understand. can i ... can i come over tomorrow morning, then?"

"you have work tomorrow. you have work every day, kwan. you dont have to-"

"please? let me see you tomorrow?"

"i- yeah. okay. i'll see you then."

"thank you ... happy birthday, my love. i love you. please dont forget that."

"love you too, kwannie," you felt sad as you said it, but you knew you still meant it. you just needed to sleep on it to ease the disappointment. or so you hoped.

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