#a piece outside the board au
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capitan-copi · 6 months ago
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jjunieworld · 3 months ago
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I WANNA BE YOURS ˒˒ 최연준͏ ▸ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗰𝗲𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀
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after confessing your feelings and not getting the reaction you hoped for, you decided to cut contact and avoid yeonjun. the only thing is that he refuses to let you go that easily and is determined to show you that your two worlds can collide.
pairing ⸝⸝ choi yeonjun 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦!𝘣𝘦𝘰𝘮𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘥!𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯
genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ secret friends with benefits to ??? to lovers, angst, smut, secret relationship, opposites attract, punk!yeonjun, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, punk x nerd trope, some bad boy x good girl trope, slice of life, college au
warnings ⸝⸝ heartbreak, unprotected sex, soft dom!yeonjun, kinda service!top yeonjun, heavy praise kink, marking, petnames (baby, sweetheart, good girl, babygirl), creampie, multiple orgasms, a lot more desperation and neediness lmao, pussy drunk!yeonjun, body worship, clit stimulation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, some aftercare
kipo’s note ⸝⸝ hehe here’s part two finally for everybody who wanted it for ceilings!! this is inspired by the songs i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys and corner by sace6!! made it extra angsty for you guys since i know you all like the pain (me too) :3 hehe i hope that you like it as much as part one and that the ending is satisfying! (ʃƪ〃゚3゚〃)♡ enjoy my loves!!!
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 9k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖����𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡
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you have been ignoring choi yeonjun, you can finally admit to it now. for a week you’ve been dodging him if you even caught a glimpse of his orange hair with blonde streaks.
you knew it was ridiculous, but how could you ever face him with what happened in your room the last time you saw him? the answer: you don’t face him at all.
of course he noticed, you were now actively avoiding him and not trying to hide it anymore. if you happened to be quickly scurrying past him to get to where you needed to be—which for the past week he always made sure to be near—you could feel his heavy gaze linger on you. yet, he hasn’t stopped by your room at all or even sent you a quick text.
there was now this… awkward tension between the two of you. tension that clearly neither of you knew how to address. and you could see it in his eyes, he wanted to say something to you so desperately, but he kept his mouth shut. and so did you. at this point, you were content in never opening your mouth again.
it’s gotten to the point where even his friends have been questioning him.
“do you know her? why are you staring at her so much?” they would ask him. his answer was always the same variation of this reply: “i’ve seen her around a couple times. we have some classes together.” followed by some lie he quickly made up off the top of his head to explain why his eyes were on you. never the truth.
the fact of the matter is that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, so what’s the point in continuing this secret relationship the two of you have? you were in love with him, but he wasn’t in love with you. two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards—you’d never go together. the two of you should just part ways now while everything was all out on the table.
it was a mistake, confessing your feelings for him, but there was nothing you could do about it now but pretend it never happened. and pretend that you never got involved with choi yeonjun.
you pulled the turtleneck further up your neck as you ducked next to where the outside water fountains were, chest rising heavily as your eyes darted to the side. you hoped yeonjun didn’t see you. sighing to yourself softly, you pulled your phone out and checked the love bites on your neck. they were almost faded now, but every time you looked at them you can’t help but think of that night and a sharp pain erupts in your chest.
you moved to leave before you were suddenly cornered against the brick wall of the campus building you ducked behind. you smelt his familiar cologne before you saw his face and dyed hair. “we have to talk. you can’t keep avoiding me.”
your heartbeat suddenly picked up and you quickly swallowed down the lump forming in your throat. “we have nothing to talk about,” you replied, eyes locked on the band tee he was wearing.
it was a lie, you knew that. you knew that at some point the two of you had to talk about your confession, but you desperately wished he would just let it go and pretend like it never happened like you were.
“don’t bullshit me, y/n,” yeonjun countered, leaning into your ear.
you eyes traveled up to the skull necklace you have gifted him. slight surprise coursed through you at the fact that he still wore it—at the fact that he wore it at all. your eyes then locked on his and you gathered all the firmness you could to add to your stare.
“you clearly don’t feel the same way that i do, yeonjun. let’s just leave it at that.” as you spoke, a small group of students passed by the corner you both were tucked in. yeonjun frantically backed away from you and checked your surroundings, eyes darting from place to place.
you scoffed to yourself. how ridiculous. “you don’t even want to be seen in public with me,” you continued, deep hurt creeping in the edges of your voice.
yeonjun’s eyes darted back to yours and he quickly stepped towards you. “it’s complicated,” he said.
“it’s… complicated...” you shook your head at him in disbelief as you slowly repeated his words, words growing in volume as you went on. “it isn’t, yeonjun. it really isn’t. trigonometry is complicated, this is—”
“i want to be with you,” he interrupted, voice just above a whisper, and grabbed your hands in his. yeonjun’s face was pleading, and almost desperate, but you were done. you were done being second choice to whatever he put ahead of you.
for months you were with him in the four corners of your room and you didn’t share a single complaint as long as the two of you were together. but now that he didn’t even want to be seen with you where others could possibly see, you were done.
you snatched your hands from his and yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up. “in secret! without any strings attached—but i can’t keep doing this with you. i can’t be with someone who only wants to be with me in private, who doesn’t want to be with me at all. i won’t allow myself.”
as you were pouring your everything onto the floor in front of yeonjun, you watched as he still glanced around the two of you, making sure that nobody was listening to your words. in real time, you felt your heart crack and shatter into a million pieces. all you could do was sigh defeatedly.
you turned towards the building you were originally heading for, no doubt late for the class you were supposed to be at, and began walking off. you felt yeonjun’s hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back.
your mouth opened in protest but the sound was quickly smothered as his lips smashed onto yours. you froze, heartbeat racing even further. hate sunk deep into the pit of your stomach. you hated how you melted into his touch and how your heart beat so fast it felt like it might explode. you hated how good his lips felt on yours—how familiar they felt and how much you missed the feeling.
you pushed him away from you, shock clear on your face as you looked up at him. in the seconds it took you to register that he just kissed you again for the first time after a week, your eyes darted to the side. to the completely empty campus. not a soul could be seen for miles. you looked back at him.
tears sprang to your eyes and this time you couldn’t stop the ones that managed to escape in his presence. you shook your head once again. “it’s over, yeonjun.” you broke free of him, hurt now showing through full force in your voice. “whatever we had… it’s over.”
you walked off, leaving his frozen figure behind you.
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pushing your textbooks to the side, you sighed heavily to yourself. no matter what you did, you couldn’t focus—and that was unusual for you when it came to your studies. exams were just around the corner and you couldn’t afford to be distracted.
you removed your glasses and pinched the bridge of your nose. the only thing that stuck in your mind was your last conversation with yeonjun. slumping down onto the table in front of you, you looked around at the quiet library. you just couldn’t understand it.
did the opinions of his friends and strangers really matter that much to him? were you really not enough for him that he just had to keep you secret? what was it? yeonjun claimed that he wanted the two of you together, but he hesitates at the two of you being seen in public together. it made your mind twist and run in circles trying to figure it all out.
if he just wanted to be friends with benefits, why not find someone else? he could’ve saved you both the trouble. and you were sure there would be people jumping at the opportunity of that kind of relationship with him—but, not you.
you put your glasses back on as you sighed again. you hated to think it, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that ran through your head. what could you do to be enough for him?
how could you change yourself so that he wasn’t ashamed to be with you?
did you have to dye your hair a bright color? get rid of your argyle sweaters and longer-length skirts and instead wear darker clothes, more shorter skirts, and listen to the same rock music that he did? sport the frilly black dresses or the tighter, more vibrant clothing his female friends did? be more opinionated and vulgar and really speak your mind? 
it was clear that you weren’t retaining any information from your textbooks. you started to pack up, returning books back to where you found them and putting your notebooks back in your bag. you thought over every interaction you’ve ever had with yeonjun; how every moment led you to where the two of you were now. you could only think of one thing.
maybe you and yeonjun were two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards—and maybe you were trying too hard to force yourselves to fit together. maybe doing so has pushed you and yeonjun into a corner that neither of you knew how to get out of now.
without realizing the time, night had fallen around you and you stepped out into the coldness of the outside world. you looked up towards the starless sky.
perhaps the two of you should just stick to what you both know, instead of trying to go outside of the box.
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yeonjun twirled the small skull necklace that you had gifted him between his fingers as he zoned out from the conversation his friends were having. he thought back to that night almost two weeks ago now, how you basically confessed that you were in love with him in your room. it still caught him off guard.
at first he thought that you were joking, until your heavy silence followed immediately after. he wanted to go back and say something other than what he did—wanted to kick himself for hesitating. yeonjun wanted to kick himself now for still hesitating.
he wasn’t exactly sure how to describe the feelings he felt for you, this whole thing was new to him. yeonjun didn’t do relationships. but, it was clear that you did. and he wanted you.
yeonjun wasn’t the flashy type or the openly affectionate type either. he honestly wasn’t sure that he could give you what you so desperately wanted from him. yet, he just couldn’t seem to let go of you either. was it selfish? yes. but, yeonjun didn’t care. not when you were slipping from his grasp.
with the other girls he’s been with it was easy. they never fell for him or expected more than the physical relationship that he had with them. they all knew what they were getting and took it at face value for what it was. but you were different—and he was different with you. yeonjun couldn’t explain to himself what set you apart, there was just something about you. all he knew was that he liked the change. he liked the different relationship the two of you had, and he was willing to do anything to keep it.
yeonjun just so happened to glance up as you were scurrying across the campus yard a couple feet away from him. he saw the way that you tried to avoid his stare, but still snuck the quickest of looks in his direction, trying to disguise it as you pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose. the corners of his lips rose the slightest bit. he had to talk to you again, make you see that calling off what the two of you had was the wrong choice.
a finger snapped in his face and his eyes focused back to his friends. “where has your head been at lately?” his friend, beomgyu, asked. he turned, his long brown hair falling into his eyes as he followed yeonjun’s gaze, “and what is it with you and that girl?”
yeonjun straightened as he tore his gaze away from you and brought beomgyu’s attention back to him. “nothing, i was just zoned out.” he purposefully ignored beomgyu’s second question.
beomgyu thankfully turned back to him, his eyes now focusing on something else entirely. “where did you get that necklace? you’ve never worn one before that.”
“uh, i don’t know? some random store i was getting clothes from, it caught my eye—why are you asking me so many questions? mind your business.” he dropped the necklace from his fingers. yeonjun didn’t have time to explain something he wasn’t quite sure of himself, not when he had to catch up to you. “i gotta go,” yeonjun quickly added, pushing away from his group of friends as he jogged in the direction you went in.
behind him, he heard beomgyu say to his other friends, “you think him and that girl are involved?” another one of his friends’ voices piped up. “the nerd? definitely not. she’s not his type.”
“i don’t know…” beomgyu trailed, “they would look cute together. there’s gotta be something happening at the very least.”
thankfully you hadn’t gone that far and yeonjun was able to catch up to you easily. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from prying eyes and somewhere more private. you turned in his grasp, looking up at him with an almost defeated and annoyed look.
“this can’t be over,” he started. you looked around before turning to walk away, but not before yeonjun held your wrist again, keeping you in place. “tell me what to do to fix this—help me fix this.”
yeonjun was kicking himself again for not knowing the words to express what he wanted to say. suddenly all the vocabulary he’d ever fucking learned disappears when he tries to talk to you and he ends up a bumbling mess.
“help you fix this?” you repeated.
yeonjun nodded, “yes. i wanna be with you—i wanna be yours. if you want a relationship, then we can have one.”
you tilted your head to the side and adjusted your glasses as you looked at him. “so if i were to go up to your friends with you right now and introduce myself as your girlfriend you wouldn’t have a problem with it?” you asked him, glancing back to the direction yeonjun came from mere moments before. yeonjun hesitated, stammering over his words. his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth.
you just scoffed to yourself at him. “you still don’t get it,” you said. “i don’t want to be another girl that you hook up with—another girl that you like. i want to be the girl that you like. i want to be more.”
hatred bubbled up inside you and threatened to spill over at the fact that you were still in love with him. at the fact that you were still wrapped around his finger to the point that you almost jumped at the opportunity of a relationship. yeonjun was just saying that to appease you—to get you naked and under him again and have things return to the way they were before.
resentment started to build towards yeonjun at the secrecy. it was a lot easier to blame him for how your relationship went up in flames instead of how flawed it was to begin with. besides, it felt good to restrict yourself from him—to have him stare at you as you passed while you ignored him instead, even if you still missed him and his touch.
you knew that this was all doing more harm than good, but right now you just couldn’t seem to care. maybe yeonjun’s attitude was finally starting to rub off on you and he was getting a taste of his own medicine.
yeonjun’s brows knitted together at your words. “you are the girl that i like,” he said, “there’s nobody else but you.”
you stared at him for a moment in silence. in a melancholic voice you asked, “why do you like me?”
yeonjun could feel you drifting further and further away from him and he didn’t like it. he wanted to pin you to his chest so that you always stayed close—like the necklace around his neck you gave him. his mind raced and there felt like there was sand in his mouth as he raced against the hourglass of time that the two of you had left—and still, he came up empty once again.
it wasn’t that he didn’t have any reasons for liking you—he had plenty—it was just that there were so many that his brain short-circuited. if you just gave him the time and a pen and paper he could make whole novels. but time was running out and yeonjun watched as your face fell more and more the longer the seconds ticked by.
“because of the sex?” you asked, voice raising. yeonjun looked around the two of you before sighing and cupping your face with his hands as he shook his head. something inside him cracked at the way your eyes started to become glassy. “does the thrill of you sneaking into my window at night knowing that nobody would ever expect the two of us together excite you?” you continued. “genuinely, what is it, yeonjun? help me understand.”
glassy tears fell down your cheeks and yeonjun felt himself shatter. he tried to pull you closer to him, to comfort you, but you pushed him away. you shook your head as your gaze dropped to the ground. “you really know how to break my heart in two, don’t you?” you asked in a small voice as you looked up at him, completely defeated.
you turned and moved to leave. yeonjun tried to grab your hand, but the only thing he was able to grasp was the fleeting touch of your fingertips against his as you got further away from him. he stood completely rooted to the spot you left him in, frozen, as he watched you disappear.
suddenly everything yeonjun wanted to say to you crashed into him like a wave, but he was too late. he twisted towards the trash can next to him and gave it an angry and harsh kick, causing it to fly across the grass. students passing by jumped at the sudden noise and looked yeonjun’s way, but he couldn’t care less.
yeonjun buried his head in his hands and pulled at the tips of his hair. “fuck!” he yelled, running his hands messily through his hair. he looked up and saw a couple of students looking at him. “what the fuck are you looking at?” he angrily called out to them as he briskly walked away.
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whether you intended to or not, you started to change yourself. your sweaters got darker, your skirts got shorter, and you even started to put on a hint of eyeliner before leaving. when you looked at yourself in the mirror it almost felt like there was a stranger staring back; it was you but it wasn’t at the same time. like you were wearing a cheap costume and pretending to be something that you weren’t.
you withdrawled more and more into yourself, only really emerging to take your exams and to study. you felt so bleak that even the darkness of your clothes didn’t light a match onto the way you felt inside. even your friends started to notice.
“so is this a new look you’re going for?” taehyun asked, his eyes looking over you. you shrugged and finished writing the sentence you were writing in your notebook. “i never even seen you wear black before and… is—is that eyeliner?” he added, moving closer to you until you were face to face.
you made a face and pushed him away. “it’s makeup and clothes, why does it matter to you?” you bit back, tone sharp. you didn’t mean to be so snappy with taehyun, it seemed you haven’t had the patience lately. you shifted in your seat, adjusting your skirt and sweater. the weather was getting colder during the daytime, so you decided to wear some black tights and boots.
taehyun just gave you a look, “you don’t seem yourself—you haven’t been yourself, y/n. what’s going on with you?” you looked back at him with a glare, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.
scoffing, you hurriedly threw your things back into your bag. “nothing,” you pushed out, “i am completely myself. just because i wear different clothes and makeup from time to time doesn’t mean i’m not myself.” you stood from the table and threw your bag over your shoulders.
adjusting your skirt again, you swirled to where taehyun still sat, a shocked expression on his face from your outburst. “maybe you should learn to not stick your nose into other people’s business.” with that, you stormed out of the student lounge.
you were heading towards the library to continue studying when your phone buzzed. you fished it from your bag, seeing what it was from. you stopped dead in your tracks right in the middle of the sidewalk. it was yeonjun.
the wall you had painstakingly built up around you started to crack as you read his incoming messages and you felt your knees start to get weak. you were doing so well ignoring and avoiding him, how could you let a simple text from him have all of it come crashing down?
yeonjun: baby. yeonjun: i really need to talk to you.
you have come so far with shutting him out of your heart, yet one little message has all of your love for him flood back into you. why now? it’s been weeks, you were finally starting to try to move on; why would he make you love him again?
it was enough to feel his eyes on you—always on you, no matter where you went anywhere in his presence. you could almost hear his voice in your head with the way he radiated onto you. you knew he wanted to talk to you again, but he held back. it angered you. for once you just wanted him to spit it out, spit out the words hiding behind his tongue instead of always holding back.
you wanted him to fight for you, to show you that he cares about you—you, and not just what you could offer him. not your help with his studies, not the excitement he got from sneaking around with you, and not the sex. you wanted him to hold you like he never wanted to let you go ever again. and if you tried hard enough, you could almost feel his skin on yours again—and damn if you didn’t miss it all.
you heaved in a shaky breath as you stared at the messages. with another shaky breath, you pushed your phone back into your bag and kept walking to the library.
another starless night greeted you as you finished all the work you needed to do today. the cold air nipped at your cheeks and you made your way through the quiet streets back to your apartment.
you pushed open your front door, thankful to finally be home and take some of the stress off your back. you dropped your bag near the entrance and made your way to your room so you could shower the day away.
opening your bedroom door, you froze in complete shock. yeonjun sat on your floor, his back pressed up against the bottom edge of your bed as he idly flipped through one of your textbooks. he looked up at your entrance and his eyes immediately flicked over you. yeonjun flipped the textbook closed without looking at it and tossed it to the side as he stood.
you inhaled sharply, your brows drawing together. mentally, you cursed yourself for stupidly forgetting to lock your window. it’s been unlocked for yeonjun for so long now that you completely forgot about it. you stumbled over your words as yeonjun took a step closer to you. “w-what the fuck?” you murmured.
yeonjun raised a brow at your words.
he took another step towards you and his eyes trailed along your body, taking in every inch of you. “you look… different,” yeonjun said, his eyes finally meeting yours. it almost made you collapse. “it seems like i’m finally rubbing off on you.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat as you stepped into the room. you moved to your dresser and began taking out some pajamas, turning your back towards yeonjun so he didn’t see the way you hands shook. “why are you here?” you spoke. your mouth felt dry and your voice came out almost hoarse.
behind you, you heard yeonjun’s footsteps move closer to you. “i needed to see you,” he replied. “hear your voice again… i missed you.”
when you didn’t respond, yeonjun gently grabbed your arm. sparks exploded from his touch and your heart rate picked up. you sat the clothes on the top of your dresser and tightened your hands into fists. “talk to me, baby. we can’t keep just passing by each other like we don’t know one another,” yeonjun added, his voice low in the quiet room.
you turned to face him, your face full of anger. “what? now it’s too much when i ignore you but it wasn’t when you were ignoring me?” you pushed him away from you and moved towards where your desk was to get away from him. “now that you’re getting a taste of how i feel, it's bitter, huh? it’s rotting you to the core, isn’t it?” you added sarcastically.
yeonjun looked at you from across the room, “it is. it fucking is and it sucks and i’m sorry. i never knew you felt this way. if i did, i never would’ve put you through it.” yeonjun took a couple steps towards you and you held out a hand to stop him. “but, i know now. i know now and i’ll make a million promises to never put you through it again.” you scoffed.
“you bring out the best in me,” yeonjun said, running a hand through his faded dyed hair. “we bring out the best in each other, you know that. and this… this isn’t you, y/n.”
you rose your chin slightly in defiance. “and what if this is me?” you countered. “don’t you like it?”
yeonjun hummed and for a moment he was quiet. you could see the gears turning and turning in his head as he took in your appearance once again, making his way closer and closer to you until he stood mere inches away from you. you watched as his eyes dragged up your body before finally connecting with yours once more. “i like the real you,” yeonjun said.
your little defiant act fell flat and you looked away from him, licking your lips.
“i like your preppy looking clothes and how it makes you light up a room. i like the way your glasses fall down when you’re focusing on something too hard to notice and i have to adjust them for you—i like how you don’t even notice that i do it sometimes.” yeonjun took a small step towards you and your breath hitched. he reached forward and adjusted your glasses for you.
the tips of his fingers grazed over your cheek and you felt the fire light underneath you, making heat spread all throughout your body. you looked at him again, his eyes boring into yours and softening at your gaze. without realizing it, you leaned into his touch.
yeonjun continued, the pad of his thumb dragging along your chin. “i like how soft your skin is, and the way it feels against mine. i like the way i can feel your body heat up like a crackling fire when i touch you and how your heart thumps out of your skin. i like feeling you close to me.” he then closed the distance between the two of you so that you were now pressed close to him.
the heat of his body thawed you completely; crumbled down the walls you built and forced out the feelings you desperately tried to hide. yeonjun took in every inch of your face, like it was one he hasn’t seen for centuries, as he spoke, “i like how when we’re apart, i crave you. i like the way my body reacts to yours everytime you’re near. it’s like you send a shockwave through me and every fiber of my being is alight; like i finally see clearly—and all i want to look at is you. i didn’t understand what it all meant, why you felt so different—why i felt so different, but i do now. i like who i am when i’m with you.”
his lips brushed at the shell of your ear, “i like that we’re different. i like that we drive each other crazy, because then it means that we care about each other. i like you. not some other girl, not this version of you that you think i’d like—you.” yeonjun’s lips were feather-light across your jaw. he was so close to you that if you were to lean forward the slightest bit, your lips would meet. “enough with all of this. let me feel you again.”
yeonjun pressed his lips to your in the most searing kiss you’ve ever had in your life. like you were the flint and he was the steel and your kiss was the spark that set everything ablaze. you let out a small gasp against his lips from the heat of it all. it felt so surreal, like watching lightning strike across the night sky and making it almost seem like day. the more your lips moved in sync, the more lightning there was, the more the sky brightened until it was an electrifying battle between night and day.
your hands moved up yeonjun’s chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you even closer. if your hands weren’t in the way, you were sure that your rapid heartbeats would be in perfect sync, too. if your kiss was the lightning, your hearts were the booming thunder, demanding to be heard—demanding to be felt.
after the two of you were fighting for oxygen in your deprived lungs, you pulled away just the slightest bit to gulp in heavy breaths. with the last strength inside you, you pushed at yeonjun’s chest and turned your head to the side. he didn’t move far, his grip around your waist refusing to be broken. you could feel his confusion and he pressed a light kiss to your burning cheek.
you turned your gaze to your ceiling, the ceiling that you’ve spent so many days staring at and daydreaming about a relationship that you didn’t have. even with yeonjun’s words, it all still felt too good to be true. it felt like if you were to look over at your bed, you would see yourself laying there, eyes on the ceiling, lost in the world you have created.
storm clouds drifted over you. what if he was only saying what you wanted to hear? what he needed to say to you so you’d lay yourself completely bare in front of him again. you didn’t think you could have the stars come crashing down around you again if you let yourself let yeonjun hang them in the sky for you.
you dragged your gaze from your ceiling back to yeonjun’s confused stare. a pained expression flickered across your face and you tried to hide it the best you could. you swallowed, and barely above a whisper you said, “if you just want some girl to fuck, find someone else.”
you tried to push him away more, but the more you pushed, the more he pulled you back into him. until your chest was up against his and you were flush against his body—and still, he pulled you closer; like the slightest leeway between you two would destroy him. like if he didn’t hold you close you would disappear. you felt the way his heartbeat picked up even more and saw the desperation appear in his eyes as his brows knitted together and he shook his head.
“it’s not like that and you know it,” yeonjun said, his voice matching the tone of yours. “i don’t want to fuck just any girl, i want to fuck you.”
ever vulgar, yeonjun’s words, but you knew deep down that he meant what he said. and you knew that he wasn’t just talking about the sex. his fingers wandered up your sides, cautiously exploring your body on their own accord. your eyes fluttered shut briefly as you inhaled deeply. “i want to feel you, be with you,” yeonjun continued.
yeonjun caught your lips in another kiss and this time you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch. you felt his need through the kiss and you were sure he could feel yours, too. the two of you stumbled backwards a couple steps and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself stable, your lips never leaving his. his tongue slipped into your mouth and danced with yours.
the clouds parted and one by one stars started to twinkle in the night sky. no longer were your skies starless. it was all too much all at once and you tore yourself away from yeonjun, shaking your head. “i can’t…” you whispered, breath haggard, “i can’t keep doing this with you. not after everything.”
yeonjun cupped your face so you would look at him again. tears welled up in your eyes and you were just so overwhelmed. you didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if you could put your love somewhere where it could be shattered again. not after you were still picking up all of the pieces of your heart.
“so let me take the lead,” yeonjun said. “let me show you how much i want you. how much i need you.”
his lips were on yours again as he backed you up towards your bed. the back of your knees hit the edge and you fell down onto it, looking up at yeonjun with a melodramatic stare. he kicked off his boots and shrugged off the black leather jacket he wore, letting it fall to a heap on your floor. yeonjun then grabbed the bottom hem of your black, argyle sweater and pulled it off of you, tossing it to the side next to where his jacket laid.
“i really do like you, you know that right?” he asked you as he stripped off one of his various band tees that he wore. you nodded and yeonjun nodded along with you. his fingers hooked under your skirt, “yeah? good.”
in one swift motion he pulled off your skirt, tights, and your panties underneath, tossing them carelessly to the side by the rest of your clothes. you were only left in your bra as you crawled backwards up your bed.
yeonjun slowly unbuckled the belt in his jeans. “you really like me?” you asked shyly, pressing your legs together and leaning them to the side. the corners of yeonjun’s lips rose. his eyes sparkled in the low lamplight and it made the smudged eyeliner around his eyes appear darker. “of course i do, babygirl.”
his voice was full of amusement, like you just asked him if the sky was blue. heat flushed your face and pooled at the pit in your stomach. you suppose it was a silly question, considering all that he said to you tonight.
yeonjun pulled down his black jeans, exposing the large bulge in his boxers. “i like like you, sweetheart. i think i’ve made that pretty obvious tonight.”
you inhaled sharply, your eyes trailing over him and the articles of clothing that kept disappearing from his body. he pushed down his boxers and his large cock sprang free, precum already glittering from the slit. he looked back up at you and your heart stopped.
yeonjun got up onto the bed and moved toward you until you were caged beneath his body. he reached behind you and stripped off your bra, lips hovering over your exposed breasts. you felt his warm breath against your skin and shivered.
“i can spend the whole night listing off every little thing i like about you,” he said in a low voice that your ears just managed to catch through the ringing in your ears. yeonjun pressed chaste kisses from your breasts, to your chest, and all the way up to where he placed a kiss on your lips. “but i’d rather just show you instead, don’t you think?”
he dipped his head into the crook of your neck while his hands trailed down your body. you pulsated with need and desire for him, and your hands splayed across his back and pulled him closer. yeonjun chuckled lowly, the vibrations sending waves throughout your body. his hand moved between your legs and spread your wetness throughout your folds before his thumb rubbed circles into your clit.
you gasped, clutching tighter to him as your back arched. yeonjun pulled away from your neck, his thumb still drawing circles, as he looked at you through his dyed hair. you caught sight of the small skull necklace you gave him resting against his collarbones. even after everything, he never took it off. you swallowed thickly and nodded at his previous question.
yeonjun’s lips brushed against yours and he pushed you back onto the bed so that he hovered over you. the necklace you gave him dangled right beneath your lips and every so often you could feel the cold metal against them. yeonjun’s head tilted to the side, “do you want me to list everything, or do you want me to fuck you instead?”
your mouth opened but no words came out, only a small moan as your hips lifted towards his hand. yeonjun hummed, stopping his movements and you almost whined at the loss of friction. “what’s it gonna be?” he asked, pretty lips attaching to your neck with open-mouthed kisses before nipping at the soft skin to leave marks in his wake.
“p-please,” you begged, lifting your hips towards his hand again in a desperate attempt for friction. “please fuck me.”
yeonjun smiled against your skin and his thumb finally continued to circle the sensitive nub. you whimpered at the sudden contact, wrapping your legs around his waist. “good girl,” yeonjun praised. he reached for one of your pillows and had you lift your hips so he could place it under them.
he grabbed his cock, stroking it along your wet folds. “because tonight, you’re all mine. and i like keeping you all to myself. i don’t like sharing.”
yeonjun pushed into you with a low grunt and you swear you felt him deeper than you ever have before. you gasped loudly at how you could feel all of him inside you and how full it made you feel. it felt like the two of you finally fit together—no longer were you both forcing each other into a board you didn’t belong to. now, there was a whole new puzzle board, one to which you both belonged.
with a slow starting pace, yeonjun thrusted into you. “how’s that, baby? does that feel good?” the wet sound of his cock dragging in and out of you and the slight slap of skin hitting skin put you in a frenzy and turned you on even more. you moaned loudly as you nodded.
“you’re taking me so well,” yeonjun said, hands grabbing your hips and pushing them down into the pillow. he increased his pace, the lewd sounds growing louder with every thrust. “gonna fuck your pretty pussy full of my cum and make you feel so good you’ll be crying my name for the rest of the month.”
his hands on your hips prevented you from rolling them up towards him, but it didn’t stop the way you back arched off your sheets. loud moans fell from your parted lips and yeonjun leaned down you kiss you, cock still thrusting into you. you moaned against his mouth from the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. “don’t stop,” you breathed, arms wrapping around his neck.
“trust me, i don’t intend to,” yeonjun said huskily. a moan parted from him and you could feel the rope in your stomach tighten. “your pretty little pussy is gonna stay wrapped around my cock all night.”
you hands pulled at the tips of his hair as you clenched down hard against him. yeonjun pulled away from your lips, a whimper leaving his mouth as he looked down between your bodies. “fuck,” he muttered in a low whine and his hands moved up your body and to your breasts. he grabbed at them as you rocked your hips upwards.
you were a whimpering mess underneath him, and if he wasn’t making you feel so good right now you’d be a bit embarrassed by how desperate you felt clawing at his skin and pulling at his hair. your body moved on it’s own as you tried to gain the most pleasure that you possibly could. your head dug into your pillow and your back arched so high that there was no need for the pillow underneath your hips because you were practically floating. 
“please…” you trailed, eyes rolling backwards briefly as heavy breaths pushed past your lips. you were so, so close. you felt so good that you could see stars again.
“shh, shh, shh,” yeonjun shushed you, his face in your neck leaving soft kisses. “i got you, baby. just let go.”
with one perfectly timed roll of your hips your body shook as the rope inside you snapped. you cried out as your release started to pour out of you and leave a white ring around yeonjun’s cock. he groaned at the sight, still thrusting into you, and your body felt limp and heavy. you started to squirm and yeonjun moved your legs from his waist and pinned them to your chest.
“shit, look at how pretty,” he almost laughed as he watched his cock disappear inside of you and reappear covered in cum. “and it’s all for me. my good girl, you made such a mess.”
your skin slapping against his, sticky with cum, sent you over the edge. you were torn between wanting more of him and wanting to push him away from all the overstimulation. it was all too much and you dug your fingers into your blanket. “jjunie,” you cried out in a gasp, your tongue heavy in your mouth, “c-can’t…”
yeonjun fucked deeper into you, amazed at your glistening pussy and your arousal for him. he hit just the right place that had you crying out more for him. he firmly held onto the back of your knees that were pressed to your chest as he trailed his gaze up your body. “just a little more, sweetheart. you can handle it.”
he threw his head back, his eyes fluttering closed, as he completely lost himself in you. you were taking him so good he never wanted to leave. all he wanted was to keep you like this, his hard cock buried deep inside of you as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from your shaking body. he wanted to fill you up with so much of his cum that it flowed like a river out of you when he did finally pull himself out. you were everything he wanted—everything he needed, and more. and he never wanted to let you go ever again.
yeonjun buried himself completely inside you, barely pulling out before trying to bury himself deeper into you. he moaned loudly as he looked down at your spent body, you were fucked out of you pretty little mind and he was close to it. white ropes of cum shot inside you until it had no choice but to squeeze out from around yeonjun’s thick cock. yeonjun blissfully exhaled, his firm grip on you loosening.
leaning towards you, he fixed your crooked and slightly fogged up glasses that fell down your nose bridge. yeonjun’s chest rose and fell heavily as he smiled at you, kissing you deeply. “good, babygirl. you did very good for me,” he murmured before pressing his lips to the sensitive marks he left on your skin. you felt his smile when you shivered slightly. “do you feel good?”
you felt as he shallowly thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot again. your voice caught in your throat as you clung to him and nodded. you felt your legs shake even more. yeonjun just chuckled, his nose dragging along your jaw before he pulled away. “good. let me make you feel even better.”
yeonjun slowly pulled out of you, watching the way his cum spilled out of your spent cunt and down the curve of your ass. he took his thumb and pushed it back into you, eyes twinkling. you whined from his actions and squirmed to the side but yeonjun held you in place.
suddenly, he buried two of his fingers into you. you gasped, “can’t t-take anymore!” your eyes screwed shut. yeonjun pumped his fingers inside you at a rapid pace and held your body in place with his other hand. “do you want me to stop?” he asked as his fingers curled inside you.
you cried out, voice almost a hoarse scream as you quickly shook your head. “n-no!” yeonjun hummed in satisfied response.
loud, squelching sounds bounced off the walls of your room from your wet pussy. you felt like you were gonna black out the closer yeonjun’s fingers brought you to another orgasm. you shook so hard and moaned so loud that it felt like your body had a mind of its own. suddenly, your brows drew together and you tried to quickly push yeonjun away from you.
it was too late. liquid sprayed from you and all over yeonjun. your body went limp as you went from shaking all over to trembling. yeonjun froze, his fingers still inside of you. you didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed at the fact that you just squirted all over him.
yeonjun’s eyes were wide as they trailed over your body. then his face brightened into a prideful and smug expression, the corners of his mouth raising. “fuck, baby, that was so hot.” he was practically beaming as he pulled his fingers from you, hand completely wet. you whimpered at the loss, eyes closing.
he wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you up. “come on, babygirl. let’s get you cleaned up before i make you do that again.”
after getting you and your sheets all cleaned up, the two of you laid in your bed—half naked—as your lips moved in sync in a slow kiss. you were basically pinned to yeonjun and the more the two of you kissed, the closer he pressed you against him. you both didn’t even realize that it had been hours and it was already deep into the night until it clicked in your brain that you had a busy schedule tomorrow.
you didn’t want to say anything, though, because that meant that yeonjun would leave soon. you didn’t want him to go. you were afraid that if he did the illusion would be shattered—that none of what happened tonight was actually real and you made it all up in your despairing sadness.
it seemed that yeonjun remembered, unfortunately. he pulled away from your lips, moving the two of you so that you had some space and weren’t pinned to him anymore. “i gotta go, baby.” his face showed that he wanted to do anything but that.
he sat up and moved to stand, but before he could you grabbed his wrist. with a look full of sorrow and desperation, you said, “stay… don’t go.”
yeonjun paused and looked back at you—really looked at you. he saw all the cracks inside you that he caused, every single last one. he saw the glassy tears start to form in your eyes.
he was determined to mend them all—determined to make you whole again.
yeonjun turned back towards you, nodding. he leaned down to take off your glasses and sat them on your nightstand. he then reached over to your lamp and shut it off, basking the two of you into darkness. then, he climbed back into the bed with you and pulled you close to his chest.
in the morning, you woke up before he did. sunlight filtered through your blinds and made his orange hair look even more bright and saturated. gently, you reached up and took on of the blonde streaks between your fingers before dropping it and moving closer to him.
you were shocked that yeonjun was still here in the bed next to you, that this wasn’t all a dream like you thought it was. he was actually here with you. you heart fluttered in your chest and all you could do was stare adoringly at him.
you didn’t realize that you must’ve been staring for a while because suddenly yeonjun’s sleepy voice filled your ears. “i can feel you staring,” he said groggily.
embarrassment filled you, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. yeonjun cracked an eye open before his face scrunched together from the bright light of the sun. “god, why is it so fucking bright in here?” he complained.
you giggled at his reaction and his arms snaked around you and pulled you to him. yeonjun buried his face into your neck to shield himself from the sunshine. “you should probably get use to the daylight,” you smiled, “‘cause i think we’re late for our morning classes.” yeonjun just groaned.
he peeked his head out to look at you. “hey…” he trailed off, eyes darting away from you hesitantly. you furrowed your brows. “yeah?” you replied.
yeonjun inhaled sharply and it looked like he was trying to find the right words to say. “i should’ve said it earlier—should’ve said it that night. but… i just didn’t know what it all meant.” you looked at him confused, urging him to go on. yeonjun sighed and turned away from you to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes. he then turned back to you, brows drawn together. “i… i don’t just like you,” he started it, “i’m in love with you.”
your eyes widened and your heart soared out of your chest. you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face. “really?” you asked, voice small. “you’re not just saying that?”
yeonjun fully turned back to you and cupped your cheek with his hand. he nodded, “i mean it. i’m not just saying it just to say it.”
you searched his eyes for a moment, looking for any hint of a lie but all you saw was sincerity. you then moved forward and pressed your lips to his. “well, you already know how i feel…” you trailed, pulling away from his lips ever so slightly.
yeonjun laughed, “i do.” his lips met your again and it was everything you ever needed. never again did you want another starless night, not when yeonjun makes your skies so full of stars.
