#god i hate that immediate defensive/prideful feeling that wells up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pparadiselost · 2 years ago

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happy ending.

masseur iwaizumi hajime x fem reader iwaizumi's feelings run deeper than he expected. warning(s): nsfw, sex worker iwaizumi, ambiguous relationship minors do not interact.

“hello again,” the all-too-familiar voice welcomes you with a bright smile. “the pretty lady’s come to visit me.”

your heart threatens to beat out of your chest as you lay down on the massage table. a thin robe separates your bare body from iwaizumi hajime’s expert eyes, acting almost like the last line of defense between the man and your nearly-demolished pride. this kind of back-and-forth relationship was nothing new to you, and especially him, yet your stomach swirls like it’s the first time.

your eyes flutter shut, and you force a deep breath through your mouth. a large, calloused hand teasingly flutters over your exposed legs, rubbing slow circles up from your knees to your thighs. his fingers are slick, all oiled up with massage serum, and they glide over your body with little resistance.

even if it’s for your pride, you know goddamn well that attempting to resist him would only be a farce that he’d see through in an instant.

“not even a ‘hello’?” iwaizumi laughs, pretending to be hurt. “i got excited when i heard that you were coming to see me today. you know how much i like seeing you.”

you had sworn to yourself each and every time you came crawling here that this would be the last time, swearing off of this temptation for good, but without fail, you somehow found yourself here not too long after. god, you always thought you were better than this, better than to turn to such underhanded ways to take care of your needs, better than to turn away from every other functional solution in the book.

better than to become dependent on a sex worker.

“c’mon, where has my chatty little lady gone?” iwaizumi snaps you out of your thoughts when his fingers knead suggestively at the curve of your thighs. his hands are no stranger to your body, and your body immediately begins responding to him as his fingertips explore your legs. “normally you’re so eager to talk to me. you have to tell me where you want me to massage you, or i won’t know how to service you best.”

your mouth feels dry when you manage to peel your eyes open. he glances down from above you, and his eyes are as warm and enticing as always. you hate how physically attractive he is: broad shoulders and chest, toned biceps built up from his years of massaging clients, big hands that easily grab and coax your body into a state of relaxed euphoria. it’s like his presence is a drug in it of itself; just knowing that he’s staring at you and giving you all of his attention has you squirming underneath him.

“i-i felt lonely,” you squeak out. “i wanted to be with someone, and all i could think about was coming to you…”

“so you were thinking of me,” he murmurs. a coy smile tugs at his lips, and you swallow thickly. He's ridiculously handsome, and you hate how lecherously your body responds to everything he does. “that makes me really happy, did you know that? knowing that a pretty lady like you thinks of me makes me feel really good.”

his voice is low and sensual, and he continues to rub at your thighs. your core twists and throbs dully, already feeling the effects of his hands on your legs. part of you wishes that he wasn’t so sweet with you, so ready to indulge whatever fantasy you had, but the other part of you revels in hearing that.

you sigh as he works out the tension in your thighs, his hands traveling dangerously upwards. just the sheer anticipation of seeing him had your pussy drooling while you changed out of your clothes, swapping them for the massage robes you had grown accustomed to, and whenever his knuckles travel higher and higher, your core pulses.

you want him. you want those thick fingers inside you, teasing at your needy cunt and fucking you out of them. your head spins with desire, and your body flushes with heat.

“let me guess…” he pinches at your flesh gently, dragging up the hem of your robes up to your waist. you shudder when his hands drop down to your kneecaps, and he pushes against them gently to spread your legs open. a shiver runs up your spine when the cool massage parlor air rushes against your inner thighs and up your exposed slit. “if my pretty girl is sounding this stressed, then i have no choice but to give her some special treatment… you don’t mind now, do you?”

you shake your head. “please… i want it.”

“good girl,” he praises sweetly. “i know what’s best for you. i promise i’ll make you feel reeeeeeal good in a little bit. you have to trust me, okay? gotta make sure that pretty body of yours can keep up with me.”

you nod. you’d let him do whatever he wanted to do to you so long as you’d get to stay with him. your eyes never leave him as he continues to massage your legs sensually, making sure no part of your lower half went untouched. you know he means best, but having him touch you without anything to alleviate the heat coiling and pooling in your gut feels like pure torture.

he can see the way your body trembles underneath his palms, your curves filling out his palms and submitting to his touches so easily. “you’re doing so good for me, dollface. you know how much i love working with you. you always take what i give you, that sweet body of yours… it’s like you were made for my hands.”

“iwa-,” you manage out. you want to rub your thighs together so bad, alleviate some of the pressure in your stomach that’s choking up your senses. your cunt won’t stop clenching around nothing, your hole fluttering excitedly whenever his hands would slide up a little too far.

“i know, pretty, i know,” he soothes. “i’m doing my job. i’d hate to make you all sore when you came to me for the exact opposite.”

sore? you’re pretty sure your body’s about to cave in on itself if you don’t get him to do something. the last thing on your mind is about how you’re going to feel later. a sick part of your mind reasons that if you end up sore after this, you can always come back to have iwaizumi work out the knots. a perfect excuse to visit your momentary sweetheart once more.

your breath catches in the back of your throat, and a pathetic excuse of a moan escapes you when he massages the part of your body where your thighs meet your crotch. his fingers move in suggestive motions back and forth right next to your drenched cunt, shamelessly making a mess between your legs. you’re sure iwaizumi has noticed how wet you are by now, and he’s purposefully sticking to his professional shtick just to rile you up.

if that’s the approach he’s going for, it’s working. as much as you hate to admit, it’s taking everything in you to not grind against his wrist every time he touches near your crotch. your mind is foggy and heavy with lust, your rationale easily clouding over with primal need. iwaizumi has a knack for sending you spiraling into this animalistic like state, where all you can think about is having your cunt stuffed stupid on his massage table.

“you’re holding out so well for me,” the young man murmurs. his voice is sticky and sweet like honey against your ears, and you want to taste his mouth on yours. “do you think you’re ready? think i’ve prepped you enough to take me?”

“yes…!” you gasp. “i’m ready- ‘m ready to take you-”

two fingers move to your core, and he presses his knuckles against your drooling core. you whimper as he slowly spreads your lips apart and finds your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles onto your sensitive nub with his fingertips. heat jerks up into your core, and your pussy’s desperate to have something inside it, to have something stretching out your walls and fucking into you.

iwaizumi hums to himself as he toys with your clit, his honed eyes watching every twitch of your body as he plays with you. he isn’t brutally rough, just rough enough that you can feel every purposeful movement of his wrists and fingers, enough to send you recoiling into the massage bed with pleasure. his other hand latches onto one of your kneecaps, forcefully keeping your legs spread out so that you’re fully exposed to him. you grip at the side of the bed, trying to keep yourself grounded in some way while iwaizumi imitates the motions of a vibrator against your clit.

“nngh…! mmh- iwa- please-” you almost unconsciously buck your hips against his hand, your back arching into his touch. “need more- please, i’m so horny-”

he moves his fingertips up and down your slit, coating his fingers generously with your slick. you moan as he ghosts over your hole, not indulging you with the pleasure of penetration just yet. it’s so humiliating, having your cunt spread out all vulnerable for a man who’s taking his time admiring you and teasing you to your limit, yet you can’t help but get aroused at everything he’s doing to you.

“does this feel good?” he asks. “it’s my job to make sure all my clients feel good before anything else.”

you swear that this man is going to be the death of you. you sob out, “yes! yes, yes, it feels good! don’t tease me like this, iwa- need you in me- need you inside my pussy-”

“oh?” he laughs. two fingertips prod at your entrance, and he laps up the sight of your pretty cunt fluttering at the touch. “you weren’t even saying hello to me earlier, but now you’re feeling rather chatty, aren’t you?”

“‘m sorry-” your body burns with need. if you don’t have him right now, you don’t know what you’ll do with yourself. “please, i’m sorry, i really am- please, iwa, finger me already…”

“now, if you give me a direct command like that, i have no choice but to follow.” he smiles down at you. you grit your teeth as he slowly sticks his two fingers inside of you, your walls eagerly clamping down on his knuckles as he penetrates you bit-by-bit. a strangled moan rips through you as his knuckles stretch you out, and you can feel every little movement of his fingers as he buries himself into you.

you nearly shut your legs from the overwhelming feeling, but iwaizumi keeps a firm hold on your knees. he chides you mockingly, “ah, ah, ah, dollface. i can’t do my job if you don’t give me proper access.”

he can feel your cunt tightening and squeezing around his fingers. his cock strains against his pants, imagining how good it would feel to have your walls all fucked out on his dick instead. but iwaizumi is a professional, and no matter how much blood rushes south as he watches you whine and squirm just from being penetrated on his fingers, he keeps his cool.

everything about this man is unfair to you. his fingers feel inhumanly good inside of you, and before you can even give him your usual clear, he’s already pumping them in and out at a moderate pace. your stomach curls in on itself, and you whimper, your pussy making lewd squelching noises. you know he’s not doing much, only moving his hand back and forth in the general motion of fucking, yet you already feel so heavy-headed and buzzed off of it.

“my pretty lady’s so desperate today.” iwaizumi likes the power rush this gives him. he has you right where he wants you—all at his mercy underneath his hands. you’re already acting this fucked out and horny from his fingers that he can’t fathom how dicked-down-dumb you’re going to be once he gets you ready for the real deal. “did you miss my touch that much? hmmm?”

he scissors you carefully, wiggling his fingers inside of you. you jerk violently against the cool massage bed, crying out loudly as the knot in your gut coils violently. “d-don’t move like that-! don’t be so rough with me…!”

“so sensitive too,” he whispers. despite your cries, he doesn’t stop his onslaught on your cunt. he keeps moving his fingers in a way that drives you mad, has you shaking and mewling to no avail under his touch. he fucks you out on his fingers, curling them into your cunt in a way that has you seeing stars and pumping them in and out to feel your hole clinging to his knuckles greedily.

nothing, absolutely nothing, escapes his notice.

“let me guess.” he plunges his fingers into you again, probing around for your sweet spot. your nails dig into the soft material of the bed, leaving crescent moon marks into the foam. “you couldn’t get off properly since the last time you were with me, could you? no matter how much you tried to fuck yourself on the toys you have home or cum on your fingers, nothing could make you feel good, could it? you just had to come back to me in order to feel anything, to take out everything that’s been building up in you?”

you don’t dare answer him. iwaizumi knows your body like it’s the back of his hand, having explored every inch of you over and over again. he knows you don’t stand a chance against him, not when he knows the perfect ways to egg your body into perfect submission.

if you won’t speak to him, then he’ll simply find a way to force you to answer. he twists his fingers so that his fingertips fuck right into your g-spot, and the effect is immediate.

“iwa!!!” you shriek. your buck your hips suddenly, right into his touch, and he’s nearly unraveled you right there and then. his grip on your tightens, keeping you pinned down against the bed with no choice but to take his fingers as he tortures your g-spot.

“that’s what i thought,” he chuckles darkly. “couldn’t hit that spot right there on your own now, could you? you’ve gotten too used to how i feel. why else would you visit me this much? my pretty lady can’t get herself to cum without me. you need me in order to feel good again.”

“fuck. fuck-!” pleasure overwhelms your body, rushing all through your veins like an incessant monster demanding to be noticed. your cunt shamelessly squelches and gushes all around his knuckles, and your hips can’t help but grind against his fingertips. it’s almost inexplicable, the effect iwaizumi has on you. he knows this best, and he savors the power rush it gives him to see you like this, practically squirting all over his wrist while he keeps you stuck on his massage table.

your orgasm nearly breaks you. iwaizumi feels your plush walls contort and cling to his fingers, and he continues to coax your climax for as long as he can. you’re panting, your body twisting and turning as you squirm under his touch, but iwaizumi wants to keep you in this drunkenly euphoric state for just a little bit longer.

he thinks you look beautiful like this: your body weak and pliant for him, puffy pussy overstimulated and spread out on his fingers, your cunt glistening with your cum and pulsing around his hand like it's begging for something bigger to stretch it out.

something like his cock, for instance.

you shudder. your body feels ridiculously heavy, as if your blood was replaced with lead, and the after effects of your orgasm cling to you. your mind is numb and foggy, reeling from the mind blowing pleasure that iwaizumi forced out of you, and your breathing turns ragged as you lay there all sprawled out on his work table.

“that’s a good girl,” the dark-haired man praises. you shudder again when he pulls his fingers out of you, and iwaizumi admires the sticky string of cum that connects his fingertips to your hole. “bet that felt good, didn’t it? yeah, i know it felt good cumming on my fingers.”

his entire body screams at him to fuck you. his cock strains against his pants, practically choking against the tight material of his underwear, and despite the calm demeanor he keeps, iwaizumi’s barely keeping it together himself. his base instincts are tempting him, telling him to toss his pants off and grab your thighs, to pull you flush to him and fuck into you more like an animal than a man, to fill that slutty pussy of yours up with the cum that you’ve been so desperate for and to feel you shake under him from how good it feels to have your hole stuffed and fucked.

he shakes his head. no. you’re not here for him to use. you’re here to see him, to feel good yourself. it would be unprofessional and straight wrong of him to view you so selfishly, to look at your body with so much lust that he swears he’s going to asphyxiate.

he rubs gentle circles into your thighs, waiting for your breathing to stabilize. “hanging in there?”

“yeah-,” you gasp out, nodding your head slightly. “felt good- that felt so good, iwa…”

he laughs, and he hopes you can’t hear how shaky his voice is. “don’t get all weak on me now. we’re only just getting started, doll. you ready for me, or do you need another minute?”

iwaizumi wants to ravish you. it isn’t right for him to feel this strongly towards a client, towards someone that he shouldn’t hold any feelings for, but the way you tempt him makes him want to scream. he doesn’t see a ring on your finger, no mention of a boyfriend making you so unhappy that you have to come see him instead to sate your sexual needs, and he wants to daydream so bad. he wants to think that he’s the only man that can make you moan, that can make you feel good, that can make that cute cunt of yours squirt all around him until you can’t even breathe.

it’s bad. he has it bad.

“i’m ready…,” you eke out. something inside him stirs sadistically at your voice, and his mouth feels dry as he methodically undoes his pants. you stare at the bulge in his boxers, your pussy throbbing at the thought of his cock inside you, and when he pulls his underwear down, your eyes widen at the size.

this isn’t the first time you’re going to take him, and you doubt it’s going to be your last. but you’d be damned if you thought that you were going to have any of it easy. you swear you can already feel the burn, the stretch, in your cunt, and you’re grateful that iwaizumi took the time to loosen you up with a round already.

he pats at the table, motioning for you to get into position. you scoot down so that you can press your crotch up against his, your legs hanging off of the table while iwaizumi stands over you. his dick rubs up and down your slit, coating himself with a generous amount of your slick. you can feel him twitch against your cunt, desperate to be buried deep inside you, and your pussy painfully clamps up against nothing.

“i don’t think i’ve even done that much to you, but your body’s already ready to take my cock,” he remarks wryly. “gonna make you feel good, alright? stop me at any point if something doesn’t feel right.”

“don’t worry.” you smile at him weakly. “that’s never an issue. you’re so sweet to me, iwaizumi. there’s a reason why i keep coming back to you.”

he grabs his hard cock, lining it up with your entrance. he doesn’t push himself in immediately, but rather, he grabs your hips tightly. his dark eyes meet yours, and your chest tightens when you see the dangerous expression that swirls in his irises.

“hajime,” he breathes. “don’t call me ‘iwaizumi’ while we do this. say my first name.”

iwaizumi doesn’t wait to hear you respond before he’s sliding himself in. your mouth immediately falls open when you feel his cock stretching out your walls, heavy and invading every inch of your sensitive hole. he’s being careful, but even then, it feels like he’s splitting you into two. you whimper, clenching your eyes shut as your velvety walls envelop his dick completely, and he lets out a low groan when he feels you fluttering and pulsing all around him.

he hasn’t even bottomed out inside you, yet your pussy welcomes him in so greedily. it’s like that insatiable cunt of yours was made to take him, made specifically for him to fall in love with and for him to fuck out on his cock until you couldn’t even think about having sex with other men.

“ohhhhhhhh, fuuuuuuuck-!” your voice is airy and drawn out, and iwaizumi wishes he could record it to play it over to himself over and over again. it’s wrong for him to feel this way, to let his heart reach through his bones and flesh towards you, but you keep squeezing his cock and trying to burn the imprint of his dick into your plush walls.

and this is coming from him. he’s seen all sorts of clients, fucked all sorts of different people with that cool professionalism he prides himself with, selling out his body like some kind of commodity because people are willing to fork over money for him.

but when it comes to you? iwaizumi’s convinced you’re a gift sent from heaven. you look so angelic—body all laid out for him, eyes clenched shut as your drooling cunt adjusts to the stretch, legs hooked over his hips, your entire body drunk off of him.

“feeling that good already?” he teases lightly. his calloused hands slap at your hips, and the slight sting makes you clench up around him. “not so fast, pretty lady. we still have a lot of fun in store for us. i can’t serve you properly if you’re going to let yourself go this quickly.”