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you were leaving your class and crossing the campus when a hand intertwined with yours. you looked over and yeonjun smiled down at you, walking alongside you. you were still a little shocked at the public display despite the fact that it’s been a couple of days.
yeonjun pressed a kiss to your cheek. “walk with me?” he asked. “i want you to meet my friends.”
you both slowed to a stop and you looked at him with wide eyes, causing him to laugh. “they’re cool, i promise!” you looked around nervously. what if after all of this they didn’t like you? that yeonjun was right to initially keep your—then—secret relationship from them? you sighed, nodding a little, “o-okay…”
he pulled you in a different direction and in the distance you saw a small group of people hanging around. your heart thumped more and more the closer you got to them. when you stood in front of them, hand in hand with yeonjun, you gave them a nervous smile. “guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n,” yeonjun introduced you.
you smiled and waved awkwardly. all of their faces lit up, which you weren’t expecting. yeonjun’s friend with long brown hair half covering his eyes gave you a triumphant smile and held out a stripped arm warmer covered hand to one of the other boys. “i called it! you owe me forty bucks!” the other boy grumbled as he dug into his bag.
one of the girls stepped up to you and yeonjun, mostly smiling at you. she wore a black, frilly dress and had on stark black and white makeup. “i knew this months ago!” she said and her eyes darted towards yeonjun. you both gave her a confused look. “you weren’t exactly subtle with all the sneaking around you were doing,” she said to yeonjun. “you literally couldn’t take your eyes off her no matter how hard you tried. like a puppy waiting for it’s owner to come back home.”
you and yeonjun glanced at each other with wide eyes.
yeonjun awkwardly laughed at being exposed and pulled you into his side. he looked down at you and you could see the slight embarrassment in his eyes as you raised an eyebrow at him. “ignore her,” he said, waving a hand in the air. “i don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“like a puppy waiting for it’s owner,” you repeated slowly, amused. “you didn’t tell me you missed me that much!”
“oh, i like her!” the girl said. you smiled at her and she linked your arm with hers and pulled you away from yeonjun, introducing you to more of the group. you looked over your shoulder at yeonjun, who was getting teased by his friends, just as he looked up at you. he gave you a fond smile.
he was so not living all of this down.
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∿ [ continue on to . . . part one , masterlist , taglist ] ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡
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moonstruckme · 1 month ago
Text
Thawing Out
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16
cw: modern au, chronic pain, alcohol, smoking
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 3.2k words
Remus is quiet the next day at practice. Or maybe that’s only in your head. After all, it’s not like he can just shout across the ice at you like he used to at home, not with the rink packed with a dozen other figure skaters practicing before their events today and tomorrow. Maybe it’s only easier for you to imagine he feels as confused and conflicted as you do. 
Evidently you’d been wrong about the feelings between Remus and Sirius. Or if you were right, Remus hasn’t taken notice of it himself yet. But perhaps it’s not your place to assume that you know what he wants. As you learned last night, you don’t even know what you want. 
You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been wanting to kiss Remus until he did it for you. Your mind emptied out and your body reacted like it had been waiting for years, desperate to feel him, to learn all of him, with your mouth and your hands and the press of your nose against his cheek. Your skin became more sensitive than it’s ever been under his touch. You’ve never felt more aware of your body than you are on the ice, but Remus ignited something different in you. The softest press of his hand made you want to bend and mold yourself to his liking. 
Ordinarily, you’d be desperate to tell Sirius. He’s your best friend, your partner, he’s known about every crush you’ve had since you were teenagers. But when you woke up this morning, thought about seeing him and divulging every detail from the night before, something odd and unpleasant curdled in your gut. 
You’ve never had the urge to keep secrets from Sirius before. But this, you find, you don’t want him to know. It makes you feel sick even now, going in and out of turns with him while Remus watches you both from outside the boards. Watching your best friend look at you like everything is normal, with all the trust in the world, and knowing that you’re keeping this from him. 
You feel guilty, though you don’t know why. And you don’t know if it’s for kissing Remus or for letting Remus kiss you. All you know is that suddenly whenever Sirius looks at you, you feel like you’re holding his heart in your hands, and you aren’t certain you can be trusted with it. 
“The American is looking at you,” Sirius says as you finish your routine. 
You glance behind you, catching the eyes of another skater before he looks away. Your face heats. 
“He could’ve been looking at you,” you point out. 
“Babe, there are lots of people here looking at me, but just as many with their eyes on you.” Sirius grins, slipping an arm around your waist. “We can feed the rumors that we’re together if you want to keep them from bothering you,” he says in a low voice, eyes drooping in a show of flirtation, “but don’t pretend you’re not the most gorgeous thing here.” 
Remus’ voice echoes in your head. You’re beautiful. Your heartbeat pounds. Sirius is watching you with an easy familiarity, waiting for you to either give him the go ahead or tell him to back off. The feeling of his hand on your back makes something tighten in your core, even as that strange guilt spreads through the same area like a blight. 
You swallow. “Would you be okay to run the death spiral again?” 
Sirius blinks. “Now? It’s a bit crowded for that.” 
“I think we can manage.” You move away from his arm, taking him by the hand instead. Your eyes meet Remus’ as you skate to a clear part of the rink. Maybe it’s still only your imagination, but you think he looks as distraught as you feel. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Remus feels like a piece of shit. 
He’s known about Sirius’ feelings for you since forever, but you’d looked at Remus like he was still worthy of admiration and apparently that was all it took to bring him to his knees. It felt like the worst possible betrayal of Sirius, who was finally maybe becoming his friend, and then when Remus had tried to reverse course he’d hurt you, too. 
The way you’d looked at him—surprised, wounded, uncertain. Remus had been too panicked to give you the explanation you deserved. He’d left you like that. And though you acted normal at practice today, he can tell he’s left you confused. 
Weeks of building trust with the both of you—at first unconsciously, but lately with more intention and hope—and Remus has managed to ruin it in the course of a night. You and Sirius deserve better. 
Remus wanted to be your friend—if his actions last night were any indication, part of him has wanted to be more than that—but he’ll have to make it up to you by being your coach. If he can’t do anything else, he still can get you through this competition. He’ll leave it up to you to decide if you want anything to do with him after that. 
And part of being your coach, he reasons, is making sure you get enough sleep the night before competition. He doubts you’ll want to see him again, but still Remus knocks on your door to ensure you’re getting ready for bed at a reasonable hour. His heart squeezes when you answer with your toothbrush in your mouth, those sweet pajamas of yours creased and crinkled from the night before. You’re an angel for making it easy on him, your usual smiley self as you assure Remus you’re going straight to bed and wish him a good night before shutting the door. 
Sirius’ room is only next to yours. The lights are out, which Remus takes as a good sign, but when he knocks there’s no answer. He knocks again. 
“Sirius,” he says into the doorframe. “Just say something if you’re going to sleep.” 
He waits for a groan or a resentful grumble, but there’s no sound. He knocks for a while longer. When Remus finally gets out his phone to call his charge, he listens for buzzing in the room, but he doesn’t hear it. 
Sirius picks up on the third ring. 
It takes Remus a while to find him. Sirius’ instructions were vague and convoluted, partly because he was lost himself and partly because of the way his words were slurring. Eventually Remus locates the other boy on the rooftop of a bar, Sirius’ legs dangling out over the street and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. 
Remus has to negotiate with the bar manager for a handful of minutes before he’s shown the frightening metal ladder that goes up to the roof. When he sits down beside Sirius, the first thing he does is pluck the cigarette from between his lips. 
“Oi!” Sirius turns to him. Remus sets a hand on his chest, a perhaps overcautious measure to ensure he doesn’t lean himself right off the roof. “I thought you were cool about that.” 
“Not the night before comp.” Remus steals the cig for himself, looking at Sirius over the glow of the cherry. “Did they just let you up here?” 
It takes Sirius a second to catch onto what he’s asking about. “Yeah. Why?” 
Remus shakes his head, fighting a grin. “You always get whatever you want, don’t you?” 
Sirius' laugh is short and bitter. “Not quite.” 
He turns away from Remus, and Remus’ heart sinks. For a brief, harrowing moment, he thinks, He knows. 
Sirius says to the empty night air, “Why don’t we see how we place tomorrow, and you can tell me then if I always get what I want.” 
“Oh, I see.” Remus takes another drag, relieved. “So you’ve come up here to have a pity party about things that haven’t happened yet. Have I got that right?” 
Sirius pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Remus snatches it before he can react. The other boy turns around, angry now. “Piss off, Remus.” 
“Wish that I could,” Remus says evenly, stowing the pack in his pocket, “but it’s my job to make sure you perform as well as you can tomorrow. That means working lungs and a clear head.”
Sirius sulks but doesn’t try to grab them back. He only looks out into the black night. 
“Sirius,” says Remus, “if you’re worried about whether you’re going to medal, or what medal you’re going to get, that’s pointless. You can’t control how anyone else performs or how you measure up relative to them. All you can do is give your best to your routine.” 
“Right. Is that how you thought about it as well?” 
“No,” he admits. “But you guys didn’t hire a competitive teenage prick, you hired a coach.” 
Sirius’ mouth kicks up at the corner. “I suppose that is better.” 
“I think so,” Remus agrees. He watches the other boy for a handful of moments, sensing an opening. “You know, when it comes down to it, doing your best might involve doing an actual death spiral.”
Sirius’ expression sours again, but Remus presses on. 
“I know you could do it if you wanted to. You don’t seem to want to, though. I don’t get why. At first I thought you might not trust y/n to keep herself level, but obviously you’d trust her with anything. And she trusts you to keep her there, too, so what’s the issue?” 
For a while, it seems as though Sirius might not reply. The silence is thick and heavy. He continues looking out at nothing, at the stars hidden behind thick clouds, but eventually his lips part on a sigh. 
“She trusts too easily. She shouldn’t be so sure of me.” 
Remus’ brows furrow. Something unexpected about getting to know Sirius has been learning how quickly all his brash confidence can crumble away. It’s almost never when someone else is upset with him; rather, when he’s upset with himself. Remus used to get irritated by the other boy’s bravado, but now he’s just beginning to realize how fragile it truly is. That he never needed to bring Sirius down a peg, because Sirius was almost always already doing it himself. He’s still not quite used to it.
“Let’s get back,” Remus says gently. “It’s cold up here.” 
Sirius doesn’t protest as Remus leads him downstairs, watching carefully as he climbs down the creaky ladder. On the street Sirius nearly walks into a brick wall, and Remus takes his elbow in hand to prevent it. 
“You know,” he says, “y/n was actually just telling me last night that she was worried she was going to let you down.” 
Sirius makes an appalled scoffing sound. “Her? What for?” 
“I don’t know,” Remus half fibs. “But it would probably sound equally ridiculous to her that you’re thinking the same thing about her. And from an outside perspective, it’s always seemed to me like you’re perfectly suited to each other.” 
Sirius makes a low, whiny sound. Remus startles when he pulls out of his grasp. 
“Neither of you get it.” He lists sideways. 
Remus grabs for him, getting an arm securely around Sirius’ waist. He can’t help but think that two weeks ago this sort of behavior from Sirius would have irked him, but now he only feels a bemused sort of tenderness. He doesn’t understand what Sirius is so upset about, but he can tell it’s not nothing. “Explain it,” he coaxes. 
Sirius seems almost relieved to have been pulled back. He lets himself lean into Remus’ side. “I don’t deserve her trust,” he says in a quiet, mumbly voice. “I don’t deserve any of her. I don’t know why good people like her and James and you always find me, but I’m no good at keeping you. I’ll get mean, or selfish, and you’ll see. But I can’t—” His voice thins, and Remus’ grip on him tightens unconsciously. “I can’t risk losing her. I’m going to get her hurt, and she’ll stop trusting me, and I’ll have let her down again. I can’t do it.” 
The pair walks for a while in silence. Remus can feel the shadows of deeper fears swimming underneath the ones Sirius has just divulged to him, but he’s not sure how to respond. Even during Remus’ most spectacular failures of his career, he was at least the only one who got hurt. He was never tied to anyone else, never risked anybody but himself. If he messed up, he suffered the consequences, and that was it. 
Remus holds Sirius against him as he uses his card to enter the Village. The halls are quiet, most athletes and staff having turned in for the night. 
“When I first started working with the two of you,” Remus says lowly, “I didn’t always see why y/n trusted you so much, either. You were a brilliant skater, of course, but you just seemed like such a tosser.” 
That works as intended, getting a puff of laughter out of Sirius. 
“But I knew I had to figure out a way to work with you, and she just seemed to have complete faith in you. So after a while, I just started trusting that she knew what she was doing. She knew you better than I did, of course, so I figured the two of you had an understanding I just couldn’t comprehend. And the longer I worked with you, the more I could see how she was right.
“What I’m trying to say is, it took me a while to trust you, but I came around because I trusted her. You trust her, don’t you?” 
Sirius has been quiet, but at this, he looks up as though in surprise. “Of course, yeah.” 
Remus suppresses a smile. They both fall silent as they pass by your room, eyes catching on the door you’re sleeping behind like there’s a siren’s call coming from within. Remus wonders if it’s for the same reasons. 
After Sirius lets them into his room, Remus continues softly, “So maybe you ought to give it a try. If you can’t trust yourself, trust the faith she has in you. When is she ever wrong?” 
He expects Sirius to smile at that, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for joking. His eyes are big and sad as he sits down on his bed, a quiet sort of asking in them. 
“I think she could be wrong about this,” he says in a near whisper. 
Remus’ throat aches with sympathy. He crouches by Sirius’ feet, ignoring the protests of his hip to start taking off the other boy’s shoes. 
“She’s not,” he says. “She’s just smarter than the both of us. You’re loyal, and brave, and kind. She’s always known that, but it took me a while to catch on.”
“I’m not.” Sirius sounds almost desperate. 
Remus doesn’t back down. “You are.” Frustration and tenderness war inside him. He sets his hands on Sirius’ knees, looking him in the eyes. “Why would I lie to you?” 
A look comes over Sirius face, peculiar only in the moment before Remus recognizes it. He’s seen Sirius look that way a thousand times. At you. 
Remus’ heart thumps. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Remus’ thumb strokes over his thigh, and Sirius’ heart does something abhorrent behind his ribs
“Sirius.” Amber eyes look into his, warm and earnest and unrelenting. “Why would I lie?” 
Sirius began to sober up as soon as Remus called him earlier tonight. He’d started drinking to try and rid himself of that pesky, familiar feeling of derealization that had taken hold, but he’d stopped then. Paid his tab and gone up to the roof, where in the cool air Sirius had the powerful, frightening urge to wait for Remus and tell him everything about himself. Tell him every last terrible thing and see if he flinched. 
Only he hadn’t flinched. He’d taken Sirius home, whatever drunkenness was left lost on the wind during the walk, and taken his shoes off for him, and told him in various words that he was worth something. 
And now Remus is rubbing the sides of his knees. And his hands are gentle and so are his eyes, and his expression says that he believes it, that Sirius is worth something, and Sirus thinks, Fuck it. 
If it goes poorly, he can say tomorrow that he was drunk and doesn’t remember a thing.
Sirius mashes his lips into Remus’. 
A hoarse sound tears from somewhere inside Remus. He pushes against Sirius’ mouth, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pressing him backwards onto the bed. The mattress is hard and the frame creaks under their combined weight, Remus’ hand finding Sirius’ throat and wrapping around it like an embrace. 
Sirius flips them over. Remus lets him, reclining back against the pillow propped along the wall and tugging Sirius closer like someone’s going to rip him away. He tastes like chocolate and cigarettes. A low whine rises in Sirius’ throat. 
Remus’ hands loosen their grip. “Wait.” 
“No,” Sirius pleads. 
“Aren’t you….” Remus pants. He pulls their lips apart but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Sirius’. “I’m confused. I thought you had feelings for y/n.” 
Sirius sucks in a breath. “You know about that?” 
A quiet, nervous chuckle. “Yeah, love. But you’ve just kissed me, so…I suppose I’m wondering what that means.” 
Sirius’ heart trembles. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know.” 
“It’s alright.” Remus’ voice is a balm. He kisses Sirius once, a soft peck. “What do you feel?” 
Sirius opens his eyes and finds Remus watching him. The other boy’s forehead sits a bit higher than his, so Sirius has to tilt his gaze up, feeling cracked open and wretched. 
“I don’t know,” he says again, softer. “Is it bad to want both?” 
There’s a brief pause. Remus’ brow creases slightly. “I don’t think so,” he replies. “But I have to tell you something.” 
Sirius takes his forehead away from Remus’, putting a couple of inches between them. “Go on, then.” 
“Last night, I kissed y/n.” 
Sirius braces himself to hide a reaction, but there’s nowhere to hide from Remus’ perceptive gaze and after a moment, Sirius finds there’s not much reaction to hide anyway. He doesn’t feel upset. The idea of Remus kissing you is…well, it’s not unlike hearing him call you pet names or watching him touch you. Sirius doesn’t wish that Remus hadn’t done it, only that he’d been there as well. He does sort of wish that he’d gotten to kiss both of you first, though. 
“I stopped it as soon as my head caught up to me,” Remus goes on. He seems to be studying Sirius, though Sirius has no clue what he might find. “I felt really awful for doing it when I knew you had feelings for her, but now that you’ve said that, I think I might have feelings for both of you, too.” 
“Brilliant.” Sirius’ heart is hammering, but he does his best to make his voice sound unaffected. “Then what do we do now?” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You stumble out of bed half-awake. You’re not even entirely sure if someone’s knocked on your door or if you’ve dreamed it, but your feet propel you there with urgency nonetheless. You rub your eyes as you open it, mouth stretching with a yawn. 
Sirius and Remus are standing outside, both rumpled but still in their daytime clothes. Their pupils are blown and lips wet and swollen. 
“We were wondering,” says Remus, slightly breathlessly, “if you might have a moment.”
641 notes · View notes
v1si0n · 2 months ago
Text
JUST GIVE ME A REASON (J.JH)🪐
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SUMMARY: you didn’t think think you could possibly hate performing at your schools spring showcase until you were paired up with your mortal enemy, Jung Jaehyun. but you guys are singing a love song, and god knows what love songs do to youngins like you.
GENRE: enemies(ish) to lovers , college au, performance arts majors! y/n and jaehyun, humor, fluff, tiny bit of angst, lovers in denial but its just y/n LMFAO
WARNINGS: profanity, jokes about death, inaccurate depictions of performance arts majors, jaehyun and y/n are constantly at each others necks but in a kinda cute way…?
NOTES: AHHHHHH my first actual written piece!!!! i’ve had this fic partially finished for a LONG ass time and i’m finally releasing it for you lovelies to read💗💗💗hope you love it as much as i do :)
WORD COUNT: 15.5k
TAGLIST: @shiningnono @stickwme2 @mmjhh1998 @bluedbliss @peachfulnight
♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪
its in the stars
it’s been written in the scars on our hearts
When Mark Lee told you that Professor Kim would choose the pairs for this year's talent show, you believed it wouldn’t be too bad.
You were wrong. So humiliatingly wrong.
There you were, staring at the bulletin board outside the classroom, shocked and angry to your very core. You read the line with your name over and over again hoping, praying, that it was somehow a typo.
“Jung Jaehyun?! He paired me with Jaehyun?” You shrieked, your best friends Mark and Donghyuck snickering from beside you.
“Hey, he’s a pretty good singer,” Mark nudges you. You glare at him and he holds his hands up in defense.
“He’s a dick is what he is, Mark! You can’t possibly tell me you still like him after what he did to me,” You huff. Mark is scared to answer, but much to his delight, Professor Kim steps out of the classroom to greet students.
“Ah, Y/N! I take it that you’ve seen who I partnered you up with,” he smiles.
“Prof, can I please switch? I’ll perform with anyone else just not him,” you plead and he laughs directly in your face.
“Nope. No changing or switching partners.”
Your eye twitches.
“Prof-“ Your voice is scarily low, and this cues Mark and Hyuck to whisk you into the classroom.
“I’ll kill him, I swear,” you grumble.
“Listen bub, just stick with it for this performance. Three weeks of rehearsal and two nights of performances. You can do that,” Hyuck says gently, patting your head in an attempt to calm you down.
You mumble a “fine” under your breath and make your way to your seat. You stare blankly as the students pile into the lecture hall, one of them being the one and only Jung Jaehyun himself. He catches your eye and smirks, obviously having seen the list outside the classroom. You see him stray away from his original seat, making a beeline for the empty seat next to you that you use to hold your bag.
“Hyuck, switch seats with me,” You slap his arm repeatedly.
“What? No, I always sit in the middle,” He brushes you off as he takes out his laptop.
“Mark?”
“Sur- Actually, I think I’m good,” He smirks.
You look at him in confusion and realize he’s watching Jaehyun as he approaches you. He taps Hyuck to alert him, and now they’re both laughing under their breaths. You make a mental note to get new friends.
Jaehyun is now standing in the aisle, beaming at you with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face.
“Hey partner, mind moving the bag?”
“The seats taken,”
“No, it’s not, just move your bag.”
“I don’t want to,”
“Y/N-”
“Here! I’ll take your bag my sweet,” Hyuck pipes up from next to you. You stare at him in horror as he takes your bag and winks at you, placing the bag under his feet.
“Thank you, Donghyuck,” Jaehyun smiles and plops himself down next to you.
“Of course Jaehyun! Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of ours,” Mark quips, and you burrow your head in your hands with a groan.
You’re banging your head repeatedly on the table as the boys begin talking about the upcoming performance, and you silently pray to yourself that God would take you out at this very moment.
“Aw, don’t act like that, partner! We’re gonna have so much fun.”
Jaehyun puts his arm around you and pulls you closer to him, causing you to thrash around and accidentally elbow Hyuck in the chest. A loud groan is heard throughout the lecture hall and everyone turns to look at him, and Mark offers an apologetic smile.
“Donghyuck and Y/N. Let’s keep quiet back there, yeah?”
You both mumble apologies to Professor Kim and glare at each other. Mark shushes both of you and points toward the front of the class, and you direct your attention to the screen. The words “SPRING SHOWCASE” glare back at you in ugly bold letters.
“Students! As you all know, the spring showcase is only a month away. This year, the music department and I have decided to assign partners rather than letting you choose, as to avoid constant repeats.” (READ: Mark and Hyuck high-five under the table.)
A chorus of complaints is heard throughout the lecture hall, the loudest being you, Mark, and Hyuck. The Spring Showcase was your guys’ favourite time of the year because it meant you three doing what you love most together, then getting to show it to the entire school.
“Prof! The whole point of the spring showcase is to showcase our talents! What if we’re paired with people we don’t work well with?!” You exclaim, and Jaehyun scoffs next to you.
“Yeah, Prof! What if our partner constantly has a stick up her as-“
“Funny! Considering the fact that during the winter showcase the microphone stand actually almost went up your a-”
“That was the tech crew's fault! I didn’t know the mic would rise so soon!”
“Let's avoid talking about such things in the classroom, please.” Professor Kim pipes up. You both roll your eyes at each other and you feel Donghyuck pat your head again.
For the next hour, you’re pretty sure Professor Kim is probably mentioning crucial information about the spring showcase, but all you could think about was the living nuisance that was Jeong Jaehyun. His very presence next to you was driving you up the wall and knowing that you would have to see him every day for a month straight made your face feel hot with rage.
“That’s it for today's class! All pairs must submit their songs by the end of the week! Group rehearsals start as soon as every pair has submitted their song choice.”
Students start slowly trickling out of the lecture hall as others linger around to talk to friends. You slump down into your seat and stare into the distance, Mark and Donghyuck making small talk with Jaehyun as they pack their bags.
“Y/N? Are you listening?” Mark nudges your shoulder gently. You shake your head, still staring off into the distance.
“We said let’s go grab lunch near campus,” Hyuck holds your bag out for you.
“How can you even eat in this situation?” You sigh dramatically.
Your friends roll their eyes at you, while Jaehyun smiles, almost contently, at your misery. He puts a hand on your shoulder, causing you to scowl and turn your head to look at him.
“I’ll see you guys later. I’ll be waiting for your text partner,” He winks at you and you make a face.
“Please run in front of a bus.”
“Only if you’re next to me!” He calls out as he leaves the lecture hall.
You decide right then and there that it wouldn’t be too bad if you were sentenced to death row.
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
Fridays usually meant two things for you and your friends: One, the canteen would be serving ice cream, and two, all of your classes ended early.
With that being said, it became a tradition for you three to meet after class at your designated table in the canteen with your respective ice cream cups in hand. However, this Friday was a little different.
“Is that Y/N I see?”
You’re picking at Donghyucks ice cream when you hear an aggravating voice shout from across the room. You cower in your seat out of embarrassment, your friends snickering at the boy desperately trying to get your attention. He rushes over and slides into the seat across from you.
“Y/N? My dearest partner?”
“What the hell do you want, Jaehyun?” you say through gritted teeth.
“Aw, did our sweet little princess Y/N not get enough sleep?” He reaches over to pat your head and you swat his hand away. “Did you think about what song you wanted to do with me?”
“Just give me a reason,” you mumble with a mouthful of ice cream.
“Um, for the showcase? For an honors student, you’re kinda dumb, babe.”
You choke on your ice cream and Mark stifles a laugh from beside you.
“The song. Just Give Me A Reason by P!nk and Nate Ruess.”
Jaehyuns smirk falters. The tips of his ears glow red as Donghyuck stares at him with judgment written all over his sunkissed features.
“Yeah, right.” He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he searches for a comeback. “Bit of a hard song for you, no?”
“Worry about yourself and your pre-pubescent voice cracks,” You state calmly, not having to look at him to know you struck a chord.
“That happened-“ He shouts, lowering his voice upon realizing he was getting stares from the people around him, “years ago. My throat was dry.”
“It was last year,” Mark states, earning a pointed glare from Jaehyun.
“Whatever!” He throws his hands up in exasperation and stands up to leave.
“So that’s a yes?” You call after him as he walks away from the table, and he flips you off in return. You take that as a yes.
“Good song choice for you guys to fall in love,” Hyuck mumbles as he licks his spoon clean.
“Pardon?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“A love song for lovebirds. Good one,” He says almost matter of factly, and you look around the cafeteria.
“Are the lovebirds in the room with us?”
“He’s not wrong, you know. Every boy/girl duo that has done a love song ended up in a relationship within 24 hours of the showcase,” Mark points his spoon around as he talks.
“You guys seriously believe that? It’s just Music Department superstition, nothing else to it.”
You swirl your spoon inside your cup of melted chocolate ice cream as you ponder. You vaguely recall the buzz around the two seniors last year who kissed on stage after their duet.
“I can’t believe you’d call it superstition! It’s deep rooted lore thats an important part of our history as music students!” Donghyuck exaggerates.
You roll your eyes as he begins his deep dive into the stories surrounding your department. As he nears the end of his rambling, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn.
“Yes, Soojin?” You muster a smile as you look at the girl in front of you.
Kang Soojin. Your campuses day one it girl and the bane of your existence. To be fair, you would’ve never had a problem with her had she been a decent human being towards you from the start, but for some unknown reason you found yourself bearing the brunt of her hatred since highschool.
“Why was Jae just talking to you?” Her high-pitched voice pierces your ears and you wince.
“Who?”
“Jaehyun? Jung Jaehyun? Don’t act stupid,” She snaps.
“Oh, he’s my partner for the spring showcase. He was asking what song we should do,” You blink at her.
“Try not to stick around him too much. You’ll rub off on him and I don’t need that,” She snickers before turning on her heel and walking away.
You’re left absolutely flabbergasted, processing her words before turning to your friends with your mouth agape.
“What the fuck?” You whisper, struggling to come to terms with what just happened.
“She does not play about Jaehyun,” Mark lets out a low whistle.
“Why is she talking to me like I want to be around him? I was literally forced into this,” You huff.
“Wait, hold on,” Hyuck starts, hands beckoning you and Mark to come closer. “You guys know Johnny? I heard him telling Doyoung that Jaehyun rejected Soojin in front of all her friends on Valentine's Day. She cried and everything.”
“What an asshole. No wonder why the poor girl is always pissy,” You mumble.
“Maybe she’s pissy towards you because her man wants you,” Mark wiggles his eyebrows and you make a face.
“Ew, no. Never put that into the universe,” You shake your finger at him.
“You won’t be saying that after the spring showcase,” Hyuck sings, licking the last bit of ice cream off his spoon.
You mumble profanities under your breath and narrow your eyes at the boy in front of you, but a tinge of anxiety bubbles in your stomach. As sure as you were that you could never possibly develop feelings for Jaehyun, you truly don’t know what could happen after spending that much time together.
You shudder. You can’t afford to spiral too deep into your thoughts right now, especially in front of Mark and Donghyuck who watch your every reaction like hawks. You let out a fake cough in an attempt to regain composure.
“So, what should we get for lunch?”
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
your head is running wild again
my dear, we still have everything
Your first week of rehearsals with Jaehyun was nothing short of a nightmare.
His incessant teasing and nitpicking had begun to drive you up the wall, and quite frankly you don’t think you’ve ever been closer to crashing out.
“Professor! Y/N won’t act like she’s in love with me and it’s ruining the stage chemistry!” Jaehyun calls out from the stage, much like a fifth grader snitching to their teacher.
It was a Friday evening in the auditorium where your class had been rehearsing for the spring showcase. You and Jaehyun had barely finished singing before his features were taken over by his stupid signature smirk and he asked to stop the song.
“Um, while I don’t believe she needs to pretend to be in love with you, I do believe you are lacking a bit of emotion, Y/N. This is a love song, and well, you don’t exactly look too pleased to be sharing the stage with Jaehyun,” Professor Kim articulates carefully, looking at you expectantly as if he could see the impending breakdown written all over your features.
You offer a tight-lipped smile to your professor, knowing that he was right but you could not, for the life of you, muster a smile in Jaehyun’s presence. “Can another pair go now? I need a minute.”
Professor Kim nods and you quickly walk off, stomping backstage and down the stairs before beelining for the auditorium exit. You push the doors open and step into the corridor, huffing out a breath as you try to collect yourself.
“Great, this is the perfect spot for us to practice,” Jaehyun pipes up from behind you as he shuts the door.
“God, why did you follow me?” You groan, making the mistake of turning around just in time for him to run right into you, “Ever heard of personal space?”
“I’m practicing,” He shrugs, not budging from his spot. You attempt to take a step back but he steps forward, and you swear you were on the verge of a psychotic break.
“Jaehyun, if you don’t step the fuck back-“
“You need to be better at pretending that you love me, so I’m helping you,” He remarks, his smirk widening at the way your face flushes.
“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t need your help,” You put both hands on his chest to push him away, but your efforts prove to be useless when he grabs both of your wrists with one hand and tugs them down.
You can feel the embarrassment start to settle in at the realization that Jaehyun was definitely trying to get a reaction out of you right now, and it was definitely working in his favor. Each step you took back, he took forward, his hand still holding onto your wrists.
“Now if I’m not mistaken,” He pauses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, stepping forward and effectively trapping you against the wall of the corridor, “I think you have a little crush on me, sweetheart.”
You try to rack your brain for any sort of comeback, but all that comes out of you is a weak scoff, “You are mistaken.”
Jaehyun chuckles darkly at your weak argument, the sound sending chills up your spine as you press yourself impossibly closer to the wall.
“Is that so? Is that why you can’t even look me in the eye right now?” He lowers his head so that you’re both face to face, and your cheeks burn a bright red when you indeed can’t meet his scrutinizing glare.
“That’s what I thought,” He scoffs, releasing your hands in favor or pressing both of his against the wall behind you, efficiently caging you in between his arms. “Tell me sweetheart, why do you keep pretending that you hate me?”
The question catches you off guard, your brows furrowing at the accusation that was just thrown at you. You manage to regain your composure for long enough to speak up, “What makes you think I’m pretending?”
“Just a feeling I have,” He shrugs, “and maybe because I let both of your hands go for quite some time now and you have yet to push me away. Would you like to tell me why that is?”
You look down at both of your hands and back up at him, heat rushing up your neck and painting your cheeks a scarlet hue. You shove his chest and let out an exhale when you’re free from the confines of his arms. You mentally curse yourself for standing there gawking at him like an idiot instead of pushing away sooner.
“Both of our lives would be much easier if you admitted it, Y/N,” He sing-songs from behind you, his voice giving away the obvious smirk that was plastered on his face.
“Admitted what?” You turn around with your arms crossed.
“That you like our little game. That you don’t hate me like you want everyone to believe,” He states simply, tucking his hands into his pants pocket.
Something about the way he was so sure of himself almost convinced you that he was right, that maybe you put on this act because there was something ugly and complex buried beneath the surface. Before you can allow your thoughts to consume the space between you and Jaehyun, you shake your head to get rid of them completely.
“You’re delusional,” You mumble weakly, turning to walk back into the auditorium. You can hear Jaehyun’s laugh from behind you and you grimace, quickly walking back to your spot where Mark and Donghyuck look at you with taunting eyes.
“So…you and Jaehyun took quite some time outside. Mind sharing with the class what you two did that has you looking like that?” Hyuck rests his chin in the palm of his hand as he tilts his head curiously at you.
“Looking like what?” You frantically smooth a hand over your hair, uselessly tugging at your top as you try to remain presentable.
“Let’s see. Red cheeks, shaky hands, glossy eyes, and,” Mark pauses to lean in closer to you, inhaling briefly before he nods and pulls away with a hum, “You smell like him.”
Your eyes widen as you bring your arm up to your nose, cursing when the familiar scent of Jaehyun’s cologne tickles your nostrils. “It’s not what you think, we just talked.”
Donghyuck furrows his eyebrows with a slight pout, rubbing his chin in mock thought. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong Mark, but talking to someone usually doesn’t end up with you smelling like them. Am I correct?”
“I’m afraid you are correct, Donghyuck. I’m curious, Y/N. Do you usually go home smelling like one of us after we’ve talked?” Mark prods, and you groan, running a hand over your face in frustration as your friends continue to tease you.
As Mark and Donghyuck continue their unrelenting jokes beside you, your eyes flicker towards Jaehyun’s form as he walks back into the auditorium with his hands in his pockets. His eyes catch yours and his lips immediately curl into a smirk, his left eye dropping to a wink as he regards you with a hint of amusement on his features.
Despite the way you narrow your eyes at him, your body almost doesn’t allow you to look away from him even after his eyes refocus on your professor. Your eyes trail from his eyes to his nose, stopping involuntarily at his lips as he rubs them together. You’re entranced by the way his tongue darts out to wet the surface, and you grow more frustrated by the second at the way the beating of your heart betrays the nagging in your brain that tells you to look away.
For a second, you’re almost convinced he’s doing this on purpose, putting on a show because he knows you’re watching, and your suspicions are confirmed when he turns his head to the side to look at you, his smirk resurfacing when he notices the way your eyes remain on him.
You will yourself to look away, clearing your throat as you try to calm the drumming in your chest. You straighten your posture in the uncomfortable wooden seat before your phone vibrates in your lap and you try to look down at it without drawing Mark or Hyuck’s attention.
jaehyun: still denying it?
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
you’re not broken just bent
and we can learn to love again
Monday mornings were on the long list of things you didn’t like.
It was the only day out of the week that you had a 9 AM class, and to make matters worse you shared that class with none other than the anti-christ himself.
“Psst. Y/N,” Jaehyun whispers from the seat behind you.
You rub at your temples and take a deep breath, doing your best to remain calm and not commit aggravated assault.
As your professor walks in, you turn to get your laptop out of your bag, only to notice it wasn’t hanging on the back of your seat where you left it. You turn to the boy behind you with a pointed glare, and your eyes flick down to your bag in his lap.
“Jaehyun,” You warn.
“Y/N,” He mocks your tone.
“Give it back,” You reach over to grab your bag but he leans back to avoid your touch.
“Why should I?” He teases.
You pinch the bridge of your nose to ease the headache that was forming. “You’re holding my bag and you’re asking me why I need it back?”
“Tell me what you need and I can give it to you,” A taunting smile makes its way onto his face and you feel your composure slowly slipping.
“Jaehyun, I swear to fucking God if you don’t-“
“Alright students, let’s begin our lesson for today. I need all eyes to the front,” Your professor's voice cuts through the room and you clench your jaw.
“You probably need your laptop, don’t you?” Jaehyun jeers, pulling your laptop out and waving it in front of your face. You start to wonder what you did in your past life to deserve this kind of karma.
You grab the laptop from his hands before he can change his mind, turning your attention toward the powerpoint that’s projected onto the screen.
As your professor carries through the lesson, you type your notes fervently to keep up with his words. Your laptop dings and a notification pops up in the corner, causing your eyes to divert from the powerpoint to your screen. Your face sours when you see Jaehyun trying to Airdrop something to you, and you quickly hit decline before refocusing on your professor. You’re only able to regain your focus for a few seconds before another ding catches your attention. You decline the Airdrop request, pulling out your phone and typing out a rather angry message to the idiot behind you.
you: can you stop being annoying im actually trying to pay attention
jaehyun: you’re texting me🥺🥺🥺
jaehyun: what’d you save my name as ;)
you: jaehyun ???????
jaehyun: no heart emojis ?? wheres the love ;(
you: there is none
you: now leave me the FUCK alone or you won’t make it home after class
jaehyun: just accept the airdrop i promise you won’t regret it :))
You roll your eyes at the message before a notification pops up on your phone that makes your jaw drop. It was an Airdrop request from Jaehyun, your screen showing a picture of him standing in the mirror shirtless with his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. You ogle for longer than you’d like to admit, your eyes scanning the dips of his abs and the way his hip bones peek out from the waistband of his sweats. You shake yourself out of your daze, tapping the screen rapidly to decline the request. You see a message from Jaehyun pop up.
jaehyun: like what you see baby?
You peek over your shoulder with your face twisted in disgust and Jaehyun winks at you.
you: not in the slightest
You shut your phone off and put it face down on your desk, attempting to return your attention towards the lesson in front of you, but much to your dismay your mind reels with thoughts of the picture Jaehyun had sent you. The image he sent sears itself into your brain and your heart beats a little quicker against your own will. You clench your teeth in anger that you could only really direct at yourself and the way your mind has begun to waver when it comes to Jaehyun, the line between hatred and something thats definitely not that blurring more as the days go by.
“That’s it for today! Enjoy the rest of your week and I’ll see you next Monday,” Your professor's voice brings you out of your daze, your eyes darting around as if you were afraid that anyone could read your thoughts.
“Still thinking about it?” Jaehyun’s lips are dangerously close to the shell of your ear and you jump in your seat.
“Personal space, Jaehyun, Jesus fucking Christ,” You pant with a hand on your chest.
“Seems like you were a little distracted. Penny for your thoughts?” He teases, leaning his arms on the back of your chair as you gather your belongings.
“Thinking about ways to get rid of your body,” You mutter, reaching out to grab your bag but he holds his arm above his head.
“Not so fast, sweetheart,” He tuts. “Walk with me to my next class.”
“What’s with you today? Did you wake up this morning and decide that making me miserable was your goal?” You question.
“Just feeling a little lonely,” He shrugs, and you try to search his features for any signs of humor, your lips turning down into a frown when you realize he wasn’t joking.
“Oh,” You trail off, feeling a strange tug at your heart when he looks at you expectantly. “Whatever. Lead the way.”
He bounces on the balls of his feet before exiting the classroom with you in tow. He walks towards the glass doors that lead to the courtyard and you stop abruptly.
“Is your class in another building?” You quirk a brow.
“Yeah, something like that,” He smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as he turns back around and you continue to trail behind him.
You follow him as he walks off campus and eventually into the school's parking lot, your eyes narrowing at the back of his head as you stop in your tracks.
“You don’t have another class today, do you?” You stand with a hand on your hip as he turns around scratching his neck.
“Not really,” He laughs sheepishly, “but I need to ask you for a favor.”
“You couldn’t just ask me after class? You had to lie to me and practically kidnap me?” You look at him bewildered.
“I wanted to ask you in private,” He frowns.
“We’re in an open parking lot, Jaehyun.”
He looks around, suddenly realizing that there are students bustling around the parking lot. The tips of his ears burn a bright red as you run a hand through your hair in exasperation.
“Okay, whatever, I’ll just ask you. I need you to be my date for the sports banquet this Friday.”
You tilt your head quizzically, eyebrows furrowing as you look at the boy in front of you,“You’re joking, right?” You laugh.
“I’m serious,” He winces when your laugh trails off, shutting his eyes as if expecting you to freak out any moment now.
“Of all the people you know, you decided to ask me? What gave you the impression that this would be a good idea?” You question him slowly.
“I-okay hear me out. I needed a date and I can’t ask any of the girls I know because A. I’ve hooked up with some of them and B. they were already asked by my other friends and I can’t be the only one without a date Y/N, that shit is so embarrassing-”
“Okay, stop,” You hold a hand up to cut off his rambling and he quickly closes his mouth.
You ponder for a moment as you stare at Jaehyun, who shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he looks down at the ground. You’ve never seen him this nervous, his hands fidgeting with the keychains hanging from your bag that he’s still holding and his foot tapping on the ground. You don’t know what takes over you as you clear your throat to speak up.
“You owe me,” You mumble.
His eyes widen as he stares at you, expecting you to laugh in his face and say you were kidding, but when that never comes a smile slowly spreads across his features.
“You’re serious, right? Seriously serious? You can’t take it back- actually, I’m going to RSVP for the both of us right now,” He pulls out his phone and types quickly, and you find his excitement rather endearing. You catch yourself smiling and your face drops.
When the fuck did Jung Jaehyun become endearing to you?
You snatch your bag away from him as he types on his phone. “Text me the details. I’m going home,” You stammer, frantically swinging your bag over your shoulder and turning around.
“Wait, I can drive you!” He calls after you but you wave your hand in dismissal, pulling up your recent calls on your phone and tapping on the first name on the list as you speed walk away from Jaehyun.
“Donghyuck. You and Mark at my apartment tonight. I’ve lost my fucking mind.”
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
you stole my heart
and i, your willing victim
“And then I said yes! Like a fucking loser with no ounce of dignity, I said yes! Is that not the craziest, most batshit insane thing I’ve ever done?”
Mark and Donghyuck are currently sat at your kitchen island, distractedly munching on the array of snacks you put out for them as you debrief them on the events that had occurred earlier in the day.
“I had absolutely no reason to say yes. But it's like, he looked so nervous and I felt bad? Why the fuck did I feel bad?!” You huff angrily, squinting your eyes at your best friends when you notice them wordlessly chewing.
“Hello? A little bit of engagement would be appreciated, guys,” You wave a hand in front of their faces.
“Do you have juice or something? These chips are dry as fuck,” Donghyuck gets up to sift through your fridge.
“Are you even listening to me? Mark, what do you think?” You shift your attention to the glasses-wearing boy in front of you.
“I think,” He hums, staring off into the distance as he chews slowly on a tortilla chip, “that these chips need dip. Pass me the guac, Hyuck.”
“Mark!” You whine, your friend putting his hands up in defense as he takes the container of guacamole from Donghyuck.
“Bub, you’re not gonna like what we say so I don’t think there's any point in us saying it,” Donghyuck shrugs, sipping on the bottle of iced tea he took from your fridge.
“Anything is better than nothing. I’m all ears,” You push your hair behind your ears and motion for them to continue.
“I think you did it because you have feelings for him,” Hyuck states matter of factly and Mark draws his lips into a thin line while nodding.
“Wrong. Next,” You dismiss, the boys in front of you shrugging at your denial.
“Okay, next is he probably likes you too,” Mark points out.
“Even more wrong. Can we start being realistic please?” You plead, groaning when your friends shake their heads.
“Think about it! That man knows more women than you know people-“
“Okay, rude-“
“Yet he chose the one girl who, allegedly, hates him and isn’t trying to hop on his dick. He is very obviously into you, or at the very least he’s interested.”
Donghyuck’s hands are on his hips now, Mark nodding enthusiastically along to every word.
“Amen, brother,” Mark raises his hand in praise.
You roll your eyes at the two boys, scowling at the thought of any potential feelings involving Jaehyun.
“It was because he hooked up with all of them already and they all hate him!” You defend yourself. Mark and Donghyuck share a look.
“Is that what he told you?” Mark quirks a brow.
“Yes.”
Your friends share another series of knowing looks, smirks slowly adorning their features as your eyes bounce between them in confusion.
“Stop looking at each other and speak!” You shout impatiently.
“Jung Jaehyun, notorious non hooker-upper, told you that he hooked up with so many women that he’s out of options? That’s funny,” Hyuck snorts.
You blink, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you process the words you just heard.
“What are you talking about?” You ask.
“Oh poor little Y/N. So caught up in her own little world that she doesn’t know any campus gossip,” Mark rounds the corner of your kitchen island and swings an arm around your shoulders, ruffling your hair gently.
“What gossip?” You swat him off.
“Bub, Jaehyun doesn’t do hook ups. He has not hooked up with a single girl on campus, especially not the ones who throw themselves at him every single day like Soojin.”
You tilt your head to the side as the gears in your brain start turning. You could have sworn you heard stories of his fuckboy antics, his friend group being known throughout campus for having an ongoing hookup counter.
“Johnny and Yuta fuck anything that moves. I don’t doubt he’s the same way,” You laugh nervously, anxiety bubbling in your stomach at the way your friends study your reactions.
“His whole schtick is that he’s different from his friends. That’s why he’s such a babe magnet,” Mark sighs defeatedly and Donghyuck pats his shoulder in mock sympathy.
You let the information marinate for a second, the fuckboy image you’ve built of Jung Jaehyun slowly coming crashing down as you pick apart every rumor you’ve ever heard.
“Look at her face, you can tell she’s realizing she was wrong about him,” Donghyuck murmurs to Mark, breaking you from your train of thoughts.
“I-I’m-I wasn’t wrong! The rumors had to start from somewhere!” Your argument comes out weakly, making Mark and Donghyuck shake their heads in disapproval.
“See, now she’s denying reality. Poor thing,” Mark fake cries into Hyuck’s shoulder.
“Guys!” You whine.
“Alright, alright we’re just joking. But in all seriousness, sooner or later you’re gonna have to accept the fact that he’s not a bad guy and if you weren’t so dead set on hating him for something he did when he was in highschool, you’d probably be jumping his bones because lets face it, the sexual tension between you two is suffocating, and everyone loves a good enemies to lovers.”
You gawk at Donghyuck as he sips from his bottle calmly.
“I’m not gonna lie Y/N, for lack of better wording, he ate you up with that,” Mark pipes up after a beat of silence.
“I’m-you-whatever! I’m going to my room, don’t wreck my place,” You mumble as you retreat back towards your bedroom.
“We’re sleeping over!” Hyuck calls after you and you wave a dismissive hand in the air, knowing all too well that they knew your apartment like the backs of their hands.
When you reach the solace of your bedroom, you shut the door softly as your friends begin to argue over what movie to watch for the night. Your thoughts dizzy you as you slowly crawl on top of your sheets and hug a pillow close to your chest.
You wanted to believe that Jaehyun was a liar and that he somehow was able to trick your friends into believing he was a good guy. You wanted so desperately to believe that you were right, and that your long lived hatred for him has always been valid.
You think back to highschool, the teenage angst and awkwardness of it all making you cringe internally as you reminisce. As if it happened days ago, the image of you and Jaehyun on the bleachers during field day remains vivid in your mind. Every detail is burned into your memory; the way the wind felt, the sound of the students laughter that rang throughout the field, and even more specifically the way Jaehyun’s cheeks were tinted a light pink as he spoke to you.
“Are you saying that you, Jung Jaehyun, haven’t had your first kiss yet and we’re in our senior year?” You arch your brow at him, shifting the lollipop in your mouth to the side as you peer at him curiously.
“Oh, come on, don’t act all high and mighty. You haven’t had yours either!” He exclaims with a finger pointed at you. You shush him with a hand over his mouth, and he puts his hands up in mock surrender.
“That’s a different story! You..you’re Jung Jaehyun. Literally all the girls in our graduating class have dreamt about kissing you since freshmen year. You got the most cheers at the talent show last year even though you looked dumb as fuck singing ‘All I Want For Christmas is You’ in that Rudolph sweater,” You snort at the memory as the tips of Jaehyun’s ears are painted scarlet.
“Just because I allegedly have options, doesn’t mean I want any of them to be my first kiss,” He huffs, “And look who’s talking! We’re in the same boat, you know.”
You narrow your eyes at him scrutinizingly, “What are you talking about? If I had guys throwing themselves at me, maybe I would have had my first kiss by now.”
“What about Mark or Donghyuck? I’m surprised neither of them have asked you out yet.”
“Ew, what? They’re my best friends,” You look out onto the field where Mark is currently chasing Donghyuck with an inflatable flamingo in his hands. “I could never date them. And I’m almost certain Hyuck has already kissed Mark at some point.”
Jaehyun raises his eyebrows at the information he just heard, shrugging his shoulders as he watches your best friends with you. “Besides them. It’s hard to believe you don’t have guys throwing themselves at you. You’re…not ugly.”
It was your turn to blush at his bold statement, your hands instinctively coming up to tousle your hair shyly, “Same goes for you…I guess.”
Theres an awkward tension in the air as you two avoid eye contact with each other, opting to look out onto the field where Mark now has Donghyuck in a headlock. After a few moments of suffocating silence between you two, Jaehyun speaks up.
“What if we were each others first kiss?”
You choke on your own spit at his words, coughing erratically as you clap a hand over your chest in an attempt to stop. When you manage to catch your breath, you look at him in bewilderment, searching his eyes for any signs of humor but finding none.
“Are you serious?”
“Why not? We both haven’t had ours yet, and it’d be better than losing our first kiss to a stranger,” He shrugs a little too nonchalantly at the suggestion, and your face twists even more in confusion.
You stare at him for a moment as you think about his suggestion, his logic making more sense than you’d like to admit. You become increasingly aware of the butterflies in your stomach and the drumming in your chest as you continue to stare at him, and you force yourself to look away as you clear your throat.
“I guess it’s not a bad idea,” You mumble, and you hear him let out a breath.
“Great. Meet me in front of the vending machines in 15 minutes,” He shoots you a wink before getting up from his spot next to you and walking off the field, your eyes following his movements as he disappears from your line of vision.
You look down at the digital watch on your arm, watching as a minute passes, then five, then ten. When the fifteen minutes have passed you stand from your seat, taking in a deep breath before walking in the same direction that Jaehyun went. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as you near the vending machines and you wipe your clammy palms on your pants before you round the corner, your mouth opening in shock as you watch the scene that unfolds before you.
There, in front of the vending machines, stood Jung Jaehyun with his back facing you, and a rather happy looking Kang Soojin with her lips attached to his.
You don’t waste another second before you stomp away from the two of them, your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you angrily wipe away the stray tear that made its way down your cheek. You mentally curse yourself for getting your hopes up in the first place, the excited buzz you felt earlier being replaced with an overwhelming sense of stupidity. You let out a bitter laugh.
You suppose you were quite the idiot for believing that someone like Jaehyun could ever make space for someone like you in his heart.
A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you recall the events that happened that day and you shudder, urging your brain to think about anything else so you could bury that memory.
The moment of him asking you to the sports banquet pops into your head, the genuine excited glimmer in his eyes when you said yes still fresh in your memory making you sigh. As easy as it was to accept the rumors as truth, the way your friends spoke of him riddled your head with uncertainty. He was one of the few people you could never read, and if you were honest you found yourself thinking about him lately, more often than you’d like to admit.
You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, physically trying to rid your brain of Jaehyun. You open your bedroom door to the sounds of what you could only assume to be Despicable Me and you smile, knowing it was Mark’s idea and Donghyuck was probably pouting on your couch right now. When you walk out you’re greeted to the exact sight you were expecting to see.
“Y/N, he’s making me watch this stupid fucking minion movie again,” Hyuck whines from one corner of your couch.
“Stupid minion movie? That’s literally you!” Mark points at the screen when a minion pops up.
You don’t know what it is but the presence of your two best friends eases the racing of your mind, a small smile decorating your features as you watch them argue back and forth about who was more of a minion.
“Why are you just standing there? We left your spot open!” Hyuck pats the spot between them that you claimed as yours ages ago. After you settle yourself between them, you feel Mark pat your head and you turn to him.
“Stop thinking so much, it’s bad for your brain. You’re gonna end up like Hyuck,” He smiles reassuringly at you and you don’t even get the chance to smile back before a handful of popcorn is launched in his direction.
“What does that even mean? My brain and I are perfectly functional, thank you very much,” Hyuck huffs from beside you.
“Don’t throw food!” Mark exclaims before promptly picking up the pieces of popcorn that were scattered on his lap and popping them into his mouth.
Even with the grimace on your face and the sound of Donghyuck going off on a tangent about how he has a higher IQ than Mark, you couldn’t be more thankful that your mind had started to stray far away from Jaehyun.
You just hope it could stay that way.
*・・*:.。..。.:*・'♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
you’re still written in the scars on my heart
If you had realized sooner that getting ready for a banquet would be this stressful, you might have said no a lot easier.
As you viciously pat powder onto your face, Donghyuck stands in front of your closet door with a steamer to your dress and Mark wipes down your shoes.
“Are we sure you’re not going to bust your ass in these?” Mark holds up one of the heels and examines it.
“She’s fine. Don’t talk to her, she's already running behind schedule,” Donghyuck barks from his corner of your room.
“What’s his problem?” Mark quirks a brow in your direction.
“He’s a little upset because I dragged him to the mall with me this morning to get those because I forgot about shoes,” You point at the heels in Marks hand.
“I told you to have everything ready like what, a week ago? And now here we are running to Macy’s of all places to find you a pair of shoes?” Donghyuck nags as you two speed walk through the mall.
“God, why did I not bring Mark instead of you? I should have known you’d be no help,” You grumble under your breath.
“First of all, Mark couldn’t tell a stiletto from a kitten heel. You need my expertise if you’re gonna be Jung Jaehyuns date,” Hyuck scoffs.
“Not his date! His plus one!” You exclaim dramatically, cowering slightly when you realize you might have been too loud.
“Date and plus one are the same thing, but okay. Let’s just find you a nice pair of black platforms with ankle straps to go with your dress,” Donghyuck claps his hands together as you gawk at him for even knowing what that was.
The memory of Donghyuck and you this morning makes you giggle as you sweep glitter onto your eyelids.
“Don’t laugh! You’re gonna crease your makeup!” Hyuck shouts at you as he looks through your jewelry box and holds up different pairs of earrings next to you.
“Hyuck, you seem to be more into this than Y/N. Do you want to take her place?” Mark snickers.
“Oh, excuse me for not wanting my best friend to embarrass herself at the biggest event of the school year,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes dramatically, holding up a pair of sparkly silver hoops to your face, “Yes! These are it.”
“It’s just another sports banquet. They have like, ten of them every year,” You shrug.
“Just another sports banquet is absolutely insane, Y/N. You do realize he’s not even on the hockey team and yet he was still invited? Do you know why?” Hyuck has a hand on his hip as he stares at you expectantly.
“…He’s not on the hockey team?”
“Because of his friends! Johnny and Yuta are our schools top hockey stars and every year, they invite him to that damn banquet because you know whats better than two hot guys in suits? Three hot guys in suits. They are the trio, Y/N, and everyone there is on the same level of hot and popular as them, if not more. That banquet you’re going to is literally just an excuse for all the popular kids to show off their parents money and get hyped up for their shitty gameplay,” Donghyuck lets out in one breath and you feel your hands start to slightly tremble.
“Well, now you got her all nervous, dumbass. I’m pretty sure he didn’t tell her for a reason!” Mark points out and Donghyuck looks at you with worried eyes.
“Oh god, please don’t start crying or sweating, your makeup is almost done,” He gently smoothes a hand over your hair and you swat him away.
“I’m fine. A little nervous now, thanks to you, but nothing I can’t handle,” You mumble quietly to hide the shaking in your voice.
A ding! causes all of you to freeze in your spots and look at each other, Mark being the first one to move as he grabs your phone and unplugs it from the charger.
“Jaehyun says “be there in 10 sweetheart” with a heart emoji. Sweetheart?!” He exclaims as he reads the message on your phone over again.
“That’s not the point! He’s almost here and I’m not dressed!” You yelp as you douse your face in setting spray.
“Okay, its go time! Get dressed and take your hair out of the rollers. If he comes, I’ll greet him at the door and distract him so you have time for shoes and perfume. Go!” Hyuck claps his hands together and drags Mark out of the room with him. You walk up to your dress and remove the hanger, slipping into it quickly and easily zipping it up yourself. You walk towards your mirror and your eyes slightly widen at your own appearance.
You’ve grown so accustomed to your usual casual attire that the sight of you in a dress almost feels foreign, and you find yourself turning side to side to admire the way the dress accentuates your features.
“Heels,” You whisper to yourself before you perch yourself on the edge of your bed and begin strapping on the black heels Donghyuck picked out for you earlier in the day.
You hear your apartment door open and you recognize Jaehyuns voice as he greets Donghyuck and Mark. You mutter curses to yourself as you quickly spray on your perfume and deodorant, letting them dry down as you pack your purse with your necessities for the night.
You become increasingly aware of the anxiety that settles in the pit of your stomach at the thought of Jaehyun seeing you all dressed up, and you find yourself involuntarily double checking your appearance in the mirror. You take a deep breath before opening your bedroom door.
“Just have her back by midnight latest. It gets a little creepy around here at night,” You hear Donghyuck say and you shake your head in disbelief at your friend.
“Hyuck, I’m not your daughter you know,” You call out as you walk out of your bedroom, all three sets of eyes landing on you.
Donghyuck wipes a fake tear from his eye as he looks at you and Mark lets out a low whistle as he admires your form.
“You look great, bub. I did a great job,” Hyuck pats himself on the back and you roll your eyes, slowly turning your head to gauge Jaehyun’s reaction.
He stands impressively still as his eyes rake up and down your body, and you want to cower instinctively at his almost predatory gaze. His eyes trail up your body to finally meet your eyes and you swear there’s a hint of something, but Mark claps a hand in front of his face and it goes away in an instant.
“Hey. Stop staring at my best friend like that,” Mark scowls, regarding Jaehyun with caution as he narrows his eyes at him.
Jaehyun clears his throat, straightening his shoulders before turning to Mark with a smirk, “Is it my fault this is my first time seeing her in something that isn’t her church girl clothes?”
“Church girl clothes? I dress perfectly normal, thank you very much,” You scoff, walking towards the front door, looking at Jaehyun expectantly. “Are you coming or what?”
Donghyuck and Mark watch with knowing smiles as Jaehyun walks towards the front door, his eyes never leaving your figure as he stands next to you.
“Wait!”
You both turn your heads at Donghyucks voice, and you’re nearly blinded by the flash that goes off. When you regain your vision, you see Hyuck holding up his digital camera, and you groan.
“Dude!” You whine, Jaehyun chuckling as he gently guides you out of your apartment.
“Have fun listening to EDM all night! And make sure you stay away from Yangyang!” Mark calls out as you step into the hallway of your apartment building and you raise an eyebrow. When the door of your apartment finally closes, Jaehyun turns to you, his dimples on full display as he gives you a quick once over.
“Ready, my lady?” He offers his hand out to you and you scowl, ignoring the way your heart thumps a little harder at his offer to hold hands.
“You seriously owe me one, asshole. Let’s get this over with,” You mutter, walking away from him and towards the elevators.
Jaehyun watches you with an unreadable expression plastered on his face as you walk in front of him, and he lets out a laugh, speaking low enough for only him to hear.
“Let’s get it over with.”
・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
One hour into the banquet and you were starting to think that Mark had some sort of psychic ability.
Shitty EDM blasts through the speakers and you gulp down the remainder of your champagne with a grimace. Your eyes flit around the room, landing on Liu Yangyang as he shotguns a beer in the corner with Johnny. A chorus of cheers erupt when Johnny finishes first and he receives several pats on his back as he makes his way over to you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You need another drink, pretty?” He shouts over the music, and it takes every fiber of your being to not gag at the smell of beer coming from him. You eye the way his tie is now secured on his head like a bandana, and you offer him a tight lipped smile.
“I’m good, thanks,” You call out, shooting him a thumbs up and he nods, stumbling over to the table of new pledges and forcing them to take shots with him.
Against your own will, your eyes search the crowd for a certain dimpled boy, and you find yourself frowning slightly when you can’t see him. You feel a hand on your shoulder and you turn to see Jaehyun looking down at you with a small crease forming between his brows.
“Why was Johnny talking to you?” He leans down to speak over the music, and you start to wonder if the champagne is the reason you find the proximity dizzying.
“He asked if I wanted another drink. I said no,” You answer.
Jaehyun looks at you for a moment, as if considering something, before he leans closer to your ear and speaks.
“Let’s step outside for a second.”
You never agree to something quicker, standing to your feet and letting Jaehyun guide you out to the lobby and up a flight of marble stairs. His hand rests too comfortably on the small of your back, and you ignore the way his touch feels like fire on your skin.
Maybe you were a lightweight after all and maybe the effects of the champagne were starting to take place, making you more perceptive to the way he stayed close to you as you passed by groups of people.
He leads you to an empty room upstairs, walking towards the large glass doors at the end and sliding them open. You step out onto the terrace, your eyes taking in the view of the field below, decorated with fairy lights and flowers for the banquet. Jaehyun shuts the door behind him, walking up to stand next to you as you look up at the inky sky.
“Woah, you can see the stars so well. They’re so pretty,” You breathe out.
Jaehyun’s eyes study your features that are dimly light by the glow of the fairy lights, and he mumbles quietly to himself, “Very pretty.”
A light breeze creeps its way over your form and you shiver, crossing your arms over your chest to try to garner a little warmth.
Jaehyun doesn’t miss the way you cower slightly as the temperature drops, his arms moving quickly to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders.
“Oh, I’m good,” You protest, starting to slide the jacket off your shoulders but stopping when Jaehyun puts two hands on your shoulders to readjust the jacket.
“Keep it on. I don’t wanna hear your ass complaining when you get sick and can’t sing at the showcase,” He mumbles, the glint of fondness in his eyes going unnoticed as you grumble under your breath that you’re fine but slipping your arms through the jacket nonetheless.
“Even if I get sick, I’d still sing better than you any day,” You joke, a small smile making its way onto your face upon seeing Jaehyun’s dimples slowly deepen.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. My biggest hater yet you still agreed to be my date for tonight,” He tuts.
Despite the cool air nipping at your nose, you could still feel the warmth spread on your cheeks at his words.
“I am not your date…I’m your plus one,” You articulate, hesitating before you finally ask what had been on your mind all night, “Why did you ask me to go anyways? I know you had other options.”
Jaehyun ponders for a moment, his lips drawing into a line before he lets out a breath.
“I guess I did have other options. None of them were my first choice though.”
You’re thankful that the sky was dark enough to hide the stupid blush that blooms on your cheeks at his words. “And I was your first choice because…?”
“You’re kidding, right?” He snorts, looking up at the sky with a sigh, “Senior year field day.”
Your eyes almost bulge out of your head as those words leave his lips, and you whip your head to the side to look at him.
“W-what about it?” You stammer embarrassingly, your heartbeat quickening as you wait for him to answer you.
“We were supposed to be each others first kiss and you didn’t show up. I can’t say I wasn’t bummed, you know,” He’s still looking out at the sky as he speaks, and you hate that even in a situation like this, you couldn’t help but admire the way the moon dances over his features.
“I did show up and you were kissing Soojin. So I wouldn’t have even been your first kiss,” You mumble, and you hate the way you almost sound disappointed.
He lets out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I can’t blame you for leaving. But, just for the record, she stole it from me. I wanted it to be you.”
You didn’t think it was possible for your eyes to widen any more than they already were, your lips parting in surprise as you try to process what he just said.
“She…stole it?” You repeat his words and he nods slowly, choosing to ignore the part where he said he wanted you to be his first kiss for the sake of your own sanity.
“I guess she heard us talking about it or something. She followed me to the vending machines and just kinda…threw herself onto me,” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
Not only did Jaehyun just completely deconstruct the reason behind your hatred for him, but he did so while also admitting that he wanted you to be his first kiss. An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your stomach and you rack your brain for something to say.
“Well that…sucks,” You wince at your own words, mentally smacking yourself in the head for not being able to think of anything else. A little sigh of relief escapes your lips when Jaehyun laughs.
“It did suck. I wanted it to be you,” He repeats his words from earlier and he turns to you, looking at you with sincerity written all over his sharp features.
You come to the conclusion that you’re definitely in way over your head right now. You blame the champagne, no, you blame the way the cologne on Jaehyun’s blazer completely clouds your senses.
“Why’s that?” You say quietly, your eyes locked onto his intently.
“Why do you think?” He says calmly, turning to face his entire body towards you before stepping closer.
The tension between you two is enough to suffocate you, and you blame that for your lack of rationality and judgement as you let him enter your space, your eyes never leaving his as he towers over you even in your heels.
“Jaehyun…” You mumble, not sure if it was an attempt to stop him or a cue for him to close the space between you two.
“I’ve really, really wanted to make up for that kiss. Can I?” He speaks quietly, his eyes searching yours for permission.
You’ve definitely had too much champagne tonight, and that’s why you end up nodding.
His hand hesitantly comes up to gently cradle your jaw, your eyes never leaving his as your heart pounds excessively in your chest. He inches closer, his lips barely brushing against yours before a loud bang in the distance causes you to jump away from him. You turn your head towards the field where Yangyang lights up a row of boxes, and you watch as sparks of red and white shoot into the night sky. Not even a second later, you hear a chorus of laughter from the room behind you and the glass doors slide open. Johnny and Yuta come stumbling onto the terrace with three other guys you don’t recognize, and they smile drunkenly at you before whooping at the next round of fireworks.
“Holy shit, we have the best view in the house!” Johnny slurs, whipping out his phone and recording the fireworks as the other boys clink their beer bottles together.
You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that you almost kissed Jaehyun just now, and you let out a small gasp. You look over at Jaehyun, who watches his friends with a scowl, and you quickly slip his blazer off of your shoulders and shove it in his arms, the smell of his cologne lingering on you far longer than you appreciated.
“I’m…I,” You can barely get your words out, so you resort to pointing your thumb at the glass doors behind you to signify you’re leaving. You turn to walk back into the venue but his hand gently wraps around your wrist, and you look back at him.
“Wait, let me take you home,” He nearly pleads, but you simply shake your head and pull your arm out of his grasp. He tries to speak again but Johnny wraps an arm around his shoulder and tugs him into a group selfie.
Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts as you make your way back into the venue, your cheeks hot as you weave through the crowds of people that litter the space. You quickly pull your phone out when you reach the front, ordering yourself an Uber and sitting on the curb as you try to process what just happened. The single glass of champagne you had was slowly starting to wear off, and you’re left with no excuses for the way your heart still hasn’t stopped hammering in your chest even after you’ve left Jaehyun’s vicinity.
You’re almost certain you look insane right now, sitting on the sidewalk with your head in your hands as you mumble “I’m fucked” over and over again under your breath. A car horn causes you to jump in your spot, and you look up to see what you could only assume to be your Uber. You get in, confirming your address with the driver before he begins to pull away from the curb, and you lean back in your seat with a huff.
“Rough night?” The driver chirps, and you let out a dry laugh, the fog in your brain beginning to lift and leaving you feeling slightly disappointed and confused.
“Something like that.”
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
we’re collecting dust
but our loves enough
There’s a noticeably thick tension between you and Jaehyun the next day at rehearsals.
You’re well aware that his eyes had been laser-focused on you from the minute you walked into the auditorium and it left you with an unsettling pit in your stomach as you tried to engage in conversations with your friends to distract yourself from the boy shamelessly staring at you.
“Is it just me or is Jaehyun staring at you?” Renjun asks from the seat behind you.
Mark and Donghyuck snap their necks towards the boy in question, their eyes following his gaze to confirm Renjun’s statement, only to have it land on you.
“Come on now, why would he stare at me?” You smile sheepishly to feign innocence. Donghyuck gasps loudly and jumps out of his seat, causing the surrounding students to avert their attention towards him.
“Is this about last nigh-”
You clap a hand over his mouth and force him back into his seat before he can finish his sentence. His eyes are about to pop out of his head as you offer an apologetic smile to the students who glare at your group.
“What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you want the entire school to know my business?” You whisper-shout as you remove your hand from his mouth.
“Holy shit, I need to know what happened, start to finish. Better yet, I need a play-by-play of what happened from the moment you left the house,” He rambles, bouncing in his seat excitedly.
“Mark, make him stop,” You groan, rubbing at your temples.
“I would love to, but I’m also curious,” Mark winces when you shoot a glare in his direction.
You sigh. It would definitely make the load on your shoulders feel lighter if you vent about last night’s events to your friends. You barely get the chance to open your mouth before Professor Kim walks into the auditorium.
“Hello, students! Give me ten seconds to get the speakers and mics on and we’ll be up and running!” He chirps as he sets his clipboard down and walks onto the stage to set up.
“I’ll tell you guys after rehearsals. My place, tonight,” You whisper to the three boys before you all turn towards the stage.
Professor Kim stands on the stage with a happy grin, eyes scanning the students in the audience before he looks down at his clipboard.
“Today we’re going to try to do rehearsals with the curtains and lights. First pair up is Y/N and Jaehyun!”
It was your turn for your eyes to bulge out of your head. You look over to your partner, only to quickly look away when you realize his eyes are already focused on you, a taunting smirk adorning his stupid face.
“Come on up, guys” Professor Kim calls out.
You hesitantly stand up, looking back at your friends who give you reassuring nods. You trudge through the backstage doors and up the steps, walking onto the stage and positioning yourself at one of the mic stands. In your peripheral, you see Jaehyun only a few steps behind you, doing the same as the curtains close.
“I need to talk to you, you know,” You can feel the way his eyes bore into the side of your face as he speaks, and you sigh.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
The opening chords of the song starts playing and the curtains open, the stage lights shining directly onto you and Jaehyun. You start off the song, easily moving through the first verse and chorus. When Jaehyun’s verse starts, you tense up, doing your best to remember Professor Kim’s notes from your past few rehearsals. You watch as Jaehyun sings his lines while looking directly at you, your eyes getting lost in his as you both start singing together. The bridge approaches quickly and before you even realize it, you’re both standing in front of each other, the lyrics feeling more like a conversation between you two than the words to a song.
This is a performance. You’re both putting on an act.
You try to repeat those words to yourself mentally, but it all goes out the window when his hand reaches out to gently graze your cheek. Your eyes try to search his and for a second, you swear they’re filled with nothing but longing.
The last note of the song echoes throughout the auditorium and you’re both staring at each other. Something is definitely different, but you can’t quite put your finger on what. You feel something bubbling in your chest and your stomach, and if you weren’t so lost in the way his lips curl up into a smile, you’d be able to figure out what it was.
The stage lights dim and there's scattered applause coming from the other performers and the crew. You snap back into reality and look into the audience where you see your best friends looking at you with a knowing smile. You put the mic back onto its stand and rush backstage, where you sit down on a crate and collect your breath.
“Hey, that was great,” Jaehyun pants, slowly approaching where you’re sitting.
“Right, yeah.”
“I told you I’d make a great partner,” he jokes and you shake your head.
“Yeah, whatever. I can’t wait until this is over with,” you mumble to yourself, but he doesn’t miss it.
“You hate me that much, huh?“
“Why are you acting surprised?”
You finally look up at him and if it wasn’t so dark backstage, you’d be able to see the smirk on his features.
“Cause the way you look at me on stage says different.”
The look on his face is enough to send shivers down your spine, but you’re so lost in his aura that you still can’t distinguish what it is. You need to snap back to reality soon, otherwise you’ll lose complete control of the reigns you have on your feelings. The sound of the backstage door opening causes you to shift your attention to Mark and Donghyuck, who come rushing in with the biggest shit-eating grins you’ve ever seen. You’re suddenly very aware that your two best friends were watching it all happen, and you stand up abruptly.
“It’s called having stage personality and presence. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
You don’t even give yourself time to process the change in his face before you walk off, grabbing Mark and Hyuck along with you.
When you reach the audience, you collapse into a seat, and Hyuck is the first one to break the silence after a series of knowing stares between him and Mark. “So…you hate him, huh?”
“Hyuck,” you whine.
“Innocent question, Y/N.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose and gesture for them to sit next to you. They’re now on either side of you, waiting for you to speak.
“I feel insane,” you almost laugh, but nothing was particularly funny in this situation. You just feel like you need to laugh to lighten the heavy feeling on your chest.
“Because you might not actually hate him?” Mark inquires, and you shake your head.
“Because I don’t think I ever really did.”
Your friends send you sympathetic glances, Hyucks eyes darting towards the doors that lead backstage when it squeaks open. He watches Jaehyun walk out seemingly disheveled, before he makes a beeline for the auditorium exit to avoid the stares of the other students. “Is it so bad to be wrong about someone?”
You sigh and rub your eyes. There were too many thoughts swirling around your head and it made you dizzy.
“Can we step outside?” You ask them and they stand, leading you towards the back of the auditorium. Mark pushes the door open but barely takes a step out before he freezes in his spot with Donghyuck doing the same, causing you to bump into their backs.
“Oh shit.”
You look up upon hearing those words leave Mark's mouth, and your blood runs cold.
Jaehyun was leaning against the corridor wall, Kang Soojin latching onto him like the bloodsucking leech she is. And just like that, you’re back in highschool watching Soojin kiss Jaehyun in front of the vending machines again.
You don’t know what it was about the sight but you felt sick to your stomach, your breathing becoming shallow and your hands shaking.
“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” You hear Mark ask, but your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that he sounds far away.
Your eyes finally break away from the sight and you stomp forward, walking through the corridor without another word. You keep up your speed until you’re sure you're far enough from the devil himself, and you turn the corner of the hallway.
“Y/N! Wait up!” You hear your friends call after you.
You slide down the wall and sit on the floor, tears sliding down your cheeks even though you’re not exactly sure why.
You thought you hated Jaehyun. You thought you’ve hated him ever since highschool. But why did the sight of him and Soojin make your chest ache? Why was it so easy for him to make your resolve crumble? Why couldn’t you get him out of your head?
“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” Mark pants, crouching down to examine your crying figure. The tears wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard you tried to control it.