“c-cock feels so big-,” you whine out. his stomach lurches when he hears you moan, his swollen length threatening to twitch inside of you. the most animalistic urge to pound into you ruthlessly overtakes him momentarily, but iwaizumi swallows heavily and draws his hips back carefully instead.

you let out such a breathless gasp when you feel his slick cock slide out of you before slowly penetrating you again. your walls clamp up and follow him, trying to suck him back into you, greedily clinging to every inch and vein on his girthy dick. what a greedy cunt you have, already broken in so obediently thanks to iwaizumi’s constant efforts, that it’s willing to eat up whatever the masseur is willing to give you.

and he knows you’re feeling good. “c’mon, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. you can take it, can’t you? you’ve taken me before—yeah, that’s it, baby. gonna make you feel good on my cock. that pretty pussy of yours is doing so good…”

your gut twists at his words, and the heat that floods your stomach goes right to your head. your body feels sticky and hot, already overwhelmed from earlier. he’s so dirty even with his praise, and having your hot masseur’s cock splitting your cunt in two doesn’t make the throbbing in your core and skull feel any better.

“c-can’t take too much-,” you sob out, your voice shaking. “‘m still so sensitive- i just came-”

“you said you were ready, doll,” he reminds you. his voice pulls you through the fog and fatigue and overstimulation clinging to your nerves, and you peel your eyes open to look at him. your cunt won’t stop coiling around him, and he pumps his dick in and out, in and out. he’s not being particularly rough or even that demanding, yet having him fuck you slowly like this makes your toes curl.

it doesn’t even feel like he’s fucking you anymore. you swear that it feels like lovemaking, like he’s touching you in the way a lover should, rather than a monetary exchange between a patron and a worker… you’re overrun with the urge to cling to him, to call out his name like he asked you to.

he fucks his dick into you, carefully and lovingly. your pussy eagerly takes him in, sticky walls rubbing up all against him and making his head spin. iwaizumi wishes he could properly articulate how you feel, how good your body feels when he’s balls deep inside of you, but all he can fixate on is the way your cunt drools and sticks onto him.

“so deep-,” you choke back a wave of lewd moans. your core flares with heat, with need, and every time his cockhead teases your insides, you shudder with ecstasy. it’s so wrong, to be so dependent on someone that isn’t even your lover to let out all of your pent-up libido, but it feels so good. “you’re going so deep…!”

“i know,” iwaizumi whispers. “i can feel your pussy taking me in. you’re doing so good for me, pretty girl. does it feel good?”

“yes! feels good, feels so good-,” you eagerly reply. “faster- you can move faster- wanna feel you more-”

oh? the knot in iwaizumi’s stomach hardens, and you let out a wanton whimper when you feel his grip on your hips tighten. you know you begged for him to give you more, yet when he snaps his crotch against yours a bit rougher, your body threatens to give out on you. he’s already pushing you to your limits, stretching out your seams, yet for some reason, you can’t get enough of how good it feels to have him break you over and over again.

“let yourself go, beautiful.” iwaizumi’s voice is haunting, determined to coax you into melting away. he wants you all tucked out and fucked in his arms, and your mind blanks every time you feel his cock ram into you with that much more force. your body lurches and shakes on the massage table, letting out loud gasps every time his dick plunges into you.

“so good-!” you throw your head back, hands clawing at the sides of the table. “oh- god, fuck, fuck- fuuuuuck, you’re going to make a mess out of my pussy…!”

“haven’t i already?” iwaizumi lightly quips back. “you wouldn’t feel the need to visit me this much if i hadn’t.”

“more- more-,” you pant. your thighs quiver around his waist, locking around his body and trying to force him in further. you should know better than to trust him this much, especially when he’s fucking into you raw, but all your sex-crazed mind can think about in that very moment is having more of his cock inside of you. “ruin me, iwaizumi! break me even more!”

iwaizumi?

he furrows his brows, and his hands move from your hips to grab at your thighs. before you can look up at him, he’s forcing your legs apart and pinning them down to the table, spreading your cunt out wider and fucking into you harder.

you immediately squeal and try to flail underneath him, the new angle and depth instantly scrambling up your insides. but iwaizumi’s grip on you is tight, and he holds you in that half-mating press-half-standing position as he drills his dick as deep as he can into you.

“i thought i told you not to call me that.” his dark eyes lock with yours, and your breath hitches in the back of your throat when you see how feral he looks. something unhinged and uncontrollable swirls behind his all-too-strained composure, and with how aggressively he’s pounding into you all of the sudden, you must have done something to him. “didn’t i tell you to quit using my last name?”

you’re fucked. you know deep down you are. with how iwaizumi’s ruthlessly angling his cock, making it feel like his cockhead is slamming right up against your womb, you can’t do anything other than letting him do as he wants. and god, does it feel good to let him have his way with you.

“i’m sorry-!” you splutter out. you sound absolutely pathetic, your words starting to slur and rise in pitch. he’s perfected the art of breaking you apart piece by piece, and the wet noises of his cock rearranging your guts makes you only feel wetter and even more aroused. it’s too much, the way he’s stretching you out and teasing your sweet spots. “n-not too rough-! if you keep moving like that, i’ll cum…!”

“isn’t that what you want though? isn’t that the reason why you came to visit me? because that cunt of yours couldn’t feel good on its own?” his nails burrow into the soft flesh of your hips, and you moan out. everything hurts. everything feels too good. everything makes your body feel like it's been lit on fire and left to burn. “c’mon, sweetheart. i’m only here to do as you want me to. it’s not my fault if you can’t listen to my instructions. i’m going to make you cum all over my cock, break that cute pussy of yours with how good my cock is, and make sure you come back here begging and drooling for my dick every time you even so much as think about getting horny.”

the tension mounting inside of you is too much. you can barely think straight, too focused on iwaizumi pounding into you like a bull in heat. his balls slap against your ass, reminding you that you’re completely at this man’s mercy. you want to beg properly, grovel and whine underneath him to be nicer to you, but the way your hole desperately inhales his length betrays your rational intentions.

“i’m sorry- i’m sorry- i’ll be good-,” you promise. you’re not even sure what you’re apologizing for or what you’re promising to behave for, but the last thing you want to do is get on iwaizumi’s bad side. this is the only time he ever acts like this, acts so selfishly that it turns you on to the point where you think you’re about to enter cardiac arrest. you can’t help as much as he can’t: his cock feels perfect inside of you, like it was made for the sole purpose of pleasuring you and filling you up. “i can’t control myself…! feels like i’m going crazy-”

“yeah?” he pistons his hips into you, and the onslaught makes your vision go blank. “gonna lose yourself like that over my dick? over your masseur’s cock?”

“yes! yes, yes, yesyesyes-,” you breathe. “never had anything like your cock before- your cock is the best!”

“stroking my ego now, huh?” he chuckles. the pressure in your stomach won’t let up, but you feel your orgasm tingling around your senses. dangerously, slowly, like a snake slithering in the grass—even when he’s being brutish, iwaizumi’s movements are controlled and calculated. he’s only doing this to make you feel good, to find a way to maximize your pleasure, so that you turn into nothing more than a shell of a person.

“please-,” you weakly blurt out. “‘m so close- so close to cumming… need just a little more! don’t tease me this much- i can’t do this anymore…!”

“you know what to do.” what iwaizumi wouldn’t give to reach over and hold you in his strong arms. to kiss you while you fall apart, tongues sloppily intertwining with one another as he mouth-fucks you while you cum all over his length. he’d touch you better than any lover could, pleasure you like you’re his partner. but he keeps his place, putting more force into his thrusts so that you shudder and thrash around futilely under his touches.

it’s not right for him to want this or to demand this from you, but iwaizumi doesn’t care. you trust him, honestly more than you ever really should, and he wants to believe that maybe somewhere in your heart, you want this as much as he does.

“say my name,” he demands. “just like how i told you to in the beginning. say my name, and then i’ll let you cum.”

you’re desperate. your stomach warps and wrings itself out of need, and you don’t even have the consciousness to think about whether or not this is appropriate. all you care about is cumming and cumming all over iwaizumi’s faithful cock.

“haji!” his name feels right on your tongue. it tastes sweet, like the syllables were made for you to moan out. “hajime, please! let me cum!”

that’s all he needs. everything about you feels lethal. your pleading eyes, body spread out all for him as you take his cock, pretty voice calling out his name like he’s always dreamt you would. he knows he’s going to be jerking himself off to this moment for months, hearing your voice echoing around his ears like the call of a dedicated girlfriend rather than a client.

“fuck- fuck!” iwaizumi grunts. you shriek when he buries himself deep into you, cock brutally stretching out your cunt as he stuffs his entire length into your pussy. “take it! take it all…!”

he cums inside of you, spilling all he has into your fucked out hole. you feel his dick twitch and pulse before something hot floods your insides. it scalds you, and you arch your back at the sudden feeling before you’re cumming all over him too.

that’s so dirty. your pussy drools and clamps up all over his dick, milking him with all its got. iwaizumi’s made you cum plenty of times before, but this is the first time you’ve ever came from being creampied. it’s lewd, so ridiculously lewd, that it fills you with equal parts shame and pleasure.

how far the mighty have fallen.

your cunt flutters around him, and he groans, thrusting through his high. your head feels numb, and your senses nearly give out on you. your breathing turns shaky as you practically convulse underneath him, pussy overwhelmed with the mind blowing sensation of your second orgasm being forced out of you. you already felt stuffed full just from his cock, but having his cum rush into you makes it feel like you’re being bred pregnant by him.

the thought makes your heart skip a beat. it’s horrid, but you can’t deny the fact that it tempts you.

you don’t realize he’s pulled himself out of you until you feel his semen leaking out of your abused hole. iwaizumi takes a step back before almost collapsing against the wall, inhaling desperately as his hawk-like eyes never leave your form. there’s something possessive about the way he looks at his pearly cum oozing out of your cunt, and as much as it fills your face with heat, you don’t have it in you to close your legs just yet.

even through the haziness of your climax, you can’t help but think about how pitiful both of you are. separated by the wall called professionalism, you wonder if these fleeting moments of understanding are about as close as you’ll ever get with being honest with him. or at the very least, letting your heart speak for itself.

…

“how much do i owe you for today?” you pull your coat closer to yourself, gripping your wallet in his hands. iwaizumi doesn’t look up from the cash register, but he waves his hand and dismisses you.

“don’t worry about it. i don’t mind letting you have today’s session on the house.” he pauses slightly before he glances up. the awkward silence between the two of you is both tragic and heartwarming, and you quietly pocket your wallet.

“are you sure? i don’t mind paying. i’m your client,” you offer meekly, only to be met with his adamant refusal.

the story always begins, ends, and repeats the same.

you shuffle here, craving iwaizumi’s touch. he has his way with you, lets you have your fun, before you pay and disappear before he can ever do anything more. that’s all it should be and all it was ever supposed to be. he wonders when that line became blurred and at what point that he began wishing that the obvious ending would change.

there would come a day when you find someone, a man that you could love without all of these scary unknowns. maybe then you’d be satisfied and no longer find the need to visit him, and he’d be left here, alone in the massage parlor without the thought of you to keep him company. maybe he’d yearn for years on end, praying that you’d miraculously walk through the doors one day to see him again.

but good things don’t come as easily to men like him.

you smile and lean over to place your hand on top of his, breaking him out of his thoughts. “thank you, then. you really didn’t have to do that.”

“will i see you again soon?” he asks. even under the guise of politeness, his emotions betray him. and as for you—you swore that you’d stop coming back, that you’d quit being so dependent on iwaizumi for your sexual needs.

but how can you say no when he asks you so directly?

you nod. “yeah. i promise to be back soon. you’ll be here for me then, hajime?”

his answer is what you expect. “always.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #iwaizumi hajime #x reader #fem reader #my writing

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sunlightandsuffering · 2 years ago

Text

This is 1000% prompted by the random filth that showed up on my insta and I felt personally victimized by it, so I had to write a drabble. also don't know what optimal dick sucking height for EM is, but i'm excited about It!

He's sitting on the couch, minding his own business, trying to find something on TV to watch when his girlfriend looks up at him rather suddenly from her perch on the loveseat adjacent to him.

He quirks an eyebrow at her curiously, "What's up baby?"

"How tall are you?" She asks unprompted and Eren frowns, why is she asking about his height?

"6 feet, why?"

"Oh," she frowns, her voice taking on a disappointed lilt and he's immediately offended. His height isn't something he's insecure about, but it's a touchy subject for most men, especially when he considers how tall Jean and Reiner are, even Armin has been sprouting up lately.

Eren is uncomfortably aware that he's average height and although he knows there's nothing wrong with that, that he's a good height and size, his girlfriend asking about it has his hackles up.

He's defensive, he knows it, his response quick, perhaps a bit too harsh as he furrows his brows, trying to figure out why she's asking, she's never had a problem with it before.

"Why??"

"Well," Mikasa hums, biting her lip as she mulls over what she wants to say and he grows more impatient. Is she unhappy with his height?? Is he too short for her? What the fuck?

"Why?" He asks her a bit more forcefully now and she sighs, shaking her head, "Don’t worry about it." "Mikasa," Eren scolds, and she groans, turning over into the couch to hide her face.

"Mika," he says insistently and she gives him an unimpressed look from where she's hiding in her pillows now, but he can't let it go.

"Stand up," she directs and he gawks at her, what?? Now she needs to study him?? "Why?" She huffs as she sits up, hugging her pillow to her chest, "Just do it Yeager."

He looks her over suspiciously for a moment before giving in, swallowing his pride and standing up in front of her. He just hopes to god she doesn't emasculate him for being short or something. He doubts it, but sometimes Ymir goes on her man-hating streaks and for days after Mikasa is cursing every man alive.

She looks him over for a moment, eyes twinkling silver with lustful amusement, a seductive little smirk on her lips as she takes in her boyfriend.

"MIkasa," Eren complains as she takes her sweet time looking him up and down, making him feel unbelievably insecure under her intense gaze.

She giggles before standing up to put him out of his misery.

She comes closer, trailing a hand over his chest, down, down, down to play with the buckle of his belt, giving it a teasing little yank and fuck his dick is already perking up at just her little tease.

She stands in front of him for a moment longer, licking her lips and looking him over before rather abruptly dropping to her knees in front of him.

She looks up at him, absolutely stunning, full red lips pulled into a seductive pout as she leans her cheek against his waist, looking up at him so lovingly.

"Baby what?" He struggles out, confused at her very abrupt change in pace, what is she doing?

Her hand teases at the zipper of his jeans as her other one works at the buckle of his belt, deft fingers slipping it undone and he groans as she brushes against his hard length.

She looks up at him again, away from her task, plump lower lip bitten between her teeth and looking so utterly fuckable, those big eyes just begging for him, so devoted to him, how could he have worried about his height at all.

She frowns up at him, "I'm not perfect."

He’s hardening rapidly in his pants as she fingers at the zipper of his jeans, having successfully undone his belt and he struggles to find words, to process her sentence.

"What?"

She sits back on her haunches looking up at him all pouty, a little brat, lowering her cheek to lay against his thigh, kissing at his length through his jeans, "I'm not perfect." "Baby, what," he inhales sharply as she sucks at him through the fabric before her teeth toy with the zipper, tugging it down just slightly.

Deft fingers work at the button to her prize, her answer whiny, "I'm not perfect for you 'Ren," she kisses at his bulge lovingly, looking up at him big eyes all sad “I’m not at optimal dick sucking height, I’m not perfect for you." Fuck.

His hand cups her cheek, rough big hands rubbing at her full pouty lips, and she sucks at his thumb willingly, she's so fucking good for him, even when she's being a brat.

She releases him with a pop, nuzzling at the bulge of his dick and he bites back a groan, "I'd be better off with someone taller, I'm not perfect for you, makes me upset."

His hand slips to cup her neck possessively, keeping her right where he wants her as she nuzzles against his thick length, mouthing at his cock and fuck he's harder than he's ever been in his life.

His other hand comes down to finish unbuttoning his jeans, allowing her to tug them down excitedly, his cock throbbing against the fabric of his boxers, standing straight up and bouncing against her cheek as he releases himself.

"Trust me Mika," he whispers as he frees himself, stroking lazily as she looks on in wonder, "you’re fucking perfect, you’re perfect for me." She nods in acceptance, eager to be praised as he tugs her forward slightly, stroking his other hand through her hair lovingly, "Now are you going to keep being a tease or are you going to blow me?"

#lys's idiocy #lys's drabbles

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diavolosthots · 4 years ago

Note

Hey dear! I hope that you have a good time! I want to make a request, but please delete it if you don't feel like doing it.

I saved that request in the notes and been waiting for you to open them 😊

For request

First fight with brother (any of your choice) and one of them (I mean MC or that brother) thinks that it's end of relationship (because never had anything serious), but they reconciled in the end. I want some heavy angst with happy ending. MC can be GN if that is OK.

If you don't mind you can do for Mammon, but feel free to choose another one if you don't feel like write for him. Or if that would be better to write as headcanons for all the brothers. That's up to you!

I haven't been doing requests for ages. Please don't hate me if there is something wrong! I've read the rules, and I hope I haven't missed anything.

Anyway, sorry for long ask. And thank you for your writings!

(I forgot to look if you did anything similar, and remembered it at the end of writing that ask. Sorry if you already did something like that!)