“Bub…” Hyuck sits down next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder. You lean into him and you let the tears fall silently this time.
It’s silent as Donghyuck holds you close and Mark sits in front of you and strokes your hand. You didn’t know what to say, but you knew you didn’t have to explain anything to them just yet. You let them comfort you in silence, not worrying about the dread that came with knowing you’d have to talk about it at some point.
“Let’s go home.”
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
we’re not broken just bent,
and we can learn to love again
You skip the next two rehearsals despite every bone in your body fighting to be on the stage. You make up a lie about being sick to Professor Kim, and Mark and Donghyuck cover for you.
It wasn’t an entire lie. You definitely felt a churning in your stomach since the incident and it made you nauseous. Your phone had been on silent for two days, and your hand had been itching to pick it up and see if Jaehyun had texted you.
The clock blinks 2:14 AM as you shuffle back into your room after using the bathroom. You pull back your comforter and slip into bed with a long sigh, curling yourself into the same position you had been in for the past two days and letting your eyes flutter shut.
Your phone vibrates from your nightstand and you ignore it, assuming it’s either Mark or Donghyuck calling to check up on you. The vibrating stops and your room fills with silence for a brief moment before your phone rings again.
You reach behind you with your eyes still closed, swiping across the screen to accept the call before bringing it up to your ear.
“I’m alive, boys. I appreciate your concern but it is 2 AM,” You croak into the phone, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Not boys, just boy. And if I knew all I needed to do to talk to you was call you, I would have done it a lot sooner.”
Your eyes shoot open and you damn near jump out of bed.
“Jaehyun?” Your voice cracks. “Why are you calling me at two o’clock in the morning?”
“You’re gonna ask me that when you’ve been MIA for the past two days?” He scoffs into the receiver.
“If Professor Kim told you to check up on me, I’m fine. Are we done here?” Your voice is shaky as you try to maintain your usual cold demeanor towards him.
“God damn it, Y/N,” He snaps. “I’m calling you because I want to. Because I care. You can’t disappear for two days and not respond to my texts then expect me to not give a shit. Cut the fucking attitude.”
A tense silence envelopes the call as you fiddle with the drawstrings of your pajama shorts. All traces of fatigue have left your body upon hearing Jaehyun’s voice, making you sigh deeply as you lean against your headboard.
“I’m fine, Jaehyun,” You chew at your bottom lip in an attempt to keep the lump in your throat at bay.
“Stop saying that when both you and I know it’s not true.”
That was the final push that sent your last bits of sanity off the edge.
“What do you want from me, Jaehyun? Do you want me to sit here and cry to you about how shitty I feel right now? Do you want me to tell you that I wish I didn’t have to go back to rehearsals because I have barely been able to get out of bed for the past two days?” You cry.
It’s silent again, embarrassment slowly seeping into your veins as you wipe the streaks of tears from your cheeks.
“Do you want me to tell Professor Kim to excuse you from the performance? I can do it solo,” His voice is surprisingly gentle.
You stare ahead at your black TV screen as you think about Jaehyun’s words. Performing at the spring showcase has always been one of your favourite times of the year, and you knew that if you didn’t perform this year you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. Especially knowing that it meant you’d have to admit that the reason behind your dejection was Jaehyun.
“No, I can…I can come back tomorrow,” Your voice is uneasy.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday, sweetheart,” He laughs.
You hate the way the pet name makes your heart clench.
“Right, then Monday. I’ll be back on Monday,” You sputter, smacking your palm to your forehead in an attempt to regain composure. You feel another surge of embarrassment when you hear him laughing again. “If that’s it, I’m gonna go to bed, Jaehyun.”
“Wait!” He calls out, and you hum curiously at his urgency.
“I know you didn’t ask but, there’s nothing going on with me and Soojin. She was on me. You guys really just came out at a bad time,” He breathes out and you feel heat rushing to your cheeks at the thought that he knew you were bothered by him and Soojin.
“I-the-um-that doesn’t matter to me,” You attempt to lie, the shaking in your voice not only apparent to you but to Jaehyun as well, who laughs at your failed efforts. You smack your palm to your head again at the embarrassment that has yet to leave your body since the call started.
“That’s a shame. I was told it did,” You hear the traces of a smile in his voice and you pale.
“Who told you what?” You squeak.
“Let’s just say one of them is a really bad liar and the other one is a chronic yapper. I’m sure you can figure it out from there,” He laughs into the receiver and you curse under your breath.
“Those idiots,” You grumble.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad it does matter to you,” He speaks, the blush returning to your cheeks as you continue to stutter embarrassingly into the phone.
“I said it doesn’t,” You muster, not even believing your own words.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart. Get some rest, yeah? I need my partner in tip top shape on Monday,” He chirps.
“Yeah, I will. Thanks for checking in, Jaehyun. I appreciate it,” Your lips slowly spread into a smile and he hums.
“Oh, and Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t care if you don’t reply to anybody else’s calls or texts. But don’t pull that shit with me or I swear to God I’ll show up to your house next time.”
You let out a giggle at his request, nodding to yourself and not missing the way he sighs, almost contently, into the phone. You hate to admit it, but this was the best you’ve felt in the past few days.
“Goodnight, Jaehyun,” You laugh quietly.
“You should laugh more often, Y/N. Sweet dreams,” He voices before you hear the noise that signals he hung up.
You return your phone to its place on your nightstand before falling back onto your pillows.
“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, clapping a hand over your mouth after a girlish giggle slips past your lips.
That night, you fall asleep peacefully with an undeniable smile etched onto your features, as soft brown eyes and deep dimples occupy your dreams. When you wake up in the morning you swear the sun shines a little brighter, and you go about your morning with ease and a small smile.
Getting back to rehearsals feels easy and you quickly fall back into routine, your performance with Jaehyun getting stronger as the day of the show approaches. Neither of you bring up what happened, and quite frankly you couldn’t be more glad that he seemingly swept it under the rug for your sake. The idea of having that complicated conversation nearly made you retch every time you thought about it, so you continually prayed that he would forget about it as time passes.
But unfortunately for you, the universe doesn’t seem to hear your prayers.
It’s the Thursday night before the performance and you’re the last one to pack up and leave the auditorium after a long day of rehearsal. You sling your bag over your shoulder with a sigh, fishing your phone out of your pocket to check the time and frowning when you see it was almost 8pm. The loud squeak of the auditorium door startles you, and you look up to see Jaehyun sauntering down the aisle towards you.
“Why are you still here? You scared the shit out of me,” You call out, a hand on your chest to stop the racing of your heart.
“I was waiting for you. Mark and Donghyuck left, and I wasn’t going to leave you alone,” He shrugs, stopping to stand in front of you.
Shit. Was he finally going to talk to you about what happened the other week?
“Why were you waiting for me?” Your eyes flit nervously around the room.
He lets out a soft chuckle, lowering himself to meet your eyes, “Did you think I forgot?”
“Forgot what?” You stammer, stepping back to allow for some distance between you two.
“That I know you were bothered by me and Soojin. That we almost kissed at the banquet.”
You realized with an alarming clarity that you were very much fucked, and there was no way you could back out of this conversation now. Your reactions were too obvious, your emotions too readable, and you let out a defeated sigh.
“It was the alcohol talking at the banquet. I wasn’t in my right mind,” You deflect, flinching slightly when he laughs at your weak attempt to dissmiss him.
“Okay, let’s say you were. You weren’t drunk when you saw me and Soojin though,” He mentions.
“So?” You try to keep a stoic demeanor but it’s quickly replaced by surprise when he steps closer.
“Why were you bothered by it, Y/N?” He prods, tilting his head as he notes the way your eyes fail to meet his.
“Wouldn’t you be bothered by two people practically making out in front of you?” You scoff weakly.
He hums thoughtfully, before shaking his head, “Not really. Not unless I liked the person.”
“T-that’s not true,” You try to argue, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you right where he wants you, and just the tiniest push would send you over the edge.
“Be honest with yourself, Y/N. It won’t help either of us if you keep lying like this,” He almost growls as he steps forward to trap you against the foot of the stage.
“Why do you care?” You furrow your brows at him.
“Because I like you, god damn it. I liked you in highschool and I like you now.”
A strange feeling churns in your stomach at his words and you almost laugh. The idea of Jaehyun liking you made you feel strange, insecurity and disbelief pricking at your heart as you open and close your mouth pathetically.
“N-no, you don’t,” You dismiss, looking away from him as if it would change the tension between you two right now.
“Yes, I do. I like that you’re not afraid to speak up against people you don’t like and I like that I can tell what mood you’re in just by looking at your face. I like that you’re always humming even though I tell you it’s annoying and I like that you don’t let me tell you what to do. I like that you’re bothered by the idea of me and Soojin together, because I like you,” Jaehyun lets out all in one breath and you try to search his features for anything that isn’t the complete sincerity that was written all over it.
“You don’t like me, Jaehyun,” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you shake your head.
“Don’t tell me how I feel. I like you, Y/N. Too damn much for you to try to convince me I don’t,” His voice softens as he lowers his head to try to meet your eyes, a frown forming on his lips when you turn your head to look away from him.
“B-but Soojin…you like Soojin,” You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you try to dismiss his feelings for you, not wanting to face the reality of your own just yet.
“I don’t care about, Soojin. I never have. I don’t even look in her direction because I’m too busy looking at you.”
It becomes increasingly difficult to convince yourself that he didn’t actually like you. You feel sick, the butterflies that only seemed to erupt when he was around begin swirling violently in your stomach. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you look up at him and your brain works in overdrive to justify the way he’s looking at you, like you were an oasis in the middle of a barren desert. The line between hatred and something that was definitely not that was completely gone, and this time you can’t blame the alcohol or the tension for the way your heart nearly bursts when he gently tilts your head to look at him.
“Jaehyun…” You call out weakly, not missing the way his eyes are almost begging you to believe him.
“I like you, dumbass. So much,” His voice is barely a whisper as he searches your face for any type of emotion.
You’re not drunk, you’re not vulnerable, and you definitely can’t ignore it anymore. The pounding of your heart in your chest is loud, urgent, and the butterflies that clutter your stomach demand your attention. The startling realization that Jaehyun was the only person who could evoke such a visceral physical reaction from you washes over you, and everything becomes clear to you as your eyes meet his.
You like Jaehyun, and you probably have for a long time.
“Oh shit,” You mutter to yourself, looking at him with a newfound sense of clarity.
“What is it?” Jaehyuns brows crease slightly at your words.
“I like you too,” You breathe out, the ghost of a smile on your lips as you look up at him with a glint of adoration in your eyes.
Jaehyun lets out a breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his body relaxes in relief.
“Thank fucking God.”
Without another thought, he tilts your head up and presses his lips against yours, his free hand securing itself on your waist as he tugs you closer. He holds you with the utmost conviction that you’d disappear from his very sight if he let go, his desperate hands holding you impossibly closer as your lips mold with his.
Your heart nearly bursts at the seams as you run your hands up his arms and past his shoulders, stopping to gently cup his face. You kiss him back with equal fervor, your body buzzing with what you could only describe as pure bliss. When your lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen, you both pull away, your chests heaving and cheeks tinted a bright pink as you both catch your breath.
“So you were pretending to hate me this whole time, huh?” Jaehyun pants, his hand sliding down to squeeze your hip.
You swat at his chest, your lips twitching into a small smile, “Shut up, before I take it back.”
His hands rest comfortably on your hips, as if they were meant to be there all this time, and he pulls you into his arms. “Nope, can’t take it back. You’re stuck with me.”
You laugh against his chest, wrapping your own arms around his torso as you rest your cheek against his chest. He sways you back and forth gently, a comfortable silence dawning on you two for a moment.
“So…now what?” You speak up, pulling away from the hug to look at him.
He considers you question for a moment as he looks at you, his adoration never fleeting as he tucks some hair behind your ear. “I’d really like if you were mine. How does that sound?”
You hum in mock thought, but the quckening of your heart and the unrelenting butterflies in your stomach know the answer to his question.
“I think I’d like it if you were mine too,” Your grin widens when you notice the way his eyes light up at your response.
“I was always yours, dumbass,” His dimples deepen as he lets out a laugh.
You hear what sounds like a wail coming from backstage, and you whip your head around in slight fear.
“Is someone back there? I can hear you,” You call out, your arms loosening around Jaehyun.
Donghyuck and Mark emerge from behind the curtains, sheepish grins on their faces as they wave at the both of you. You instinctively release your hold on Jaehyun, your face reddening as you realize that your best friends just witnessed everything.
“Are you guys stalkers or something? Why were you hiding back there?” You question as you cross your arms over your chest.
“I’m sorry, bub, but we couldn’t miss this. It was your boyfriends idea!” Donghyuck snitches, pointing an accusing finger at the boy next to you. You turn your head towards Jaehyun and raise an eyebrow at him.
“My fault?! I asked for your help, not for you to stalk us!” Jaehyun retorts.
“Same difference! What did you think we were going to do-” Hyuck defends himself, his words being cut short as Mark smacks him on the back of the head.
“If you were quieter, they wouldn’t have found out! You just had to start crying like a loser!” Mark points out.
“They were being so cute, I had to! I told you we could have played it off!” Hyuck sputters.
You shake your head as they both begin bickering in front of you, and you feel Jaehyun wrap a secure arm around your waist from behind you.
“Your boyfriend, hm? I could get used to that,” He speaks low enough so that only you could hear him.
You turn your head to look up at him and you’re tempted to deny the reality of the situation again, but the feeling of his thumb gently tracing shapes on your skin pushes any sense of insecurity you had out of the way. There was nothing to deny anymore, and you mentally confirm this when he gazes down at you, his eyes warm and reassuring.
“I could too.”
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
NOTES: she’s finished!!! thank you so much for reading if you’ve made it this far<33 i hope you guys love this one as much as i loved writing it :))) more work coming soon my pretties💞💞💞💞
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yuwuta · 2 months ago
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I HAD TO HAVE THIS TALK WITH YOU, CAUSE I’D HATE TO HAVE TO ACT A FOOL — MEGUMI FUHSIGURO
cw this exists in the same rich kids/boarding school au as this piece, which are slowly forming their own universe, implied (past) drug use/underage drinking, more of megumi being your guard dog everybody cheer
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Megumi scowls as yet another phone call goes to voicemail. He’s been standing outside the racetrack for fifteen minutes, watching Yuuji absolutely pummel Aoi in polo, and waiting for you. He huffs, just as Yuuji loudly celebrates another point, thumbing a text to Yuuta, asking if he’s seen you all morning. Yuuji claimed you’d left him all by himself after your shared morning class, Nobara was still in Switzerland, and Tsumiki also seemed to be ignoring his messages. 
He needed answers, and quickly, because this is the free period that Muta and his goons also have free, and he would hate to go back on his promise to stop egging him so soon after you’d asked him so sweetly to knock it off. 
Yuuta (received 12:57pm) — She’s fine, Tsumiki and I are with her. Picnic tables outside of the building 703. — Warning, your least favorite upperclassmen are here too, but don’t make a scene. They’re annoying, but not trouble yet. 
Megumi squints, turning on his heels towards the large building opposite the racetracks. As he rounds the side that opens into a field, formally known as one the many lawns dedicated in the Gojo family’s name, and informally revered as your favorite lunchtime spot, he hears the familiar sound of Tsumiki’s laughter, and the unpleasant squawking of his least favorite upperclassmen. 
Seeing you, Yuuta, and Tsumiki sitting at the picnic bench under the blooming wisteria was business as usual; seeing Hakari and another senior infiltrating the seating arrangement was not. Megumi frowns, strolling up to the table to halt the conversation when he’s noticed by you, and sized up by the upperclassman. 
“Oh, uh—hey, I—good afternoon, Fushiguro!” the other senior has the decency to greet him, stumbling with their overly-chipper tone. Megumi eyes them and blinks. Their face is a familiar shadow to Hakari’s, but he never could recall their name, no matter how many times he had the displeasure of running into the duo.  
“It was,” Megumi drawls. He turns his head to face you again, “You’re late.” 
From this angle, you have to tilt your head up to make eye contact with him. There’s an innocence behind your eyes, genuine warning, weary concern; and still, so beautiful it makes Megumi’s thoughts venture elsewhere—only for a moment; he supposes he should be grateful for Hakari’s presence, just this once, because the interjection of his grating voice pulls Megumi back to reality. 
“Relax, Fushiguro, we were all just talking, having a good time,” Hakari whistles, a dirty grin on his lips, “Ain’t that right, Kirara?” 
Ah, Kirara. That’s their name. Megumi doesn’t have time to mull it over, or pretend to commit it to memory; the majority of his energy is focused on preventing himself from throwing a punch. Briefly, he makes eye-contact with Tsumiki, a silent warning in her eyes to not be violent; so Megumi looks to the other side of the table at Yuuta, whose hollow eyes are apologetic, but cautious. Megumi can tell they’ve both been doing their best to neutralize the conversation before he arrived, without setting off your own alarm bells. 
They’ve been patient, but he won’t be: “Get lost, Hakari.” 
“Whoah, no need to rush things. Come on, I didn’t even get a chance to invite you to our party yet,” Hakari’s grin widens, “I just figured I’d get your owner on board before I pet the puppy, yeah?” 
Tsumiki and Yuuta share a look. Megumi bares teeth to growl, rests his palms on the picnic table and leans over to deliver his message again, “Get lost.” 
“Kin, don’t be so rude!” Megumi can hear Kirara’s teeth chattering beside him, a chittering voice attempting to cut through the tension, “What—what he means is that you’re all invited, really!” 
Megumi turns his head, not to acknowledge Kirara or to back down to Hakari, but to look at you. He knows that you know that there are three options to how this ends, and given that he’s already got a strike in your book for bullying Kokichi, and that Yuuta’s route would cause significantly more drama than his, he’s hoping you’ll settle this yourself. 
He tilts his head just enough, raised eyebrows in warning and wait; and then, you give a conceding blink, a small sigh, part your lips to speak, still looking at Megumi when you say: “Hakari, Kirara, you two should grab lunch. They’re going to stop serving the hot food soon.” 
A command hidden as a suggestion. It makes the upperclassmen scowl, but still Hakari motions across the table to Kirara, and they both gather their belongings. “Whatever,” he scoffs, “You know where to find us when you want to have some real fun.” 
Hakari flashes you a wink over his shoulder before he and Kirara make their way around the building and towards the main dining hall. When they’re out of earshot, you smile, look away from Megumi, and back down to your lunch, grabbing the single, wrapped daifuku and tearing open the packaging, before looking back up to him with a smile, “Well, have a seat, Megumi. Join us.” 
Megumi scoffs, standing up straight again, “You’re supposed to be in a meeting with Gojo right now.” 
“I already had Yuuta do my bidding this morning, because he was so sweet to wake up before noon,” you reply, taking the desert out of the plastic, flashing Yuuta a brief smile before looking up to him again, “So I told him lunch was on me, and we ran into Tsumiki on our way. It’s so nice out, isn’t it? Come on, sit with us, enjoy the weather. Yuuta was telling us about the new coup he bought.”
Tsumiki chimes in about her lunch, looking over at Yuuta’s half-eaten tray and wishing she’d got beef instead of chicken. He offers her what’s left of his plate, and she politely declines, before Yuuta insists, pushing his food across the table to her, and you pitch in, putting the remainder of your sauce next to her. The three of you seem to easily pick up where your conversation was presumably before Hakari and Kirara crashed your lunch. 
Megumi’s scowl deepens. He knows that you know that he wants to know why Hakari and Kirara were here in the first place, he knows that you know that their party invitation was just a scheme to get you into trouble and get a rise out of him, he knows that you know he’s going to kick their asses six ways to Sunday unless you tell him not you. 
“Megumi,” you cut through his thoughts, words noticeably heavier, “Sit.” 
He rolls his tongue in his cheek, and you squint a bit, tilting your head to motion to the empty space beside you on the bench. You only spare him a sharp glance, before giving your attention back to Tsumiki, clapping happily as she shows you something she bought on her phone. 
With a huff, Megumi rounds the table, sets his bag down on the soft grass and swings his legs over the bench and next to you. Tsumiki turns her phone to Yuuta, and your attention is back to Megumi, breaking your daifuku in half and offering a piece to him. He puts an elbow on the table, leans his cheek into his palm, a defiant expression on his face you pay no mind to—you scrunch your nose with a deceptive smile, bringing the mochi to his lips, and opening your mouth mockingly for him to follow. He blinks at you, slowly; once, twice, a third time before his head dips every so slightly, mouth a jar, letting you place the dessert between his teeth. Only after he has it in his mouth do you begin to eat your half, sparing a hand to raise your arm and pat the top of his head, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 
Megumi tilts his head further into his palm. “You didn’t answer my calls.” 
“When you called, I was eating lunch. It’s rude to take calls when you have company,” you defend yourself. 
“Yuuta answered my texts.”
“Yuuta is scared of you,” you chirp, “And unlike you, he cares to not have write-ups on his transcript. He keeps his physical encounters off-campus.” 
“I am not scared of Megumi,” Yuuta scoffs, leaning over to poke at your forehead, “I’m scared of Tsumiki. And I did not want to be scolded for getting blood on her new Chanel skirt.” 
Between the two of them, Yuuta was certainly the more reformed one; it only took one incident of Tsumiki pulling at his ear and scolding him about using his words instead of his fists for him to actually listen to her. Megumi couldn’t blame him, Tsumiki was hellish when she was truly angry, and he feared Tsumiki as much as the next person, but he also knew how she had a soft spot for her younger brother; a mercy that Yuuta, Yuuji, and Nobara were not privy to when their violent streaks got the best of them. 
Besides, when Tsumiki couldn’t get to him, you were there to tug on his leash and reign him in. 
“Wimp,” Tsumiki coughs, “And simp,” she taunts her brother, “We ought to pick new bodyguards in our next life.”
You laugh softly at her teasing, but still, you rest your elbow on the table to mirror Megumi’s position, “You’re right. I call dibs on Yuuji.” 
Your joke makes the others laugh, and Megumi rolls his eyes as you all chuckle. Still, he shifts to lean his head against your shoulder, sly as he knocks his head against your neck and reminds you of a simple fact: “That’s too bad. You’re stuck with me, in this life and the next.”
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rottiens · 5 months ago
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are we havin' fun yet?┊ s. getō ft. s. gōjō
✫ word count. 5.1k
✫ summary. you get caught up in the unresolved argument and tension from years ago between two old best friends.
✫ tags. (18+) — explicit content. no curses au, bisexual panic and denial, female reader + afab (the reader wears painted nails and has somewhat long hair), mostly geto-centric narrative, objectification, praising, cucking.
✫ notes. ok this is born thanks to the idea of this ask, a drabble that i lost control of heh. there are many things i love about this piece and i hope you enjoy it kiss kiss. divider creds: cafekitsune.
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From food and video games to shirts and colognes, Suguru and Satoru have always shared everything. It's adorable, to a certain extent, how close the two of them are and how others perceive them as brothers from the outside. It's an unbreakable friendship that was born spontaneously when they were both little. They met in elementary school, when Satoru decided to share his crayons so Suguru could color the house he had drawn, and since then, the affection that began then has only grown along with them.
The only time the two were apart was during their time at university where Satoru was inclined to study history while Suguru, with his tendencies towards human relations and his great empathy, decided to study social psychology. However, after graduating and starting work not far from the city center, they both decided it was time to live together again, at least for a while, with the intention of saving expenses.
Suguru has never minded sharing. His shampoo, his food, his bath gel. So it was only natural to expect his friend to do the same for him, to share everything, right? Just like back then.
That afternoon, Satoru was returning to the apartment after a long day at work. The backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder as his footsteps echoed in the hallway. He unlocked the door with his key, which turned with a familiar, comforting sound. Upon entering, he was greeted by the scent of the incense Suguru always lit to keep the atmosphere calm and cozy.
Suguru was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with precision and care. Hearing the door, he looked up to greet and greet him, as usual, only the greeting died on the tip of his tongue, turning into a long sigh.
“Oh.” Disappointment disguised in a subdued tone, so Suguru decides to add. “You bring company.”
Again. He wants to say, but he bites his tongue and harshly splits the onion in two. You're here. Again. The friend Satoru has been bringing home every weekend for a month now. Suguru thought it was going to be casual, like all the times before, something that would last a week or two at most, because Satoru isn't the type to have long-term relationships. But seeing you here after a full month surprises him, no, it bothers him, and he can't explain why.
Satoru smiles, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air.
“'Hi, Suguru,” you greet him, accompanying your words with a nervous twitch that leads you to squeeze Satoru's intertwined fingers. You look adorable, and he avoids rolling his eyes. You're wearing a tight-fitting black knit-and-button blouse that highlights your figure, and a short black skirt that exposes your legs that he can't help but admire before focusing on his friend.
“Will you stay for dinner?” Suguru asks out of politeness and breaks eye contact with you to look at Satoru, who struggles to hold back a smile.
His fingers tighten around the knife just as a muscle in his jaw does.
“Later. We'll be in my room.”
Unable to add anything else, Satoru tugs your hand towards the hallway along with a slight nod that has you following him like a lost puppy. A few seconds later, the slam of the door rattles the walls and minutes later a pop song reaches the kitchen. It's the voice of a familiar artist, high and raspy, and Suguru wants to rip out his eardrums.
He plunges the knife down on the onion hard, hitting the board with a dull thud that gets louder and louder. Even over the noise of the knife, his thoughts, and the woman now singing another song from the same album, Suguru can hear it: those sounds Satoru tries to muffle with his hand, the breaths, the moans.
The hot oil bubbles in the pan rising with the anger cooking in the top of his stomach, the olive oil toasting the onions and garlic, while Suguru pretends he doesn't know what's going on a few feet away from him. He doesn't hate you, not really. You're sweet, you're kind, and he thinks that makes it worse. What really runs across his skin from the inside, like fingernails scratching a chalkboard, is the fact that Satoru doesn't talk about you. Of what he does, what he doesn't do, that he doesn't offer you as an offering from which he can take. Like one of his toys, like his shirts, like the other partners he's had before you.
It is the exclusivity with you that irritates him to such an extent that his thoughts corrupt him and make him completely forget about the garlic that is now dark and smells burnt.
“Fuck this,” he growls to himself, wrinkling his nose at the smell and the plume of smoke rising to the ceiling. Suguru scoops up the burnt ingredients with the spatula and pushes them into the trash can. He puts the pan back on the fire and grabs a new onion to chop. As he cuts, he hears your laughter, that bubbly, mischievous, genuine laughter that comes out of your belly and echoes throughout the apartment, as if Satoru is making you cry from the tickling. Suguru peels and chops the onion harder, throwing it into the pan once more, his eyes red and watery, his nose full of the peculiar stench of onion.
Satoru laughs, says something (perhaps in your ear, even against your thigh) that Suguru can't decipher. A door opens and closes. Then he hears the shower water, and the words of the song come through more clearly thanks to Satoru leaving the door open, as he always does. Suguru adds the ginger and concentrates on the curry, and on nothing else but cooking, showering and getting out of there. And that's what he does.
He waits for you to finish playing newlywed couple in the shower, takes off his clothes, ignores his erection and steps into the shower that still smells of you. To the shampoo you both share, to your perfume, to the minty toothpaste and- it's the first time it happens, as an irony of fate, as if life is mocking him, suguru finds your panties lying on the side of the shower, he is stepping on them and looking at them as if he has discovered something horrifying, they are soft, white and lacy around the edge and have a sticky, almost white he might say, fluid on them.
Suguru picks them up. He watches them a few feet away, he knows he shouldn't do it, he would never take anything his friend doesn't offer him first and he doesn't because his pride is stronger.
He throws them on the floor a little further away from where he picked them up, steps into the shower and cums silently in his clenched fist as he drowns in the smell of you.
Suguru wraps the towel around his waist when he's done, lets his hair cascade loose dripping droplets down his back and looks in the mirror to see his cheeks stained red and finally exits the bathroom.
You are with Satoru in the living room, apparently arguing about something, you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye entering the room and closing the door.
Suguru takes off his towel and looks at his hand. Okay, he did it. He tries to justify himself but there's no reason other than, he thinks he has the right to taste you, to smell you, to know what has satoru coming back to you, so he brings the used panties to his nose shyly at first, full of embarrassment, but when he spits on his hand and starts fucking his cock harder he realizes as he sniffs you like he's a stalker pervert, he notices there are no inhibitions now, it's just you, your panties, his hard cock and his imagination telling him the different poses he could take you in if satoru would let him.
He cums silently as he hears the front door close and the shame returns to him as if it has always belonged to him. Suguru hurries to clean up his mess with napkins he keeps hidden in the room and moves to stow your panties in one of the drawers where he keeps his underwear, way down low.
Suguru's face is hot and his chest tight. His naked body as an accusation reminds him of the crime he just committed, so he moves to pick up some shorts and slides them up his muscular legs until the heat in his chest is descending.
He lies down for a moment on the mattress that makes no noise when he moves and stares at the ceiling until his vision blurs and he stops thinking and, then, remembers the curry.
——
The second time it happens it's not even his fault.
This seemed like a joke of fate or some divine plan to punish him for being thirsty for water he can't drink.
You are sitting in front of him, on the floor, legs slightly spread while wearing a satoru t-shirt too big for you which helps him discover that you have nothing on underneath except for black panties. Suguru can see for a moment how your pussy lips swallow some of the material and thinks of the excuses he can come up with to justify if asked about the blush or the amount of sweat pearling his temples.
“ UNO!” Shouts satoru victoriously placing the last card in the center of the floor and you feign indignation as you tap him on the shoulder, moving into your space, and flashing him again your panties. “Are you okay, man?” asks Satoru still laughing, he has your wrists clutched against his chest to keep you from hitting him again as you accuse him of cheating.
He was. But Suguru didn't care to discuss that now.
“Suguru, say something to him!” You chuckle slowly as you do when he sucks too hard on your clit and he leaves you breathless. He knows because he saw you, a couple of weeks ago when satoru was eating your pussy on top of the counter when he thought suguru was asleep, you were right where he was preparing the curry just a couple of nights ago.
Suguru closes his eyes for a second erasing that mental image and gets up, before anyone notices what's going on and is grateful for the baggy t shirt he's wearing that hides his semi erection.
“Yeah; it's the curry… I think, I'll be back,” he excuses himself.
The third time it happens Suguru looks around the room for cameras. This had to be a joke.
A pair of black panties were attacked at the bottom of the washing machine, mixed in with his clothes, kept there since the last day you visited them. Suguru knows he must return them and he will…. soon.
He slips them into the back pocket and finishes placing the clothes he will wash that day inside the washing machine. Then he closes it harder than he should.
——
It's incredibly hot, so he's not wearing a shirt. You're close to Satoru, as usual, huddled a few feet away from Suguru as you watch the soccer game. The fan is barely enough for the three of you, but Suguru prefers to stay away from you for his own good.
The game's narrator announces halftime and Suguru takes the opportunity to blink and stretch his legs. He raises his arms above his head with a groan, and his shorts are pulled down a little, revealing the beginnings of the short hairs on his abdomen.
“Man, this is getting boring,” Satoru grunts with a yawn. You two look at him.
“What do you mean? The match is 2-4 right now…”
“You've really given up already?” Suguru frowns, looking at the back of your head but unable to see the expression with which you watch your boyfriend… or whatever you two are now.
“Huh?” he replies in confusion.
“I thought you wanted to fuck my girlfriend,” blurts out satoru, as casually as if he's talking about the weather, his eyes now on the commercials playing on TV.
Suguru thinks that if he were still drinking from the water bottle he'd be coughing right now. Instead, his eyes widen to such an extent that they could pop out of their sockets and roll on the floor, his throat goes dry, his heart leaks out of his chest and a whiplash hits his cock. Satoru laughs noting the expression he finds comical. “Funny you act so surprised when you've always been so easy to read,” he says.
“Babe, come on,” you murmur as you stroke Satoru's chest in circles, your short red nails contrasting with the Red Hot Chili Peppers tank top he's wearing.
Suguru turns on the couch to get a better look at you, his blue eyes locked on yours intimidating. They always have. However, with a deep breath you steel yourself not to break eye contact.
“Why didn't you say anything before?”
Satoru smiles sideways. Hearing him say this last, you turn to position yourself perfectly in the middle of the two of you, avoiding the gaze of either of them, and fixating on the commercial about the energy drink they're promoting now.
“I thought you were going to ask, as usual,” he says with a shrug, still talking as if you weren't present.
“I thought it was different now.”
“Well, are you going to ask?”
Suguru pushes his cheek with his tongue and his fingers gently grip the couch.
“Satoru…” you warn, averting your gaze to the floor. Suguru notices how fast your breathing has become, his friend's long fingers playing with the edge of your denim shorts, sometimes hiding under the fabric as they scratch the fat of your thigh from time to time.
“Say it,” Satoru encourages him gently, looking up at you through his eyelashes and with determined eyes that mimic those of an eagle.
Suguru bites his cheek gently, perhaps to make sure he's not dreaming. He has a slight feeling that this is a trap, that Satoru is leading him to a place he won't be able to get out of, and yet he decides to sink his feet into what is probably quicksand.
He's always wanted this, clearly, and to have it in front of him, being offered on a platter for him to take and satiate his hunger- there's very little a hungry man can take.
“I want to fuck her,” Suguru spits and his voice doesn't tremble. There's a slight frown on his forehead and the summer heat prevents him from breathing normally.
You bite your lip as you watch Suguru, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten as Satoru continues to tease you underneath the material of the shorts. Your eyes widen slightly and your cheeks heat up, anticipation and nervousness mingling in your expression.
“How badly you want it?” asks Satoru, his voice barely a whisper.
Suguru closes his eyes for a moment, his jaw tensing. “I'm dizzy just thinking about it,” he replies, opening his eyes slowly, his gaze fixed and determined on him. He hasn't even dared to look at you. “I want to fuck her so hard and deep, you have no idea.”
“Fuck,” Satoru's fangs are visible for just a second, a wolfish grin warning danger. “Atta boy…” he purrs, sliding his fingers over your jawline to force you to look at him. There's something about Satoru that has always made you feel intimidated. His blue eyes, as deep as the sea, and his cotton-white hair give him such a peculiar appearance, he almost looks like the divine character from some book you must adore. His touch is firm, but not aggressive, and the intensity in his gaze leaves you breathless, as if you're under a spell you can't break. “You still want to fuck my best friend?”
“Satoru…” you beg in a trembling voice.
“Don't be shy, angel. If you can ask for it, it's yours,” he replies with an indulgent smile.
You had discussed this before, once… well, maybe it was twice. You remember it clearly because it's impossible to forget how the idea made you feel. The first time, you were drunk and thought it was all a joke; but when Satoru brought it up again, whispering it close to your ear while you were both sober and cuddled in the dark your room, you thought it was just a fantasy that would fade away and stay just that.
“You know… we used to share everything,” he told you.
The idea of being shared between the two of them is… overwhelming, to say the least. Just thinking about it takes your breath away; both men are huge, tall and muscular, not to mention how handsome they are.
“You know I do. We've talked about it,” you confess in a low voice.
Suguru barely manages to hear you over the hiss of a whistle on the TV, but what he does manage to catch makes his heart beat wildly and his thighs tense.
Satoru examines you up and down, perhaps looking for some trace of doubt about what is about to happen. Finding no sign of uncertainty, his eyes fall on Suguru and, with a wave of his hand, he beckons him closer.
“C'mere, Suguru. Don't be shy.”
Suguru moves like a magnet towards you, shuffling his legs over the couch until his warmth envelops you. Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the heat that has built up in the room, of the sweat on your back and the sticky feeling on your skin. The atmosphere becomes dense and suffocating, each breath feels heavier, Suguru's bare knee touches yours and the friction of your bodies makes your skin burn, intensifying the crushing sensation that overcomes you.
Expectantly, you both look at Satoru as if waiting for the next command anxiously, like animals about to be tamed.
Satoru makes an effort to pretend that he does not enjoy the situation, that the idea of devouring you both in one go does not excite him. However, he takes the first step and reaches for you with his hand, placing it on your cheek to force you to look at him. Lips half-open and eyelashes messy, you feel his lips pull you close and kiss you, filling you with a palpable intensity. Suguru beside you gasps.
Your boyfriend's fingers push at the thick denim fabric of your shorts and your needy core reaches for his open palm, swaying your hips in need of more.
Suguru doesn't know what to do; he seeks Satoru's permission, unsure if it's okay to kiss you, if he can touch you. Fists clenched in his tight shorts, he pauses to watch as Satoru's tongue hungrily thrusts into your mouth, creating a mess of saliva and moans. The intensity of the moment draws you into a new kiss, as his mouth fills with water, caught up in the maelstrom of desire that is unleashed.
In the midst of a new kiss that ends with Satoru gently biting your lower lip, he reaches out to grab his friend's jaw, delicately inviting him towards you. Leaving your mouth inches from his and with your eyes still closed, you barely make out the change in mouths, except for the difference in the way they devour you.
Suguru feels very different; his lips are harder and thicker than your boyfriend's, and his skin, rougher from the recent shave. Unlike Satoru, he sucks your tongue with precision. Each movement, though laden with desire, feels carefully planned, not so messy and the sensation of his mouth molding yours has your pussy soaking wet from satoru's long fingers now playing with your drooling pussy directly.
“You're this wet? Just from kissing him?” Satoru bites your neck and you release suguru's mouth to moan and expose your throat even more. “Such a naughty girl.”