Hey babes ❤ I did end up doing HCs for all of them because I thought it would be cooler (or more like I know someone is gonna request separate fics for all of them if I dont and I'm saving myself that trouble lol) I still hope you like it ! ❤ also this got SUPER LONG so its under a cut

Warning: angst -> happy ending-ish

THE BROTHERS in a fight with MC and thinking that they’re over (yikes)

Lucifer:

Everyone always says Lucifer is quick to lose his cool but he’s honestly been nothing but patient with you. He may have hinted at several things he doesn’t condone and he definitely has that ‘look’, you know the disappointed dad look, but he has held back a lot so as to not ruin the beautiful relationship you have with him. Everyone snaps, though, and when he finally did, it was ugly. He did NOT call you names, but oh he didn’t. He went straight for your feelings and pointed out every mistake you ever made for as long as he’s known you. Ouch. In his defense, you weren’t nice either. The argument ended nasty and ‘I hate you’s!’ were definitely thrown around, but none of them were meant, right? Goodness, he doesn’t know. After you left, he threw himself on his bed, literally, and just stared at the ceiling. His anger slowly fled away and he began to feel… guilty. Not necessarily because of the argument itself, but because he delivered some low blows and he knows that. Are you over? Done with him? You haven’t texted or called or talked… you’ve been actively avoiding him and he doesn’t like that, but his pride is such an issue, goodness. He can’t straight up apologize, that dickhead, but he’s sending you flowers and standing in front of your door with a sad face that says it all.

“Forgive me? I made reservations at your favorite’s? We can talk over a nice dinner?”

Mammon:

Mammon is known to get mildly agitated over the silliest things, let’s be real. He’s also quick to revert to the “are you dumb?!” argument, which is never effective. But he loves you and he would do anything for you so even if you do do something that he deems ‘dumb’, he usually bites his tongue. Doesn’t mean that doesn’t get on his nerves, though, and he definitely has a short temper, although people tend to overlook that. You just managed to push his buttons today and he used the “are ya stupid?!” argument, to which you obviously defended yourself, and rightfully so. This ended in a massive screaming match and him saying “Then leave! Ain’t nobody keepin’ ya with me!” He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth and you could see his eyes grow wide in shock at his own words, but that didn’t mean you stayed. “MC!” he tried running after you immediately but you were faster and honestly, who can blame you? He fucked up, and he knows it, and he feels terrible about it. Honestly, he’s crying just at the mere thought of you taking his words seriously and he can’t… he can’t bear to lose you, you know? What’s he gonna do? You’re the light of his life, as pathetic as that may sound to some…. So he won’t let you run away. Homie will hunt you down and beg for forgiveness.

“Please, MC! Forgive me! I’m dumb, not you!!! Don’t leave me…” Don’t leave him. He will continue crying.

Leviathan:

His constant need to put himself down is frankly, quite annoying. To you anyway. But you put up with it and just reassure him that, at least to you, he’s the most amazing demon that ever existed. It’s just facts. But a person only has so much patience, right? You can’t always spend your days trying to lift him up when all he does is dig himself a bigger hole. Who has the emotional time for that? You sure don’t. “Oh my God, Levi! Shut up! I can’t take it anymore!” Followed by “See! You’re just like everyone else! Leaving me!” and then you slamming the door to his room shut. It’s frustrating and understandably so. It makes you feel awful that you can’t even make your own boyfriend feel good about himself and get at least a little bit of self confidence and it’s so, so, so very draining to have to constantly listen to that. At this point, it’s affecting your own mental health and you just… you just can’t…. But Levi can’t lose you because he knows you’re right. He has to work on himself if he wants to keep someone as amazing as you with him and that’s why he’s crawling back to you now.

“Look I… I know you’re right… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll … I’ll try. For you.”

Satan:

For being the Avatar of Wrath, you always admired Satan for his ability to keep cool. He prefers the relaxed and easy going life much more than the type of life people expect him to live, and you respect that. That doesn’t mean his constant need to one up Lucifer, through whatever means necessary, didn’t bother the hell out of you, though. You tried talking to him about it once or twice in a calm manner, but you always got the same answer “Pfft.. it’s Lucifer. Who cares?” And it never sat right with you. Just today he decided to pull a prank on the eldest and you had enough, standing in front of Lucifer and letting the bucket of cursed green slime land on you instead, to everyone’s shock. “What are you doing?!” Now that you’re thoroughly green from head to toe, you were also beyond pissed. “What am I doing?! What are YOU doing?!” But Satan matched your anger tenfold, accusing you of favoring Lucifer over him and oh! “You probably got an affair with him, too!” Which was a stupid thing on his part, but it looked like it the way you defended him. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion you felt running through you and had it not been for Lucifer, you probably would’ve physically fought Satan for such a dumb accusation. Lucifer took you to get cleaned up and lifted the course, giving you your natural skin and hair color back within a few days and plenty of scrubbing, and Satan felt like shit. You’ve always been there for him and, rationally speaking, he didn’t have a reason to doubt your loyalty to him, but he just can’t help but feel insecure beside Lucifer…. He decides to come apologize anyway, a deep blush on his face and guilt in his eyes

“I’m… sorry for accusing you. It wasn’t my right to speak out of anger and jealousy…”

Asmodeus:

How can anyone fight with the Avatar of Lust? Seriously, the guy is super easy going and he loves pretty much everyone. Not as much as himself, but almost. You on the other hand… you didn’t. Well you didn’t NOT love him or yourself, but you were just… you. You didn’t spend 4+ hours in the bathroom trying to get ready when you knew you were only going to the kitchen down the stairs. Like?? Although you never brought it up to Asmodeus, he constantly bothered you about skincare and what foods to eat and what not to eat, etc… It’s quite annoying, honestly, and at some point you just gave him a passive aggressive “Okay, whatever. Can we move on now?” To which he didn’t take lightly. He was still nice and sweet, trying to convince you that at least one of these things will make your skin glow brighter than a unicorn’s ass but you just had enough. “Can you stop?! You’re indirectly saying I’m ugly without that shit ton of product in my face and a diet that would make me starve before it helped me! If you want a skinny VS angel that barely holds onto their skeleton, get one!” It was more hurt and frustration speaking than anything, but your outburst still shocked him and he was taken aback for a moment. And then you ignored him for a week straight and as someone who thrives off of attention, especially the kind he gets from you, he can’t handle that! So he showed up in your room in sweats and a tshirt and messy hair and no product on his skin.

“You’re right… we’re all naturally beautiful…. Wow that… that really hurts to say MC but can you forgive me?”

Beelzebub:

Oh the sweet, sweet angel. He’s far from innocent and you know that. We all know that. But for this story, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. His reliance on Belphegor is just really… annoying. Belphegor this, Belphegor that. “Belphie used to…” or “Belphie said….” or “one day when Belphie and I….” Like why does everything have to include his twin? It’s so annoying and so rude when your significant other is right here !!! and planning their own future with you, Beel, thanks. It makes you feel less than and like Belphegor will always come before you. It makes you feel like shit, quite frankly, and who is to blame you? “Hey MC did I tell you what Belphie---!” “No! Shut up! I don’t care! It’s always about Belphie! The day you come to me and don’t let that name drip from your tongue is the day Jesus comes back to save me and we both know that will be never! I’m tired of always being stuck with Belphegor! We are not equals!” Granted, you shouldn’t have yelled and Beel was more than confused at your outburst, but you wouldn’t talk to him anymore after that so he left you alone. He thought you may need an hour or two, maybe a day tops, but that day turned into a full week and he even lost his appetite just because he knows you’re angry with him. It’s been a week, does that mean you’re over? His heart aches just at the thought…

“I’m sorry for bringing Belphie up… I don’t want you to feel less than, MC. You mean a lot to me and so does Belphie, but you’re not Belphie and I need to learn that…”

Belphegor:

Honestly it’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his temper at you yet. Well, he partially blames it on his own laziness because if being angry or getting upset didn’t take so much energy out of him, maybe he would’ve snapped by now lol, but he tries really hard not to because he thinks your relationship with him after everything is pretty good, considering yall kiss and snuggle and fuck on a regular basis. But anyway, that’s exactly the issue. Considering everything, you’re still holding *that* against him. It’s never direct either, which makes it worse. It’s always said in a joking manner and something like “haha look it’s just like that one time you killed me” or “Beel’s grabbing that ham like you grabbed my throat” or “I remember seeing jesus for a moment there” and it agitates him. It makes him so angry, and he finally snapped. “I know I fucked up MC! Stop holding it against me! What do you want? A medal of honor? A survivor's certificate? Maybe a pat on the back for developing some sort of Stockholm syndrome that made you come back to your abuser?!” And then he left. And you may have cried both from confusion and your own anger, he isn’t quite sure. It’s just so…. Aggravating. He can’t deal with it. He knows it was a mistake spurted by his own insecurities and survivor’s guilt which ultimately led to his hatred but please, stop holding it against him.. He can’t keep putting up with it from the person he’s grown to love. He’s the one ignoring you and he won’t budge either because he’s a stubborn ass, but maybe if you come up first…

“I’m sorry for yelling at you… I’m just so tired for it being held against me… I love you, and you should know that, and I do feel guilty about what happened.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt 1) NMJ is the son of the concubine, NHS is the son of the legal wife, who had difficulty conceiving because of an old night hunting injury, and picked out a concubine for her husband who was big and strong and healthy as on ox - the strength got passed on, her more even temperament didn't. The legal wife conceived later, with much difficulty and they weren't entirely sure NHS would live at first

ao3

“Are you well?” Nie Mingjue asked Jin Guangyao, his voice stiff, and Jin Guangyao looked at him sidelong, surprised by the question, as well as the fact that Nie Mingjue was talking to him at all.

Normally, he would assume that Nie Mingjue was doing it because Lan Xichen was encouraging him to get along with Jin Guangyao again, but Lan Xichen was in the Cloud Recesses, had been in the Cloud Recesses for quite some time. Officially, he was helping oversee the rebuilding; unofficially he was caring for his brother, who had officially entered seclusion and unofficially was healing from a punishment so grievously terrible that Jin Guangyao was reminded all over again why one could not trust the righteous facades of the wealthy and powerful Great Sects.

Not that he needed much reminding, here in Jinlin Tower…

At any rate, Lan Xichen couldn’t be the reason Nie Mingjue was asking Jin Guangyao about his well-being, and that meant that his stern, grim-faced oldest sworn brother was doing it on his own, for reasons of his own.

Naturally, Jin Guangyao mistrusted that even more.

“Of course, da-ge,” he said with a practiced smile. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, somehow, impossibly, even stiffer than before. “No, I just – I meant – with Jin Zixuan’s death. It must have made it – hard. Here. For you.”

That was a staggeringly perceptive insight, and the fact that it came from Nie Mingjue, who thought ignoring rumors until they went away was a valid strategy, was something of an uncomfortable surprise. Even Lan Xichen hadn’t really thought of Jin Guangyao in the aftermath of Jin Zixuan’s death and the ensuing calamity, with the Nightless City and Wei Wuxian’s final downfall and everything with Lan Wangji taking away his attention; at best, he’d penned a careless letter belatedly expressing that he was sad that Jin Guangyao hadn’t had more of an opportunity to get to know Jin Zixuan better before his untimely demise.

Not even Su She had said anything, taking Jin Zixuan’s death as an unmitigated good – an obstacle out of their way, and nothing more. Easy enough for him to think as sect leader of his own sect, however small.

Not so easy for Jin Guangyao.

Not so easy when Madame Jin’s dislike of him had turned to full-blown maddened hatred, when his father looked at him like filth on his shoe, when they wouldn’t let him anywhere near Jin Ling as if his mere touch were some sort of toxic poison…

“…thank you,” he said cautiously. “I’ve been doing fine.”

Nie Mingjue jerked his head in a nod. “Avoid the sect elders for a time,” he said, and when Jin Guangyao looked at him, he was staring straight ahead, not looking at him at all. “Be careful with what you eat and drink. Some people don’t like to take chances.”

Was Nie Mingjue – Nie Mingjue – warning him about a possible assassination attempt? The man who had barely consented to using spies during wartime, who thought politics could be conducted through above-board dealings, who thought bribery and blackmail were unacceptable crimes? Him?

The world had truly turned upside down.

“I’ll be careful,” Jin Guangyao said, and found to his embarrassment that his tone had unconsciously softened, revealing the sudden fondness he was feeling for no good reason. He could rationalize it as a deliberate move, because allowing Nie Mingjue to do him a favor and sounding touched about it was a good way to get closer to him, to get back through those iron defenses of his. The problem was that it wasn’t a stratagem, not really, and that was dangerous.

Nie Mingjue nodded again, and Jin Guangyao expected him to move on – he and Nie Mingjue might be sworn brothers, but they didn’t chat – but he didn’t. He lingered, instead, clearly wanting to say something, something he was chewing over and not quite able to spit out.

Unusual, for someone who normally prided himself on being straightforward and direct.

“Is there something else?” Jin Guangyao eventually asked when Nie Mingjue didn’t seem to be actually making any progress towards saying anything.

Nie Mingjue grimaced and took a step – off to the side, to a corner of the path that was a little more secluded than most. Interestingly, he didn’t make the amateur mistake of going for one of the obviously secluded alcoves, which of course had all sorts of hiding-holes for eavesdroppers, but rather ended up in one of the few areas where the architecture created a natural dead space for sound.

Intrigued, Jin Guangyao followed him there.

Once they were there, Nie Mingjue still looked awkward – he was still refusing to look directly at Jin Guangyao, as if they wouldn’t be talking in hushed tones in a secluded corner if he didn’t admit that that was what they were doing – but finally said, “Would it help or hurt if I said anything?”

Jin Guangyao frowned a little, not following. “Said anything?”

“About the inheritance,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangyao’s eyes widened. “You’re the only recognized son left; you ought to be named heir until Jin Ling is full grown. But that doesn’t mean people will let that happen so easily.”

Jin Guangyao would have been less surprised if Wen Ruohan had spontaneously resurrected himself from the dead and performed a brothel fan dance on the front lawn of Jinlin Tower.

It had not even remotely entered his calculations that Nie Mingjue would be anything but an obstacle to his ambitions for power over the Lanling Jin sect – at best, he had hoped only that Nie Mingjue would be convinced that Jin Zixuan’s death was wholly Wei Wuxian’s fault and not find some way to blame Jin Guangyao for it, and that he wouldn’t immediately suspect that Jin Guangyao of scheming to kill Jin Ling and take the whole thing for himself.

He’d never dreamed that Nie Mingjue might think that he deserved it.

“I’ll support you, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, as if it were obvious, when it was the least obvious thing that had ever happened in Jin Guangyao’s life. “But I’m not actually any good at this sort of thing, you know – playing politics with the internal affairs of other sects. I don’t want to make things worse for you just because I don’t know what the right approach is, especially not here.”

Jin Guangyao stared at him.

Nie Mingjue, not hearing a response, glanced at him and scowled. Lowering his voice still more, he said, “Think on it carefully. Sect Leader Jin hates me personally, but my Nie sect isn’t nothing, not even in Lanling. It’s still more so after the war, after all those battles I won to save the Jin sect’s rotten – that is, after everything I did to help. Even if your father doesn’t like it, he still has to give my sect face, and his sect elders know it. You’re a war hero, and my sworn brother; if a public stand on my part would help make things easier for you…”

“I’ll think on it carefully,” Jin Guangyao assured him, his mind already racing over the possibilities. Nie Mingjue underestimated himself – he wasn’t just a war hero, he was the war hero, the righteous and unyielding war god that had won an impossible war for the rest of them. He was Jin Guangshan’s chief rival for the position of Chief Cultivator and he wasn’t even trying to get the position; he probably wanted nothing more than to go home to Qinghe and sleep for three months and yet practically every single sect leader that Jin Guangshan felt out on the subject invariably dropped his name as the possible alternative. Assuming he was serious, and Nie Mingjue was always serious, his public support would make it extremely tricky for Jin Guangshan to refuse to name Jin Guangyao as the official heir, even if he tried to claim that this was a private matter. The rest of the sect would force him to do it, even against his will.

Moreover, Lan Xichen would follow Nie Mingjue’s lead, or at least could be easily encouraged into doing so. He was so distracted with his brother, if Jin Guangyao went to him and pointed out that Nie Mingjue thought it was a good idea to stand behind him…no, he wouldn’t even need to do that. Everyone knew how much better his relationship with Lan Xichen was in comparison to Nie Mingjue; if Nie Mingjue stood behind him, everyone would assume that Lan Xichen did as well, and then he would have two of the remaining Great Sects backing his right to inherit – even if only in the interim – the seat of power for Lanling Jin, as the only recognized son…

Except, of course, Jin Guangshan had already accounted for that.

Jin Guangyao’s eyes flickered. Perhaps there was a way to test Nie Mingjue’s sincerity.

“There is one issue,” he said, and Nie Mingjue turned his head to look at him directly. “My father has – decided to bring home another son.”

Nie Mingjue stared at him. “Another son?”

“From a minor noble family of commoners –”

“He brought one home now?” Nie Mingjue said, and he sounded angry. He always sounded angry, but this time he sounded angry on Jin Guangyao’s behalf, something he hadn’t been since Langya, since Qinghe, and it thrilled Jin Guangyao’s heart to hear it. He’d always secretly enjoyed having someone as physically and politically strong as Nie Mingjue in his corner, the power of it going to his head; it was even more so now, when he was finally in a position where he could really use it. “That’s a deliberate insult to you, and for what? Some untried boy…”

One who isn’t the son of a prostitute, Jin Guangyao thought, but of course Nie Mingjue wouldn’t think about it that way. He never had, not from the beginning.

“Father is of course within his rights to bring home whoever he wishes, for the best interest of the sect,” he said diplomatically, and Nie Mingjue huffed and rolled his eyes. “Da-ge…”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Nie Mingjue said curtly. “Think on it, and tell me what you want me to do.”