Suguru's kisses mark the other side of your throat making you clench around the pair of digits with which satoru explores your insides, a couple of jerks of his fingers inside you has your back hunched for both of them and just as you begin to ride the wave of your orgasm, so close, the fingers are hastily withdrawn from you to show them to the room as proof of how wet you are. A long transparent string ties his fingers together.
“Look what you did to her, suguru.” Satoru brings the fingers to his friend's mouth who after hesitation circles them with his tongue with his eyes closed and face burning.
The heat is as unbearable as the erection in his shorts and suguru is grateful to feel some pressure on the throbbing bulge while still sucking on his fingers. You spit on your hand and cover his cock in saliva jerking it up and down, satoru drags his fingers out of his friend and sees the desire in his cinnamon eyes, lust overpowering shame.
Satoru spits into his own hand and curls it around suguru's throbbing cock, you masturbate his base, he swirls the sensitive tip, your left hand massaging his balls and the whole haze of new thrills and sensations whip him, and make him dizzy.
“Fuck you,” Suguru gasps with his eyebrows drawn together and mouth a distorted circle looking at his friend.
“Don't you want to cum?” you ask, innocent at the dueling gazes battling in front of you.
“Agh, fuck. No, not yet…” selfishness wanted him to continue, not so soon, he couldn't finish now.
“Oh no?” Satoru presses harder, stroking his slit with his thumb. ”Because you want to cum in her tight pussy, don't you? Fuck man, you don't know how hard she squeezes when she's about to cum, it feels like she wants to keep you there and have you fill her over and over again with your fucking cum.”
“Satoru shut the fuck up!” he yells through his teeth.
“Or do you want to cum in me?” as they both look at each other, his balls twitching, no words to respond other than pent up emotions from years ago.
“Please…” is all he can say, unsure of exactly what he's pleading for.
The waves of pleasure that Satoru's fingers give him descend, allowing the pressure in his lower stomach to cease, and he can breathe normally again.
“Stop,” Satoru says, kissing your temple. You obey instantly, getting Suguru to groan with painful longing, cock twitching visibly a mess of his saliva and precum. “Do you want to ride him?” he asks you directly, catching your gaze as he grabs the back of your neck firmly to give you a soft kiss on the lips.
“I do,” you reply, slightly light-headed from the kiss, the physical contact and the heat. Your breath brushes against his mouth and Satoru looks at you proudly, or so you think; you fail to decipher what's really in those eyes, though many times you can't.
Suguru lies down on the couch just as Satoru orders him to. He finishes removing his shorts awkwardly and hurriedly, becoming completely naked. It's not the first time Satoru has seen him without clothes, but it's the first time he's contemplated him in this way, almost like you are.
Suguru is handsome, that's a fact you can freely acknowledge. Seeing him like this, fully exposed, a sense of awe comes over you. His body is toned, with muscles worked by hours in the gym. His legs are covered with short hair that is growing, and a line of hair descends from his navel to his pelvis, where you find a tangle of short, curly hairs. The sight of his naked body is breathtaking, a mixture of strength and vulnerability that takes your breath away.
A few feet away, satoru jerks his cock with his own hand, long rather than thick, pale pink at the tip with a drop of pre cum in the slit and suguru, head cocked to the side and leaning back on the couch licks his lips in his direction watching him satisfy himself.
You grab his cock with one hand and then, the realization has your body tingling the moment you brush the tip at your needy entrance. All three of you moan in unison, connected together by the same thought and it is lewd, it embarrasses you but at the same time excites you to have the attention of both men pouring into you alone, suguru thrusts his hips upward in search of some kind of release and satoru takes a few short steps forward to admire the scene more closely, then sitting down on the ground a few feet away from you to better admire the scene he has set up for himself.
His cock plunges into you, thrusts and expands your pussy, spills your arousal around the thickness. Suguru is much thicker so you feel so full the moment you're sitting on him completely, his warm hands on your thighs massaging you up and down bringing comfort as he thrusts his hips to grind against your clit.
You hold onto his stomach like an anchor, feeling the sweat make your hair stick to your forehead and tangle around your face. Your hips move harder, riding him with increasing intensity, selfishly seeking climax. suguru finds your clit with the hard pad of his thumb and rubs it back and forth as you do all the work. For a long minute it's just the two of you staring into each other's eyes, the open-mouthed panting chanting turns to grunts and moans that gets lost in the noise of the forgotten match in the background; suguru struggles to concentrate on you, watches your lip being punished by your teeth, your tits covered by the thin fabric of the summer tank top and on the way his finger fiddles your nub of nerves lazily.
You lose yourself in him, in the rhythm at which his hips join yours; you feel his desperation, his hunger. Suguru grunts and carelessly grabs your hips to turn you around and place you now on your back on the couch, your thighs spread wide by his wide hips and his hands make prisoners of your wrists above your head.
You moan, with his forehead against yours and his body bending yours in half you feel like you might break beneath him, he notices, feels you tighten which makes him grin devilishly.
“Too deep?” He asks, as if he doesn't know the answer, pounding you harder and more precisely. “I like it like this, perfect for breeding you…. I like how tight you get.”
“Uh-huh,” you reply biting your lip, sharing the sweat from his frown.
“Tell him,” he orders you without looking at satoru, sharing a secret between your open mouth that can't be heard by your boyfriend.
You had almost forgotten him for a moment, too wrapped up in the fantasy. Turning your attention to satoru you realize that he fucks his cock to the rhythm in which suguru thrusts into you, he licks his lips as he watches you come back to him, to the giddy and disoriented and a smile curving the corners of his mouth appears on his face.
“Hi, angel.” Satoru gasps, “Do you have something to tell me?”
“He's so deep,” you gasp, suguru becoming more beast than human with every second you let him take you, caught up in the idea of fucking his friend's girlfriend, now you were no longer his property, you were his; his for that moment. He pushes back to get a better look at you from another angle and pulls up your tank top and exposes your tits, pinching your nipples without remorse.
“Yeah? And you like it?” you look back at suguru, the bun tying his hair back is starting to unravel, black strands falling down his back and you're not sure which one you want to look at first. “Are you having fun?”
“Yes…”
“I can tell… I love that face you're making, you're going to cum soon….. How about you Suguru, tell me how you feel?”
His eyes wander to your crotch, to your panties pulled aside so he can slip inside you, and he loses his rhythm for a moment as he watches his cock thrust in and out of you. He spits right on your clit for extra lubrication and takes his thumb to start massaging you, squeezing even tighter the tension binding your guts.
“She's so beautiful, and this fucking pussy, god…” his back arches and he rolls his eyes, feeling his own orgasm come hard. “She's squeezing me so hard.”
“Don't cum in her,” satoru warns.
Suguru bites his lip coming back to the present, the violent sound of wet skins meeting and the invisible steam of heat overwhelming him and urging him to take his own orgasm soon.
“Suguru…”
Another warning.
Satoru's voice sounds so sweet yet so commanding that it's almost annoying. It's just like before, when he ordered him things like he was his puppet and he was always so grateful to obey him, just to remain his friend. But you feel so good now, so tight, so wet, he doesn't remember the last time he fucked someone raw that nothing feels more like it now than filling your pussy with his load however, he forces himself to pull his cock inside you and fuck his cock on top of your stomach while you watch him with eyes full of adoration, he lets his cum run on your stomach making puddles on your belly button while someone behind him shouts “goaaaaaal”.
Then Suguru leans over, his fingers tangling in the mess that is your hair as his hair trails down his sweaty back, this with the intention of kissing you but he feels a brute hand on his shoulder pulling him away from victory, meeting that warm bluish gaze that reminds him of nostalgia.
“No kisses… those are another thing you'll have to ask for like a good boy.”
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minniesmutt · 6 months ago
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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: NON IDOL! AU, FEM!READER, CEO!READER, SECRETARY!LEE KNOW, OFFICE SEX, FOOD MENTIONS, ALCOHOL (WINE), FIRST-TIME RELATIONSHIP SEX, PET NAMES (KITTEN, KITTY), DIRTY TALK, DOM! LEE KNOW, SUB! READER, STRONG BOY LINO DOES CARRY READER, DADDY KINK, ORAL (F. REC), GROPING, SPIT, FINGERING, BEGGING, TEASING, PROTECTED SEX, PRAISE, FINGER SUCKING, ALLUDES TO MORE ROUNDS, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     Minho wasn’t unaware that the women in his office stared at him like a piece of meat. He passed by them every day when he walked in and heard their whispers. They truly sucked at whispering. And even for such a large company, office gossip got around very quickly. 
     He always ignored them, he didn’t care what they thought about him. He just walked to his desk with two coffees, sat, and got to work. Checking over his boss’s schedules for the day and any notes left on his desk after he left last night. Ears perked up when he heard everyone else greeting their CEO when she walked in. He looked up from his computer as Y/n greeted her employees.
     “Morning Ms. L/n,” He greeted as he stood with her cup of coffee
     “Good morning Mr. Lee,” Y/n smiled and thanked him for the coffee, “Anything important on my schedule today?” 
     Minho grabbed his tablet and coffee, following her into her office, “Just a board meeting after lunch ma’am,” Minho said as he closed her office door behind him.
     “Alright,” Y/n sighed, setting her coffee and bag down on her desk, “Thank you Minho.” Y/n smiled
     Minho nodded and headed back to his desk. Busing himself answering emails and phone calls. It was the weekend so the office wasn’t super busy. Everyone mainly taking it easy till clock out time. Minho was happy the time was flying by today. 
     Around lunch, he heard his phone ping. He turned the screen on a saw a message
Y/n: free tonight?
     Minho smiled as he leaned back in his chair 
Minho: depends. Why are you asking? Y/n: just seeing if you want to come over to mine after we're off for dinner Minho: I’m free Y/n: see you after work then.  Minho: technically, I see you in a few minutes to go over your meeting material  Y/n: 🙄
     It was odd. Talking to his boss, and hiding it from the office. Though it was very easy for them to hide it. They were in their own little world most of the time. But he had some concerns at first. He knew HR would be on his ass if they found out. 
     If it wasn’t for Jisung and Felix setting them up on a blind date, he’d just be her secretary. And if he hadn’t convinced her that it was fine and that they were outside of work. Now almost a few months later they were doing alright. 
     “Hey, Minho!” One of the ladies in the office called. He looked up at her as he set his phone down. Truly, he didn’t know her name. 
     “Yeah?” he asked 
     “If you’re not busy tonight, would you want to grab some drinks with me?” She was so hopeful 
     “I already have plans for tonight,” Minho told her
     “Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time?”
     “No thanks,” Minho stood up and grabbed his tablet and phone before standing up. 
��    He didn’t say another word and headed to Y/n’s office. Knocking on the door before walking in.
      Y/n looked up from her computer as he shut the door, offering a smile as he took a seat with a sigh. 
     “You alright?” Y/n asked him
     “Fine,” Minho answered 
     Y/n got up and leaned against her desk in front of him, “Not asking as your boss.”
     “We’re at work,” he reminded her
     “In my office,” Y/n added
     “Just office stuff,” he told her, grabbing her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles, “Got asked out is all.”
     “Someone finally made a move out there?”
     “So you know about the office gossip.”
     “I like knowing things,” Y/n shrugged, “Back to work. We can talk about it more later.”
     Minho rolled his eyes and went over the details for her meeting then walked down to the room with her. Sitting and taking notes. Just doing his job while the meeting ran on. Barely recognizing the meeting had ended until the sound of chairs brought his attention back.
      He locked his tablet and let out a small sigh. Quietly standing from his chair.
     “Email me the meeting notes, would you Minho?” Y/n asked as she picked up her things. 
     “Yes. I’ll send them over as soon as I can,” Minho assured her as they made their way out of the meeting room to their respective desks.
     Working for the next few hours on little things. No company deadlines to meet this month which made everything easier. 
      Minho was about to wrap up for the day when his phone vibrated on the desk
Y/n: Rain check tonight? Minho: something come up? Y/n: Issue with one of the branch managers 🙄 HR wants me to hope on a Zoom meeting to talk about it Minho: that bad the CEO needs to hop on the call? Y/n: We’re still a pretty small company Min. It’s happened before  Minho: How about I cook tonight? Just come over once your meeting is over. Y/n: you cooked last time 😞 Minho: and you loved it so I'll cook again. it’s no big deal.  Y/n: are you sure? Minho: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t Y/n: Okay. thank you min Minho: no problem. I’ll see you after your meeting 
     Minho packed up his stuff and checked on Y/n before leaving for the day. Making his way to the store to pick up a few ingredients before heading home. 
     Taking care of the groceries before hopping in the shower to wash the day off. Putting on a plain t-shirt and some sweats then walking into the kitchen. Putting on a playlist while he cooked. Getting a bit of a head start before Y/n knocked on his door. 
     Minho cleaned off his hands before answering the door. Finding Y/n behind the door, in more house clothes than her business suit she had on at work. 
     “How’d your meeting go?” He asked as she stepped inside.
     “Pain in my ass,” Y/n sighed 
     “That bad?” Minho asked as he closed the door
     “Lot of denying of what he was doing over at the branch and saying he’ll sue,” Y/n sighed as she slipped her shoes off
      “I’m sorry,” Minho sympathized and wrapped her up in his arms. 
     “Just my job,” Y/n sighed, wrapping her arms around him
     “Want some wine while I finish cooking?” he asked
     “Yes please.” 
     Minho led her into the kitchen and poured them both a glass of wine before he went back to cooking. Steering the conversation away from work for the rest of the night ending up on the couch together watching a movie. His arm wrapped around her as she leaned into him. 
     “Thank you for cooking again tonight,” Y/n told him. 
     “Any time,” Minho told her
     Y/n looked up at him and smiled. Minho smiled back and laid his forehead on hers. “Wanna stay the night?” he asked 
     “Want me to stay the night?”
     “Not admitting that.”
     “I’d love to stay the night,” Y/n laughed
     Minho smiled and pulled her closer to him. Y/n smiled and cupped his face in her hands.
     “Can I kiss you?” Minho asked after a moment of silence between them 
     “Thought I told you you didn’t need to ask,” Y/n said
     Minho leaned in, capturing her lips between his. Their lips moved in sync as his hand dropped from her shoulder to her waist. Pulling her just slightly closer to him. 
     Y/n swung her leg over his lap and pulled herself on top of him and he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. 
     Y/n pressed her lips back onto his as he kept a grip on her hips. Hands slipping down to her ass and grinding her against him. Y/n moaned into his mouth as her hands slipped into his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. 
     Minho ran his tongue over her bottom lip before pushing his tongue into her mouth. Y/n pushed her tongue against his, the two muscles dancing together between them before Y/n pulled away to catch her breath.
     Minho attached his lips to her neck, moving one hand from her ass to hold the back of her head. Tilting her head back a bit, allowing himself more room to work with. 
     “All mine,” Minho mumbled against her skin on instinct
     Y/n felt her body heat up as the words passed through her ears. There’d only been a few other times she and Minho had slept together but she’d never heard any possessiveness out of him— even though he warned her he was the possessive type. But the two little words did something to her. 
     “‘m yours,” Y/n moaned. 
     Y/n watched him pull back from her neck and looked up at her. “Yeah? My pretty kitten?” he smiled, watching her face flush ever so slightly 
     “Mhmm,” Y/n answered 
     “Be my girlfriend?” he asked, gently kissing the side of her neck 
     “Yes,” Y/n answered before he pulled her back down to his lips. His tongue found its place in her mouth again. 
     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hands crept up her shirt. His warm hands gave her goosebumps. Y/n tipped his head back a bit, deepening the kiss. Minho smiled and dipped his fingers under the band of her bra before he pulled back from her lips to attach them to her neck again. 
     Y/n let out a soft moan as he gently sucked on the skin below her ear. Kissing the mask before moving down and adding another. 
     “Min,” Y/n whined as she pulled up the back of his shirt. 
     “Yeah, kitten?” he asked
     “Bed,” Y/n briefly said
     “Need daddy to pound you into his bed again?” 
     “Mhmm.”
     “Words, kitten.”
     “Yes. Please, Daddy.”
     “Good girl.”
     Minho grabbed her thighs and stood up with her. Y/n quickly wrapped herself around him as he smiled. Walking her to his room down the hall before pinning her down onto the bed. Grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing the material to the side. 
     Y/n smiled at him as he leaned back down and kissed her again. Moving one hand up her shirt again and cupping one of her breasts. Gently massaging the mound as his lips moved in sync with hers. 
     “Min,” Y/n whined against his lips 
     “Making you feel good, kitten?”
     “Mhmm.”
     Minho pulled away from her lips and sat up, “How about you strip for me? Let daddy see you, mhm?”
     Y/n eagerly stripped off her clothing, tossing it elsewhere in the room as her boyfriend watched her, palming his bulge through his gym shorts. Smiling as she laid back flat on the bed. 
     “So obedient,” Minho chuckled as used his free hand to gently rub over her clit as he got down on his stomach. Getting face to face with her cunt. 
     Y/n watched as his hands trailed up her body as he leaned in and tentatively licked her folds. Y/n let out a small moan as she grabbed his hands, guiding them up to her breasts. Feeling his lips wrap around her clit. 
     His hands gripped her breasts as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. Rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as he let his tongue roam over her clit and hole. Teasing her by dipping the tip in before pulling away and sitting up. 
     Y/n watched him sit up a bit before bringing a hand back down to her clit. Two fingers ran between her folds before he leaned down and let a glob of spit fall from his lips and onto her clit. Y/n jerked at the contact before he spread it over her. Dipping one finger into her. 
     Y/n arched her back slightly as he curled his finger up into her. Spreading her legs open more with his other hand. 
     “More, please.” Y/n begged 
     “Greedy kitty needs another finger in her?” Minho laughed yet complied. Pushing a second finger inside her. Feeling her clench around his fingers as he slowly worked her open. Leaning over her body before dipping his head down. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth. 
     Y/n wrapped her arms around his head and lightly tugged on his hair. “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his fingers barely grazed the soft spot inside her.
     Minho chuckled as he lightly bit her nipple before pulling away from her and releasing the bud. He lightly blew on the skin and watched it pebble. Minho smiled and gave the same treatment to the other nipple as his palm pressed against her clit, rubbing the bud ever so slightly. 
     Every single whine was music to Minho’s ears. Picking up his pace as her walls grasped his fingers before he felt her cum coat his fingers. “Good girl,” Minho praised her as she rode out her orgasm. 
     He kissed up her chest to her neck and pulled his fingers out of her. Hovering his fingers over her mouth. Y/n opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers. Cleaning them off before he pulled them out of her mouth with a smile. 
     He leaned over and grabbed a condom from his bedside table before sitting up on his knees. Minho pulled his shorts and boxers down. Y/n watched him spring up from the fabric, red tip leaking with precum. 
     Minho tore open the foil and grabbed the rubber. Tossing the packaging to the side and rolling the rubber down his length. Stroking himself as she held her legs open for him. Chuckling a bit as he lined the tip up at her whole 
     “Imagine if the whole office knew their boss was such a whore for her secretary,” he teased, pushing himself into her fully 
     Y/n moaned as her walls hugged his cock. He grabbed hold of the back of her knees and pushed her legs down more. 
     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned 
     Minho pulled back and started thrusting into her. Starting at a slower pace and gradually picking up. “Been thinking about this all day. Walking into the office in that damned skirt.”
     “Should’ve fucked me— oh fuck— on my desk.” Y/n moaned 
     “Yeah? Want me to bend you over your desk? Fill you up in the morning with my cum instead of bringing you coffee?”
     “Yes!” 
     Minho smiled as he moved one hand down and rolled his thumb over her sensitive clit again. Moans leaving her lips that he was sure his neighbors would complain about later but he didn’t care all too much at the moment. 
     His own moans left him as she squeezed him. Her cunt fluttered around him as he pulled a second orgasm from her. Her body was shaking under him as he picked up speed. Working himself towards his own orgasm. 
     His high hit him just as she came down from hers. Burying himself inside her as his cum filled up the rubber. His hand grabbed onto the sheets under her as he rode out his high. Occasionally thrusting into her before he was finished. 
     “Is it too soon to say I love you?” Minho asked
     “I don't think so,” Y/n said
     Minho leaned down and kissed her for the umpteenth time that night. Though, much slower this time. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he hooked her legs around his waist. “I love you,” Minho mumbled against her lips
     “I love you too,” Y/n mumbled back
     Minho pulled back and looked down at her, “Let me get you cleaned up.”
     “Mhmm was hoping for round two,” Y/n said
     “We’ve got all night. Don't worry about that,” Minho smiled 
     “How about all weekend?” Y/n asked
     “Like that even better.”
     Y/n smiled before he pulled out of her. Getting up to grab a towel, and coming back to clean her up. 
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☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR
☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback
© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE
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forcedagere · 3 months ago
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I personally really like the idea of Bill x Reader x Ford. This one kinda ties into my previous post, but it’s not required reading. I suppose this would be an AU where Ford accepted Bill’s offer during Weirdmaggedon, or something else went wrong resulting in Bill staying in power :)
Contents: forced age regression, yandere, implied mental manipulation
Whereas Bill is far from the best caretaker (though he tries, in his own way), Ford takes care to create a semblance of structure in your life. He doesn’t have tons of practical experience with children or little ones such as you, but he makes up for it with dedication. He takes to caring for you as if it were a newly discovered, fascinating field of study. In other words… He reads many, many books, and tries all kinds of things to figure out what you like best.
Ford is not entirely fond of the kind of dynamic you have with Bill. It's not because he doesn't want to be referred to with parental terms, that's simply a matter of preference, but that he insists on you being friends above anything else. Considering the dynamics at play here, Ford cannot help but view it…
"As simply pedagogically irresponsible, Bill." The triangle in question rolls his eye. "Oh, boohoo! Fancy McFancypants over here knows what’s up!” Bill glances at you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you crack a smile while you’re sketching away with your crayons, he’s encouraged. “You read one book on how to raise a kid, and now you wanna tell me what to do? Get lost. Kid, c'mon, prove him wrong-- I'm your favourite, right?" You look up from your latest piece of art. You are drawing all three of you, in fact. You're usually deaf to their arguments, it's such a constant that you've grown used to the noise and stopped viewing it as a threat. (Your daddy calls it 'bickering'; Billy, when daddy isn't listening, calls it 'flirting'. That makes you giggle.) But you don't like getting involved in it yourself! So you firmly shake your head, and drop the pacifier attached to your necklace to speak. "No favourites… I love you both," you say with the confidence only someone as little as you could have. Billy's eyelid flutters, and your daddy smiles.
To put it simply, Bill is the ‘fun, rule-breaking parent’ and Ford is… A little less that. One should not take Bill Cipher as the benchmark of taking good care of a human, though.
Ford will make sure your meals are more varied than the endless stream of candy that Bill feeds you, and get you tucked in for sleep at regular times, too. Compared to Bill, who enjoys playing games with you and ‘roughhousing’, Ford prefers calmer activities. He’s definitely up for the occasional board game, but, most of the time, he’ll read to you, make drawings upon requests (or give you lessons!), or toy around with science experiments safe for someone who gets the urge to put anything that looks interesting inside their mouth.
He might’ve taken you for an adventure or two outside, but… The world hasn’t been the same since Bill got his hands all over it. He may be technically immortal now. You decidedly are not, as far as he knows. Either way, he doubts that Bill would let you out of this room to begin with. He doesn’t have to ask to be able to know that. If there is any reason he would keep someone locked up the way he does with you, it must be because you have some form of special connection to him. Ford does not believe he would risk that.
Really, Ford isn’t stupid or blind. It’s not that he’s going along with all of this because he is ignorant of Bill’s manipulation of your mental state. Bill can call it a ‘nudge in the right direction’ all he wants. He’s keeping you regressed. But everything has changed. He has changed, and Ford doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He fears he hasn’t. (Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, a Stanford must live who made a difference decision. Ford hopes he’s happy.)
Spending time in this little contained room, with something dependent on him and eager to be looked after by him, who doesn’t know better and never will… It’s not good, it’s the very definition of selfish, but it’s comforting to him. Grounding, in a sense. With an eternity of time left ahead of him and the foundations of his previous life all but crumbled, he has something steady to return to. It doesn’t matter how much he rationalizes it. It’s twisted and fucked up, plain and simple.
…He supposes he can understand why Bill finds him so amusing, even now.
A little whimper snaps him from the spiral of his thoughts. Your bottle is empty. He should get youa refill, then pull you back on his lap.
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whumpsday · 7 months ago
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Kane & Jim AU: Slow Cooked
Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist
content: vampire whumpee, torture, burns, body horror / gore, isolation, touch starvation, rescue, caretaking
just some whump that wouldn't leave my head. i'm on an AU kick. 2 pieces in a day!! woo!!! also posted a catharsis chapter earlier :D
-
It was day one-thousand one-hundred and thirty-three since they’d left Kane in the sun.
Unlike in his cell, it was easy to count the days out here. Impossible not to, unless he lost count amid the endless pain. He couldn’t see, hadn’t opened his eyes in years, but fire licked at his toes once more, slowly working its way up.
Kane did not scream. The last time he’d screamed, a hunter had wrapped a cord around his throat and threatened to leave it there forever if he made another sound, leaving his lungs perpetually empty. That was day 14.
He had air. As his already burnt-beyond-recognition body lit up once more under the unforgiving heat of the sun, Kane reminded himself he could breathe. It was the only thing he had left.
It hurt. It hurt, hurt, hurt, always. There was no end to it, not even at night, when his wholly maimed form was given far too little time to even start to heal. There was only agony at night and more agony in the day.
He missed his cell. He would do anything to go back to his cell, in the blessed dark.
The morning sun rose enough to reach his face, his entire body once again swallowed as he burned alive.
Please. Please make it stop. Please, somebody help me! I’ll do anything. I just need it to stop. Mercy.
Every day, the same wish, unanswered. Kane was left to his unbearable existence, forgotten.
-
Somebody touched him. It was the first time Kane had been touched in over three years.
It was a light touch, just the graze of what he thought to be a hand to his jawline. Not enough to make it hurt more than it already did. Whoever it was said something, but he couldn’t make it out. Melted flesh had filled his ears for quite some time.
Kane did not move. He didn’t think he was capable of moving, anymore. But he had to do something. Maybe if he did, they’d let him inside, just for a little. Just for a few days. He would do anything to be allowed inside for a few days, even if they tortured him.
Please, I need help, please help me! Make it stop!
A small, raspy whine escaped the back of his throat, muffled further by his sealed-shut lips. It was all he could manage.
The hand retreated.
If Kane was capable of crying, he would. If Kane’s tear ducts hadn’t melted away under the sun years ago, he’d never have stopped.
Please. Please. Somebody. Help me.
His heart cried out, yearning for the touch to return. Even if they never helped, even if they hurt him. He just needed to feel for one moment like he wasn’t alone.
He keened again, a quiet thing, though he tried. Wordless begging to not be left.
The hand returned to his cheek, and he quieted once more. If the agony never stopped, at least he had this. The ability to breathe, and one gentle touch.
Without warning, something pierced his chest, and his cursed consciousness was blissfully lost.
-
Kane did not wake outside.
His arms and legs were no longer spread into the corners of the board, ensuring every vulnerable inch of his front was exposed to the sun. The board no longer touched his back, in fact. Instead, he laid on something soft. The sun did not shine.
Either it was nighttime, or he’d been allowed inside.
It was almost unthinkable that he’d be allowed to rest on something soft and let inside. Surely, it had to be nighttime.
Despite his relative freedom–he could still feel a shackle on one ankle, not silver, but nothing else–he was far too mangled to move around. He simply laid there, trying to bask in the wonder of the soft thing.
“Kane?” a voice asked, hours later. He could hear it, he realized. His ears were cleared.
He knew that voice. That was the human’s voice. Jim’s voice.
The fragile hope that he might be allowed to remain on the soft thing vanished.
“Are you awake?” Jim asked. “I saw you… twitching and stuff.”
He would cry if he could. He was crying, he realized, tears falling down his burnt-up cheeks.
“It’s okay, don’t be scared. I mean, that’s–that’s a tall order, yeah. You’re not going out there again. You’re gonna be okay.”
That gentle hand returned, to his hair this time. There wasn’t much of it left, he was reasonably sure. Jim stroked what was there, his touch feather-light, like he was afraid Kane would break into pieces.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. It’s over,” Jim promised. His voice shook like he might be crying, too.
Kane wanted to believe it so, so badly. It was everything he’d ever wanted, for someone to help. Finally, finally, for the pain to end. It hadn’t even ended yet, his body was a horrific mess of seared skin, but it had been promised. No one had ever promised to help before.
He couldn’t be dreaming. It never hurt this badly in dreams, his only refuge.
“Can you open your mouth?” Jim prompted.
No. He couldn’t. He tried, just to prove it, and…
His lips popped open, revealing a perfectly-preserved, unburnt mouth.
How long had he been out? Days? Had he not been touched by the sun for days?
“You’re doing great,” Jim encouraged. “I know you’re hurting pretty bad right now. So, um, I just…”
“Here, I’ve got it.” A different voice, female, unfamiliar. Before Kane could even worry about who she was, a lid opened with a pop, and the smell of blood filled the air.
Kane did manage more than a whine, then. A desperate howl of need.
The blood poured into his mouth, cold and refreshing and salty and sweet. There was so much of it. He drank and drank and drank until there was no more. He was actually sated for once.
“That’ll help him heal faster?” Jim asked.
“Yeah. Should do the trick.”
“...Do you think he’ll be mad at me?”
Mad? How could he possibly be mad? Jim took him away from the sun. Jim let him inside. Jim gave him blood. He was going to be allowed to heal!
“I think he’ll just be happy to be out of the sun,” the other voiced his thoughts.
There was a creak on the soft think–a bed? A couch?--as someone sat next to him. “Three years ago, the hunters told me they had you,” Jim said.
Three years. That was the end of it, then? Kane had paid his price, he wouldn’t have to do it anymore? It felt too good to be true.
“I told them to kill you,” he continued. “I was scared. I thought you would be like… before. I thought you would come after me. I didn’t know what they were doing, and they told me they’d done it. I thought you were dead. I never wanted you to suffer, not like this.”
Did that mean no more? It was truly over?
“No m-more?�� Kane rasped out, his voice struggling to find itself after so long.
“No more.” That gentle touch returned to his hair, and for the first time in years, there was hope.
-
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lovesickeros · 1 year ago
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]
{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]
Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.
It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.
Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.
She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.
She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.
Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.
And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.
She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.
So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.
Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.
..A dangerous prize, too.
She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.
"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.
He looked out of breath, she noted.
The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.
He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.
"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."
Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.
But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.
So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.
If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.
Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.
What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..
The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.
So if not the prophecy, then what?
Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.
She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.
..A draw, perhaps.
The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.
She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.
Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.
She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.
She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.
"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."
All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.
With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.
Each piece had it's purpose.
Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.
She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.
It was almost too easy.
She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.
The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest�� listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.
She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.
With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.
Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.
She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.
Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.
The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.
Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.
..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.
She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.
"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..
Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.
Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.
It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.
She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.
And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.
She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.
"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"
Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..
The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!
"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."
Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.
"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"
..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.
She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.
"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.
Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."
Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.
"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?
She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?
"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."
The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.
"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"
Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.
"Have you no answer?"
The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.
Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.
"I will kill them myself."
Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.
"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."
They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.
"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"
Did she?
"Will you help me?"
She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.
"..Yes."
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#imposter au#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#arlecchino#lyney#furina#you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic#trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually!#I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew#anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks#also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth#furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road#arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11#shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay#hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS#ehe :]#is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!!#shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies#anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D#also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty#bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat..#reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay#they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more#a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)
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capitan-copi · 5 months ago
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bloodyknucklesforme · 8 months ago
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Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU
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After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods
Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic
Chapter 1: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
5.5k words
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It smelled like Summer. Ozonic and earthy, carried into your car by the breeze as you drove North through winding roads. Montpelier was two hours behind you now. 
Despite the eighty degree heat, Vermont was lush and green. Only a couple more miles of shaded forest roads before you reached camp. At least you hoped so. Your maps app had been slow to load the last twenty miles.
The place was North, nestled between the border of Canada and the New Hampshire state line. It was gorgeous though. Anytime you thought about moving out of New England to somewhere cheaper the next season changed your mind. The trees just didn’t look as pretty in fall or the snow as splendid in winter. You just wished it was cheaper.
Suppose that’s why you took this job, as much as it didn’t appeal to you. Camp counselor for seven long weeks, the pay was shit but your food and board came free. After a bad breakup you didn’t have time to find a new lease so your life was packed up into a rented storage box with anything valuable shoved into the back of your car. 
A friend of a friend recommended it. She’d been working here for years, attended for even more. She was an old money New Englander. Boarding school outside of Boston and all that. She was nice though. Got you the job over any qualified candidates. It wasn’t nepotism but whatever it was called you wouldn’t complain.
Your car dinged. Low gas. Shit.
Scrolling quickly through the map you saw a gas station up ahead. You’d just make it… hopefully. 
You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled into the station. It was older with dusty windows and sun-faded posters for cigarettes. 
A piece of paper was taped to the pump.
“Reader broken. Pay inside” scribbled in sharpie.
You sighed and headed inside. 
It was dusty inside too. A couple aisles of brightly packaged food and walls lined with fridges filled with beer and soda. The man behind the counter glanced up from his book when you walked in.
He was handsome. Black with dark, short cut curly hair and big brown eyes. Much too handsome to be working in the middle of nowhere. He’d look more fitting in the corner of a bar, buying you a drink. He smiled up at you and your heart might have skipped a beat. 
“Pump three? How much?” He was English… strange.
“Just…uh… ten bucks.” You stumbled out. 
“It’s the accent,” he chuckled. “It throws everybody off the first time.” 
“It’s a strange place for an Englishman to be, I guess.” You swayed awkwardly. 
“I go to Middlebury. Easier to get a summer job than fly home.” He shrugged. 
“Understandable.” You weren’t an expert on Vermont geography but you swore the college was on the other side of the state. 
“Ten on three.” He said, nodding his head towards the window.
“Oh yeah. Thank you.” 
“You still got to pay, love.”
“Oh fuck, yeah. Sorry… uh… Kyle.” You read his name tag before digging through your tote bag, finding the last bit of your cash.
“No worries. What brings a girl like you out here.”
“I’m working at the camp.”
“Weldon lake, right?”
“Yeah. First time… I’m going the right way, right?”
“If you continue up the road. There will be a sign when you need to turn.” He handed you your receipt. 
“Thank you.” 
“Hey!” You were half way out the door when he called. “Stay alive out there. Heard the campers can be down right evil.”
“I’ll try!”
The rest of the journey was smooth, there was a sign just like Kyle said. Another one after that taking you down a long gravel drive and into a dirt parking lot. A couple other cars were there already. 
You made sure everything important was locked up in the trunk before grabbing your duffel bag and tote. You hoped you brought enough sunscreen. 
The sun was warm on your back as you made your way up to the main building. Two other girls were hanging around on the porch. They each wore matching white baseball shirts with red sleeves and trim, each labeled with STAFF on the back. 
“Hey, you’re Sophia’s friend, right? I’m Janie.” She jumped down from the porch fence. “I love your braids by the way.”
You’d done your hair before leaving, figuring it’d be easier to keep clean braided than fight for limited shower time. 
“I’m Natalie,” The other girl greeted. You introduced yourself, thanking Janie for the compliment.”
“I think your cabin is next to mine. I can take you over once you check in.” Janie said.
Check in was easy enough. Sign a couple more papers, show off your ID to prove you were you and get your cabin assignment, key and two staff shirts. Tomorrow was orientation before the campers arrived Monday morning. Tonight was for getting to know everyone. 
“So, where’s this cabin?” you asked, walking outside.
The girls grinned and led you down the path. Everything seemed to branch off from here. They pointed out where the dining hall was just past the main office next to the nurse’s station.
“Don’t expect much. They’re still recovering from when Covid almost killed this place.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. They had to raise fees and a bunch of parents freaked out. Guess an extra hundred dollars really threw all the millionaires off.” Natalie laughed. 
Next was the pool, fully fenced in and surrounded by two tennis courts and two basketball courts on either side. 
“Hey lasses!” A man called from the pool, leaning over the chain link fence. Natalie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s the new girl?”
He had a thick Scottish accent. Lots of transplants for the area, you guessed. He was also handsome. Muscular with a dark mohawk and light eyes. He was shirtless with very short and tight red shorts on and a silver whistle around his neck. He was dripping water over the ground.
“You say that like you aren’t also the new guy, Johnny!” Natalie called, clearly annoyed already. 
“Nat hates him.” Janie giggled. 
“It’s been three hours and he’s already tried to fuck half the counselors. He’s a dog.”
“One I’d put on a leash.” Janie laughed.
Johnny walked over, still dripping wet. His crocs squeaked with every step. 
“Johnny,” he grinned, holding out his hand to you. You introduced yourself as he shook your hand excitedly. He had a tattoo on his side, up by his ribs. You couldn’t see all of it but it looked like a heart with someone’s initials in it. S and something else, you couldn’t tell for sure. “Beautiful name for a beautiful gal.”
Your cheeks felt hot as his blue eyes traveled over your body. 
“It’s going to be a fun seven weeks with all you bonnie lasses around.” He grinned. Nat looped her arm around yours.
“Down dog. We still have half the camp to show off.”
“You know where to find me. Pool looked like the lake when I got here.” He raised his hands up as he walked backwards towards the pool again.
“Come on, before we lose Janie.”
“He’s hot!” She defended. 
“You just like him because he got your name right on the first try.”
“He’s intelligent too!”
The cabins were next. Ten white painted buildings split in half with about eight beds on each side and a shared bathroom in the back. They formed a circle around a fire pit with log benches. 
You had cabin room 14. Janie was the building next door in 15 and Nat with 16 sharing with her. They took turns explaining everything.
“Your bed is the only non bunk and the chest underneath locks so anything you don’t want the campers to find should go there.”
“Basically all your shit. I had a copy of Crime and Punishment stolen last year. Fucking Crime and Punishment like any of these kids could read Dostoevsky.”
“Showers are in the back. Hot water is sparse so if you want some, move quick and early.”
“Breakfast is at 8. Coffee tastes like shit unless you pour half a pound of sugar in it.” 
“You can vape just outside but if you smoke you gotta ask your neighbor counselor to watch your kids. At least thirty feet away or they’ll snitch too.”
“Weed is only for days off because they'll either snitch or demand you share. That goes for kids and counselors.” 
“Days off are randomly assigned but you should get one every other week.”
“I don’t recommend sleeping with other counselors but if you must, go to your car.” Natalie said. 
“We’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is in an hour. You can meet everyone else then.”
“Thank you guys for everything.” You felt overwhelmed just a bit. 
They left, still arguing about Johnny. He was cute but the break up wounds were still fresh. You didn’t want to sneak around either. You weren’t a teenager anymore.
You haphazardly dumped the contents of your duffle into the lock chest before shoving it back under the bed. You had seven weeks to organize it. 
The bed was okay. A plastic covered mattress with an old sleeping bag. You should have brought your own pillow. Maybe a Target run on your next day off whenever that was. 
The ache in your muscles from driving all day hit hard the moment you sat down. 
There was a knock on the door. 
“Hey sleepyhead!” Sophia came in. You rubbed your face as you woke up. Out the window you could see the sky looked darker, a blue summer evening. “I’m glad you ended up coming.”
“Yeah. Thanks for getting me the job.” You stretched, your shoulders cracking. “It’s nice to get away.” 
“I’m sorry about you and Ale.” There it was. She was nice but always craved gossip. 
“It’s okay. Just wanted different things.”
You shrugged. It wasn’t a bad breakup, no arguing, just a slow and painful demise. He’d even offered to let you stay with him when the lease ended and he found out you didn’t have a place to go. You chose this instead. 
“Well, let’s get you something to eat. The food is incredibly mediocre but I heard a rumor that the lifeguard has beer and weed for the fire pit.”
She was not wrong about dinner. Hot dogs with a slice of Kraft cheese melted on top with a bag of chips as a side. 
You sat with Nat, Sophia and Janie. 
“There are my lovely ladies!” Johnny sat down, forcing his way between Cel and Sophia. Nat looked like she wanted to kill him. “Coming out to the lake tonight? Hope you all brought swim suits or birthday suits.”
“Jesus Christ.” Nat groaned. 
“I think we’re gonna have an easy night. Some of us had long drives.” Sophia motioned to herself and you. “Just some girl time.”
Johnny pouted. 
“Fair enough but I do expect all of you at the bonfire tomorrow.” He pointed at all of them, even Nat. “Especially you new girl.”
He got up and jogged off to another table of girls. 
“Am I allowed to call him a slut?”
“What happened to dog?” Janie asked, raising an eyebrow. 
“Dogs can be trained.” 
You all laughed. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. All the other girls knew each other for years at this point. Janie and Sophia had been coming here since they were kids. Nat met Janie in high school and got a job as a junior counselor with her the first chance they got. 
It wasn’t a super attractive job and the pay was shit but it looked good on resumes and college applications apparently. Showed responsibility. Most of your experiences with camp were from horror films. 
The sun was still out as the four of you walked back. Sophia was your cabin neighbor, taking care of room 13. It’s where you all gathered. 
Sophia and you sat on her bed while she did your nails. 
“Red looks nice on you.” It was a bright cherry red. She’d picked it out, saying they should all match. 
The evening was spent talking and laughing. You asking questions about camp life and getting advice from the other girls. 
You had friends back home but you were glad you fit in so fast. Any anxiety and fear for the Summer slipped away as the sun set. 
“I’m beat.” Nat yawned. It was almost midnight now. Janie agreed and the two wandered off back to their cabin. 
“I’ll head back too. Thank you for being so welcoming, Soph.”
“Absolutely! It’s nice to get fresh meat every once and a while. It can be tough with the kids so some people get jaded. I hope you have fun this Summer and if you don’t you can blame me.” She laughed. 
The air was cool on the little porch out front. Most of the other cabins had their lights off by now and the center was lit up with fireflies, neon yellow dots. 
There was an orange dot out towards the back of one of the cabins across the way. A cigarette. The man smoking it seemed larger than any counselor you’d seen but it was dark and he was half hidden behind the building. It was Johnny’s cabin, you think. He was big. 
He waved and you waved back. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. The little corner fell dark and you went into your side.
You didn’t realize how quiet the world could be as you curled up in your sleeping bag. No hum of electronics or cars. No people yelling above or below you. Just the stillness of the stars.
It was an early morning. Johnny was running around the circle of cabins playing music to wake everyone up. He was shirtless again and his shorts seemed shorter than the day before. You wouldn’t complain. 
“So why did you choose this wonderful vista as a summer job?” Johnny asked, jogging up next to you as you made your way to the dining hall. 
“Needed a break. Get out in nature for a bit. I grew up in the suburbs and just broke up with my boyfriend so I guess I wanted to breathe for a bit. You?”
“Running from my previous life of crime.” He smiled. “Nah, just also trying to get away. Was military back home, knee injury did me in. Didn’t know what else to do. Hiked part of the Appliachian trail. You know, it's the same mountain range as the Highlands. Felt like I had to see them. Haven’t really felt like going back home yet.”
“You hiked alone?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew that it was one of the longest and hardest trails in the country. 
“Had a mate with me but I’m on my lonesome now.” He opened the door for you. Sure, he was boisterous but he seemed harmless one on one. Maybe a little dogish but he wasn’t going to hump your leg unprompted. 
“Shirts are needed in the dining hall, Mactavish!” Sophia called. He held up his hands in surrender before fishing out a cropped muscle tee that had been shoved into his pocket. It was a nice change of pace to be around a man that wanted to show off his own skin rather than try to get girls to show theirs. 
You told yourself before you got here that you wouldn’t look for that kind of distraction. It wasn’t worth it, especially not this early. You could look though. No harm in that. 
Bacon, Eggs and self-serve cereal was today’s breakfast. You joined back up with the girls from last night. Orientation was supposed to take up most of the day so they encouraged you to grab a couple pieces of fruit and a protein bar.
“Only fill up your water bottle in here. There are fountains elsewhere but I think they taste weird.” Said Janie. 
You were put in a group with Johnny, Sophia, and another guy named Warren. He and Sophia were long term counselors so they gladly took on the role of being you and Johnny’s tour guide. Johnny had been hired because of his lifeguard training so he already knew the layout of the lake and pool. You were scolded for not having proper shoes for hiking.
“What’s your size? I might have an old pair in my car.” Sophia offered. “If not I think there’s an L.L.Bean like two hours away. We can go on our next day off.”
You weren’t sure if you could afford brand new boots so silently hoped that Sophia did have that old pair and they fit. 
“Don’t want ya getting blisters all summer.” Johnny said. He was doing the hike in crocs but apparently did have boots back at his cabin. 
You didn’t do the full trail but Warren pointed out the different routes and how difficult each one was and which ones kids could do by themselves and which ones they couldn’t. The fields were next. A soccer field and baseball field were across the way from the cabins. It was a loose definition of each. One was a huge patch of grass and the other a diamond of dirt. Both looked a little off size wise. There was the sports supply shed that had all the equipment in it. Only a couple counselors had keys to it.
“People kept using it inappropriately.” Sophia smiled.
There was the art building, the rec hall, a path leading towards the archery field and riflery field.
“Riflery?”
“Yeah. We used to teach kids how to shoot. Mostly clay pigeons but it was one of the programs cut after Covid,” Warren explained. 
“Shame I missed it. Could have taught the kids trick shots.” Johnny joked, pretending to aim a rifle backwards over his shoulder. 
The horse stable was also closed. Too expensive to have horses here for even half the season. 
The Lake was the last part of the tour. It was on the other side of the road so to get there was an underpass to get there. It was large enough for five adults to walk side by side comfortably but the yellow light from the lamps gave it a sickly vibe. 
It ended a little ways before the beach. There were several rows of Kayaks and another shed filled with life preservers and paddles. 
“Wow Johnny! You cleaned it up well.” Warren clapped him on the back. For a moment Johnny looked irritated that he’d been touched but he shoved that emotion out of the way to make room for his usual excited self. 
“Yeah. Cleaned up the best I could.”
“It looks great, Johnny.” You were impressed. He’d even sprayed the kayaks down, bright clean plastic in a rainbow of colors.
“Yer making me blush.” He laid a hand over his heart. 
The lake was gorgeous. Cream colored sand feeding into sapphire waters. You could just see the beach on the other side, a small empty dock with a path leading into the woods. The camp side had a floating platform about thirty feet into the water. 
“Campers have to swim there and back to pass the swimming competency test.” Sophia explained. “If you can’t swim on your own you’re stuck in the buoyed area.” 
There was a ten by ten foot area cordoned off by buoys, keeping to the shallow end of the lake. Made enough sense. No one wanted to fish a dead kid out of the water.
“Let’s head back. We don’t want to miss lunch.” Warren clapped his hands together. 
The four of you made the trek back to the dining hall. You did feel like blisters were starting to form on the back of your ankles. You’d have to put band-aids on them later. 
The rest of the afternoon was spent going over itinerary for the following week. Campers would arrive tomorrow between ten and six. It was a day mostly planned out for settling them in with an inaugural bonfire that night. After that it was seven weeks of regular old American camp adventures. 
You went back to your cabin the moment you had free time. Your ankles hadn’t started to bleed but they were bright red and throbbing. You applied the bandaids and grabbed another pair of socks to wear the rest of the way. 
There was about an hour and half before dinner and final orientation from the camp managers, who, you had been told, often made themselves scarce throughout the summer to avoid having to do their jobs. You settled on top of your sleeping bag. A nice breeze came in through the screen door. Janie had told you that it was the best way to keep the building cool.  
You thought about Ale. His smile and deep laugh. How he’d wake you up in the morning with kisses to the back of your neck. How he loved your hair and ass. How he’d whisper in Spanish to you. You still had the English/Spanish dictionary he gave you shoved in a box back in the city. You missed him. Your cowboy. He would have been so disappointed to hear the stables were closed. Maybe you’d call him after all this. Ask to work something out. 
You drifted off daydreaming about the scent of his cologne.
“Bonnie! You’re gonna miss dinner!” Johnny was knocking on the screen door. Maybe Nat was right in being annoyed by him all the time. 
“I’ll just miss it.” you sighed, rolling over on the bed. 
“You never know which meal is your last. Best not to skip any! C’mon or I’ll drag ya myself.”
You would have thrown a pillow if you had one. How did he always have so much energy?
He jogged literal circles around you on the way to the dining hall.
“How are your feet?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“You were limping on the way back to the cabins earlier.”
“Oh…yeah just blisters.”
He tutted at you. 
“Got to get you some good shoes soon.”
Dinner was the same hot dogs as the previous night with a bonus of a bowl of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and a slice of cucumber. 
There was an excited energy in the room. Most people who’d snuck in alcohol or drugs said tonight was the best night to use it all. An unspoken competition of who could drink the most and still function when the first campers started to arrive. It could be fun, you mused. You were never a big partier in college and what was this if not a perfect chance to make up for that. 
The boys built up a nice fire, each poking and prodding their own side with their favorite stick. You sat on one of the log benches next to Sophia and Janie. Johnny was across the fire, his arm around the waste of another girl counselor. Ceilidh you think it was. Pronounced like Kay-lee, she’d said. Pretty name, Gaelic. Made sense for him to go after a piece of home.
“Glad he’s finally left us alone.” Nat chuckled. 
“I think they’re cute.” Sophia said. You pushed down the twinge of jealousy you felt seeing her giggle at his joke. 
Warren came around with a cooler filled with a hodgepodge of beer. He was his fraternity’s president and one of his responsibilities was to get rid of any extra at the end of the term to avoid trouble. Dry campus issues. 
You grabbed a Modelo. Ale’s old go to and one you’d gotten used to drinking. It left a familiar warm feeling in your stomach.
You drank, you danced, you ate s’mores, you laughed with your new friends. The stars seemed so bright and clear out here. Janie had you all lay out on your backs in the grass nearby as she pointed out each constellation.
“That’s the big dipper and above it is the little dipper but Draco is the constellation between them. If you guys tell me your star signs I can point it out for you.”
There was laughter nearby and you glanced up to see Johnny and Ceilidh sneaking in the dark towards her cabin. 
You had another beer. And another. Maybe one more after that. 
Someone offered you a hit off a joint so you did that too. 
The four of you were laughing and stumbling back to Sophia’s cabin. You had no idea how late it was. The fire was dying out. Warren said he would make sure everyone got back inside all right. The designated driver of drunken counselors. He was a good guy. 
You found yourself laying on your side on one of the empty beds. Sophia and Janie were on her bed, half asleep against each other. Nat and you were talking about your childhoods. 
“I broke a bone three years in a row, each time in May. I missed field day every time. My mom once pulled me around in a wagon so I wouldn’t feel left out,” She laughed. 
“How did you break so many bones?”
“Catholic school where the playground was just a parking lot. I was a wild kid. I broke my arm tripping and falling against the priest’s car. I dented it too. I thought I was going to hell.”
There was a shrill noise. Loud and stomach dropping. A scream cut off. You and the other girls all jumped to attention. It was silent except for the crackling of the fire outside. 
“Fisher cat.” Janie said, trying to convince herself.
“Or a fox.” Sophia added. 
“Did you guys hear that?” Warren said, coming in. 
The four of you nodded.
“It sounded close. I’m gonna check it out.”
“By yourself?”
“One of the other guys is gonna come with me. It’s probably just an animal. If you see Johnny tell him to go check on everyone. I want a headcount before we all go to sleep.”
You all watched from the window as Warren met another guy holding a flashlight and a baseball bat. Sophia turned on the porch light. They disappeared between the cabin’s across the way. 
“Johnny and Celilidh went off together. Should we try to find them?” Sophia offered. 
“Maybe we should just stay here. Safety in numbers.” Janie answered. 
“Safety from what? It was just an animal.” Nat insisted. 
“Didn’t sound like an animal.” You thought. No one else would say it but you were all thinking it. A slide show of clips from horror films played through your mind. 
Four sets of eyes darted around, looking out windows and the front door, waiting for some masked killer to seep through the walls.
Bang!
You all screamed as Johnny flew through the door, clutching his stomach. 
“We have to go now!” He grunted. Blood was pouring between his fingers.
“Oh my god. What happened? Where’s Ceilidh?”
“Dead… fuck.. She’s fucking dead. Fucker came in through the window in the bathroom. I tried to fight him off. I’m sorry.” He gulped. “We have to go now!”
“You’re bleeding. Please let me look.” Janie reached out and he pushed her hand away. 
“Don’t have time. We have to go. Get my car keys. I can fit us all.”
“What about everyone else?” You asked. There was so much blood, it was dripping on the floor now. 
“I don’t know… when..when’s the last time you saw anyone?”
There was another scream from outside. Silence took you over again.
“Please… we can get out and get help but we have to go now.” Johnny pleaded. His bright blue eyes were watery and his tan skin was stained red down his legs. 
“I’m going.” Sophia said, grabbing her backpack. “Fuck this. I’m not fucking dying like it’s a movie. We’re all going. Johnny, do you need help?”
“No, I can manage. I need to get my keys though.”
“I have mine. We can just take my car. It’s an SUV.” Sophia urged, crouching down to look out of the door.
“No…no…I…I uh…I have a gun in my car.”
“You brought a fucking gun to camp?” Nat’s jaw dropped. 
“Old shotgun. It works. I’m trained for this. Get to the car and I… I can kill him.”
“You’re bleeding out, Johnny.” Janie cried, reaching for him again and once again being pushed away. 
“Come with me.” Johnny looked at you.
“I…I…I don’t know.” You were shaking. It didn’t seem real. Too cliche. A real life spree killer running around the woods of a Summer camp. Sophia was right, you didn’t want to die like it was some movie. 
“He knows I’m weak. He’ll go after me first. We’ll get my keys and if he shows up… you take them and run.”
“You..can’t sacrifice yourself.” Your voice warbled.
“It was my job to do that. If I can’t die saving my country, I’d like to die saving a group of pretty girls.”
Johnny was pleading. He seemed to know he couldn’t do it on his own. You thought about Ale saying you needed to stand up for yourself more. You never did. You didn’t stand up to bullies in high school, rogue professors in college or shitty demeaning bosses. You didn’t even stand up for yourself when Ale said he wanted a break. 
Nat was saying how you should all just run to Sophia’s car. She had her keys. Sophia was agreeing. Janie was crying silently. 
“I’ll go.” You forced the words out like vomit. It was that or actual vomit.
“Okay.” He almost smiled. “Sophia, turn off the lights. We’ll give you a signal when it's safe to come out. Then we all run to the parking lot.”
“What’s the signal?” Janie sobbed.
“I’ll whistle.”
You were shaking so much you worried you’d fall right down the front steps of the cabin. Johnny was in front of you, shoulders hunched up, his eyes darting everywhere. Sophia turned off the lights, leaving the two of you in near darkness. The fire was nothing more than orange smoldering logs. 
“You seem like you’ve done this before.” You said quietly, finding yourself holding the bottom hem of his shirt. 
“Like I said. It was my job.”
You walked on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise. Your heart cried for the others. Even if you didn’t know them. You didn’t hear or see anyone. Maybe they all got out? They escaped already…or the killer was chasing them deeper into the woods.
You didn’t want to die. In the movies it always seemed so prolonged. The stabbings and bleeding out. Johnny had been hurt and he was still going on, trying to save you and everyone else. 
“Stay here. I’ll go check to make sure it's clear.” He said. You’d made it to his cabin, whole body still shaking just on his porch now. Your heart leapt into your throat as the door creaked open. 
“Be careful, please.”
He winked at you before heading in. You picked at the skin around your nails, a nasty old habit that you tried so hard to kick. You could forgive yourself for this relapse. It seemed an appropriate time to scratch out anxiety.
The step behind you creaked. Any light from the fire was blocked out. A arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you flush with a wall of muscle. You screamed for Johnny as a knife cut into your stomach.
It hurt worse than you thought it would. He was stabbing you over and over. All those movies and none prepared you for the sound that came from being stabbed yourself. The rush of blood in your head. You kicked and scratched the best you could, catching the gap of skin between his gloves and sleeves. Flesh caught under your nails and tore. The knife cut sideways across your stomach. Something wet and heavy hit the floor by your feet.
“Fucking cunt.” The man growled. You could have thrown up if it didn’t feel like your stomach had been torn open. 
You hit the porch face first, no strength left to even try to hold yourself up. Blood pooled in your mouth. He stepped around you and in the corner of your eye you could make him out. 
Large, well over six feet and bulky with large shoulders. A half skull mask covered the top part of his face. His head was buzzed. He had a hunting knife in his hand and it dripped your blood onto the wood and onto your face. 
“Johnny!” Your killer called. You’d doomed him too. He could have gotten away. Johnny would die and it would be your fault. They all would now and it was your fault. 
You closed your eyes as the throbbing subsided. You didn’t want to listen. He was so nice. He didn’t deserve it.
You didn’t deserve this. 
You closed your eyes and let yourself slip away. 
You heard music. Loud obnoxious music and singing from an off key baritone scot.
You opened your eyes and you were in your sleeping bag in your cabin. It was Sunday morning again. 
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Shout out to @ceilidho for being an inspiration to me to write darker fics and letting me use her name for a counselor.
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sevs-corner · 1 month ago
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Tf 141: Mafia AU!
Chapter 3: Home Not-So-Sweet Home
{A/N: Link to prev ch + mini epilogue to the ch where it goes into another character's POV in that ch hehe } :
Preface:
So you meet the sons and the soul crashing reality reveal of what you found yourself in the middle of. You thought that getting a job was hard? This circustry of a shit show was on a whole another level, one for which you refuse to involve yourself in adamantly.
Yet that gets swept under the rug as the chores pile on again and this time with a promise of getting your end of the bargain much earlier than you estimated.
But at what cost?
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‘At the cost of my life!’ You internally scream, ‘the whole nine yards of it!’
After that bombshell of a reveal, and you losing another a piece of your soul with it— as they (unanimously forced by Nonno) decided to let that sit and stew with you as you got placed into the same room you woke up in.
“Ridiculous!” You cursed yourself, “what are the chances?!”
You wanted to rip your hair out at this point from how skewed your priorities were at the moment.
The minute you agreed, once again, to a damn proposal by the old man-- you got yourself fucked in the ass!
'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice,'
"Shame on me," you mutter, your pace now slowing down as your distress subsides- thinking of better positives like, how losing a job and being out of it is still way worse! At least they were paying... right?
Oh, for fuck's sake- that money isn't even clean!
Although in times of struggle, you think of which weighs more- your hunger and comfort or your morals....
It was an easy pick, priorities were priorities after all- morals weren't gonna feed you on the street, a job was.
And an opportunity provided you with one!
With its own drawbacks of course, which meant that you were now tied to whatever family mafia this bakery started from. Which makes you question if... Nonno is or was... the big boss, the head muchacho, the el capitano, of the family.
"Cara," a knock sounds at the door, "can you let me in?"
'Speak of the devil...'
"Yeah," you gulped and approached the door, "its your shop, you know?"
The man laughs, as soon as your head peaked through the door to open it for him.
Nonno was quite tall for his age even with his back slightly hunched, but he had no need for a cane-- he still looked as lively as the photo on the pin board, just with salt and pepper colored hairs and it growing out at all of his possible orifices.
He looks like that type of old guy that reads the paper outside of coffee shops that open up in the wee hours of the morning. Kind, lowkey, keeps to himself, offering up a pleasant, "good day!" to whoever passes.
Yet, that gets skewed now with how your perception gets tainted with your previous thoughts of him being... that type of person.
"But your room." He simply counters, slowly entering the room and ending up by sitting by your bed, to which he pats his hand on.
Nodding, you approach him and sat where he signaled you to. Hands on your lap with your back as straight as a trained soldier, it was too easy to notice the uneasiness you were feeling. Which was quite the opposite of the vibe Nonno was exuding at the moment.
"So you want to work here?" Nonno asks, starting it off easy, to which you appreciated and replied in kind.
"I do," and you face him, "if you'd let me."
He smiles this time, gently grabbing your hands with one and patting it with the other.
"You're a good kid." He compliments confidently.
You pout, "that's kinda ironic for what I'm signing up to, isn't?"
He shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face, "so you've heard."
"Nonna said so," you shrugged, "I honestly wouldn't have figured that out if she didn't tell me otherwise."
This time he huffs, as if he couldn't believe his wife did such thing, but you think it might be because of a different reason from how that smile contrasts that far away look in his eyes.
"And you still want to work here?"
He asks after some moments of contemplation and you nod.
"And you're fine with us being affiliated with the mafia?"
You take a pause this time, reading into his wording.
"So," you slowly voiced out your concern, "you and Nonna aren't part of the mafia?"
He pats your cheek, shaking his head.
"Our children are. We just raised them, and naturally," he wistfully reminisces, "we couldn't let them go. 'Family is forever-' a creed that similarly works for them as well."
You took a breath in as you try to ingest the explanation you needed to hear, you wanted to hear more but it looked as if that it was taxing for the man to continue on.
So you gave him space, but he pulled you closer by tugging your hands, silently telling to not leave yet and hear him out more.
"People came and went at this bakery but they never left," he says so softly, his thumbs rubbing your clasped hands, trying to find his own means of comfort- whether you provide it or not.
But you did, and let him.
"and they wouldn't let someone like you left hanging by your own as well."
This time you had to raise at brow at his vague wording.
"But," you try to explain, "I just met them? I'm quite literally a stranger you met not even twenty-four hours ago."
You feel him pull you close, your head under his chin and you don't feel the instinctual urge to pull away at the moment.
"They're soft-hearted kids," you could feel his chest rumble, "they only want to help. We want to help."
You were a bit confounded but nodded anyways, not feeling like denying this right now would end well, so you try... to let it pass.
"You raised that bearded guy right then," you let out a chuckle of your own, "said the same exact thing-- even though it was said through Suds."
He pulls you away for a moment to look at you, asking who the hell is 'Suds' and you explained what happened earlier- making him bellow quite similarly to how Graves was earlier.
You smile at the similarity, now seeing how close these children might be to the old couple.
Maybe the reality you were in wasn't so bad. The five men you've met so far have been decent to you, and haven't quite attempted anything that made you consider them dangerous of the sort.
Maybe you can't take their words and actions as it is at the present, but you knew you could with Nonna and Nonno.
You had your own intuition, a personal vibe check of people you meet and you unconsciously do it with everyone; so you were quite sure that, if you had to work here and had to rely on someone-- they would be your best bet every time.
So you let the moment happen, accepting that if life had led you to this moment, it must be for a reason right? You could only that it was a good one at that.
After clearing up that murky air in your room, you offered Nonno your genuine appreciation.
"Though," you added on after a couple of giggles from the story you told him, "you shouldn't feel forced to help me. I'm happy to work the hours and for the meals you and Nonna have given me so far."
He huffs, standing up from your seated positions on the bed.
"To think that you have the audacity to assume that we're being forced to do anything at our age?"
You kinda had to laugh at that statement, it was quite excessive but truthful all the same.
"Just want to let you know that I'll still help around here if you need me to."
You both share a grin and a nod of agreement, understanding the feelings underneath all the words exchanged.
"Then let's put you to work!"
Nevermind.
You wished you hadn't let that moment happen.
Fate simply likes to toy with you and your existence apparently.
Right when you thought you could be on the same page with someone, they slap you with a dose of reality that your list of chores is unending and it needs to be worked on now.
After your chat with Nonno, he asked you to go and pick-up groceries for him.
In which you find yourself trapped between two men, where you could say that they could quite easily and thoughtlessly break you neck with their biceps and thighs alone.
"A'int no way Nonno would let someone pick up his groceries for 'im."
The man, standing intimidatingly hot in front of you, had a deep frown on his face- arms crossed in a wide legged stance that made it impossible for you to escape at any angle you tried to even attempt to wriggle through.
Especially not with his, stern and cute, buddy that held the same position but with a more stone-cold look on his face.
"Look," you sigh, "I don't know who you are but I'm just running errands for him."
You see them share a look, whispers of 'spanish?' you think that you picked up on but drop it when they turn to you again.
"Hard to believe that he would, pendejo."
You gave him an offended look but grunted, arms shaking from the amount of plastic and paper bags you had in your hands.
You find yourself in quite a predicament, all because you mentioned who the groceries were for when you entered a couple shops around the market district of the city.
The list, in of itself, was quite lengthy and all the more of the things you had to carry.
You only regretted now that you rescinded your acceptance of Ghost's assistance in shopping once he dropped you off here.
Maybe he would've warded off these weirdos with his presence alone, or slap a brand right in front of his jacket stating he was part of the mafia-- whichever way that could be easier and less humuliating than the moment where you're in right now.
Arms struggling to juggle the bags, legs shaky from all the walking you had to do, and just simply overly exhausted from the life you stumbled into not even 48 hours in since you had left your own city.
"What else do you want me to say then?" you grumble, wanting to get over with this so you could just catch the next bus already-- which was coming in quite close with a few minutes to spare.
"Proof," the more clean faced guy answers, hand held out as if you were going to something.
You aren't even able to hand them ANYTHING!
Though you were tired, tired of the conversation, and tired of them hustling you so you nodded, saying that the list Nonno wrote himself is in your jacket pocket.
The more scuffed bearded man nods, letting the other check your pocket and grab the paper hanging out of your pocket.
He opens it up and his eyes widen, offering it to the other guy who you noticed had cursed under his breath.
"Believe me now?" you ask sassily, although a bit out of breath at this point and they nod.
"Apologies chiquit@," the second guy apologies, a more welcoming grin on his face, "can't be too safe around this place, you know?" {A/N: spanish for little one}
"Uhuh..." you agree, eyes narrowing. "Can I leave now, then?"
They both shook their heads, which made your mouth open in complaint until they grabbed all the stuff from you- ruffling your feathers even more.
Like you didn't have enough problems in the world-!
"We're gonna get ya' back to the bakery," the second one explains and you let them, quite relieved that they got the stuff from you but you still had your guard up. "you were gonna catch the bus right? We can just bring you there."
You shook your head at that proposal. You- alone with two strangers that literally was one click away from ending your guts just because you knew someone called Nonno?
"I don't even know you people!" You accused, "If you ask me, don't you look strange for knowing Nonno and asking a stranger if they knew who he was?!"
They both looked at each other before cracking up in laughter, making you toss your hands up in frustration, furiously rubbing at your face as the blood started rushing to your cheeks.
"You really don't know huh?"
The less bearded guy asks, wiping an invisible tear from his eyes ad you nastily remarked back a, "i don't fucking know- so what?!" to which makes him cackle again by throwing his head back.
"I'm Alejandro," the other introduces, finally coming down from his own set of his giggles, but you could still see his chest stutter.
He slaps his other friend on the back, making him sputter but eventually introduce himself as "Rodolfo, my boss' right hand man," and he pats Alejandro on his shoulder, making them both grin.
And you stare.
And stare.
And...stare...
"Oh shit!"
You facepalmed.
This was the guy you were going to ask Nonna about in the photo at the pin board. You couldn't believe this guy existed in the flesh--
"You look so different from your picture!" You pointed at Alejandro who slightly tilts his head in confusion, "the one at the pin board at the kitchen!"
He nods and chortles, "well I was quite young then," realizing what photo you were referring to.
Your shoulders drop at this, that photo looked recent from how colorized and clean it was!
"Ah sorry," you apologized, "for my comment and not realizing you were Nonno's sons."
They waved their hands, a more easy-going pace exuding from them as the tenseness from the air dissipates.
"It's all good," Rodolfo reassures, "we we're just alarmed that Nonno allowed someone asides from himself to get his ingredients."
"We weren't even allowed to do it," Alejandro rolls his eyes, "that uptight viejo." {A/N: spanish for old man}
You nod in understanding... well only a bit because you didn't quite relate to that notion but agreed nonetheless.
"So," Alejandro smirks to you, "let's ride?"
Surprisingly, the ride wasn't even half bad, nor getting to know the two and their own mafia called Los Vaqueros.
The ride was quite long from the traffic so that gave you enough time to explain your situation and what you knew to them. You thought that, if they were Nonna and Nonno's sons anyways, you'll eventually meet them down the line while working at their place. You were bound to meet them one way or another, even though first meetings aren't your best first impressions.
By the time you got back, it was nightfall and the time to close up shop. Which meant, you were also clocked out for the day--
"once I get this all sorted, I swear I'll sleep so soundly tonight."
Your grumble made the two laugh.
Alejandro and Rodolfo stayed to help with sorting all the groceries after having a quick chat with Nonno- who you overheard had scolded them and got a TV remote slapped to the you think.
You could only assume from the buttons you could press on Rodolfo's cheeks really.
Either way, you were quite grateful for their help, even when they offered you a ride back to your co-worker's apartment.
You thanked the old couple profusely, and they could only roll their eyes in response, saying that it was not a problem and just go (even though they were the ones tightening their arms around you.)
"You take care kid." Nonno pats your head and bids you farewell kindly.
"Don't forget to come in early tomorrow!" Nonna reminds and bids you farewell not so kindly because of it.
Poking fun at your expression, the two were just so amused by how quickly both you and their parents had become so attached.
"Still can't believe your co-worker would put you in this damn place chiquit@." Rodolfo comments from the hood of the car, as he leans backwards to eye the rundown building that was in front of you three.
You shrugged, pulling closer your purse to look for the keys he gave you with the note.
Right... you couldn't find the note.
Oh, well- you guessed that you lost it in the rain that night.
"Well I had no choice, need a bed to sleep in and a place to call home y'know?"
They both frown at this but made no moves to stop you as you step into the building and ascend the stairs to the apartment.
"Thanks a lot Alejandro, Rodolfo." You smile, giving a little wave while they do the same.
"Just call us if you need anything!" Alejandro shouts and you grin, giving up a thumbs up before leaving their line of sight.
Leaving them to their thoughts.
"This is too suspicious," Rudy mutters, "smells like something is brewing."
Alejandro nods, "and we need to find out just what, amigo."
"That note," Price lifts said paper up and slides onto the middle of the table, "had the logo of a lamb's horn it."
The three men stand in shock, hands slamming on the table.
"Ya' mean..."
"Its him."
"Any other leads?" Gaz asks, now pacing around the room.
"This is the lead," Price points at the paper, "gave up finding the bastard and he willingly shows up." He mutters to himself, hand stroking his beard in thought.
"Boss," Ghost starts, "we need to interrogate her now."
"Oi," Soap counters, "not so fast sir."
"Why not?" Ghost growls.
"'Cause she's a bystander." Price explains, hands both faced down on the table.
"How are you so sure of that?"
"Ghost watch your tone," Gaz warns but backs down with the raised hand of Price.
"Why don't you test her then?" Price turns to Ghost- a knowing grin on his face, "see if you can squeeze out anything for us, hm?"
Ghost nods while Soap protests, but was silenced by both his superiors.
"I'll leave it to you then."
A/N: And that is ch 3 with more to look forwards to in the epilogue! I kinda imagined Alejandro and Rudy to be the more in-tuned characters with the reader, acting as your close friends of sorts while the story progresses so expect to see you interact with them a lot! Many much extra scenes to discuss on that so the update might take longer for that part <//3 Thank you for reading and giving my work some love hehe
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jackels-in-space · 21 days ago
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╔⏤╝GUILTY PLEASURE: PART 1╚⏤╗
Sevika was a war vet. She was a lieutenant. She was meant to be always be in control. In fact, her control issues was what made her good at making business deals for Shimmer Health but one comment from Ambessa Medarda, C.E.O. of Medarda Industries had her yearning for something different; she had a taste of submission and she wanted more. But that didn't align with the plan her girlfriend of seven years had for their life. She was Sevika's rock in this tumultuous life outside of the military and yet...she get's broken up with over the phone. It's Ambessa that's there to pick up the pieces.
Also posted on AO3 and gets updated first
WC: 2.3k
Tags under cut-off - no smut in this section but the story series is explicit
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Tags: Modern AU, Cheating Accusations, War Vet Ambessa, War Vet Sevika, Break Ups, Top!Sevika, Domme!Sevika, Top!Ambessa, Domme!Ambessa, Alcohol, Swearing
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There was a massive expo, hundreds of people from different companies coming together. It was Silco and Sevika’s hunting ground.
Shimmer Health was a leading medical company, having done work on making drugs available to the impoverished. Having made leaps and bounds with charitable organisations, it wasn’t hard to miss them. Now, they were intent on making a business deal with HexTek to fund their medical device research. 
“There they are,” Sevika muttered as she took a sip from her to-go coffee cup. 
Viktor, Jayce and Mel were standing on their podium, chatting to others. Renni and Margot had scouted out for them (the board of directors were nicknamed “the Chem-Barons”) and were striking up a conversation. In a moment, Margot would oh, so convincingly look around and aha! Silco and Sevika would be waved in for a conversation. 
Margot looked around.  
She casually spotted the duo. 
She raised a hand in greeting and- 
“Silco, Sevika, what a surprise to see you here.”
“I’m going to kill her,” Sevike muttered to Silco. “Go to HexTek. I’ll distract her.”
The duo turned around to see the leader of Medarda Industries , Ambessa Medarda, with her lackeys behind her.
“Ambessa,” Silco greeted politely. “Excuse me but I have some business to attend to. Sevika here is available to discuss M.I. and Shimmer .”
He clapped his business partner on the back before making his way to HexTek. Sevika saw the way the older woman’s face tensed, knowing that HexTek would be unable to discuss with her now (as if Mel would even let her own mother get close to her investment). 
Sevika downed the rest of her coffee, grimacing at the grains at the body of the cup before chucking it into the bin. 
“What can I do for you?” 
Ambessa's eyes didn’t leave hers, trying and succeeding at not looking at  and Sevika knew that there was nothing Shimmer had that M.I. wanted. The older woman was stuck playing nice lest other associates saw her real mean streak. 
“Oh, nothing much. Just wanting to see how you were getting on being on the outside.”
Sevika was a veteran, as was Ambessa. She had been medically discharged two years ago when an explosion damaged her left arm. It wasn’t gone and it didn’t need to be taken off but the significant scarring and nerve damage had hindered her. Sevika was five years out yet Ambessa kept asking. 
“I’m fine, thank yo-” Her phone rang and the younger businesswoman pulled it out from her back pocket. “Excuse me.”
She answered and her long term girlfriend was on the other hand. 
“Hey, Sevika…you have a moment?” 
“Sure, sure, just give me a second. Trying to get out into the car park.”
There was nervous laughter.
“Oh, yeah, right. It’s the expo today, isn’t it?’ 
“Yeah,” Sevika confirmed, making her way through people to the multi-story car park attached to the convention centre. “Everyone’s here.”