With that he turned away and strode off towards the main hall, a scowl firmly on his face.

Jin Guangyao watched him go, pleased – Nie Mingjue was really too easy to manipulate, if you knew him well enough. He’d keep quiet during the opening ceremony of the conference, but if he was really sincere about standing up for Jin Guangyao’s right to inherit, there would be no way he’d be able to refrain from expressing his views to Jin Guangshan at some point later that evening.

Sure enough, Nie Mingjue seethed throughout most of the complex and beautiful ceremony Jin Guangyao had arranged to show off Lanling Jin’s wealth and strength and taste – all wasted on him, naturally, so Jin Guangyao didn’t take any offense – and through dinner as well, and afterwards found a reason to make his way over to Jin Guangshan. After a few words, they both retreated to one of the receiving rooms.

Jin Guangyao made his excuses very shortly thereafter and slipped away: the receiving rooms, at least, were not dead spaces, and he knew all the ways to listen in there.

By the time he arrived, they were already arguing.

“ – what business of yours?” Jin Guangshan was snarling. “These are my private family matters!”

“He is my sworn brother,” Nie Mingjue said in return, his voice stiff as always. It was interesting to Jin Guangyao that he still didn’t seem happy about admitting that fact; he was still resentful of Jin Guangyao, still suspicious, and yet he supported him regardless, just because he thought it was his right. Ah, the foolishness of good people! “When you refuse to give him face, that becomes my business.”

Jin Guangshan spat, audibly. Jin Guangyao, still carefully moving into a position where he could see as well as hear, hoped he’d aimed it at the floor and not at Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Jin Guangshan said. “I suppose I really shouldn’t be so surprised to find you supporting him, should I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nie Mingjue demanded, and Jin Guangyao wondered the same.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Jin Guangshan said. Jin Guangyao had never heard his father sound so cruel – and he had quite a bit to compare it to. “They do say like calls to like, don’t they?”

Jin Guangyao had just finally gotten into view position, which meant he was just in time to see all the blood drain out of Nie Mingjue’s face as if he’d just been stabbed.

“You may have won some merit,” Jin Guangshan said, and he was smirking now. “But they do say blood always tells – or did you think that people would forget that it’s your brother that’s the true-born son, and you merely a concubine’s get?”

He was what?

Nie Mingjue was –

It was impossible. Surely, it was impossible.

And yet Nie Mingjue was not denying Jin Guangshan’s words, was not getting angry at the slander, was standing there stiff-backed and grim-faced –

“I still remember how disappointed your father was when his beautiful, beloved, delicate wife couldn’t get a pregnancy to last the term,” Jin Guangshan said, picking up one of the jars of wine and taking a swig. “He didn’t want to take a concubine at all, thought it’d be disrespectful to his wife, but what could he do? He was the sole heir, with an obligation to continue his lineage…they bought your mother for the breeding, like bringing in a cow for the farmyard bull.”

He laughed.

Nie Mingjue said nothing.

“Healthy, I think he said about her. Healthy and big, good hips for bearing children, good tits to nurse them – that was all he cared about, squeezing a few sons out of her, and she didn’t even manage that. Ran away after the first one, didn’t she? You ever figure out where she went, whether she ended up married to some dumb farmer as illiterate as her, or else lying on her back in a brothel? Dead in a beggar’s grave somewhere, perhaps?”

Nie Mingjue said nothing.

“No, it’s no surprise: of course you’d back the little son of a whore for the position of rightful heir, as if letting him take it would help cover up for the way you stole your own brother’s –”

“Watch your words,” Nie Mingjue said, his heavy voice slicing through the air like a saber.

“Still pretending it wasn’t theft, then?” Jin Guangshan laughed again, pacing the room back and forth, prowling like some sort of beast. “You were supposed to step down when he was ready – you had to swear never to have children, never to marry, all so you could warm the sect leader seat until he was grown up and ready to take it himself. But a weakling wastrel like that, he’s never going to be ready, is he? Very clever of you. I bet your sect elders hadn’t thought of you getting around it like that.”

“You dare –”

“Oh, I dare! And I’d dare more, if you think you can push me around!” Jin Guangshan bared his teeth. “Let me tell you now, Sect Leader Nie, if you dare make a public statement of support for Guangyao, I’ll remind the whole world that you’re no better than him, that you ought to be one of the Nie sect’s servants, not its sect leader –”

“Go ahead.”

Jin Guangshan stopped.

“Go ahead,” Nie Mingjue said again, stepping forward, and Jin Guangyao had never actually seen him purposefully use his height against someone, wield it like a weapon to remind the other party which of them was the more terrifying. “I’ve already had half a dozen public arguments with Huaisang about the fact that he needs to take the role of Sect Leader; everyone in my sect knows that he’s the one who keeps refusing. Do you really think everyone is like you? Scrabbling for every scrap of power you can get, like a rat in the rubbish bin?”

Jin Guangshan took an involuntary step backwards as Nie Mingjue continued to advance.

“When there are those who speak against you, you must do so well that they have no choice but to shut their mouths,” Nie Mingjue said, and it was the very same words he had spoken in encouragement to Jin Guangyao, all those years ago when they had first met. At the time, and thereafter, Jin Guangyao had thought him naïve, of not knowing of which he spoke. “Tell me, Sect Leader Jin, if you go out and spew your poison to your sycophants, do you really think any but the most loyal and brainless will open their mouths to condemn me now? Now, when I’ve just won the cultivation world a war, when I saved Lanling Jin a dozen times or more? Do you really think people will remember my mother instead of my saber?”

“You’d be amazed what people remember,” Jin Guangshan said, even if his voice was weaker, more desperate than it had been before. Less mighty and more pathetic than before, as if Jin Guangyao were suddenly seeing him in a brand new light: seeing him as what he was, as a man who would never looked beyond a person’s birth, no matter what their merits. “In the end, public arguments or not, you were the one who raised Nie Huaisang, now a good-for-nothing, a waste, and you sit in his throne, managing his Nie sect. People will remember that! Your sect will still lose face, be dishonored!”

“Fine. Then I’ll just kill you,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangshan gaped at him. “Why not? You’re right. To protect my brother’s birthright, I vowed never to have children, never to marry; the only ambitions in my life were to allow Huaisang to live well as he grew older and to avenge my father, and I’ve accomplished both. Even if they execute me for your murder, what’s it to me? What will I have lost?”

Jin Guangshan’s mouth moved open and closed, mute in his shock, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him.

Nie Mingjue’s lips twisted into a sneer of his own.

“For once in your life, Sect Leader Jin, just do the right thing,” he said, sounding tired, and Jin Guangyao felt something loosen inside of him that had gone inexplicably frozen and pained at the idea of Nie Mingjue breaking all those morals and principles he always seemed to hold so dear.

It was strange. Not a day earlier, Jin Guangyao would have sworn that he would’ve liked nothing more than to see Nie Mingjue pushed too far, forced down into the muck and mud that the rest of them trudged their way through, and now that he saw a hint of it, he’d never wanted anything less.

“Name Meng Yao your heir until Jin Ling is grown,” Nie Mingjue continued. “Reap the benefits of the alliance he brings with him and have us all honor you as an elder, if that’s what you want. But playing games like this…I’d say it’s beneath you, but I’d need a shovel to get that deep. So don’t think about it. Just do it. Or I’ll make you.”

He left, Jin Guangshan still gaping after him. It wasn’t long before he finally started moving, throwing around expensive teacups and furnishings and shouting for servants to bring him a drink and a whore, even though it was early; Jin Guangyao returned to the party, knowing there would be nothing more for him to learn, not when his father was in a mood like that.

Later that night, when the party was over and all cleaned up, he went to the quarters assigned for their guests from the Nie sect and was unsurprised to see a light still lit within the one assigned to the sect leader.

He knocked, and a familiar voice beckoned him to enter.

Nie Mingjue was dressed in a sleeping robe, but he was at his desk, writing a letter; he’d clearly been unable to sleep. He looked up when Jin Guangyao entered.

“What?” he asked, short and sharp and rude as always.

These days, Jin Guangyao usually planned out his encounters with Nie Mingjue in advance, hoping to minimize awkwardness and achieve his goals without too much of a scolding. He’d done that at the very beginning of knowing him, only to rapidly give up during his time at Qinghe – Nie Mingjue was both predictable and yet somehow an utter mystery, and it was easier to just go with the flow, adapt to the circumstances, than it was to plan in advance. Only after he’d left did he start planning once again.

He wasn’t planning now.

“Your mother,” he said, and Nie Mingjue barked a laugh, reaching up with a hand to rub at his eyes.

“Did your father tell you?” he asked. “Or did you just listen in?”

Jin Guangyao shrugged, and Nie Mingjue for once did not seem inclined to demand an answer.

“Is it true?” he asked instead, even though he already knew. “That she was…”

Like mine.

Not exactly like, of course. Jin Guangshan wouldn’t have hesitated to call Nie Mingjue the son of a whore directly if he thought he could get away with claiming it was merely fact, and had managed to imply as much nonetheless. Jin Guangyao’s mother’s shame could never be washed away, not in his lifetime; Nie Mingjue’s birth, being merely low, was not the same.

And yet.

“Oh, it’s true,” Nie Mingjue said mirthlessly. “Right down to the fact that they all but bought her based on how fertile she looked, for all that my father later pretended it wasn’t that, and the fact that she ran away.”

Jin Guangyao blinked. If he was playacting, he might have bitten his lip, averted his eyes, and he still considered doing it, but for the moment he was still feeling too off-balance to really commit to it. “Is she – still alive?”

Nie Mingjue shrugged.

“Have you looked for her?”

“I’ve been sect leader for over a decade,” he said, which wasn’t a denial. “If she wanted to find me, she knows where I am.”

That was a good point, Jin Guangyao supposed.

“Was it hard?” he asked, and Nie Mingjue frowned, clearly not understanding the question. “For you, when it was you. Was it hard to convince them to let you inherit?”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes slid half-shut in pained memory. “Yes.”

Jin Guangyao nodded, and went to sit down next to Nie Mingjue, who allowed it, returning to his work. He didn’t say anything.

It was rather atypical for Jin Guangyao – he was always thinking of something to say, when it came to Nie Mingjue, trying to bridge the gap between them with clever words. Perhaps it was only that the gap had shrunk, or had never been as large as he had thought.

After a while, Nie Mingjue said, “You know I wish you were better than you are,” and Jin Guangyao looked at him sidelong. “But in the end, you’re my brother. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said, and there was that uncalled-for fondness again. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

#mdzs #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #jin guangshan #my fic #my fics #alternative backstory #dead spaces #jessaramine

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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

Text

⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year.

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car.

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot.

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably.

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am.

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out.

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason.

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger.

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–”

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.”

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.”

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car.

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.

“What happened?” You asked hotly.

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it.

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.”

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you.

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.”

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again.

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...”

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age.

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you!

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.”

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken.

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.”

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury.

“No?”

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.”

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money.

“But I did this.”

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom.

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat.

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…”

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time.

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements –

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you.

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?”

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous.

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.”

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.”

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…”

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…”

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today.

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised.

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment.

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.”

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.”

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?”

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?”

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell?

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.”

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too. Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.”

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.”

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…”

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people.

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…”

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.”

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here?

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.”

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?”

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.”

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody.

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.”

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?”

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.”

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.”

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?”

“Not too far, Miss.”

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.”

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be.

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house.

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.”

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.”

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week.

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible.

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by.

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater.

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet…

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September.

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father.

“Oh, hello again.”

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden?

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk.

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.”

“What?”

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?”

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe.

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.”

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it.

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then.

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened.

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say.

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve.

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope.

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug.

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?”

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now.

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.”

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.”

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you.

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too.

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course.

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny.

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.”

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in.

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.”

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!”

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.”

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.”

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical.

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too.

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover…

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself.

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask.

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you.

“I really am sorry about that.”

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?”

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…”

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious.

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.”

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.”

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him?

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly.

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again.

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.”

“Kid?”

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured.

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised.

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.”

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.”

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know.

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled.

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically.

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew.

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested.

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.”

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark…

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it.

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.”

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.”

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.”

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.”

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise.

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.”

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.”

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you.

“You were definitely flirting back.”

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.”

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing.

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?”

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully.

“Find out tomorrow.”

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.”

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.”

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.”

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!”

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now?

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months.

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant.

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it.

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?!

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you.

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…”

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near.

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed.

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point.

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.”

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave?

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside.

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here…

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home.

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like.

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out.

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.”

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever.

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name.

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave.

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted.

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.”

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?”

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?”

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.”

Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.”

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower. You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say.

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head.

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he?

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.”

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.”

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone.

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.”

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that?

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you.

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?”

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.”

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant.

“No.” So was he.

“Mr. Kim.”

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face.

“Tell me!”

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you.

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.”

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?”

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?”

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?”

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.”

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money.

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.)

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.”

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.”

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.”

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.”

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded.

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too.

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine.

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?”

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude.

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay?

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself.

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible.

What the hell was wrong with you?!

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin smut #bts smut #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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waka-chan-out · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Congratulations ^^ could you do oikawa + prompt 12? Maybe the reader is a dumbass, hates him, or is just pretending, idk, thank you!

300 Follower Event

Oikawa Tooru

Prompt 12: “Fine! I’ll say it.”

this fic was part of my 300 follower event. check out the rest of the submissions here.

timeskip college au.

word count: 2.4k

content warning: i—this is basically enemies to lovers without all the extra steps. oikawa is a brat. i am in love with him. let’s all have a good time. otherwise, the only warnings are someone walking in and technically unprotected sex. we can ignore that for the sake of the fantasy.

thank you so much! i liked your thinking with this one. it was very fun to write.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked. Oikawa frowned.

“Like what?”

“Like I have something on my face. If you have something to say, just say it.”

“I don’t!”

“Then stop staring.”

“Fine.” He looked down at his notebook. Then he huffed and laid his chin on his hand. You groaned.

“What?” you snapped.

“What do you mean?” He held up his hands defensively.

“You’re acting all pouty.”

“I am not!”

You set your jaw and glared at him. He was infuriating. He was also smart, which made it even more frustrating that you were assigned to work together — he seemed like he was good at nearly everything he tried.

He was also handsome. So handsome it made you want to slap him. No wonder his friend from home was knocking him around all the time. It was hard to stare that that pretty face for too long before you wanted to punch it.

“Now who’s staring?” he said, sly smile creeping onto his face. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your notebook, scribbling what was probably nonsense in your notes.

“It’s not so terrible for you to admit you’re attracted to me.”

You stared at him in disgust.

“What are you talking about?”

“I meant exactly what I said. You don’t need to get so defensive.”

“I’m not defensive.” You laughed incredulously, but you had to admit -- you totally sounded defensive. “You’re just wrong.”

“Ah, I see. We’re playing that game.”

You tried to return to your work, but he was staring holes into the side of your head, face tipped over into his palm, spinning a pen in his free hand. Without looking up, you pushed your notes over to him.

“So I was thinking you could present this part. Then I can talk through --”

“You’re very pretty, you know that?” he asked. You stopped talking for a moment, pointedly not looking up at him.

“I can talk through this idea and then we can take turns after that.”

He leaned in. “You’re also very stubborn. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yes. They have. Can we work please?” You turned to glare at him but stopped midway through the motion. He was incredibly close, too close, a smug smirk plastered on his infuriatingly perfect face. You gritted your teeth.

“We can work. Do you want to work?”

Your face felt hot.

“Yes.”

He tipped back and crossed his arms.

“Okay. What am I doing again?”

“Were you not paying attention?”

“No.” His eyes fell to your lips. “I wasn’t.”

You took a shaky deep breath and turned back to your notes.

“Um. The presentation. You can . . . wait.” You paged through your notes. “I lost it. Hold on.”

“You seem flustered.”

“I’m not -- you know what?” You pushed your books away. “I give up. What is your deal today?”

He licked his lips and scanned your face, weighing his options. Then he dramatically held up his arms like he was surrendering.

“Fine, I’ll say it.” He leaned onto the table, closer to you than would have made you feel comfortable. “I find you extremely attractive.”

“Subtlety isn’t your thing, is it?”

He rubbed a hand over his face.

“Let me rephrase.” He sighed. “I like you. Very much.”

You stared at him.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

He tipped his head to the side and grinned.

“Well, I can think of any number of things.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yes.”

You scanned his face. He was completely serious. Even with an eyebrow arched and small smile on his face, he wasn’t joking in the least. You sighed.

“Fine.”

His eyes flew open.

“What?”

“I said fine.”

A disbelieving smile played at his lips.

“Fine, what?”

“If I do something about it --” You looked away, unable to continue while looking at that smug face. “Will you finally shut up?”

He grinned, still looking unsure.

“Are you serious?”

You smacked his arm.

“Yes, I’m serious. If you keep acting like that I’m gonna send you home.”

“I’ll be good.” He crossed his heart. “Promise.”

You stood and nudged at his chair.

“Then scooch.”

He raised his eyebrows, that cheeky smile still plastered on his face. God, you wanted to knock that right off. He pushed back from the table and you threw a leg over him so you were straddling his lap.

“My, I was hoping you’d say yes but I didn’t think you’d be this eager.”

You grabbed a fistful of his soft, impeccably styled hair and yanked it back. He let out a small yelp and stared at you in surprise.

“What did I say?”

He let out a breathy laugh.

“You told me not to act like myself.”