“How…how’s it going? You’ve been preparing for it for a while.” 
“Mmm, not too bad. Medarda tried to swoop in on HexTek but we got in before them. With the sales pitch we prepared, they’re as good as ours!”
“That's…that’s great.” There was a moment of silence. “ Are you good to talk now?” 
Sevika had made her way back to her car and had opened it up, reaching in for the packet of cigarettes she kept in her glove compartment. She sat down in the driver's seat, keeping the door open to ventilate as she lit up a smoke.
“Sure.” Sevika blew out smoke with the words. “Talk to me, Salim. What’s up?”
She heard a deep sigh.
“It’s…you know that conversation we had a while back? The one about switching up our roles?” 
Sevika hummed in affirmation. It was a while back, maybe six months or so ago. Sevika was the typical top and domme, always in control but then something had happened. In fact, it coincided with another expo, one where Ambessa was lurking around. She had barked an order at Sevika, telling her to get out of the way and Sevika…she…her brain broke and she realised how much she missed being told what to do. 
When discussed with her therapist, the shrink had suggested that Sevika give up control to the person she trusted and that…that was Salim. It was supposed to be simple, you know, just…rather than giving, Sevika would be receiving. She’d be put on the bed and lightly restrained whilst Salim did what she wanted. 
Salim wasn’t into that (which was fair, everybody had their own preferences) but it just…deflated Sevika. It was something she wanted to try and…it’s been nagging at Sevika. She really thought pillow princess were her thing and she loved Salim, she actually loved her, but man…the way Ambessa had stared her down and ordered her about. It made her pussy clench and it was definitely masturbation fodder.
“Yeah? I thought we were cool about it.” Sevika took a deep inhale of her cigarette, her nerves fully on edge. “We talked about it. I-”
“Are you punishing me?” Salim blurted out. “Because the sex just isn’t what it was since that conversation.” 
Sevika’s eyebrows raised in shock and the cigarette dropped to the ground of the carpark.
“What? W-what do you mean? I thought-”
“Look, Sevika,” Salim cut her off. “ It’s not…it’s not as good as it was, okay?” 
Something bubbled up inside of Sevika. Outrage, indignity…
“N-not…we fucked for an entire weekend a month ago? Every single time, I have made you cum. Every single time, it has been about you .”
“Ah! So you are punishing me!” 
“How? Give me an example!”
“Uh…” 
“You don’t know,” Sevika laughed hysterically. “Oh, my, fucking god . So, what? What’s this really about? We’ve been together for, what? Seven years? You waited for me to come out of the military. You were by my side through the surgeries and the physio. You helped me to get over it .”
She felt like she was losing her mind, going crazy. She threw her legs over outside of the car, head between her legs, the phone pressed to her ear. God, she might throw up. 
“You never cared about being on the bottom and suddenly you’re asking to be tied down?” 
“They were handcuffs for fucks sake. Stupid, pink, fluffy handcuffs. I’ve done more to you-”
“Where did that come from? Hm? You tell me your therapist suggested that? You told him about our sex life and suggested something we never talked about-” 
“He’s my therapist! He knows about the psychology of kink and BDSM dynamics. I told you about this when I came out of the hospital!”
“I think you’re fucking him.” 
Sevika’s stomach dropped. 
“Girl, the fuck you on about? You know I’m a lesbian. You know man dick is something I never want to touc-”
“Oh, come on. They always deny,” Salim barked out. “Look, my shit is packed. I’m going.” 
“Salim, wait. Wait. wait. Please, oh, my god, wait .”
“Go find someone else to beg.” 
The phone line ended and Sevika’s heart dropped. She threw the phone down into the footwell and then…her head was in her hands and she was sobbing. Her body shook with the crying, shoulders quaking as she mourned everything she just lost. 
“Oh, god,” she cried out, her watery voice echoing in the parking lot. 
She didn’t notice the footsteps or the beep of a car alarm being turned off. She didn’t notice the way Ambess heard the crying and immediately started to look around, pinpointing the source. The older woman quickly walked, light on her feet, to Sevika. She coughed, unphased by the sight, but when the other veteran didn’t clock the noise Ambessa walked forward, crouched, and took Sevika’s hands in her own. 
“Sevika?”
The younger woman immediately jolted, her head snapping up to look into gold-brown eyes. 
“I-”
“Sh, sh, it’s okay, darling.” Ambessa reached up to wipe away a mascara and eyeliner stained tear with her thumb. “Take deep breaths for me. Deep breaths. That’s it, good girl.”
Sevika knew the breathing techniques. Her therapist pretty much became a drill sergeant for them. When she started taking deep inhales, the crying slowed. She had to breathe through her mouth, her nose blocked. Ambessa wiped away a few more tears before reaching into her handbag and pulling out a packet of tissues.
“Blow your nose then talk to me,” she instructed, her voice firm yet soft. 
Sevika did so, folding the tissue in half a couple of times before throwing into the footwell next to her phone, sniffling and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. 
“Oh, my foundation,” she muttered, starting to cry once more when she realised her cultivated persona of badass was crumbling before a woman that she hated. 
“No, no, no. No more crying.” The older woman reached into her handbag once more and pulled out a clear water bottle, cracking it open and handing it to Sevika. “Drink. Careful, it’s vod-”
Sevika expected it to be water, knocking it back, but quickly sputtered and coughed when straight vodka burned her throat. 
“Holy shit, that’s vodka? ” she wheezed out, the burn of the liquor overwriting the burn in her heart.
Ambessa took it back, screwing the cap back on.
“A trick I learnt from my son. That boy was smuggling alcohol in before he could legally drink,” she mumbled before sighing in fondness at memories. “These expo’s get boring.”
Sevika flashed her a smile, though small and uncomfortable looking. She reached back and undid the ponytail that kept half her hair out of her face. She started to work out the gel when Ambessa reached up and started to scratch her short nails through her scalp. She wanted to bat her overly manicured nails away but…
“Why are you being nice to me?”
Ambessa scoffed, standing up with her hand still in Sevika’s hair. Then, her hand moved down from her scalp, across her cheek and then under the younger woman’s chin, lifting it up. 
God, those grey eyes. So big and wide… 
“You’re a pretty girl crying in a carpark. You’re also one of the few interesting people here.”
Those eyes flicked to the side, her face dropping with sadness.
“No-one’s called me pretty. Not even my girl- my ex-girlfriend,” she corrected herself, biting her lip to stop the crying. 
Ambress but her thumb on the bottom lip and dragged it out from under her teeth. 
“So…ex-girlfriend?”
Sevika jerked her head out of the hold, preferring to look at the floor rather than the woman that had turned up her entire life with one order. She looked at the phone and then gestured at it. 
“Called me up over on the phone .” Sevika scoffed, the ridiculousness of the scenario catching up with her. “She said the sex wasn’t like it was since I asked to bottom for once. She accused me of cheating on her with my therapist. My therapist who is a man. ”
The alcohol started to buzz through her veins. She was a heavy drinker but the combination of coffee for breakfast and crying any hydration she had left meant it was hitting quicker and harder than before. Ambessa had a keen, sharp eye and squatted down once more, placing her hands on Sevika’s forearms. 
“Do you have anyone to call? Is there anyone here I can get for you?” 
Sevika thought for a moment. It was mostly her work colleagues here, including her boss. 
“Ran? I guess? They drove with me here. They look like-”
“Yes, yes, I know who they are.”
Of course Medarda knew everyone at Shimmer Health.  
The older woman had her phone out, calling her assistant to find Ran and bring them to the car. When the call was done, the duo waited in silence before the vodka really hit. 
“I blame you,” Sevika blurted out, looking up through her lashes. 
Ambessa raised an unimpressed eyebrow, her arms crossed.
“Go on?”
“You just…you barked an order at me and, my god, I never got aroused in the army, but you’re just…” Her head was back between her legs and she waved her hand around. “I wanted to submit and-”
Ambessa had lifted the younger woman’s head again and by pressing two fingers against Sevika’s lips, she shushed her. 
“This is a conversation for when you’re in a more safe state of mind,” the C.E.O. stated, once again using that tone. “Give me your phone.”
Sevika didn’t think twice about unlocking her phone and handing it over. Her head swooned slightly and so she relaxed into the car seat as Ambessa clacked away at her phone. 
“Is Salim the girl?”
“Yeah…”
The older woman snorted.
“I’ve blocked her number for you.”
“Thanks.”
“I also put my number in there.” She handed the phone over. “Call me when you want to talk.”
Then, she picked up her handbag and walked towards the centre of the car park, waiting to flag down Ran and her assistant.
The conversation between Ran and Ambessa was short and simple; “her girlfriend broke up with her. She’s had some of my vodka. Get her home.”
Sevika didn’t even put up a fight when Ran told her to “get the fuck out of the seat”, maneuvering herself into the passenger side without leaving the car. She sobered up on the way home but quickly started to cry once more when they reached the apartment Sevika and Salim had lived in for the last three years together. 
“Shitting hell,” the assistant muttered, blowing their bangs out of their eyes.
Salim had cleaned the house. Every touch that was her was gone. Clothes, pictures, DVDs…gone. This was planned and not a spur of the moment thing. 
This wasn’t going to be good.
“Back a bag, Vika. You’re staying with me.”
It’d be three months till Ambessa got a singular text message from an unknown number:
I want to talk. 
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amethystarachnid · 1 month ago
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Hey, can I request for you tony stark x f!reader, they work together in the lab and they love each other but never admit, one day reader tell them that she's dating and tony will be so jealous and after some investigation (nothing creepy, just tony being cute and cautious) he'll see that her boyfriend is not a good guy and start to show her that he's the right guy for her (bringing her favorite coffee and flowers, little gifts, things like that) eventually she'll see that he's not good and break up with him, tony will comfort her and they will confess their love and be happy together
ENOUGH
⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK
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ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader
ᯓ★ Genre: angst and some fluff towards the end
ᯓ★ Request from: normal request
ᯓ★ Story type: one shot
ᯓ★ Word count: 13k (I swear it's worth it, this fic means a lot to me)
ᯓ★ Summary: You always had a strange feelings towards Tony, but you were too scared to recognize them because you didn't want to ruin your friendship. As you find yourself falling for another man you think you've found your forever, but your forever isn't supposed to make you feel happy, loved? So why does every interaction with Cole make you feel bad, sad? You feel like you're losing yourself but, luckily, Tony is right there to help you find your way back.
ᯓ★ TW(s): toxic and manipulating relationship (y/n and another guy, not Tony)
ᯓ★ I'm sorry this took so long but I 'used' your ask to write a fic that means a lot to me because I really want to spread awareness about this subject, and I hope you all understand that love is supposed to make you feel happy and secure, nothing bad. <3
ᯓ★ My Masterlist
ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special
ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!
ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)
ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo
ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language
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The lab is quiet at this hour. Most of the team has called it a night, but you’re still here, engrossed in calibrating a particularly fussy piece of Stark tech. It’s late—late enough that the hallways outside are dark and empty, but you don’t mind. Working in the stillness of the lab, the gentle hum of machines and the cool blue glow of screens, is soothing.
What you do mind, however, is the way Tony keeps glancing over at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. It’s unnerving, that knowing look of his, like he’s daring you to meet his gaze.
You can’t stand that look. It gets under your skin, tugs at something deep inside you that you refuse to acknowledge, but it never stops. It’s been years of this—working side by side, sharing laughs over takeout boxes in the lab, enduring countless sleepless nights debugging Tony’s latest invention or patching up battle-worn tech. The two of you have always been close, closer than most. And you’ve done an excellent job of pretending that’s all you want.
But there’s something about tonight that feels different. Maybe it’s the way he’s watching you from his desk, his eyes tracing over you in a way that’s just a little too warm, a little too careful. Or maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t said a word for the past ten minutes—an unprecedented stretch of silence, for Tony.
“You’re staring,” you finally mutter, not looking up from your work.
“And you’re pretending not to notice,” he replies, tone light, but there’s an undercurrent to it that makes your heart pick up. “Is that how we’re doing this now?”
You raise an eyebrow, trying for indifference. “Doing what?”
“Working in silence. Not our usual style, is it?”
You shrug, forcing yourself to focus on the small circuit board in front of you instead of the steady heat of his gaze. “It’s late, Tony. And we’ve been at this all day.”
“Right. Right, it’s late,” he says, stretching out the words as he leans back in his chair. You can see his smirk from the corner of your eye. “You, of all people, should be in bed by now. I distinctly remember you threatening to crash at eleven.”
“Guess I changed my mind.”
“Guess I knew you would,” he says, and now he’s leaning forward, arms braced on the desk in that familiar, frustrating way that makes him seem both casual and intensely focused. He’s watching you like he’s studying you, reading every flicker of your expression like it’s one of his schematics.
It’s maddening, and it’s also just a little intoxicating. You try to ignore it.
Instead, you clear your throat and look down at the circuit board again. “So, what’s the deal with this, anyway?” you ask, tapping it lightly. “Doesn’t look like your usual tech.”
Tony hums thoughtfully, rolling his chair closer, until he’s beside you, watching as you work. His proximity feels warmer than it should, his arm brushing yours as he leans over your shoulder, peering down at the board.
“It’s… a prototype for something I’m working on,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, soft rumble. “Something for field ops. You know, keeping our favorite Avengers safe.”
“Right.” You nod, but your fingers tremble slightly as you work, acutely aware of the warmth of his breath on your cheek. “Safety first.”
Tony chuckles, the sound so close it reverberates right through you. “Always,” he murmurs. “Even when certain people in this lab seem determined to work themselves to exhaustion.”
You roll your eyes, fighting the smile that tugs at your lips. “Look who’s talking. When’s the last time you actually slept, Tony?”
“Touché,” he concedes, leaning back slightly but still close enough that you can feel his presence, as constant and undeniable as gravity. “But I’ll have you know, I managed a whole hour of beauty sleep last night.”
“An hour? Impressive. Almost enough to be functional,” you tease, daring to glance up at him.
His smile softens, a small, fond twist of his lips that catches you off guard. There’s a gentleness in his eyes that you’ve seen before, but rarely for this long, and never with you as its sole focus. It’s the kind of look that makes you wonder—no, that makes you hope.
“You know,” he begins, his tone quieter now, almost hesitant, “you don’t have to stay up all night with me. I’ve got this handled.”
You blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in his voice. “What, you’re trying to kick me out now?”
“Not… exactly,” he says, and you swear he looks almost flustered for a split second before he covers it with a wry smile. “Just… you don’t have to be here, that’s all. It’s late, and you could be doing anything else.”
A part of you aches at his words, knowing how easy it would be to walk out, to go back to your quiet apartment and let this night pass like so many others. But the thought of leaving him here, of letting the comfortable silence between you slip away, makes something twist painfully in your chest.
You shake your head, more to yourself than to him. “I know I don’t have to be here, Tony. But… I want to be.”
The air between you shifts, charged with something heavier, something unsaid that has been building for months, maybe even years. His gaze softens, and for a moment, you think you see something flicker there—hope, maybe, or fear. Whatever it is, it leaves you feeling exposed, as if he’s managed to see right through you, right past the walls you’ve so carefully built around yourself.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice rougher now, his eyes searching yours.
You swallow, suddenly feeling like you’re standing on the edge of something that you’re not sure you’re ready to confront. “Yeah,” you reply, voice barely above a whisper. “Besides, you’d probably break this thing if I left you alone with it.”
He laughs softly, and it’s enough to break the tension between you, at least for now. But there’s still a lingering warmth in his gaze, a subtle shift in the way he looks at you that makes your heart hammer in your chest.
“I suppose I should be grateful, then,” he murmurs, his tone just a little too casual, like he’s trying to hide something. “You know… you’re the only one I trust with my projects. With my, uh, less-than-brilliant ideas.”
“Less-than-brilliant?” You arch an eyebrow, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, even though your face feels like it’s on fire. “Is Tony Stark actually admitting that he’s not perfect?”
“Careful,” he warns, but there’s no heat in his words, only a soft amusement that feels almost… tender. “Don’t let it get to your head. I’m only admitting it because it’s you.”
You laugh, the sound half-nervous, half-genuine, and it’s enough to break the tension just a little. You glance back down at the circuit board, taking a steadying breath as you focus on the familiar rhythms of your work.
But out of the corner of your eye, you see him watching you, a soft smile playing at his lips. It’s a look you’ve seen countless times over the years, but now, in the quiet of the empty lab, it feels different. It feels like a promise, like a question he’s too afraid to ask but too stubborn to let go of.
And in that moment, you realize that you’re afraid, too—afraid of the way he looks at you, afraid of the way your heart stutters every time he laughs, every time he brushes against you, every time he gives you that damn smile that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world who matters.
But more than anything, you’re afraid of what it would mean to say it out loud, to let the words slip past your lips and into the air, to admit that maybe this thing between you is more than friendship.
So, instead, you keep your head down, pretending not to notice the way he leans just a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours in a touch that feels almost intimate, almost deliberate.
And, for now, that’s enough. For now, you’re content to let the silence between you speak the words you’re both too afraid to say.
Tony Stark isn’t jealous. Not really. Jealousy is for guys who don’t have a tower with their name on it, a suit that could blast a hole through anything, and—let’s be honest—a jawline that does all the heavy lifting in the charm department. No, jealousy is beneath him. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself every time he sees you walk into the lab with that soft, distracted smile you’ve been wearing lately.
That’s not a work smile. That’s not even a Tony-just-said-something-obnoxious-but-funny smile. That’s a someone else is putting that smile on your face kind of smile, and Tony hates it.
He doesn’t say anything, though. Not at first. You’re your own person, after all, and if some guy—Cole, his brain spits out bitterly—if Cole makes you happy, then who is Tony Stark to interfere? Besides, you’re glowing these days, more relaxed than he’s seen you in ages. It’s probably just paranoia. His inner demons twisting things into shadows that aren’t really there.
Except Tony Stark is rarely wrong.
It starts as a nagging thought, one he keeps pushing away. He tries to focus on his work, on the new suit he’s been designing, on anything that doesn’t involve picturing you laughing at someone else’s jokes or holding someone else’s hand. But every time Cole comes up in conversation, every time you casually mention something he said or did, Tony feels that tiny itch in the back of his brain grow stronger.
Something doesn’t add up.
“Cole’s great, Tony,” you tell him one night, completely oblivious to the way his jaw tightens when you say the guy’s name. You’re sitting across from him in the lab, fiddling with a new circuit board. “I mean, he’s sweet, and he listens, and—God, I think I might actually be falling for him.”
Tony’s stomach drops. He’s heard you talk about Cole before, but this is different. There’s a softness in your voice, a vulnerability that makes his chest ache. You’re not just infatuated; you’re serious about this guy.
“That’s… great,” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Really. I mean, falling for someone? Huge step. Big deal. Congratulations.”
You glance up at him, frowning slightly. “You don’t sound too thrilled.”
“What? No. Thrilled is my middle name. Anthony Thrilled Stark.” He gestures dramatically with his hands, trying to play it off, but the look you give him is skeptical at best.
“Tony…” Your voice is softer now, concerned. “Is something wrong?”
Wrong? No. Everything’s fine. You’re dating a guy who he’s never met but already hates, and Tony’s spent every spare moment pretending it doesn’t feel like he’s losing you. Nothing wrong with that.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he lies. “I’m just… you know, being overprotective. It’s kind of my thing. But if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
You give him a small smile, the kind that twists the knife a little deeper, and go back to your work. Tony watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to his own desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of him.
He tells himself to let it go. To trust you, to trust that you know what you’re doing. But the nagging itch in the back of his brain refuses to fade. Something about this guy doesn’t sit right, and Tony Stark didn’t get to where he is by ignoring his instincts.
So he starts digging.
It’s not creepy. Not really. It’s not like he’s hacking into the guy’s emails or anything (although, let’s be honest, he could). He’s just doing a little background research. Running some basic searches, cross-referencing public records, scrolling through social media. All perfectly legal. All perfectly harmless.
At first, there’s nothing. Cole looks clean—a little too clean, actually. No embarrassing Facebook posts from his college days, no bad reviews from ex-girlfriends, not even a speeding ticket. Tony doesn’t trust it. Everyone has skeletons in their closet, and the fact that Cole’s closet seems spotless only makes Tony more suspicious.
Then he finds it. A single thread, barely noticeable, buried in the endless digital clutter. It’s an old forum post, years old, from someone who claims to have dated Cole. The details are vague, but the tone is unmistakable: bitterness, regret, and a warning for anyone who might follow.
Tony narrows his eyes, digging deeper. The more he finds, the worse it gets. Cole’s spotless public image starts to crumble under closer scrutiny. There are patterns—subtle, but there. Former coworkers describing him as manipulative. An ex-girlfriend mentioning how he’d gaslight her during arguments. A series of short-lived jobs, each ending under murky circumstances. Nothing outright damning, but enough to paint a picture Tony doesn’t like.
He sits back in his chair, staring at the screen. His chest feels tight, a mix of anger and something else—fear, maybe. He doesn’t want to be right about this. He doesn’t want to believe that you could fall for someone like that, someone who might hurt you. But the evidence is staring him in the face, and Tony Stark has never been good at ignoring the truth.
The next day, he watches you more closely than usual. You’re in the lab again, humming softly to yourself as you work. There’s a lightness to you that makes his heart ache. He doesn’t want to ruin that, doesn’t want to be the one to bring you down. But he also can’t stand the thought of staying silent.
“Hey,” he says, leaning casually against your desk. “You free tonight?”
You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Got another groundbreaking invention to show off?”
“Maybe,” he says, smirking. “But actually, I was thinking dinner. My treat. You, me, and a bottle of ridiculously overpriced wine.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “As tempting as that sounds, I already have plans. Cole’s taking me out.”
Of course, he is. Tony’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second before he covers it with a shrug. “Right. Well, rain check, then.”
“Definitely,” you say, flashing him a smile before turning back to your work.
Tony watches you for a moment longer, then turns and heads for his office. He needs a plan—a way to bring this up without sounding like a jealous idiot or an overbearing dad. But as much as he tries to think of the right words, they won’t come.
That night, he paces his workshop, trying to talk himself out of doing something stupid. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe Cole isn’t as bad as he seems. Maybe Tony’s just projecting his own insecurities onto the guy. But then he remembers the forum post, the warnings, the pattern of behavior, and his resolve hardens.
He picks up his phone, hesitating for only a moment before dialing your number. You answer on the second ring, your voice warm and familiar.
“Tony? What’s up?”
“Hey,” he says, trying to sound casual. “You busy?”
“I’m with Cole,” you say, and there’s a note of hesitation in your voice, like you’re not sure why he’s calling. “Why?”
Tony swallows, gripping the phone tighter. “I just… wanted to check in. Make sure you’re okay.”
There’s a pause, and then you laugh softly. “I’m fine, Tony. Really. You don’t have to worry about me.”
But he does. More than he wants to admit. And as he listens to your voice, so full of trust and affection, he knows he can’t keep this to himself for much longer.
“I’ll let you get back to your date,” he says finally, forcing a smile into his voice. “Just… take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will,” you promise. “Thanks, Tony.”
He hangs up, staring at the phone in his hand. The weight in his chest hasn’t lifted. If anything, it’s heavier now.
Because Tony Stark isn’t jealous. Not really. He’s just terrified of losing you to someone who doesn’t deserve you. And the worst part? He doesn’t know if he can stop it.
You never thought it would feel like this—being with someone, falling for someone. Isn’t it supposed to make you happy? Isn’t it supposed to feel safe?
But with Cole, it’s… complicated.
At first, everything seemed perfect. He was sweet, attentive, always quick with a compliment or a thoughtful gesture. You’d convinced yourself he was everything you could ask for in a partner. And maybe for a little while, he was. But now, months into your relationship, cracks have started to show.
It starts small. The occasional offhand comment that stings more than it should. A subtle shift in tone when you talk about your work in the lab. You brush it off at first, telling yourself you’re imagining things. But then it gets worse.
“Late again,” Cole remarks one evening as you walk through the door, exhaustion tugging at your every step. He’s on the couch, his arms crossed, eyes sharp and unyielding. “How many hours did you spend with Stark today?”
The question hangs in the air, heavy and accusing. You swallow hard, setting your bag down by the door. “I wasn’t counting, Cole. You know how it is—we had a lot to get through.”
His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, with a pointed sigh, he gets up and walks into the kitchen. “Sure,” he says over his shoulder, the word dripping with bitterness. “Because Tony Stark is the only person in the world who needs your time.”
“Cole…” You trail after him, your voice quiet. “You know it’s not like that.”
“Do I?” He turns to face you, arms braced against the counter. “Because it feels like I’m sharing you with him. And you don’t seem to care.”
The words hit you like a slap. “That’s not fair,” you say, your voice trembling. “Tony’s my friend. We work together. You knew that when we started dating.”
“And maybe that was a mistake,” he snaps, his eyes narrowing. “Because it’s pretty clear where your priorities are.”
You open your mouth to argue, but the words don’t come. The guilt that’s been gnawing at you for weeks rises to the surface, sharp and suffocating. You do spend a lot of time in the lab. You do lean on Tony more than you should. Maybe Cole’s right. Maybe you’re the problem.
“I’ll try to do better,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
Cole’s expression softens, just slightly, and he steps closer, cupping your face in his hands. “That’s all I’m asking, Y/N,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “I just want to feel like I matter to you.”
You nod, forcing a smile even as something inside you twists painfully. “You do. I promise.”
But as the weeks go by, it becomes harder and harder to keep that promise. Cole’s demands grow more insistent, his comments more cutting. You start to dread going home, knowing there’s always another fight waiting for you. And worst of all, you begin to pull back from the one place that’s always felt like home: the lab.
Tony notices, of course. He notices everything.
“Morning, sunshine,” Tony greets you one day, setting a steaming cup of coffee on your desk. “Extra caramel, just the way you like it.”
You look up, startled. “Tony, you didn’t have to—”
“Of course, I did,” he interrupts, flashing you that trademark smirk. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer through the day without caffeine?”
Despite yourself, you smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he says, leaning against your desk. “Although, I have to say, you’ve been a little MIA lately. Should I be offended? Or are you just trying to make me miss you?”
You laugh softly, but the sound feels hollow. “Just… busy, I guess.”
Tony’s eyes narrow, and you know he doesn’t buy it. But he doesn’t press. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. “Oh, and I got you this.”
Your brow furrows as you take the box, opening it to reveal a sleek, silver keychain in the shape of a tiny wrench. It’s beautiful, understated but thoughtful, and it makes your chest ache.
“Tony…” Your voice catches. “Why?”
He shrugs, his expression softening. “Saw it and thought of you. That’s all.”
You bite your lip, overwhelmed by the gesture. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
He watches you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “You deserve it,” he says quietly. “You deserve more than coffee and keychains, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”
His words linger long after he’s gone, echoing in your mind as you work. You wish you could tell him everything—about Cole, about the fights, about the way you’ve started to feel like a stranger in your own life. But you can’t. Tony has enough on his plate without dealing with your problems.
So you keep it to yourself, even as the weight of it threatens to crush you.
The gifts keep coming. A bouquet of your favorite flowers on your workbench one morning. A set of noise-canceling headphones to help you focus. Little things that remind you someone cares, even when you feel like you’re drowning.
Cole notices, of course. “What’s with all the stuff?” he asks one evening, eyeing the flowers on your kitchen counter.
“Just Tony being Tony,” you say, trying to sound casual. “He likes spoiling his friends.”
Cole’s jaw tightens. “Friends,” he repeats, his tone sharp. “Right.”
You don’t argue. You don’t have the energy. Instead, you turn away, pretending not to notice the way his expression darkens.
One night, after another fight with Cole leaves you feeling hollow and drained, you find yourself sitting in the lab long after everyone else has gone home. Tony walks in, a takeout bag in one hand and a familiar, comforting smile on his face.
“Figured you’d still be here,” he says, setting the bag down in front of you. “Dinner’s on me.”
You look up at him, tears threatening to spill over, and for the first time, you let yourself lean into his presence. “Thank you,” you whisper.
He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He doesn’t push. He just sits beside you, eating in comfortable silence, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe again.
Tony Stark doesn’t say the words. He doesn’t tell you that he thinks you deserve better than Cole, that he thinks you deserve better than him, even. But he doesn’t have to.
In every cup of coffee, every flower, every small act of kindness, he’s telling you that you’re worth more than you’ve been made to believe. And slowly, you begin to believe it too.
For now, it’s enough.
The atmosphere at home feels suffocating these days. The relationship you once cherished with Cole has become a minefield, every step fraught with tension. You’re constantly second-guessing yourself, careful with your words, trying to avoid setting him off. But it never seems to matter. Lately, even your best efforts only seem to fuel the simmering resentment in his eyes.
And Tony’s gifts? They’ve only made things worse.
It starts small, like everything with Cole does. A passing comment, offhanded and laced with sarcasm.
“Another coffee from your friend, huh?” he remarks one morning, his voice just a shade too sharp as he watches you take a sip from the steaming cup Tony had left on your desk.
You force a smile. “It’s just coffee, Cole. Tony’s like that with everyone—he’s generous. You know that.”
His lips twist into a tight smile. “Right. Generous. Just funny how his generosity seems to center around you.”
You bite your tongue, unwilling to let this spiral into another argument. Cole isn’t entirely wrong—Tony has been more attentive lately, but it’s not what Cole thinks. It’s just Tony being Tony, looking out for you the way he always has. There’s nothing wrong with that. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.
But Cole doesn’t drop it.
The next time Tony leaves you flowers, Cole’s reaction is colder, sharper.
“Do you think this is normal?” he asks, his voice low and tight as he stares at the bouquet sitting on your kitchen counter. His fingers drum against the edge of the counter, his jaw clenched. “Your boss giving you flowers?”
You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “They’re not romantic, Cole. They’re just… thoughtful. Tony knows I’ve been stressed lately, that’s all.”
“Yeah?” He steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “And what’s he doing to help with that stress, huh? Bringing you coffee? Flowers? What’s next, jewelry?”
The accusation in his tone stings, and you feel your patience slipping. “Cole, you’re reading way too much into this. Tony and I are friends—nothing more. I shouldn’t have to explain that to you.”
“Maybe you should,” he snaps, his voice rising. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”
You flinch at the harshness in his tone, the knot of guilt and frustration tightening in your chest. “This isn’t fair,” you say quietly. “I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me.”
Cole scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s not you I don’t trust, Y/N. It’s him. Guys like Stark don’t just do things out of the kindness of their hearts. There’s always an angle.”
You want to argue, to defend Tony, but you know it’ll only make things worse. So you say nothing, letting the silence stretch between you like a chasm.
The next day, you try to keep your distance in the lab. Tony notices immediately.
“Okay, what’s up?” he asks, leaning casually against your desk as you work. His tone is light, but his eyes are sharp, searching. “You’ve been weird all morning. Did I do something? Forget your birthday? Make a terrible pun that offended your delicate sensibilities?”
You force a laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s nothing. Just tired.”
“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly unconvinced. “Tired, or ‘I’m avoiding something and don’t want to talk about it’ tired?”
You sigh, setting down your tools. “It’s complicated, Tony.”
“Lucky for you, I’m a genius,” he quips, giving you a crooked smile. “Try me.”
You hesitate, chewing on your lip. Part of you wants to open up, to tell him everything about how things have been with Cole. But another part of you is terrified of what that might mean—what Tony might say or do. So instead, you give him the barest truth, the safest version of the story.
“Cole’s just… he doesn’t love the gifts,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Or the coffee. Or… well, you.”
Tony’s eyebrows shoot up. “Me?” he repeats, clearly taken aback. “What’d I do?”
“Nothing,” you say quickly. “It’s just… he thinks you’re too generous. That you’re overstepping.”
Tony stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, if my coffee and flowers are causing problems for you, just say the word. I’ll stop.”
You shake your head, your chest tightening. “That’s not what I want, Tony. You’ve been… you’ve been amazing, honestly. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
His gaze softens, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then he smiles—a small, gentle smile that makes your heart ache. “Well, for the record, I don’t plan on going anywhere. But if you need me to ease up, just let me know, okay?”
You nod, trying to smile back, but the guilt gnaws at you. You hate that Cole’s jealousy has made you second-guess Tony’s kindness, that it’s made you feel like you have to choose between the two of them.
Things with Cole only get worse. The arguments become more frequent, his words sharper, more cutting. He starts keeping tabs on your schedule, questioning every minute you spend in the lab. And when you do come home, he’s cold, distant, like he’s punishing you for something you can’t quite understand.
One night, after another fight leaves you in tears, you find yourself staring at your phone, your fingers hovering over Tony’s contact. You want to call him, to hear his voice, to feel the comfort of his unwavering support. But you don’t. Instead, you curl up on the couch, clutching the tiny wrench keychain he gave you like a lifeline.
Tony doesn’t press you, but he doesn’t back off, either. If anything, he doubles down on the small gestures. He brings you coffee every morning, just like always, but now there’s a little note attached—a joke, a doodle, something to make you smile. He leaves snacks on your desk when you’re too busy to eat, reminds you to take breaks, and even surprises you with a new toolkit when your old one starts falling apart.
“Can’t have my favorite lab partner working with subpar equipment,” he says when you thank him, his tone light but his eyes serious.
Every time he does something like this, it chips away at the walls you’ve been building around yourself. Because Tony doesn’t just make you feel appreciated—he makes you feel seen, like he knows you better than anyone else in the world.
Cole notices, of course. And he’s not happy.
One night, after you come home with another gift from Tony—a small, sleek notebook engraved with your initials—Cole snaps.
“This has to stop,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. He’s pacing the living room, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you let some other guy spoil you like this.”
“Tony’s just being nice,” you say, your voice shaking. “He’s my friend, Cole. That’s all.”
“Bullshit,” he spits, turning to face you. “He’s not just your friend, Y/N. No guy spends that much time and energy on someone without expecting something in return.”
The accusation makes your stomach churn. “That’s not true. Tony’s never—”
“He doesn’t have to,” Cole interrupts, his eyes blazing. “You think I don’t see the way he looks at you? The way you light up when he’s around? You’re already halfway out the door, Y/N, and you don’t even realize it.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You want to deny it, to tell him he’s wrong, but the truth lodges in your throat, heavy and suffocating. Because part of you knows he’s right.
Tony does look at you like that. And you do light up when he’s around.
But that doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. It doesn’t mean you deserve this—Cole’s anger, his jealousy, the constant feeling that you’re walking on eggshells.
“I can’t do this right now,” you say, your voice breaking. You grab your bag and head in the bedroom, ignoring Cole’s protests as you leave.
It’s been days since the last fight with Cole, but the weight of his words hasn’t left you. He’s been quieter since then, distant but simmering. Every interaction feels like walking a tightrope—one wrong step, and everything will come crashing down.
You try to focus on work, on the comfort of the lab and Tony’s steady presence. But when you’re home, the walls close in. Cole’s criticisms have sunk deep, making you question everything about yourself. When you’re not fighting, there’s a suffocating tension, a calm before the inevitable storm.
One night, after a long shift at the lab, you come home to find him waiting in the living room. His expression is dark, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“You’re late,” he says flatly, his voice devoid of warmth.
You sigh, setting your bag down carefully by the door. “I told you I had to finish something important with Tony.”
“Of course,” he snaps, standing and pacing. “It’s always Tony, isn’t it? Tony this, Tony that. You spend more time with him than you do with me. Do you even want to be here, Y/N?”
The accusation cuts deep, but you’re too tired to argue. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”
He stops pacing, his eyes narrowing. “Barely. And when you are here, it’s like your mind’s somewhere else. Admit it—you’re thinking about him.”
“Cole, that’s not fair,” you say, your voice shaking. “I’ve told you before—Tony’s my friend. That’s all.”
His laugh is cold, bitter. “You really expect me to believe that? After everything? The gifts, the flowers, the way he looks at you? Hell, the way you light up when he’s around?”
“Stop,” you plead, tears welling up in your eyes. “Just stop. I can’t keep having this same fight with you.”
“Then maybe you should leave,” he says harshly, his words like a slap.
The silence that follows is deafening. For a moment, you wonder if he means it. But then his expression softens, and he steps closer, reaching for you.
“I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly. “You know I just… I just get jealous because I care about you. Because I don’t want to lose you.”
You nod, even though your chest feels tight and the words taste bitter.
You let it go. Again.
The breaking point comes a few nights later. You’re in the kitchen, making dinner, when Cole comes home. He’s earlier than usual, and you can tell right away that something’s off. His movements are sharp, his expression stormy.
“Hey,” you say cautiously. “Everything okay?”
“Funny,” he says, dropping his keys on the counter with a loud clatter. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“What do you mean?”
He holds up his phone, and your stomach sinks when you see what’s on the screen: a photo of you and Tony in the lab. You’re laughing at something he’s said, your hand lightly brushing his arm.
“Where did you get that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says coldly. “What matters is that while I’m here, worrying about us, you’re out there playing happy little lab partners with Stark.”
“That’s not what this is,” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re blowing this out of proportion, Cole. It’s just a picture.”
“Oh, it’s just a picture,” he sneers. “You’re unbelievable, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself? Do you even realize how disrespectful this is to me?”
You open your mouth to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance.
“I’m done,” he snaps, his voice rising. “I’m done being the guy you come home to while you spend all your time with him. If you want Tony so bad, why don’t you just go be with him?”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut.
“Cole…” you start, tears streaming down your face. “You’re twisting this into something it’s not. I love you.”
“No, you don’t,” he says harshly. “If you did, you wouldn’t make me feel like this. Like I’m nothing to you.”
Something inside you snaps.
“I’ve done nothing but try to make this work,” you say, your voice breaking. “I’ve bent over backward to prove myself to you, to make you feel secure, and it’s never enough. Nothing I do is ever enough for you.”
“Maybe because you’re not enough,” he says, his words cutting like a knife.
The room spins, your chest tightening as the weight of his words crushes you. But then, through the haze of pain, something shifts.
You realize you can’t do this anymore.
You can’t keep living like this—walking on eggshells, shrinking yourself to fit into the narrow mold of what Cole thinks you should be.
Without a word, you turn and walk to the bedroom, grabbing a duffel bag from the closet.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice panicked now.
“I’m leaving,” you say, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do this anymore, Cole. I can’t keep sacrificing myself for someone who doesn’t even see me.”
“You’re overreacting,” he says, his tone shifting to pleading. “Y/N, don’t do this. Don’t throw everything away.”
You stop, turning to face him one last time. “You did that all on your own.”
And with that, you walk out the door, the weight lifting off your shoulders even as your heart shatters.
It’s late by the time you arrive at Tony’s penthouse, your hands trembling as you knock on the door. The ride over had been a blur, your mind racing with everything that had just happened. You have nowhere else to go, no one else you can turn to.
When the door swings open, Tony’s standing there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tousled from what was probably a rare early night in. His eyes widen when he sees you, and then his expression softens, concern etched into every line of his face.
“Y/N?” he says gently. “What’s wrong?”
You try to speak, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, a sob escapes, and before you know it, Tony’s pulling you into his arms.
“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he holds you close. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
For a long moment, you just stand there, letting yourself break in his arms. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t ask questions. He just holds you, his presence steady and grounding.
When you finally pull back, wiping at your tear-streaked face, he guides you inside, leading you to the couch.
“Take your time,” he says softly, sitting beside you. “Whenever you’re ready.”
You take a deep, shuddering breath, and then the words start pouring out. You tell him everything—about the fights, the jealousy, the way Cole made you feel like you were never enough. By the time you’re done, your voice is hoarse, and you’re trembling from the weight of it all.
Tony listens quietly, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with anger. But when he speaks, his voice is calm, steady.
“Y/N,” he says, reaching for your hand. “You didn’t deserve any of that. Not a single word, not a single moment.”
The sincerity in his voice breaks something inside you, and fresh tears spill over.
“I just… I thought I could fix it,” you whisper. “I thought if I tried hard enough, I could make him love me the way he used to.”
Tony’s grip on your hand tightens. “You shouldn’t have to try to earn someone’s love,” he says fiercely. “You deserve someone who sees you, who values you for exactly who you are.”
For a moment, you don’t say anything, letting his words sink in. And then, for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “For everything.”
Tony smiles softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Always.”
And as you sit there, wrapped in the safety of his presence, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re finally free.
Tony watches you carefully, his expression soft yet laced with worry. You’re sitting on the couch, bundled in one of his blankets, your eyes puffy from crying but starting to regain some of their warmth. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze steady and unwavering.
“Y/N,” he begins gently, his voice low and calming, “you don’t have to decide anything tonight, but… I want you to know you can stay here. For as long as you need. No questions, no pressure. Just stay.”
The weight of his offer makes you pause. It’s so simple, so heartfelt, yet so overwhelming. After everything that’s happened tonight, the idea of being anywhere but here—with Tony, with his steady strength—feels unbearable.
“Tony, I couldn’t,” you say, shaking your head. “This is your home, your space—”
“And now it’s your space too, if you need it,” he interrupts, his tone resolute but kind. “Come on, Y/N. You just walked out on a toxic situation, and you don’t need to figure everything out overnight. This place is big enough to lose half the Avengers in; you’re not crowding me. Besides…” He shrugs, grinning playfully. “I could use a roommate who doesn’t hack into my suits for fun.”
Despite yourself, you let out a soft laugh, and Tony’s smile widens, his expression lighting up at the sound.
“Okay,” you whisper, nodding slowly. “Just for a little while.”
Tony leans back, his relief palpable. “Good. And don’t worry about anything. I’ve got guest rooms, extra pajamas—hell, I’ll even share my secret stash of premium ice cream. No strings attached.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You have a secret ice cream stash?”
“Like I’d survive this crazy life without it,” he quips. “Come on, let’s raid it. Ice cream fixes everything.”
Fifteen minutes later, you’re sitting side by side on the couch, each armed with a pint of ice cream and a spoon. The TV plays in the background, some cheesy action movie neither of you is really watching. You’ve spent the past ten minutes venting, pouring out everything you’d been bottling up for months—the fights, the manipulation, the way Cole made you feel small and undeserving of love.
Tony listens intently, his expression shifting from anger to sadness to something else entirely—something softer, more protective. Every time you mention Cole’s name, his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. He lets you talk, lets you spill everything, and when you finally fall silent, he speaks.
“Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with both anger and sorrow, “I can’t tell you how much I hate that you went through all of that. And I’m trying—really trying—not to go full Iron Man on this guy and teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.”
You chuckle weakly, shaking your head. “Please don’t, Tony. He’s not worth it.”
“No, he’s not,” Tony agrees, his tone firm. “But you are. You’re worth everything, Y/N, and you deserve so much better than the crap he put you through.”
His words hit you hard, tears threatening to spill again. But this time, they’re tears of gratitude, of relief. You don’t know what you’d do without Tony’s unwavering support, without his ability to make you feel like you’re not alone.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “For all of this. For everything.”
Tony smiles softly, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze. “Always.”
The night stretches on, and eventually, exhaustion starts to creep in. You’re still on the couch, your ice cream forgotten on the coffee table, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s voice is like a balm to your frayed nerves. You don’t even realize how tired you are until your head starts to droop, leaning closer and closer to Tony.
Before you know it, you’re resting against his shoulder, your breathing slow and even as sleep takes over.
Tony freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy. But then he looks down at you, his expression softening into something indescribably tender. He can’t help but smile, his heart swelling with emotions he’s spent years trying to keep at bay.
God, he’s in love with you.
He’s known it for a long time, but seeing you like this—vulnerable, trusting, safe in his presence—it hits him all over again. You’re everything to him, and if he’s being honest, he’s more than a little relieved that you’re finally free of Cole. Not just because of what Cole put you through, but because now there’s a chance—a tiny, fragile chance—that you might one day see Tony the way he sees you.
But tonight isn’t about that. Tonight is about you.
Carefully, Tony shifts slightly, wrapping an arm around you to make sure you’re comfortable. He grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you with practiced ease. You murmur something in your sleep, nuzzling closer to him, and his smile grows impossibly wider.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
He sits there for a long time, holding you as you sleep, his mind racing with thoughts of the future—of what he can do to help you heal, to make you feel whole again. Because if there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s this:
He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you never feel unloved or unworthy again.
Life at Tony’s penthouse is different—quiet, comforting, and safe. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel like you’re holding your breath. No more walking on eggshells, no more second-guessing yourself over every little thing. It’s strange, this newfound sense of freedom, but slowly, you’re beginning to settle into it.
Tony, of course, makes it easy. He’s there in every way you need, whether it’s with his quick wit that always coaxes a laugh from you, or the way he seems to sense when you’re overwhelmed and knows just when to step in—or back off. He never pries, never pushes, but he’s always there.
A week into your stay, he insists on taking care of what you’ve been dreading.
“Y/N,” he says one morning over coffee, “I’ve got it handled.”
You frown, looking up from your mug. “Got what handled?”
“Your stuff,” he says casually, as if it’s no big deal. “I sent Happy and the team over to Cole’s to grab everything that’s yours. No way I’m letting you go back there and deal with him. Ever.”
Your stomach twists at the mention of Cole, but the weight lifts just as quickly at Tony’s matter-of-fact tone. He’s already handled it, just like that. No drama, no arguments, no lingering ties to your old life.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you stammer, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness.
Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Say thank you, and maybe bake me some cookies later. I hear you make a mean chocolate chip.”
You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “Thank you, Tony. Really.”
He winks. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
When the boxes arrive later that day, it’s bittersweet. You’re relieved to have your things back, but seeing them stacked in the corner of the guest room—the room Tony’s insisted is now your room—feels surreal. This is your life now, and it’s so different from what you’ve known.
Tony gives you space as you unpack, but he hovers nearby, always ready with a joke or an offer to help. When you pull out a framed photo of you and your family, your hands freeze, a lump forming in your throat.
Tony notices immediately. “Hey,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You okay?”
You nod, blinking back tears. “Yeah. Just… it’s a lot.”
“I know,” he says gently, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Take your time. And if you need a distraction…” He holds up a box with a grin. “I’ve got a few boxes labeled ‘miscellaneous,’ and I’m dying to know what you kept in them.”
You laugh, swatting his arm. “Nosy.”
“Hey, I’m offering my world-class organizing skills here. I’m practically Martha Stewart.”
His antics make it easier to get through the day, and by the time you’ve unpacked, the guest room feels less like a temporary space and more like a home.
Living with Tony is… easy.
He’s nothing like Cole, and that contrast is both liberating and disorienting. He doesn’t criticize you for sleeping in or for spending hours tinkering with your own projects in the lab. He doesn’t demand to know where you’ve been if you step out for a walk, or guilt you for wanting time alone.
Instead, Tony encourages you to take up space, to be yourself.
“You’ve got ideas, Y/N,” he says one day as you both work in the lab. “Brilliant ones. Don’t hold back just because you think I’ll be offended. Hell, half the time, you’re smarter than me. And trust me, that’s a compliment I don’t give lightly.”
You smile, the warmth in his words chasing away the lingering doubts that still sometimes creep in.
“You really mean that?”
“Always,” he says firmly.
And it’s not just his words—it’s his actions, too. Every morning, there’s a cup of your favorite coffee waiting for you, often accompanied by something small and thoughtful. One day, it’s a book you’d mentioned weeks ago. Another, it’s a tiny model of a starship from your favorite sci-fi series.
And sometimes, it’s flowers.
You find a fresh bouquet on the kitchen counter one morning, the note attached reading:
“For the brightest part of my day. -T”
Your heart swells, and you catch yourself smiling like a lovestruck teenager.
Not everything is smooth sailing, though. There are moments when the shadows of your past creep in, moments when Cole’s voice echoes in your mind, making you second-guess yourself.
One evening, after spending hours in the lab with Tony, you sit at the kitchen counter, staring at the empty takeout container in front of you. Guilt gnaws at the edges of your thoughts. Cole’s voice whispers in your ear: You’re wasting time again, Y/N. Neglecting the things that really matter.
Tony notices immediately.
“Hey,” he says, setting down his tablet and moving to your side. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
You hesitate, not wanting to burden him. But Tony doesn’t let it slide.
“Y/N,” he says gently, his voice coaxing. “Talk to me.”
“I just… sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like I’m wasting time, or I’m not…”
“Not what?” Tony prompts, his brow furrowing.
“Not enough,” you say, your voice breaking.
Tony’s expression softens, and he crouches beside you, taking your hands in his.
“Y/N,” he says firmly, his voice full of conviction. “You are more than enough. Anyone who made you feel otherwise was wrong. Dead wrong. And if I ever meet him…” His jaw tightens, but then he exhales, forcing himself to relax. “Let me rephrase. If I ever meet him, I’ll shake his hand for one reason only—because he was stupid enough to let you go, and now I get to remind you every day how incredible you are.”
You blink, his words sinking in like sunlight breaking through a storm.
“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling.
Tony grins. “Of course I do. Have you met me? I don’t say things I don’t mean. Now, come on. Let’s grab dessert and watch something terrible on TV. My treat.”
He pulls you to your feet, and for the first time in a long time, you feel light—free.
As the weeks pass, you start to feel more like yourself again. Tony’s unrelenting support, his thoughtfulness, and his ridiculous sense of humor remind you that life doesn’t have to be heavy, that you can be happy without fear of consequences.
And through it all, Tony is there—steady, reliable, and quietly, hopelessly in love with you.
It’s an ordinary evening at Tony’s penthouse. You’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a soft smile on your face as you watch Tony make an attempt—well, a valiant attempt—at cooking dinner. He’s muttering something about how much easier it would be if he could just program JARVIS to handle all his culinary disasters, and the sight is enough to make your chest feel warm.
For months now, you’ve been living here, slowly piecing yourself back together. Tony has been your anchor, your constant, and somewhere along the way, the feelings you’d kept buried for so long started to resurface. At first, you chalked it up to gratitude, to the safety he gave you, but now you know better.
You’re in love with him.
It terrifies you—because the last time you opened yourself up to someone, it left you shattered. But this is Tony. He’s nothing like Cole, and deep down, you know he never would be.
Still, you haven’t told him. Not yet.
The sound of your phone vibrating on the counter pulls you out of your thoughts. The number on the screen is unfamiliar, but without thinking, you answer.
“Hello?”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and then a voice you haven’t heard in months makes your blood run cold.
“Y/N,” Cole says, his tone smooth and familiar, and your stomach clenches.
Panic floods your veins, your breathing hitching as you freeze in place.
“Y/N, it’s me. Look, I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I just… I need to talk to you. I need you to understand—”
Your mind races, and suddenly, the walls of Tony’s penthouse feel too close, too confining. Before you can respond—or hang up—the phone is gently taken from your hand.
You look up to see Tony standing beside you, his expression calm but deadly serious.
“Who is this?” he says, his tone steely as he presses the phone to his ear.
There’s a pause, and you watch as Tony’s jaw tightens. He glances at you, his eyes softening briefly before his face hardens again.
“Cole,” Tony says, his voice low and dangerous. “Yeah, I know who you are. And you’re going to listen very carefully. This is the last time you’ll ever call her. If you try to contact her again—in any way—I’ll make sure the authorities know exactly who you are and what you’ve done. Am I clear?”
You hear muffled protests on the other end, but Tony doesn’t let him get another word in.
“Good,” Tony snaps, and then he ends the call, tossing your phone onto the counter.
The room falls silent, save for the sound of your uneven breathing. Tony turns to you, his expression softening immediately.
“Y/N,” he says gently, stepping closer. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s not going to bother you again. I promise.”
You nod, but the panic is still bubbling under the surface, your hands trembling as you try to process what just happened.
“Come here,” Tony says softly, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. His embrace is warm, solid, and for the first time since you heard Cole’s voice, you feel like you can breathe again.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice shaking.
Tony pulls back just enough to look at you, his brow furrowing. “Hey, don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. Not a single thing.”
You nod, but tears spill down your cheeks anyway. Tony reaches up, brushing them away with his thumb.
“Listen to me,” he says, his voice steady but full of emotion. “You’re safe here. With me. He doesn’t get to have any power over you anymore, okay? Not while I’m around.”
You sniffle, managing a small nod. “Okay.”
Tony’s arms tighten around you, his chin resting on the top of your head.
“You’re stronger than you know,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
His words sink into you, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.
After a few moments, you pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Thank you, Tony.”
He smiles softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Always, sweetheart.”
And in that moment, as you look into his warm brown eyes, you feel something shift. The fear and panic begin to fade, replaced by something else entirely—something safe, steady, and unwavering.
It’s love. And this time, it feels like it could be yours.
Tony Stark steps out of his sleek black Audi, the hum of the engine fading as he straightens his suit jacket. The dimly lit street in front of Cole’s crummy apartment is a far cry from the luxury of the penthouse, and the contrast isn’t lost on him. He checks his watch briefly—he doesn’t want to take too long. Not when you’re back at home, waiting for him to start your movie night.
He sighs, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the discomfort of what he’s about to do. This isn’t his style, not anymore. But for you? For you, he’d tear apart the world.
Walking up the cracked concrete steps, Tony barely glances at the graffiti-covered walls or the muffled arguments echoing from other apartments. He finds Cole’s unit easily enough; Happy’s intel was, as always, flawless. Without hesitation, he knocks sharply.
The door creaks open, revealing Cole’s confused face. It takes him a moment to recognize Tony, but when he does, his confusion morphs into unease.
“Tony Stark?” Cole asks, his voice unsure. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Tony doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “We need to talk.”
Cole scoffs, attempting to mask his nerves with bravado. “I’ve got nothing to say to you. And Y/N—”
“Stop,” Tony cuts him off, his tone sharp as a knife. He steps forward, his presence filling the doorway. “You don’t get to say her name. Not after everything you’ve done.”
Cole backs up slightly, his bravado slipping. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but this is none of your business.”
Tony raises an eyebrow, his expression calm but ice-cold. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Y/N is my business. She’s under my roof, and she’s finally starting to feel like herself again after everything you put her through. And then you had the audacity to call her?” He steps closer, his voice lowering to something almost lethal. “Big mistake.”
Cole tries to put on a sneer, but it doesn’t quite land. “What are you gonna do, Stark? Use your money to buy me off? Intimidate me with your Iron Man shtick?”
Tony smirks, pulling a sleek envelope from his jacket pocket. “Actually, yeah, I am.” He tosses the envelope onto a nearby table. “Inside, you’ll find a one-way ticket to France, fully paid for, and a sizable amount of cash to make sure you don’t come crawling back anytime soon. Call it my version of charity.”
Cole picks up the envelope, flipping through the contents with a scowl. “And what if I don’t take it?”
Tony steps closer, his voice dropping to a low, deadly tone. “Then I’ll make sure everyone knows who you really are, Cole. Your manipulative, gaslighting, toxic little games? They’re over. If you so much as breathe in Y/N’s direction again, I’ll ruin you in ways you can’t even imagine. You won’t just lose her—you’ll lose everything.”
Cole glares at him, but the fear in his eyes is unmistakable. “You can’t just—”
“Oh, I can,” Tony interrupts smoothly, leaning in so his face is mere inches from Cole’s. “And I will. Because she deserves peace, and I’m going to make damn sure she gets it. So take the deal, Cole. Consider it the best option you’ll ever get.”
For a moment, the room is silent. Cole’s jaw tightens, but he knows he’s been cornered. With a muttered curse, he throws the envelope onto the table.
“Fine,” Cole snaps. “I’ll take your stupid deal.”
Tony straightens, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “Smart choice. Now, pack your things. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning. And remember…” He pauses at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “Stay gone.”
Without another word, Tony leaves, his steps confident as he heads back to his car.
By the time Tony returns to the penthouse, the tension in his chest has eased. He knows Cole won’t be a problem anymore, and that knowledge alone is enough to make him feel lighter.
When he steps into the living room, he finds you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. You look up as he enters, a soft smile spreading across your face.
“There you are,” you say warmly. “I was starting to think you bailed on me.”
Tony grins, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “Bail on movie night? Not a chance.”
He sits down beside you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and leaning back into the cushions. The tension from earlier melts away entirely as you press play on the movie, your laughter filling the room moments later.
Tony glances at you, his chest tightening—not with worry, but with something far sweeter. You’re here, you’re safe, and you’re smiling.
And he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.
The morning sun filters through the penthouse windows, bathing the living room in golden light. You’re seated on the couch, your laptop balanced on your knees as you scroll through apartment listings. A knot tightens in your stomach with every tab you open, but you keep going. This is what you need to do, you tell yourself. It’s time to stand on your own two feet again.
Tony strolls in, coffee mug in hand, dressed casually in sweatpants and a faded band t-shirt that somehow looks effortlessly stylish. His hair is tousled, as if he just woke up, and the sight makes your heart ache more than you’d like to admit.
“Morning,” he greets, his voice warm and gravelly. He nods toward your laptop. “What’re you working on?”
You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I… I’m looking for apartments.”
Tony freezes mid-sip, lowering his mug with exaggerated slowness. “Apartments?” he echoes, his tone carefully neutral.
“Yeah,” you say, forcing a smile. “I mean, I’ve been here for months now. You’ve been more than generous, Tony, but I think it’s time I find my own place. Get back to normal, you know?”
Tony leans against the counter, his gaze fixed on you. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence stretches just long enough to make you squirm.
“Normal?” he finally says, a hint of teasing in his voice. “What’s so great about normal? I thought you liked our penthouse movie nights, me burning half the dinner, and JARVIS randomly suggesting we upgrade the toaster.”
You laugh softly, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “I do like all that. It’s just… I can’t stay here forever. I need to prove to myself that I can do this on my own.”
Tony’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. He sets his mug down on the counter, crossing his arms. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Y/N. Least of all me.”
“It’s not about proving something to you,” you say, your voice quieter now. “It’s about proving it to myself. I’ve been leaning on you for so long, and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done. But…”
Tony’s lips press into a thin line, and he nods, cutting you off gently. “But you’re ready to spread your wings, find your own space. I get it.”
He’s trying so hard to sound casual, but you see through him. His eyes don’t quite meet yours, and his usual easy confidence seems dimmed.
You hate how much it hurts to see him like this. And worse, you hate how much it hurts you to even consider leaving.
“Tony, it’s not like I’ll be far,” you say, trying to ease the tension. “I’ll visit all the time. You’ll probably get sick of me dropping by unannounced.”
Tony finally meets your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not possible. But, hey, if that’s what you want, I’ll support you.”
The words are so simple, so Tony. He’s always supported you, always put your needs above his own. And maybe that’s part of why leaving feels so wrong.
Over the next few days, you keep searching for apartments, though your heart isn’t in it. You don’t want to leave—not really—but the fear that’s been gnawing at you since Cole resurfaces every time you catch Tony looking at you a little too long, or when his hand brushes yours during movie night, or when he smiles at you like you’re the only person in the room.
You’re falling for him. Hard.
And it terrifies you.
You’ve been burned before, shattered by someone you thought you could trust. And even though Tony is nothing like Cole—even though he’s shown you nothing but kindness and care—part of you can’t help but think that loving him would leave you just as broken.
So you push him away, bit by bit.
Tony notices.
One evening, you’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner. You don’t hear Tony approach until he’s standing next to you, leaning casually against the counter.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” he says, his tone light but probing.
You glance at him, forcing a smile. “Have I?”
He nods, studying you with those sharp, perceptive eyes. “You’re pulling back. I can see it.”
Your hands still, and you grip the edge of the counter. “I’m not pulling back,” you say weakly.
Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, if you need space, just say so. I’ll back off, no questions asked. But if this is about more than just apartments…” He trails off, searching your face.
You shake your head quickly. “It’s not about anything else.”
His eyes narrow slightly, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you. But he doesn’t press further.
“Okay,” he says softly. “If that’s what you want.”
That night, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling. The guilt churns in your stomach, warring with the fear you can’t seem to shake.
You think about Tony—his laugh, his kindness, the way he makes you feel like you’re worth something.
And then you think about Cole, about the way he made you feel small, worthless, afraid.
Tears prick at your eyes as you realize the truth: you’re not pushing Tony away because of him. You’re pushing him away because of you. Because you’re scared of letting yourself be loved, scared of what it means to let someone in again.
But deep down, you know that Tony isn’t Cole. He never has been, and he never will be.
The thought stays with you as you drift off to sleep, unsure of what tomorrow will bring—but certain of one thing.
Tony Stark has your heart. And maybe it’s time to let him keep it.
The new apartment is nice. Spacious enough, with lots of natural light pouring through the big windows. It has the kind of charm you’d usually love—cozy corners for reading, a kitchen you can actually picture yourself cooking in. But as you stand in the middle of the living room, surrounded by neatly stacked boxes and the faint smell of fresh paint, it feels hollow.
Tony is across the room, carefully setting down a box labeled "fragile." He straightens up, brushing imaginary dust off his hands, and gives you a lopsided grin. “Well, that’s the last of it. You’re officially moved in.”
You force a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks for all your help.”
“Anytime.” He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as his eyes flicker over your face. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you lie, avoiding his gaze.
He doesn’t push, just nods slowly. “Right. Well…” He glances around, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How about one last night at the penthouse? A farewell to the old place before you settle in here.”
You hesitate. You know he’s giving you an excuse, a reason to stall without outright saying it. But the idea of leaving this quiet, empty apartment for one more night in the warmth of his home… in the warmth of him… is too tempting to resist.
“Okay,” you say softly.
Tony’s face lights up, and it tugs at something deep in your chest. “Great. Let’s go grab takeout and pick a movie. Your choice this time.”
That night, you’re lying in bed in Tony’s penthouse, staring at the ceiling. The sound of the city hums faintly in the background, but your mind is far from quiet.
This doesn’t feel right. None of it does.
Moving into the new apartment, leaving behind the safety and comfort of Tony’s home—it feels like you’re walking away from something you don’t actually want to let go of.
Your chest tightens as you think about him, about the way he’s been your constant these past months. The way he’s shown you kindness and patience, reminding you of your worth when you’d forgotten it. The way he looks at you, like you’re the most important person in the world.
And the truth you’ve been avoiding hits you like a freight train: You’re in love with him. You have been for a long time.
The thought makes your heart race—not with fear, but with something else entirely. Something that feels a lot like hope.
Unable to stay still, you throw off the covers and swing your legs out of bed. You need to tell him. Now.
But when you open the bedroom door, you find him standing there, in his plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt, looking startled to see you.
“Tony?” you whisper, confused.
“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh, I wasn’t spying or anything, I just… I wanted to check on you. You seemed off earlier, and I thought—”
“You were standing outside my door?”
“Yeah,” he admits, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that, but I didn’t want to bother you if you were sleeping, so…”
Your heart swells at the sight of him—this brilliant, confident man looking so adorably unsure of himself.
“Tony,” you say softly, stepping closer.
He takes a deep breath, his expression turning serious. “I need to say something,” he says, his voice quieter now. “And I know the timing sucks, and I’m probably going to mess this up, but… I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. And I know you’ve been through hell, and the last thing I want to do is make things harder for you, but I can’t keep it in anymore.”
Your breath catches in your throat, but Tony doesn’t stop.
“I get it if you’re not ready, or if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed you to know. Because having you in my life has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and—”
You don’t let him finish.
Closing the space between you, you press your lips to his, cutting off his rambling with a kiss that’s soft and certain.
Tony freezes for a moment, his brain seemingly short-circuiting, before he kisses you back with an intensity that makes your knees weak. His hands come up to cup your face, holding you like you’re something precious, something he can’t quite believe is real.
When you finally pull back, his eyes are wide, his expression caught somewhere between stunned and elated.
“I want to give this a chance,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared, and I need to go slow, but… I want this. I want you.”
Tony’s face splits into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen, and he looks at you like you’ve just handed him the universe.
“As slow as you want,” he says quickly, his voice full of breathless excitement. “But, uh… can I have another kiss? Just, you know, to make sure I’m not dreaming.”
You laugh, your heart lighter than it’s been in years. “Yeah, you can have another kiss.”
And when you kiss him again, it feels like coming home.
Life with Tony Stark as your boyfriend is both everything you expected and nothing like you imagined. He’s indulgent, affectionate, and relentless in making you feel like the most important person in the world. But there’s also an unshakable tenderness in how he supports you—helping you unpack not just the physical baggage of your life but the emotional scars left behind by Cole.
It starts with the small things.
In the weeks following your confession, Tony seems to be on a personal mission to make you laugh every day. He whisks you off to rooftop picnics, surprises you with coffee at exactly the right time during your workday, and keeps gifting you little trinkets he claims “just reminded me of you.” One morning, you wake to find a tiny key-shaped necklace on your bedside table with a note attached: “You already have the key to my heart, but this one’s cuter.”
He doesn’t stop there. Every chance he gets, Tony casually reminds you of your beauty. Whether it’s a whispered “God, you’re stunning” as he watches you brush your hair, or a grin as he walks into the room and says, “How are you real?” he refuses to let a day pass without telling you how much you mean to him.
At first, it’s overwhelming. You’re not used to this—to being loved so openly, so freely, without conditions.
And sometimes, the habits Cole drilled into you creep in.
One night, you’re cooking dinner. It’s been a long day for both of you, but Tony insists on helping, chopping vegetables while chatting animatedly about a new design he’s working on. You laugh at his enthusiasm, but there’s a pang of guilt in your chest as you glance at the cluttered counter.
“I should’ve cleaned up first,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this mess.”
Tony pauses, knife mid-air, and looks at you with furrowed brows. “What?”
“It’s just… messy,” you say, gesturing vaguely at the kitchen. “You’ve had a long day, and—”
“Whoa, hold up,” he interrupts, setting the knife down. “Y/N, I’m not exactly allergic to a few crumbs on the counter. And even if I were, it wouldn’t matter because I’m here with you.”
You glance away, embarrassed. “I just don’t want to inconvenience you.”
Tony steps closer, gently taking your hands in his. “Listen to me,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not an inconvenience. You’ve never been an inconvenience. If you leave a mess, we clean it up. If you’re tired, we order takeout. Whatever it is, we figure it out together. Okay?”
You nod, blinking back tears.
He leans down to kiss your forehead, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t have to shrink yourself for me, Y/N. Not ever.”
Moments like that happen often.
You find yourself unconsciously deferring to Tony’s preferences—asking him what he wants to watch, what he wants to eat, what he thinks you should wear. It’s not intentional; it’s just a habit born from years of trying to keep the peace with someone who made you feel like you could never do anything right.
Tony, of course, notices.
“Okay, hold up,” he says one evening, holding the TV remote hostage as you try to hand it to him.
“What?” you ask, confused.
“I’m not making this decision,” he declares. “You pick the movie.”
“But—”
“Nope.” He cuts you off with a cheeky grin. “Your turn. I’ll watch anything. Even one of those rom-coms where everyone falls in love during a snowstorm and learns the true meaning of Christmas.”
You laugh despite yourself. “You hate those movies.”
“Not true,” he says with mock seriousness. “I love them if you’re watching with me. So what’s it gonna be?”
It’s a small thing, picking a movie. But when you make your choice and see the way Tony smiles—like he’s proud of you for speaking up—it feels like a victory.
Tony’s affection isn’t just verbal.
He’s incredibly touchy, constantly finding excuses to hold your hand, drape an arm around your shoulders, or pull you into a hug. When you’re working late in the lab, he sneaks up behind you to kiss your temple or nuzzle your neck, murmuring something about how much he loves seeing your “brilliant brain in action.”
And he adores cuddling.
One lazy Sunday morning, you wake to find him practically glued to your side, his arm slung around your waist and his head resting on your shoulder.
“You’re clingy,” you tease, though you make no effort to move away.
“Clingy?” he echoes, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know this is a highly advanced form of affection distribution.”
You laugh, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Oh, is that what this is?”
“Absolutely,” he says, leaning into your touch. “Can’t let my girlfriend forget how much I love her. It’s a full-time job.”
Your heart swells at the word girlfriend. It still feels surreal, hearing him say it so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Over time, you start to notice a shift within yourself.
The habits you developed around Cole—the constant second-guessing, the need to please, the fear of taking up space—begin to fade. It’s not an overnight change, but it’s there, thanks to Tony’s unrelenting patience and love.
He doesn’t just tell you that you’re enough; he shows you, every single day.
One evening, you’re sitting on the couch together, your legs draped over his lap as you sip a glass of wine. Out of nowhere, he says, “You know you’re amazing, right?”
You look at him, surprised. “What brought that on?”
“Just felt like saying it,” he replies with a shrug, though there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and you have this way of lighting up a room without even trying. I don’t think I’ve told you that today, so…”
You set your glass down and lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you,” you whisper.
“For what?” he asks, his arms sliding around your waist.
“For loving me the way you do.”
Tony pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression serious. “Y/N, loving you isn’t something I do. It’s who I am.”
Months pass, and the two of you settle into a rhythm—a life filled with laughter, love, and the occasional mishap (usually involving Tony’s cooking experiments).
You start to feel like yourself again, like the person you were before Cole, only stronger. And every time you catch Tony looking at you with that soft, adoring expression, you’re reminded that this is what love is supposed to feel like.
Safe. Supportive. Unconditional.
And every day, you fall for him a little more.
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Girls, boys, people, never ever doubt your self worth, and more than anything don't let anyone make you doubt of it. Because you're worth it, you're worth everything. Remember, if he hits you, it's not love, if he makes you feel small or underserving or bad, or anything like that, it's not love. Love is supposed to turn you to the best version of yourself, to make you happy. Always remember that <3
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library card ➵ valgrace university au
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FINALE - part 10 [masterlist]
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☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Leo slid his phone down his back pocket and viewed the landscape of New Rome University. He can see that the sun, although ithadn't set yet, is a burst of brilliant light, scattering orange, purple, and pink hues in the sky. He really hates driving at night, and he really could just return to the architecture building tomorrow, but the curiousity is killing him. He had to go back. Now.
"Hey, are you in a hurry? I need to go somewhere," he called to Piper, who was walking by him on the way to the parking lot.
"Where are you going?" Piper asked, abruptly stopping to see that Leo had fallen behind.
"I think I left something. Can you wait for me? Or you can go on without me if you want," he said.
Piper shrugged. "It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Great!" he replied. "Be safe."
"You too," Piper said before turning to walk away.
Leo tried to walk the first few yards, but his feet took over and then he's sprinting. There was a loud pounding in his chest; whether it was from the sprinting or the nerves, he's not sure. At last, he arrived at the building, and the pounding just banged even more.
He paved cautiously, scared and excited about what he's gonna find. He's been searching for it everywhere he go, turning his head at every drawing tube yielding individual he sees, hoping his eyes lands on the right one. Perhaps it did, but now he will have a name. And now, Leo is certain.
His feet lead him to the bulletin board, his Docs squeaking at every step he takes against the tiled floor. The building is empty except the few students hanging out the tables just outside the archway, close to the vestibule in which Leo is at. He let out a shaky breath, steadying his chest as he approached.
He knew the piece very well. He admits that the reason it slipped his mind to look at the name was because the illustration captivated him first and his gaze simply brushed over the title block in the corner. Then he went back to admiring it.
It's some sort of summer camp. It has multiple buildings that carried different architectural styles but unified with classical elements, which he never imagined would work this well. At the frontage stood a big blue house white trim and wrap-around porch, and close to it stood a big pine tree. The pine tree seems huge and daunting, like some magical entity that protects the land.
There were cabins. It was surrounding a firepit in the middle, in a horseshoe shape. There might've been 20, but he's not sure. He took note of the little shabby chic cabin and got the sudden urge to tell Piper about it.
And then there's the red one. His eyes lingered at the little brick building. It's a mixture of industrial and steampunk, seemingly out of place to the bright gold and the wooden cabins on either side of it. He remembered pressing his palm against the sheet of glass that protects the board, brushing his index finger at the tiny drawing. He had never been in a summer camp before, but the tall columns and the bronze statues and the waves of the ocean are singing that he had been here before. He's even so sure that there's a hidden bunker in the woods somewhere.
Somehow, he is certain, that in another life, he is a camper in this camp, and he is with his best friend Piper McLean, and Jason Grace.
Jason Grace.
His gaze catapulted to the bottom right corner. And then he saw it. Right next to the student number he's been typing at the library for months, was Jason Grace's name. It was a name he memorized so well, so well that he didn't even struggle to read it even with dyslexia. It's as if his mind is trained to look for Jason Grace.
He fished his phone from his pocket, hands shaking. Then he dialed the number.
"Hello?" the speaker on the other end replied. It was Jason's voice.
"Hey. . . I'm at the archi building right now," Leo said, trying to disguise his nervous voice.
"I know, I'm looking at you right now."
He turned to the courtyard, and saw Jason amongst the students in the table. He smiled at him when he caught his eyes, phone pressed against his ear.
"See, I told you, it's easy to figure out," Jason chuckled on the phone. The Jason he's looking at rose, and approached.
Leo dropped the phone. "Hi," he said, to the Jason in front of him.
"Hi." He said it better than Leo. The word glides smoothly out of his mouth, with the smile never leaving from his face. There was a trace of a scar on the top corner of his lips, forming a crescent shape guided by his smile.
Leo bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to think about Jason's stupid lips, and the stupid scar on his lips, and the stupid smile on his lips.
"I'm sorry, this is so embarrassing," Leo said, shifting his gaze away from Jason. "This is so weird."
"What do you mean it's weird?"
"This! I've made it weird! I said some weird things now this is weird!"
"What? No, you didn't do anything weird at all!"
Leo avoided his gaze. "This is like a pattern for me, I fall in love so easily, and I do something embarassing, and then I drive them away. I — I just. . ."
"Hey." Jason put a hand on Leo's arm, sending thousans volts of electricity down his body. "None of this is embarrassing, it's just me."
Leo sighed. "Well, it will soon! I don't know how to act, I've never made it past the daydreaming phase! I've never had anyone know I like them, I just keep it to myself."
"You think this is embarassing? You should ask Malcolm how I acted when I saw you at the bleachers," Jason chuckled, his hand dropping grip Leo's wrist. "Good thing the helmet hid my face well, and you're far enough to not see it."
"W-what do you mean?" Leo stammered.
"You know what I mean! Now I'm the one who's embarassed."
"I didn't know you know me!"
"Of course I know you! You brought amazing flan to Mrs. Jackson's Christmas party!"
"I—" Leo dropped his head to hide his face, chuckling in disbelief. "So what now?"
"I say dinner?" Jason tilted his head, waiting for Leo's response.
"Your treat? Since you're the rich one?"
"Hey, you still owe me 30 dollars!"
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
When he went home that night, a huge smile plastered across his face, Leo took out his phone and changed the contact on his phone. The mystery man he's been texting now has a name, and it is Jason Grace.
He was typing his thank you to Jason for the amazing night when the phone vibrated on his hand, along with it was a text from Piper. He smiled to himself. He has a lot of things to tell his best friend.
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