“I did, didn’t I? How do you think you’re acting right now?”

He grinned and bit his lip, a gesture that should have been off-putting but somehow worked perfectly on his face.

“If you want me to stop --” He strained forward against your hand in his hair, leaning very close to your face. “You’re gonna have to make me.”

“Done.”

You him closer and kissed him.

It was desperate, aggressive, laced with frustration and the slightest bit of self-satisfaction. He slipped his tongue into your mouth eagerly, smiling slightly when you returned the gesture. You could feel his confidence returning in every shift of his lips. He laid his hands high on your legs, squeezing them slightly as you pushed yourself further into his lap.

You lightly bit his lip and his fingertips dug further into your thighs.

He was greedy, seemingly entirely focused on getting closer to you, constantly closer when when he wrapped his arms around you and every inch of your upper bodies were pressed together. You expected him to be more selfish, maybe a little lazy. You thought he’d make you chase him. Instead he was entirely wrapped up in you, sighing against your mouth when your tongue slid against him just so.

You were faintly aware of pressure between your legs. He was clearly excited, impatience becoming more apparent as your hips moved against him.

He gasped into your mouth. You hadn’t expected that reaction from someone like him. It surprised you so much you had to pull back and laugh. He somehow kept a light smile on his face when as he frowned.

“What’s so funny?” he asked. You laughed and leaned against his shoulder. His brows raised and he waited for you to finish.

“I -- it’s nothing.” You covered your face with your hands. “You’re just . . .” You looked between his legs.

“You don’t have to call attention to it! You’re in my lap. What options did I have?”

“Think about your grandmother.”

His nose wrinkled.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oo! Think about Iwa-chan,” you teased. Oikawa looked off to the side like he was seriously considering what you said.

“Actually . . .”

“Oh my god. No. Stop that.”

“You’re right. You’re much prettier than that brutish Iwa-chan.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently. It didn’t last long, but when he pulled away you felt like your ears were ringing.

“Are we going to finish what we started or shall I head home?”

You glanced at the time and glared at him.

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you.”

His face lit up.

“Really?”

You glared at him.

“Fine,” he said, leaning further against the back of the chair. “Do your worst.”

He inhaled a sharp breath as you gripped his hair and forced your lips together.

If your first kiss was aggressive, this one could almost be described as vicious. He yanked you against him, but not before you could start pulling at the buttons of his shirt and pushing your hips against his. He let out a small sound, so quiet it sounded like he was purposefully holding back to save his pride. You got his shirt open and took a moment to appreciate just how strong and soft he looked. Another perfection stacked on perfection. No wonder he had such a shitty personality sometimes. He had to make up for the rest of his strengths.

You ran your hands down his chest and he shivered. He shifted his lips away from yours and ran them down your jaw. He landed a few open mouth kisses on your neck as he slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt. He only pulled his mouth off of you to tug it over your head, then immediately returned and kissed along your collarbone.

You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into the warm press of his hands. He grabbed your hips and rocked them against him.

You both gasped, not realizing how sensitive you were to each other until you were more active about it. You prayed that you wouldn’t regret what you were about to do, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You hopped out of Oikawa’s lap and you silently thanked the universe that you weren’t wearing real pants. Having to shimmy out of a pair of jeans just to have sex with Tooru Oikawa was something you would have never lived down.

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Shut up before I regret this.”

He held up his hands in surrender, smiling lightly to himself. You readjusted your clothing as he frantically undid and tugged down the front of his slacks.

You swung back onto his lap. He hissed a bit at the more direct contact and stared up at you with wide eyes. He looked almost precious like this, like a kid playing with a toy for the first time. You tried to force the image out of your head.

You brought your lips back to his, kissing him hard as you brought your hand between his legs and tugged down the waistband of his briefs. He hummed in surprise but didn’t break the kiss. He finally seemed to grasp reality when you tugged your underwear to the side, and positioned yourself over him.

“You really wanted me didn’t you? Is this all you could think about while we were—”

You slid down onto him with little resistance. His eyes shut and he choked on the rest of his words.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked.

He let out a bitter laugh and tipped his head against your chest.

“Rude.”

You buried a hand in his hair, tugging slightly and reconnecting your lips as you started moving. He brought his hands to your hips to help you shifted on top of him. You were almost annoyed with how good he felt inside of you, somehow being just enough but not too much and hitting you exactly where you needed him. Your motion in his lap was more eager than you wanted to seem, but you felt like you genuinely couldn’t help it.

Oikawa pulled away from your lips and buried his face into your neck, swearing quietly. You summoned all the strength in your legs to go a little faster, allowing yourself to give in to the feeling as much as you wanted to hold back.

You held a little tighter to his hair and he began letting out nearly silent whimpers, soft and high and breathy. They were somehow both very unlike him and exactly what you would expect. He moved his hands from your hips to wrapping his arms around your waist.

He swore, voice muffled against your chest. You hummed in agreement, head tipping back as he pulled you down harder onto him.

One hand pulled away from your waist and fell between your legs.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded without looking at him and he beamed. He slipped his hand beneath the fabric and began rubbing circles on your clit. You tipped forward and and buried your face against his hair, trying and failing to hold back a gasp. He laughed, then groaned as you pulled on his hair again.

“You like when I do that, don’t you?” you asked, smiling against his face.

“Shut up,” he huffed, moving his thumb faster against you. You moaned and tightened your arms around his neck.

“Are you close?” you asked.

“Mhmm.”

“Good.” You were breathless and riding the wire yourself, feeling like you could tip over any second.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “You’re gorgeous.”

The words sent a shock through you and you moaned against your will. You wanted to return the compliment, but you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you desperately pressed your mouth to his and sighed into his mouth.

His arm latched around your waist. It allowed your hips to shift less but made him hit you even deeper. Your breath rushed from your mouth into his and he drank it in.

Your lips hovered just above his as you swore, grip on his neck tightening so much you were sure it was almost painful as your body shook. You went over recklessly and almost embarrassingly hard, but it seemed to drive him crazy. He held you steady in his lap as he followed after you, eyes squeezing shut as harsh sounds fell from his lips.

You fell limp against each other, chests heaving in a shared rhythm. Slowly, your pants became laughs as you realized the position you were in. He joined in until you were both in a fit, voices breathless and giddy and muffled against each other’s skin.

“That was better than I thought it was gonna be,” you said. He weakly smacked your leg and squeezed you in a firm hug.

“You’re so mean.”

You ran a hand through his hair, hoping he wouldn’t see the genuine smile on your face.

You checked the time again and noticed his face had turned up

“Why do you keep checking the time?”

“Nothing. My roommate just —”

There was the sound of a lock in the door and in swung open.

“Oh my god!” You scrambled out of his lap as your roommate stepped into the entryway. “I’m so sorry.”

You tried to explain through small bursts of laughter as Oikawa rearranged his pants and gathered his things. He tucked into his shoes and approached the door.

“Tooru. It’s nice to meet you.” He grinned, looking somehow even more handsome with his ruffled hair and rumpled, unbuttoned shirt.

She stared at him like he was out of his mind. His smile didn’t falter.

“Well.” He turned to you and did a single finger gun motion. “I’ll be seeing you. You have my number.”

The door swung shut and you buried your face in your hands.

Shit.

#meg’s 300 follower event :)#oikawa x reader #oikawa smut #tooru oikawa smut #tooru oikawa x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader

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mzjmesa · 3 years ago

Text

Out Loud | Chloe Decker

She was a good detective. Is. The pride of the office, the officer praised here and there. Your partner. Your bestfriend. Detective Chloe Decker. It wasn't because of her smart, genius mind that attracted you to her, no. Well, sometimes, anyway. But it could've been alot of reasons, loving Chloe Decker. And you would've loved any other reasons— to make this easier, to make the feelings disappear sooner. Because whatever the attraction was, it was unprofessional— Chloe never did unprofessional. And you fear if you couldn't hold it any longer, she'd run away from you.

You can't bear that.

But you loved Chloe either way. You loved her eyes, her kindness, that bright and knowing smile that goes with her eyes, you loved the way her lips part when she's about to say something defensive— you loved her. You loved her the most when she knocks at your door and asks how you're doing. You loved the late night talks and laughs about freshmen days which was rare, because she never spent so much time in highschool, she got unending stories about it anyway. You loved the way she listens. You loved her. You loved Chloe Decker. And as she passes by your desk, to the man she likes, you reminded yourself that it was wrong. Wrong because you were supposed to be happy for her.

A knock on your desk drifted your thoughts away, Dan. “How are we doing?” he asked, if he'd caught you staring enviously at Chloe and Lucifer, he hadn't mind.

“How are we doing?” You repeated stupidly, still hungover from yesterday. Which by the way was Chloe's fault, you just wouldn't admit it to yourself.

Dan shrugs, “Yeah? I sent you files to look at, remember?”

Oh.

You shake your head as though it would help you focus on the present and tried to remember where you had placed the papers. You checked your drawers, trying hard to block out Chloe and Lucifer's voices. You busied your hand flipping through dozens of papers, vividly remembering the file's name.

Jonathan Flinn's. Ahh. Case closed for 2 months, there wasn't much evidence of the murder, but the majority linked to him, and eventually the court pronounced him guilty. There had been questions left unsolved, and if Espinoza wasn't up to anything, it would've been left at that.

You sighed, “Have you talked to Chloe about this?”

“Yeah,” He looked past your shoulder to where Chloe was, then back to you. “she thinks it's a bad idea.”

Of course she did. You did, too. That was a thing between you two, something about your guts always telling you the same what's what. That's why you were partnered with her, and you would've loved to continue being one (although truth be told, you still were in papers anyway) but she'd found a consultant, a batshit crazy one at that. Lucifer Morningstar. Always telling himself he's the devil, going on and about his everyday life like anyone gives a damn, and always making everything about himself. If he wasn't charming, and a ‘friend’ of Chloe's, you would've hated him. Most times you did. But times when Chloe was down, he was always the first to cheer her up. You used to be the one doing that, until he came.

“You should listen to her, Dan.”

“Oh c'mon! I would've agreed with Chloe and wouldn't have come to you if it weren't so important. His mother is my god—”

“—mother. Yes, yes, I know that, Dan. I know you think this is a good idea to pay her back, too. But it's not, trust me. Trust Chloe.” You exhaled, feeling the weight of her stare on your back. “It could go worst anyway, what when we can't find any evidence or if we do, worst case scenario is it'll only lead to him. Again. We'll just worsen his situation.”

Dan sighed, massaging his jaw with exasperation because he knew you were right. And also because as much as he pretends not to care too much, he does. You loved that about him.

As you heard footsteps behind, you handed back the files to Dan who hid it behind his back, masking his irritation with a smile to Chloe.

You ignored her, lingering your eyes on the missing button of Dan's shirt.

“Ella found some prints, we haven't identified it yet but it's likely our lead.” Chloe started just behind you, and you knew Lucifer was beside her as much as you hated it. “In the meantime, Dan? I'd like to discuss to you about the Flinn case, Lucifer and I went back to the crime scene yesterday. We found nothing.”

Dan frowned. “I thought you said it was a bad idea.”

“I know, I know. I... ugh... well I went over it again, anyway.”

A small smile creeped on his face, and you were almost sure his eyes were watering when Lucifer jumped on the conversation about his father, bla bla bla. You couldn't care less. Chloe did, and that should be enough for Lucifer. She'd always been enough for you. You bit your lips, wishing you could busy your hands with something. Anything. But your desk was on your back, and oh, Chloe, too.

It felt immature and all, but you were hurting just knowing they were together, seeing them would break you.

“I'll check in on with Ella.” Chloe announced, “(Y/N)?”

“Are you having a stroke Miss (L/N)? Staying still like a trained robot, you're scarying me— and believe when I say I rarely get scared.” Lucifer added.

Oh you believe alright. And robots are trained?! Trying to hide your feelings with a forced smile, you turned around, making sure you weren't going to make an eye contact with a certain detective, and immediately grabbed a random paper and pen you can hold— scribbling anything. Anything at all.

“I'm alright.” You answered after a beat or two, still unbothered to look. Who would want to, honestly.

Chloe cleared her throat, whispered something to Lucifer, and then bid goodbye. It was then when you looked at them walking away. Lucifer's hand on her back, Chloe looking small beside him— your chest aching the same, if not, more.

You're definitely not gonna look again.

You had a week off work, and you'd almost fell to your knees thanking God when the lieutenant told you. You needed it more than you needed Chloe, which proves just how important it was— Chloe had been. Still is, by the way.

It was 8 am, by now Chloe would be at her desk, examining or making reports, or on a crime scene with Ella and, Lucifer. You snapped out of your mind, reminding yourself you'd needed the vacation because work and particularly Chloe had been stressing you out and very much so hurting you.

You'd hit the beach, go to the mountains for the view,— you didn't wanna hike though, you needed rest not making sweats— visit your sister and niece, and then finally bake while blasting Taylor Swift because admit it or not, you're much broken than your grandmother's vase.

When the water was hot enough, you took a bath and dressed. A peach-colored tank top that comes along with a brown mini skirt and a coat was your outfit for the day. Only, the coat reminded you too much of Chloe's. She liked coats. And that coat, back then warning you that she'd steal it eventually. So you changed with other coats, just didn't fit well with the shirt and skirt, so you gave in and left your hair untouched and untied. Grabbing your pouch and your gun— a licensed one, just in case. And opened your door. You would've preferred the bright sky and fresh air of the morning in LA. But Chloe Decker was standing there, fist on air as if she'd been ready to knock.

You froze.

Were you having a stroke? Most likely.

“(Y/N).”

“Chloe.”

Wasn't she supposed to be at work? You didn't mind either way, but it surprised you still, she hadn't been visiting much since... Lucifer. Everything's just been different since he arrived, not in a good way for you.

You stepped aside, not saying anything since you figured out a human wouldn't understand any word that comes out of your mouth. She went in, instead of sitting on your couch like the old days, she lingered on the living room, standing and looking at you.

Most times you hadn't mind.

She started, “How are you?”

“I'm good.”

“No, (Y/N). How are you?”

You didn't know what to say. Or why she'd ask a question as that. “I'm not—”

“Do you like me?”

What.

Your face must've given the shock, because she answered your unasked question. “Dan said some things. I'm-I'm not— you're not transferring, are you?”

Oh you're definitely gonna choke the life out of Dan. But knowing him, he wouldn't have spit it out too easily. He was probably drunk and didn't mean it. Still, you wished you said it to Chloe yourself. About the liking and transferring.

You remained silent, reading the expression on Chloe's face. Was she sad? Upset? After years of knowing her, you would've known right away. But now you couldn't. And you fear you might've forgotten the every detail of her face, too.

“(Y/N)...” Her voice gave out, carrying every sadness within. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“About what?” You answered stupidly in a whisper, fearing that if you came into your senses everything would feel too real.

“About everything! About— about your feelings for me. About Seatte. About why you've been so far from me!”

“You have been far from me, Chloe.”

She frowns, and you knew millions and billions and gazillions of questions where popping in her mind.

Tears in your eyes were forming, and you hated it, all of this. She wasn't supposed to know at all. She wasn't supposed to know you had immature feelings for her. Wasn't supposed to know you were transferring atleast 'till next month. But Chloe wasn't dumb, and you should've known that.

Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat, her breathing heavy. “We could've talked about it.”

“We haven't talked much at all these days because of—” you cut yourself off, rolling your eyes at how sick it feels. You hated yourself for it, but you continued anyway. “Because of Lucifer.”

She exhaled. “Lucifer and I are complicated.”

“I know that, Chloe.” You said firmly, meeting her gaze pitying you. Of course she pities you. “I also know you like him so much. I know you've been crying when he fake married that Candy. I know you've been sick worrying when he can't answer your texts or calls. I know you've gone lengths trying to understand him. I know. I know so much so that I didn't wanna be so selfish and tell you things you didn't wanna hear because it'll make your complicated relationship with Lucifer even more complicated. I fucking know. And I loved you too much.”

Chloe's tears were beginning to fall, one by one, slowly. And it hurts you to see her like this. Especially because you know you caused it.

“It was never my intention to push you away. You're my friend— can't we just stay like this?” She asked in a soft, breaking voice. And if it wasn't Chloe you would've said yes because people are easy to move on from. But it was indeed Chloe and she was... not like anyone you know. She was a missing piece of your puzzle. Only, you have never been a piece of hers.

“I love you, Chloe.”

It was weird, saying it out loud, to her. You never thought you could, knowing you were a coward than every cowards combined.

You did though, and that must've pulled something. Because Chloe approached you, side hugged, and then left.

So much for a vacation.

You spent the night crying.

Chloe Decker spent hers with the man she loved. And you were never that man.

#chloe decker x reader #chloe decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #wlw #angst #angsty #fluff #hurt/comfort #hurt no comfurt #hurt comfort

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jenojaemssss · 4 years ago

Text

dazed and confused

pairing: jeong jaehyun x gn!reader

genre/categories: angst, college!au, frat boy!jaehyun, a bit of fluff

word count: 3.6k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble wtf)

warnings: mentions of sex, allusions of sex yk the vibes, oh and a lot of cursing 'cause i lack the ability to keep language below 14+

synopsis: jaehyun isn’t scared of heights. he isn’t afraid of roller coasters that dropped at those terrifying heights. but he is, in fact, so utterly terrified of falling.

a/n: y’all this was supposed to be a drabble…but i wrote too much and now it’s a fic and idk how i feel abt it LOL anyways, it has not been (and will probably never be) proofread so please excuse any grammatical and spacing errors! i will now go cry with my 3 assignments due in like an hour.

~~~~~~~~

faded. drunk. confused. mentally unstable. all these words, along with maybe 30 more could be used to describe your current state as you sludge your way into a familiar bedroom at the nu chi theta house after puking up probably a lifetime’s worth of alcohol.

the god awful ringing in your ears and the throbbing of your head makes the room spin, but you’re awake enough to recognize that the room was currently occupied. before you can mumble out a string of curse words and a sorry, you particularly notice exactly who was inside the room.

you’re caught off guard by a, now pissed looking, jaehyun along with someone who you don’t immediately recognize. you realize then who’s room you just entered and mentally smack yourself, reminding yourself to rid of the habit.

the other person is hiding underneath a blanket as jaehyun does his best to cover their figure, protecting their privacy to shoot daggers at whoever was interrupting his ordeal.

it takes you a couple seconds to fully register what was happening in front of you and you scoff.

so that’s how it is.

jaehyun, on the other hand, has his eyes widened. so wide that you think there are more whites visible than the typical brown orbs. he’s gaping now, mouth open and trying to think of excuses as to why he was in bed with someone else after dumping you only 2 days ago.

in his defense, there’s no need for an excuse. the two of you were already over, and he could fuck whoever he wanted to fuck. you could be doing the same.

but you aren’t.

instead, all of yesterday and the day before, you hunkered in your bedroom, cuddled in a blanket with tissues sprawled all over your bed and the floor. you went to your classes, hoodie pulled up way over your head to shield your puffy face and baggy eyes, came home, drowned yourself in ice cream, and cried.

yet he’s here, hooking up with people after leaving you heartbroken. you should’ve listened to jungwoo when he warned you about his flatmate; about his tendencies to sleep around and leave his relationships in the dirt.

when you and jaehyun first began flirtatious interactions with one another, it wasn’t in your intention to start anything serious with the dimple-faced boy. yet one encounter followed another and you never realized how hard you were falling until you were up at 3 am smiling at messages he’d sent you the previous day.

when he asked you to be his girlfriend after about 2 months of successful dates, you were ecstatic. your mind raced back to jungwoo, correcting him telepathically. he was so wrong about jaehyun. he was the sweetest person you’d ever been with, and was so patient with you.

It even made jungwoo take back his words after you announced the relationship to your best friend.

he said jaehyun had changed since he’s been with you.

that change lasted about 4 months afterwards.

4 months of pure bliss; cute dates like picnics at 11 pm after going on drives, watching the sunset from the roof of a nearby apartment building, jumping fences into the expanses of lakes after hours.

4 months of being pressed into a mattress with jaehyun gazing down so lovingly at your writhing body. him pressing into you as your mewls surround the small bedroom. him holding you as both of you come down from your high.

4 months of falling in love with jaehyun.

all to waste after he texted you during class, saying that he needed to talk to you. at least he had the decency to not dump you over text.

jaehyun said something along the lines of “it’s not you, it’s me,” and mentioned that he “doesn’t like being tied down.” you remember nodding, emotions not surfacing until he stands up and leaves you at the coffee shop just around the corner of your dorm building.

your coffee shop. the one you two went to whenever you wanted to find the other. it was like your secret hideout, because no one from your campus knew of this place, even though it was so close to home.

you thought things were going so well, the two of you even making plans to meet each other’s parents over the coming break. but with only a few words from one side, and wordless nods coming another, everything faded to dust.

so as you stare at the man who shattered your heart with someone else underneath him, you plaster a polite smile before flipping him off and exiting the room. his shouts follow you, and you inwardly scream at him to shut up. he has no right to sound so broken at the moment.

you pass by jungwoo on your way out and he immediately notices your tense figure, trailing his eyes towards the direction you were coming from. his jaw clenches when he realizes, wanting to barge into the room and beat the living shit out of his flatmate, but instead follows you out the house.

the blaring music coming from the beaten house becomes muffled by the time you step foot outside the door, tears threatening, but not yet falling from your bloodshot eyes.

jaehyun isn’t slow to catch up with you, but is stopped by a raging jungwoo before exiting the house. jungwoo warns jaehyun to leave you alone, but jaehyun is persistent, pushing past his friend to grasp your shoulder before you could storm away from his reach.

his previous rendezvous has been completely forgotten, and all jaehyun could focus on was you. he notices how you reeked of alcohol, a hint of marijuana radiating from you as well. what he notices the most, though, was that you had a hint of his favorite perfume lingering on your skin.

before you have the chance to turn around, jaehyun is ripped from you, a loud smack following almost immediately after. jaehyun stands, one hand holding onto his pounding cheek while the other grip’s jungwoo’s shirt.

your best friend has both his hands tightly fisting jaehyun’s shirt, staring bullets into the boy’s face.

“you have no right to barge out here and chase us down after you let y/n go,” jungwoo growls. he sees red, heart hurting for his best friend. he cares about you so much. the two of you always fitting into one mold, completing each other, and every time either one of you had their hearts broken, the other would be there to fix and mend everything.

yet, he’d never seen someone hurt you as much as jaehyun did. however much you hurt, it hurt him equivalently. he knew this one was different, because the pain you felt was so much more intense than any you’d experienced before.

what pushed jungwoo even further off the ledge for him to act like this though, was that if he were to be in the same position as you, you would be doing the same thing. you’d also be doing your best to keep him from hurting himself over and over by someone who only meant trouble.

“woo, that’s enough,” you mutter out before coming to push the two boys away from each other.

“y/n, let me explain,” jaehyun grabs your arm as he says this, eyes searching yours for some form of reaction. your previously watery eyes are dry now, and the emotion that was threatening to overcome you minutes prior have all disappeared. you shrug off his hand.

“there’s nothing left for you to explain.”

it killed you, but you had to muster the strength to spit those words at the man you were falling in love with. you knew that it would have been worse if you were to hear him out.

“y/n please just-”

“that’s enough,” you whip your head in his direction, warning him with your eyes.

“but y/n-”

“i said enough!” you’re yelling now, slightly pushing the boy back. he stumbles over himself, and jungwoo takes this opportunity to grab your shoulders and tuck you safely behind his back. you had tears running from your eyes, frustrated at the tugging of your heartstrings because you’re supposed to hate him. you were supposed to be elated that you were in this situation, him begging for your time.

yet it hurt seeing him so broken in front of you, begging for another chance. it hurt so damn much, and you’re so angry at yourself for being such a pushover.

jaehyun straightens himself, looking in your direction but not quite at you because you're hiding your face behind your best friend’s denim jacket covered back.

“y/n, i just want to apologize.”

“there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“there-”

“no, jaehyun, there isn’t,” you use this as a stepping stone to emerge from behind jungwoo, who’s calmed down a bit since connecting his fist with jaehyun’s sharp features.

“don’t talk. let me finish,” you raise a hand before he could get another word out of his mouth. he shrinks a bit, but his eyes focus on your figure slowly approaching him, letting you know he’s listening.

“there’s no need for you to apologize for whatever you were doing because we aren’t together anymore and you can sleep with whoever you want. i don’t care, it’s none of my business. you don’t have to apologize for me walking in on you, because again, none of my business anymore.” you take in a deep breath before you continue.

“if you were going to apologize for breaking up with me, there’s no need. what’s done is done,” you whisper. you feel a huge lump form in your throat. you do your best to swallow it, along with your pride, and smile up at him.

you can’t really read him, but you can tell he’s in thought. you continue.

“if you were to apologize,” you began, sniffing up the snot that’s beginning to trickle down your nose. you probably look like a mess, but you could care less. you needed to get all of this off your chest. you wouldn’t have any other opportunities, so might as well do it now.

fuck the fake smile. fuck faking it til you make it. this is so much better.

“you should be apologizing for making me believe you were sincere with me,” you continue. jaehyun’s eyes go wide, and you notice the slight, subconscious, shake of his head. you proceed.

“i shouldn’t have believed it when you said i was different. fool me once, shame on me. but you continued to make me believe that i was different.” jaehyun opens his mouth, but you give him a look that shuts him up completely. he needs to fix that habit of always wanting to interrupt.

your ramble continues. “you should be apologizing for lying to me when you said you wanted to meet my parents. we set up the date and everything, and they were actually looking forward to meeting you, but now i have to tell them you aren’t coming,” you speak as calmly as you can. anything related to your parents always makes you ten times more emotional in every situation, and this was taking somewhat of a toll on you.

“you should be apologizing for making me feel special all the damn time. you made me believe i was the only one for you and that you were the only one for me. you made me feel so fucking foolish after you left, you know that? i thought we were doing so well, and you just left me in the dust after being so fucking vague. what do you mean ‘it’s not me, it’s you?’ it makes absolutely no fucking sense,” you’re almost hysterical now as you let everything fall down your face. you’re still eye to eye with jaehyun, and he looks taken aback by your declarations that he’s rendered speechless.

your next few words are what makes jaehyun’s world come crashing down.

“you should be apologizing for making me believe you were falling in love with me too,” you whimper. you’re full on sobbing now, and jungwoo assists you from falling to your knees.

it takes jaehyun a couple moments to register what was happening, a couple moments to fully comprehend what you were saying; what you meant.

you were so broken because you were beginning to love him. and he let you go.

“i’m..i’m-”

“leave, jae. do it when i’m asking nicely,” jungwoo’s low voice echos from your spot on the ground. your shoulder shake with every sob you’re letting escape you.

“jungwoo, let me fucking talk, okay? stop interrupting me every damn time while i’m trying to figure things out with y/n. this was our relationship, not yours!” he’s yelling now, and jungwoo shrinks. he knows he’s stepping over the line, but some things reach a limit, and jaehyun is reaching his.

“yes, i know y/n told you things, but did you know that i used to wait after classes when the weather turned bad just to make sure y/n wouldn’t be walking home in the rain? always forgot an umbrella when it counts,” he chuckles the last line, eyes teary.

“did y/n tell you that every single time my phone rang, i was internally wishing that the name popping up on the screen would be ‘lovely’ and no one else’s? i always wait for your calls, you know,” he directs it to you this time. “they always made my day.”

you raise your head when you realize he was walking to you. when you see his tortured expression while reminiscing his feelings for you, you suddenly had the urge to run up to him and wipe away the tears falling from his handsome face. you hated that that was your first thought, though.

“did y/n tell you i was falling too?”

you tense at his words, and jungwoo scoffs.

“if you were falling, why did you break things off?” the words leave your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. your mind was running a mile a minute because in what world did it make sense for jaehyun to dump you when he claims to be falling in love with you.

“i was scared,” he finally mutters after a couple seconds of painful silence.

“what is there to be scared of, jaehyun?” you’re standing now, jungwoo completely baffled at the interaction taking place in front of his eyes. he realizes then, that maybe jaehyun was telling the truth.

jaehyun was scared of falling.

jungwoo recalls all the times jaehyun has been in an actual relationship, but can only remember one other time that he actually introduced someone to the boys as his. all the others were just casual flings, where they'd be slipping out the door before anyone could acknowledge their existence.

when he broke things off with that past relationship, his actions were similar to the ones he’s portrayed the past few days. silence in his room instead of the typical blaring music from his sound system. a shocking decrease in teasing his housemates. jungwoo even noticed that he didn’t see the dimples on jaehyun’s face as frequently.

the one other person ended the same way, jaehyun breaking it off about 4 months into the relationship, saying he didn’t like being tied down.

he didn't like being tied down? he doesn’t like...shit, what a fucking dumbass. he’s scared of being in love, jungwoo realized.

“that’s what you meant,” jungwoo states his epiphany out loud and he stands up. he brushes off any dirt from his pants and begins to walk towards the house, knowing that whatever happens on the front lawn would heal more than harm.

you look at your best friend in confusion, but he plasters a grin on his face and looks in your direction before turning to jaehyun. “you need to stop being such a wuss.” and he’s back inside the house.

“it seems like everyone’s mission is to cut me off today, and it’s getting a little aggravating,” he tries to joke and you just stare at him in silence. he takes it as an, “i don’t care, just talk,” and begins his tangent.

“i broke things off with you because i was scared,” he begins. you follow his words with a nod, emphasizing that you’re listening to the man standing across you.

“i’ve never been in love before, and i didn’t realize how-how utterly terrifying it felt. i was close one time, but i broke things off before anything else could develop because i didn’t think i was ready for it. i felt like i was incapable of love for a while because of my stupid frat boy image, you know?” you nod in response to his rhetorical question and he begins moving towards the small bench sat on the lawn. you follow suit and sit yourself down a good distance away from him.

he talks again, this time sounding more regretful than anything. “i sometimes tell myself how idiotic i am because i let them go before. if i just had the balls to accept the fact that maybe i was falling in love, i wouldn’t have to see them roam around campus a couple months after with someone else.”

you remember briefly jaehyun’s previous relationship. it was the talk amongst your campus because the jeong jaehyun was in an actually relationship with someone. and people were making bets on how long they thought it’d last. same as they’ve been doing for your relationship with him.

“it all kind of got to me without much of a warning because like, shit, falling in love with someone meant checking your phone every 3 minutes cause you’re scared you missed their call, or calling them if they took too long to assure you they’re home safe, that kind of thing,” he smiles. “no one teaches you that.”

you chuckle dryly because he hit the nail on the coffin. no one tells you the details about being in love, only mentioning the feelings and not the irrational things you’d do for them.

jaehyun continues after he assures himself that you’re listening to his words and internally heave a relieved sigh. he was scared you were going to have things come in one ear and out the other.

“at the same time, if i kept them in my life, i wouldn’t have met you. we wouldn’t have developed a relationship, and i wouldn’t have began to fall in you,” he scoots a bit closer to you, and you let him.

“and you wouldn’t have broken my heart like this,” you retaliate and he physically winces.

“ouch. you’re not wrong though,” he smiles, dimples reappearing on his face.

“get to the point, jaehyun. it’s cold as fuck and i don’t have a jacket,” you complain when he’s silent for a little too long. you’re holding your arms now, hit by the frosty air. when he’s silent for another moment, you look up from your feet, ready to complain again. but instead, you’re met with a hoodie being pulled over your head and you’re stunned.

“when i said i was cold, i didn’t mean for you to give me your hoodie.”

“well, too bad,” he smiles widely. the hoodie smells like him, and you take in his scent. the sweater was a bit larger on you, so you begin to roll the sleeves up, pulling your arms out of the sweater paws.

“as i was saying, i realized i was falling in love with you and i was just- i don’t know, i was scared. i think i’ve said the word scared like 10 times today, but what other word is there?” he chuckles. you do the same.

“so i did what any other sane person would do and dipped. i ran away from my feelings because in my brain, it was the best thing to do. and i hurt you in the process because i was being a selfish asshole, and i’m sorry,” he finishes, you assume. as you’re thinking about how to respond, he catches you off guard with something you never thought would leave jaehyun’s mouth.

“oh, and i love you. i’m sure of it,” he declares.

and you’re crying again. as intoxicated as you were just 30 minutes ago, you swear that in that moment, you weren’t drunk on the drinks or faded from the j’s, but you were intoxicated by jaehyun.

the way he’s looking at you, the way he’s smiling at you.

he stretches out a hand in your direction, asking for your permission to take your own and grab his hand in response. his hand engulfs yours like a hug, and he intertwines his fingers with your cold ones.

“so does this mean you love me back?” he questions.

you nod, because you can’t think of anything else to say. you’re so utterly in love with him that you’re rendered speechless, you fool.

“and does this mean we can start over?” he asks, hoping for another nod.

instead, you speak. “why were you fucking someone else when i got here if you’re in love with me?”

jaehyun is now the one rendered speechless and gulps before answering. “have you ever heard of heartbreak sex?”

“isn’t that supposed to be with the one who broke your heart?”

“yeah, but if we had sex, i would only fall in love with you more.”

“and you don’t want that?”

“i do now,” he smiles.

you roll your eyes and say nothing.

“i’m sorry i hurt you.”

“you better be.”

“i promise i won’t do it again.”

“next time you do, i’m chopping off your dick in your sleep so you won’t be able to go have heartbreak sex with someone else.”

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oitommothetease · 3 years ago

Text

Invisible String (2/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Warning: Sexual assault, mention of an anxiety attack.

Word Count: 1641

It turns out you definitely can't do this. Working in retail sucks, majorly. Customers are so awful to you and other employees as well. You didn't make the products, you don't control the prices, then why should you listen to them rant about it all day?

This job was from 9 am to 4 pm, which reminded you a lot of your previous job. By the time you got home, you were exhausted mentally and physically. Your current schedule was eerily similar to your previous lifestyle, which left you with no time to work on your book.

You felt like you were stuck in an insufferable loop that you just can't seem to escape no matter how hard you try. You thought about Mr. Barnes a lot, too. If only you weren't so egoistic and been a little nicer, then maybe you could have had that job.

With each passing day, you were becoming desperate. The only reason why you didn't run to Mr. Barnes a week ago was your pride. A pride that would not let you bow down to that rude, egoistic asshole.

It's like the universe could hear your thoughts and the devil himself walked through the doors of the store. Fuck, he can't see you here. He's going to think you're some nut job who's chasing stupid dreams after having an excellent degree. At least that's what your parents think.

You were about to run and hide behind an aisle when the voice you knew too well called out for you.

"Hey, do you know where I could find-"

"You," He said, without an emotion. "What are you doing here?"

You pointed towards the badge with the name tag on your shirt and mouthed working.

"Why?"

"Why?" You pretended to think, "I don't know, I interviewed for this other job about a week ago, but the boss was an ass."

"You lied to me," he stated as if it wasn't the most obvious thing.

"Gee, sorry, dad."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what again?" You questioned.

" Diverging a question with a joke," He answered with an unaffected tone like he was studying you and your reaction.

"You know who I am." he stated. It should have been a question, but both of you were aware of what he meant.

"A vampire?" You mocked. He didn't look like one though, but hey, neither did Edward nor Stefan. But God, those steel-blue eyes could drink you up and you wouldn't complain. Focus.

For the first time you saw an emotion on his face that wasn't unaffected or bored, he was confused. Of course, he was confused, you were referencing twilight to a mob boss (you think, you weren't sure, but that's all you could gather from all the articles you found about him online).

"I need that job," you confessed. " I know it's not very convincing, but I need you to trust me-"

He raised a brow at that and his lips turned into a smirk. God, you wished you could swipe off that smirk from his stupidly handsome face.

"But you don't trust me, " you stated dejectedly and started turning around. "You wanted something? "

In an instant, his hand wrapped around your wrist gently, stopping you in your tracks. You ignored the involuntary shudder that ran through you and immediately yanked your hand out of his grasp.

You turned around and were about to give him a piece of your mind about how he shouldn't just come to your place of work and touch you without consent. He clearly guessed your thoughts and cut in.

"Clint Barton, the manager, he will tell you everything you need to know about bartending and handling the customers."

Did he just hire you? What changed between this and your previous meeting with him?

And just like that, he left. There was a part of you that wanted to say fuck off I don't need your help, but you knew better, so you went to that club later that evening. You found the Manager, Clint. He told you he was expecting your arrival and that made you feel weird because Mr. Barnes was totally opposite the day you met.

Your new job required you to be at work from 8 pm to 3 am, which was ideal for you. You usually reach home and pass out till 4 in the morning and wake up around noon. This schedule gave you a lot of time to work on your book.

You ended up making friends with some other people that work there as well. Wanda was the smart, sarcastic one that you'd have died to have as a friend in high school. Pietro, her twin brother, was also nice, a bit fast and impatient, but he was nice to you. Peter looked very young, but he knew what he was doing and he'd help you out a lot. That kid had a lot of energy and adrenaline, which surprised you every time he'd be done with work way before you.

You didn't see Mr. Barnes frequently. You saw him one time entering the club, and you tried to give him a smile which he ignored and went straight to his office upstairs. And then you decided to ignore him as well. It wasn't like you to be petty, okay, maybe you were being petty, but in your defense, he started it.

You were finishing up cleaning the table and were about to call it a day when a man you didn't recognize, probably wasn't a regular, came in asking for a drink.

"I'm sorry, sir. We're closed." You told him politely.

"Whiskey on the rocks."

You wanted to refuse him again, but you stopped yourself when he came into your sight. He didn't look like the kind of man who'd take your no seriously. He looked just as intimidating as Mr. Barnes, even more, but Mr. Barnes knew his boundaries, whereas this man in front of you evidently didn't. You could tell this by the way his gaze was slowly taking your body in and stopping a little longer at your cleavage.

You wanted to cringe and curse yourself for choosing to wear a top like that in a place filled with drunk men. The smarter part of your brain told you that he can go fuck himself, and you shouldn't think about men when you dress up. Women are entitled to wear whatever they want to and fuck men and people who tell them otherwise.

Carefully, you made his drink and handed it to him. His hand lingered on yours while taking the glass from you, and you wanted to just throw the drink across his face. His gaze remained on your chest even when you fixed your top and coughed twice to call his behavior out.

"What time do you get off?" he asked, eyes still on your chest.

Is this guy for real? , you thought.

"Um, this is highly inappropriate and I think you should leave now because I have to call it a night." you rejected politely, raising your hand towards the door, hoping he'd leave.

He chuckled darkly, his stare still drinking in your body as if you were a piece of meat, and it made you very, very uncomfortable. He obviously wasn't taking no for an answer, and you had no clue what to do. You were the only person left, and you didn't even know who to ask for help.

"Come on, baby girl," he said, walking towards you and forcefully snaking his hands around your waist to settle on your hips. " Don't make this harder than it should be. "

"No!" you yelled, pushing him away and creating some distance between you.

"Hard way it is then," he decided, walking towards you and forcefully holding the hem of your shirt in his hands to remove it. You struggled, yelled, and pushed him off you again. He furiously lunged forward towards you and hit you hard across the face. "Fucking bitch."

"Rumlow!" a voice boomed from behind you, and you hated yourself for being in such a vulnerable state. As much as you tried not to, tears welled up in your eyes and you hated being the helpless damsel in distress.

"Get the fuck out of here." the familiar voice ordered.

"Chill, Barnes. We were just having a little fun," the man known as Rumlow reasoned nonchalantly. "Besides, it's not my fault if she wears clothes like this."

You were all about feminism and how women should be treated equally with respect despite their attire, but at that moment you hated yourself for choosing that deep-neck shirt this morning.

"I'm not going to chill while you sexually harass my employees, so get the fuck out of here," Mr. Barnes warned again.

You closed your eyes and hoped that maybe this was a shitty dream and you'd wake up in your bed and have an anxiety attack because of the nightmare. You hoped that maybe the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you, so you could just not think about this ever.

You heard two sets of footsteps faintly in the background, one dragging its way away from you and the other rushing towards you. Furthermore, you didn't have it in you to open your eyes and meet the ocean blue ones that you knew were waiting for you.

In your head, you had already taken up the blame. The verdict came out the moment his gaze landed on your chest that it was your fault that you wore this shirt. Of course, if you were thinking right, you would have realized that you were undoubtedly the victim here and Rumlow was an asshole who assaulted you, but in your helpless state, your mind decided you were at fault here.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams

#mobster bucky #mob bucky #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobbucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #mob!bucky series #bucky series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes series

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hercleverboy · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats!!! I love your writing!! I’d like to request a blurb with #36 from the general list and #41 from fluf 💕💕💕

thank you so much! enjoy!

I don’t really like this piece too much, so please let me know what you think!

wc ↠ 1.7k

General #36 ↠ “Do you trust me?” “No.”

Fluff #41 ↠ “You say you hate him but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

Spencer Reid had hated her from the moment he met her.

Y/N was absolutely sure of it. When they met for the first time when she joined the BAU, he seemed polite enough. Though he just never let her in the same way he let in the other team members. She understood at first, Spencer had known the rest of the team for years at that point. She even found herself incredibly attracted to the young genius, developing somewhat of a crush on him. His reputation certainly proceeded him, particularly when it came to his issues with germs, so she kept to herself. She understood it would take him time to get used to her, but where the rest of the team warmed to Y/N and accepted her as a part of their family; Spencer never did.

During paperwork days when Y/N would get up to make coffee in the corner of the bullpen, Spencer would already be in the kitchenette, stirring his sugar in with intent. She’d always offer him a polite smile and some light conversation. However, it seemed that as soon as she started to speak, Spencer would pick up his coffee and head back to his desk. She let that go, thinking perhaps she was getting too much in his personal space, though it hung around in the back of her mind for weeks afterwards.

After cases when they’d get on the jet to go back home, she would take a seat opposite him, offer him a kind smile and then pull out a book to read, wholly intent on minding her own business. But Spencer, without even looking up at her, would simply get up and move to an empty seat at the other end of the jet.

Y/N exchanged a look with JJ, who had just shrugged in response. She couldn’t understand Spencer’s dislike for the woman who’d been nothing but kind, and who the team were all already incredibly fond of. She had good initiative, was brilliant in the field and had a capability to pick up on patterns earlier than the rest of them, sometimes even before the resident genius himself. The team suspected that Spencer’s supposed hatred for her was actually his poor attempt at disguising the fact that he was madly in love with her, but he never confirmed nor denied it.

Then somehow, as if she didn’t already think Spencer hated her enough, it got worse. Any time she made contributions to their group conversations, Spencer would cut her off. It was belittling, honestly. It made her second guess her intelligence whenever she’d pose a theory. Every time, without fail, Spencer would pipe up and say, ‘You’re wrong. It’s actually more plausible that—‘

One day, they were sat around the roundtable, having finished debriefing after a long case. The team exchanged murmurs of plans to head down to the bar, with Garcia smiling enthusiastically and insisting that the first round was on her. Y/N had felt pretty awful for the majority of the case, and to top it off she was sure she was coming down with a cold too.

“How about you, Y/L/N? You coming?” Morgan piped up, his usual smirk on his lips.

She forced a smile, scoffing. “No, I think I’m just gonna head home, but thank you.”

Morgan shook his head, determined. “Come on. Even Reid’s coming!”

Y/N looked over at Spencer then, who busied himself with packing away items in his satchel, although she didn’t miss the scowl that seemed to plant itself on his face. She looked back to Morgan. “Sorry Morgan, I’m just not feeling it.”

Morgan sighed, but still tried one last time, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “You sure? It’ll be fun, maybe you and Reid will finally start getting along after a few drinks.”

“Y/N bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sure there’s at least a hundred other people that Reid would rather spend the evening with.”

At that comment, Spencer threw his satchel strap over his shoulder and left the room in a hurry, a look on his face that seemingly resembled hurt.

Y/N swatted Morgan’s shoulder playfully. “Look what you’ve done now! You know how much Reid hates me.” She whined.

Morgan chuckled. “Please, Pretty Boy doesn’t hate you.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“It’s true! Don’t tell anyone I told you, but the team has an ongoing bet on when you two will finally admit your feelings for one another.” He leaned in closer to her. “And I’ve got $20 riding on it being in the summer, if you could help a guy out?”

Y/N groaned at that. “Well be prepared to lose your money, it’s never going to happen. Spencer Reid hates me, and do you know what? I hate him too.” She said defiantly, although it was all too obvious that she was lying through her teeth.

Morgan smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. “You say you hate him, but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

Y/N just waved him off, ignoring how he chuckled at how flustered she’d gotten, and that was that.

Reid’s quite frankly petty behaviour was really winding down on Y/N mentally, and although Hotch often told him off for his snarky comments or gave him the third degree for constantly trying to one-up her, Spencer persisted.

They’d been working on a new case for a week, and Garcia had just sent the team the location of where the unsub was holding his fourth victim hostage. Hopping out of the SUV’s, the team regrouped in front of the house as Hotch ran over the plan with them.

“JJ, Morgan and Rossi, you’re with me. Y/L/N and Reid will take the back. We take the unsub in alive if possible, understand?” He instructed, everyone nodding as they reached for their guns.

“Can’t you switch Morgan and Y/L/N over?” Spencer began to whine but was quickly shut down by Hotch shooting him a warning look. He scoffed, rolling his eyes in defeat. “Great.”

After entering through the back of the house, the two began checking each room they passed by. As they rounded a corner, stalking towards a closed door, Spencer moved so he was in front of Y/N, in what she noticed was an almost protective manner. He leaned closer to the door, listening intently for any sign that the unsub was inside.

“Is he in there?” She whispered, and Spencer looked back at her, nodding.

“I think so.”

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment in thought, running over the important details of the profile in her head. “Do you trust me?”

Spencer scoffed quietly. “No.”

“Well, you’re not going to have a choice.” She mumbled, and before Spencer realised what was happening, Y/N had burst open the door, her gun drawn.

Y/N was stood in the local police station’s conference room, collecting together files and taking down crime scene photos from the evidence board. The case had ended well. Based off of the profile, Y/N had decided that the best course of action was to confront the unsub head on- and it worked, too. Hotch had already told her that she’d done well that day, and that made her heart swell with pride. But Spencer? He hadn’t said anything on the ride back to the police station, busying himself with other things as they prepared to head back home.

Y/N sighed at the thought, looking up from the evidence board just as Spencer entered the room. He immediately turned around, heading back out the door when she called out for him.

“Reid!”

He stopped, turning back around. “What, Y/L/N?”

“What is your problem with me?” She asked, exasperated. She was so tired of just accepting his mistreatment, and she refused to do it any longer.

“I don’t have time for this.” He shook his head, turning to leave again.

“Spencer Reid! You’ve made my life hell since I first joined the Bureau and god help me, you are going to tell me what your problem is!”

“My problem?” He countered, his jaw clenched. “My problem is you! Putting yourself in danger like that without a second thought for the consequences.”

“The consequences? It turned out fine! My plan worked!” She bit back, voice rising.

“It was stupid and reckless, you know better than that.” He spat, making Y/N scoff.

“Why do you care?” She shouted frustratedly. “You can barely stand to be in the same room as me, and for the life of me Spencer I cannot figure out what it is that I did to make you hate me so much!”

Spencer’s defensive stance dropped, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find appropriate words. “Y/N, I know you think I do, but I don’t hate you.”

She gave a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, well you could’ve fooled me.” She sighed, hands running over her face as she attempted to calm herself down. “I don’t understand why me putting myself in danger bothers you so much-”

“Maybe because I love you!”

The silence that fell between them only lasted a handful of seconds. Spencer, prompted by the look of shock on Y/N’s face, scrambled to explain himself.

“I don’t hate you. I-I don’t really think I could if I tried.” He reiterated, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. “I’ve loved you since the day I first met you.”

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly so dry. “I don’t understand-“

“I’m so sorry, I know how poorly I’ve treated you. The only explanation I can offer is that I was so sure you wouldn’t feel the same that I thought it would be better to push you away than face rejection.” He whispered, moving closer to her, shame in his tone.

“You love me?” She murmured in disbelief. The words barely left her lips, so faint and shaky that Spencer nearly hadn’t heard her.

He laughed quietly, as though he was laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, yes I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

He’d moved to stand before her, the two of them looking at one another in absolute awe that they both felt the same way. Spencer’s eyes trailed down to her lips, moving back up to meet her eyes.

Y/N didn’t know how to respond, looking up at him incredulously. “Spencer..”

He bit down his lip, the words leaving his lips in a whisper. “Would it- would it be alright if I kissed you?”

She was nodding before she’d even processed his words, and when his lips met hers- it was euphoric. Like they were simply meant to be.

Perhaps Spencer Reid wasn’t that bad after all.

#kate writes blurbs☘️#spencer reid one shot #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader #mgg #criminal minds

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spenciegoob · 4 years ago

Text

Unfolded (Request)

A/N: hey hey hey... I’m gonna be honest this was super hard for me to write I absolutely hate the idea of being outed/outing someone, but I just channeled that anger into writing how much of a douche reader’s ex is... so enjoy and THANK U FOR THE REQUEST I LOVE GETTING REQUESTS I LOVE YOU <3

Summary: When an ex comes back to reveal a secret about Reader to Spencer, Reader prays it’s not the final straw in their relationship. (Requested)

Pairing: Spencer x Gender Neutral Ace!Reader

Category: Angst/fluff

Content Warnings: being outed, acephobia, bad break up, coming out

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4K

____

When I agreed to go out with the team for drinks after a rather gruesome case, I didn’t also agree to hiding out in the bathroom while a particularly awful ex ruined my brand new relationship.

Doctor Spencer Reid wasn’t quite like anyone else the world had to offer. He was brilliant in a way that made other people jealous, and while his mind was filled with statistics and the hard facts of the universe, his heart was soft. Spencer was kind, laying a blanket of serenity across the people he came in contact with, and I was lucky enough to be gifted his love.

Spencer Reid was mine, and in turn, I was his.

But that also meant that along the way to finding him, there had been some mistakes. I gave my heart to people who didn’t deserve it, watched from the sidelines as they smashed it to bits all because I was “a freak,” “weird.”

“Different.” I was once called different like it didn’t hurt as much as the others, but it did. The man who said those horrible things to me as he stormed out of my apartment as if I did something wrong was out there, sitting at the bar, telling my lover just how different I am.

“Hey, if you don’t want to go out, we can go back home and watch a movie. I’ll let you pick this time,” Spencer whispered in my ear as we approached the doors of the bar that held our friends. I couldn’t help but smile at the simple gesture. Spencer cared.

“As tempting as making you watch A Clockwork Orange again is, we’re already here. Let’s just have a good time.” I laughed along with him as he held the door open for me, the smell of cigarettes and booze immediately overwhelming my senses.

“You sure do have a weird taste in movies.” We deposited our coats on the backs of chairs to reserve our spots at the table with our friends before moving through sweaty bodies to the bar.

I ordered my usual rum and coke, and a water for Spencer knowing he wouldn’t be drinking tonight. As I went to continue our conversation from earlier however, a voice I wish I could forget came from behind me.

“Isn’t this a sight for sore eyes.” John, a man not worth the time or energy it takes to deal with his immaturity. The kind of man who only wants one thing, and wreaks havoc when he doesn’t get it.

“Hi, John.” I would’ve said more, but what could I have possibly said? It’s good to see you? It’s not, and I’m not lying to boost the man’s ego.

Spencer must have felt the discomfort practically screaming out at anyone who looked at the interaction between me and my ex, because he came to stand next to me, the height added from me sitting on the bar stool enough for Spencer to rest his arm around my shoulder.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. It never really was your kind of scene.” You didn’t know me at all, John.

“Yeah, well, uh, I’m... my friends-”

“I’m Spencer, and you are?” Oh thank god.

“John. One of (Y/N)’s exes.” I want to slap that god damn stupid smile right off his face and watch the way he- “You’re Spencer, the coworker, right?”

“Boyfriend, actually.” He said it with such pride, happiness about the 9 letter word evident in his tone that I couldn’t help but rest my head on his shoulder with a small smile of my own.

“Oh, wow. I guess you know then, right?” My blood ran cold. No, no no no this can’t be happening. Not now, not ever.

I have to get out of here.

“What?” Spencer asked. He looked down at me with pure confusion before returning his attention back to John. Rookie mistake.

“I’ll be right back.” It was stupid of me, I know. I got up and left Spencer all alone with no defenses against the army that was John’s condescending tone, but I couldn’t stay there. I knew what was coming, and I knew I couldn’t stop it.

So I ran, crashing into drunk 20 something year olds and bodies grinding on the dance floor until I reached the bathroom. By the time I made it inside, the music dulled so I could hear my own thoughts, I was already hyperventilating.

I don’t know how long I stayed in there when there was a knock at the door. All I know was that my eyes were red and puffy, and whoever was at the door would just have to wait.

“(Y/N)? It’s me, Spencer.” I didn’t reply, just held my breath hoping that he believed I was somewhere else. Where the hell else could I go?

“Can you open the door? Please?” No part of me wanted to face the man on the other side of the door. I knew what was waiting for me.

Disgust, and anger for lying to him for so long, for roping Spencer into a relationship without sharing a key component of myself as if I could keep it a secret for so long.

What did I expect in two months from now when Spencer wanted to take the next step? Was I just going to run and hide the way I did tonight? It was stupid, and cruel, and-

“Come on, let’s go watch A Clockwork Orange again.” Spencer Reid knew how to get my feet moving. I didn’t care how crazy I must look right now. If tonight was the last night I’ll be able to love him, what’s the point of trying to hide my distress?

But when I opened the door and fully expected Spencer to be red in the face, eyebrows furrowed over raging eyes, I was surprised to find a very different expression.

There he was, with that soft, awkward smile that made him look like the most adorable frog, handing me my coat like everything was right in the world.

I guess it was, because there he was, just being so authentically Spencer Reid.

“Let’s go home.” One obstacle: out of the way.

No matter how hard Spencer tried, the ride home was still awkwardly silent with the exception of the soft, classical music coming from the radio. I could feel the way my restless leg shook the car at stop lights, but he had the decency to pretend my anxious tendencies weren't so vicious.

It didn’t stop him from asking. “Are you okay?”

“What did he say to you?” I questioned right back. I wanted to know, needed to know, because if John’s sick smile wasn’t indicator enough, Spencer Reid just listened to my ex air out my dirty laundry.

“It’s not important what he said to me. I will wait an eternity for you to be ready to tell me. Now answer me, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” And it was the truth. I was okay, because Spencer wasn’t like John, he wasn’t like any other man, really.

Spencer Reid was gentle, pulling my flower from the ground with careful hands to make sure my roots came with it instead of selfishly breaking my stem, and watching me wither.

I knew he would never let me wither away, not alone at least.

“I’m asexual.” Spencer was silent for a moment, not taking his eyes off the road, until finally, after enough time for my leg to start bouncing again had passed, he spoke.

“Okay.” It was so authentically Spencer Reid, yet, I couldn’t stop my shocked expression.

“You- you’re not... mad?” At this point, Spencer had reached our apartment and as he was parking, he slammed the breaks harder than necessary, jolting me forward. I don’t know if he was trying to knock the thought out of my head, or if I finally struck a nerve, but he turned to look at me like I was preposterous.

“Why would I ever be mad about that? I’m not in this relationship expecting you to, uh, you know. You’re you, and that’s more than enough.” I didn’t realize I was crying until he reached over to brush away a tear with his thumb.

“I love you so much, and that includes everything about you.”

“I love you too, Spencer.” And it was the truth. I was so deeply in love with him that everything else in the world seemed so dull.

“A Clockwork Orange?” Spencer Reid knew just the thing to get me smiling again.

___

Join a taglist here Tell me your thoughts on this fic here Have a request? Send it in here

Requested by: @televisiondreamstomorrow

Taglist: @the-girl-who-writes-fanfiction @haylaansmi @masumiyetimziyanoldu @cielo1984 @rexorangecouny @username2002 @calm-and-doctor @pieceofried @mermaidshmari @missyoumaybank @everythingbutnormal @seasonfivereid @no-honey-no @muffin-cup

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jamiethetrans · 3 years ago

Text

The Defense - Ch 2

The One Where It Almost Happened.

Rita Calhoun x Fem!Reader

Warnings: huge age difference. Talk about physical abuse. Detailed descriptions of different kinds of toture.

AN: Hey everyone! Another one is up! And a long one! I Don’t know how long it is, but it sure is a lot! Though I’m not sure you’ll complain. I noticed I reached the 300 followers and I want to thank each and every one of you! Starting posting stories on tumblr was something I held back for a while, not sure how people would take it, but turns out I was nervous over nothing! Thank you so much for your support! Means the world to me!

- Jamie

•

“Goddammit”, Rita hissed as she hung up the phone and you turned to her in the car, looking at her distressed face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Special Victims just arrested mr. Carter. We need to go down there”, she said and turned to the driver. “Turn around Harry. 16th precinct, Manhattan”

The driver, Harry, turned the car the moment he could and drove towards the precinct.

“What the hell?”, Rita whispered and you were surprised you heard it over the screaming and shouting you were met with as you entered the squad room.

“You’re the reason my daughter’s dead!”, a man yelled, being held back by two officers, Amanda standing next to him.

“I never touched her!”, another man, mr. Carter yelled and both you and Rita noticed the blood running down from his nose. You didn’t know who the other man was and what had happened, but you had a pretty good guess.

“Shut up and take him away”, a man with a beard said and you watched as they took mr. Carter into interrogation.

“Okay why don’t you go and sit in here mr. Blevins”, Liv said and led the other man to a room next to her office.

“Come on”, Rita said and you felt a soft hand in your hip, letting you relax immediately. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone and Rita walked towards the interrogation where mr. Carter sat and you followed her silently.

“You mind telling me why my client is smothered in blood sergeant?”, Rita asked the moment she walked inside, the bearded man standing by the wall.

“Jennifer’s father found out about her suicide and came here and gave the guy a few punches”, he said with a smile on his face and mr. Carter eyed him angrily.

“Please, don’t feel so sad about it”, he joked. Rita rolled her eyes at him and turned to the sergeant. Without a word, the man left and closed the door behind him. You took a deep breath and looked at Rita who sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.

It took a few hours, but in the end, Carter decided to take the deal, statutory rape. Four years, and a $10.000 fine but it was far less than he could’ve had with the murder charge.

You admitted it was not what you had expected when you decided to pursue your career in law. You had imagined taking in buglers and grand theft, maybe some homicide, but sexual abuse and child molestation had never been on your list.

When Sonny had told you about his new job at Special Victims back in the day when he was still a detective, you’ll admit you were intrigued and a little impressed, but that was because he was fighting the bad guys.

You were fighting the good guys and you felt so disgusted with yourself. This was definitely not how you had imagined your time in New York, and definitely not already on your first day.

You stood in the hallway, waiting for Rita to finish up the paperwork and you looked at the photos hanging on the wall. Former captains and sergeants from way back in the days. You noticed one in particular.

Sergeant Mike Dodds 1978-2016

You remembered back to when Sonny told you about what happened to the guy. A DB call that got out of hand.

“You alright?”

You almost jumped on the spot, completely forgotten where you were. You turned and met Sonny’s eyes, his brows furrowed in worry.

“Yeah I’m just… God I couldn’t imagine losing a kid like that”

Sonny could see the tear fall down your cheek and walked closer to you, bringing his arm around your body. “Ya need to go home?”

You immediately shook your head, removing the tear with your hand and looked down at all the files you held for Rita. “I can’t. I need to stay and help Rita”

Sonny nodded and watched you dry your eyes just in time to hear the heels walking closer. “De Luca, you ready?”, Rita asked and you nodded giving her a tight smile. Sonny eyed you for a moment, making sure you would be fine before turning to the defense attorney.

“Yeah miss Calhoun”

“Good. Let’s go to my office. We have a few things to discuss”

You nodded and turned to Sonny who leaned in and kissed your forehead. It reminded you of the days where you would visit him with your mom. “See ya Sunday”

You let out a small chuckle and hugged him tight. “See you Sunday”

Sonny smiled and watched as you took the elevator with Rita. Rita noticed your interaction and once the doors closed, she took the opportunity to let her curiosity get the best of her.

“You’re quite familiar with mr. Carisi”, she said and you turned to her, not expecting the remark.

“What?”

“You and mr. Carisi. You’re pretty close”, she said again.

“Oh. Yeah, he’s my brother”

That was not what Rita had expected. You did not look alike at all, the age difference was significant and you certainly didn’t sound like him either.

“Yeah. I get that face a lot”, you said noticing how surprised she was. “Same mom, different dads”

“I see your mother has a weakness for Italian men”, she commented and you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling.

“Yeah… yeah I guess she does”

The rest of the way to her office was silent and you somehow found yourself enjoying the silence with her. Most people you met had this awkward silence aroma around them and you cringed every time you had to be alone with them, but with Rita it was different.

She made everything so comfortable and calm. It had been a long time since you met someone who had that aroma, and it was nice for a change.

Once in the office, Rita around her desk, instantly looking down in the files you had placed on the desk. “Alright, first case over. You’ve done good. You obviously know what you’re doing and talking about. And somehow despite all of the things we’ve seen, you seem to enjoy it. I’m impressed”

“Thank you. I do enjoy it yeah”, you said softly and she smiled at you.

“I’m glad to hear that. Not every person would”

“Yeah, I guess I’m just different”, you said and Rita nodded.

“You definitely are”

You gave her a smile and she sat down in her seat, motioning for you to do the same in the chair in front of the desk, which you immediately did.

“If you want to continue being my assistant, I need to make sure you’re capable of actually following rules”

You frowned at her for a moment, not sure if she was joking or not. “I will not se slouching, laughing in inappropriate situations, your clothing must be nicely dressed at all times you’re with me, skirt or pants, your choice”

You listened carefully to all of her rules, and hell there were many. “If you can’t remember them all, it’s in the contract”

You nodded and Rita looked at you. You felt your heart pound. “Now that, that is over, tell me about yourself”, she said leaning back in the chair.

“Well I was born in Boston, lived and grew up alone with my ma”

“You didn’t live with mr. Carisi?”

“God no. Sonny was nineteen when I was born. He had already moved out by the time my ma found out she was pregnant with me”, you explained and Rita nodded taking the information in.

“And your interest in law, when did that start?”

“When I was in 6th grade. Sonny told me about the day he started at the precinct as a detective. He was so proud”, you said remembering how amazed you were by his description of the job.

“6th grade? When did he start?”

“2014 if I remember correctly”, you said and Rita frowned.

“You’ve must’ve skipped a few classes then, if I’m not mistaken”, she said pulling out a file from her drawer and you instantly recognized it as your file.

“I did yeah. I basically skipped entire middle school, starting in high school right after elementary”

Rita raised her eyebrows in surprise and you smiled in pride. “Really? I could imagine the high school students when they saw a 13 year old starting”

“12 actually”, you corrected her softly and she chuckled.

“Wow you are one of a kind aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, I guess so”

Rita smirked and looked down at your file once again. You sat in silence for a few minutes, her reading your file like it was her favorite book and you could swore you saw her smile.

“A GPA scale of 4.0 with 99 percent. That’s impressive”, she commented. You gave a tight smile and a nod and Rita noticed how your attitude immediately changed. “You’re not satisfied?”

“I’m satisfied, I just…”, you didn’t know how to explain it without sounding like a spoiled brat.

“It’s okay darling, tell me”

Something in her voice made you feel you could tell her anything and everything and not a single sound of judgement would come your way.

“I wanted to beat the highest GPA Harvard had ever had. But I only got 99. Someone got 100 and they wouldn’t give me a name”

You heard a small chuckle and looked up meeting Rita’s eyes. Without a word she reached in the drawer before standing from her seat. You frowned at her movement and watched as she walked around the desk and leaned against it right in front of you.

She gave you the file and you hesitantly opened it. Once it was fully open, you looked down and read Rita’s name on the top. You read further down and suddenly a gasp escaped your lips, looking up at her.

“You?”

Rita gave a nod with a smirk forming on her face and you smiled looking back down in the file. It was nothing but A+ after A+ all the way down the paper, in every subject.

“This is impressive”, you whispered and she chuckled sitting down in the other chair next to you.

“What subject didn’t you get A+?”

You froze, not sure if you wanted to answer that and Rita noticed. “If you don’t want to answer, you don’t–“

“Economics. Hated it with all my gut”, you said. Rita actually laughed at that and that strange pounding of your heart began again, making you realize what was happening.

You were falling for her.

•

As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, you heard footsteps running towards you and a smile crossed your face.

“Hi Gio”, you whispered and greeted him with a hug. The dog licked your face, but sensed your sadness and cuddled up against you.

“You’re home late”, a voice said and you looked up and met Sonny’s eyes. You sighed and stood from the floor, immediately bringing your arms around him in a tight hug and the man felt himself worry. “Everything alright?”

You nodded but didn’t say anything and despite still feeling the worry, he nodded and let it be for now. “I made ya some dinner, it’s in the fridge”, he said pulling back and you gave him a soft smile with a nod.

“Thanks D”

Sonny was about to say something else when his phone rang. He picked it up and you already knew who it was. It was quickly over and he turned to you as soon as he hung up. “I gotta go. Are you okay? You need anything?”

You shook your head and hugged him one last time. “It’s fine. Go”

He nodded and kissed your forehead before leaving the apartment. You let out deep sigh and went to the couch, sitting down. Gio immediately got on top on you and you chuckled softly, stroking his hair.

“Is it nice boy, hhmm?”

He let out a small bark and you chuckled. That certainly would not change anytime soon. Your mind wandered back to the last two days and you groaned as you kept coming back to Rita.

God why was it so difficult?! She was just a woman. Nothing else. Why were your heart pounding every time she smiled, laughed or even just spoke? Why did you blush every time she looked at you?

You groaned out in frustration and Gio noticed it immediately making you chuckle. “I’m fine boy. Don’t worry”

He nudged his head closer to your chin and you smiled, kissing his head.

•

The rest of the week went by fast, rapist after rapist coming into Rita’s office and asking her to represent them. Some of them were actually decent human beings, just being misunderstood, but most of them were generally just a disgusting pig.

Rita hadn’t exactly gone any less gorgeous and that frustrated you. Immensely. She was your boss! You couldn’t go around and have a crush on your boss. It’s just not how things work.

Nothing good came out of it. Especially with your age as well. Sure you may be mature for your age but she might not see that. All she probably sees is an 18 year old girl who skipped middle school.

Wednesday was a quick day, a man walking in with an accusation of raping his own wife. Rita had told you how many wives accused their husbands of raping them, when they threaten to leave them and wouldn’t leave a penny to survive.

This man was one of this victims and it was quickly discovered by the end of the day. That night you and Rita sat in the offices, a cup of coffee in each your hand.

She told you about her time at Harvard, how she had taken the boys and the parties. It was then she revealed she played on both sides which had made you blush furiously.

“What? Weren’t expecting that answer?”, she had asked with a smug on her face and she had touched your arm lightly, caressing it. Whether it was intentional or not, you did not know.

And when you had told, you were only into girls, you could have sworn you saw her pupils dilate.

Thursday, you needed to find a way to save a man on death penalty. He had captured and held women prisoners for more than three decades, raping and torturing them.

“This is the most disgusting thing ever”, you had said and Rita couldn’t help but agree. Normally you weren’t soft for those kind of things, taking it all like a champ.

But when the videos of the torture of the women were discovered and given to both the prosecution and defense, it was then you broke.

Rita had given you the task of looking the videos over and see if you could find anything useful. The first couple of videos were of him torturing the woman with plastic bags over their head, strangling them over and over again.

One of them he raped one of the women while she was screaming and shouting at him to stop, him slapping her so hard she passed out. The video never showed her waking up again.

But the hardest one was a woman sitting in a bathtub, several electric wires going from massive energy boxes and around her body and in the tub. The woman was sitting in the tub, screaming and shouting in pain as the wires shocked her over and over again.

The screams were the most terrifying thing you’ve ever heard. Rita had stopped you the moment she watched you cry in front of the computer screen.

“Y/n” She shut down the computer and sat down next to you, immediately pulling you into a hug, holding you tight. You may be mature for your age and braver than most, but you were still 18.

“It’s okay darling. It’s okay”

You cried harder into her shoulder, letting her hold you. It had taken you good ten minutes to calm down and once you were relaxed, you fell asleep against her, feeling save in her arms.

That night Rita gave you dinner and drove you home. Making sure twice that you were okay before leaving you alone.

You didn’t sleep that night, the screams filling your mind.

You were absolutely drained when Friday rolled in and you were going out with your friends to a bar. It had been weeks since you last drank, and you couldn’t need it more. Not since the videos yesterday.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?”, Rita asked as you sat in her office going over some paper work for the upcoming trial. She noticed you had pulled out your phone as it vibrated. She was glad to see you smile again after yesterday’s horror and she found herself liking the smile.

“Oh it’s my best friend, Jasmin. We’re going to a friend, who’s having a party”, you explained and Rita smiled.

“Well be careful out there. Wouldn’t want to lose my best assistant before her first week is over”

You chuckled and shook your head. “Don’t worry, I will”

Truth be told, you were very excited to get out of the world of law and drink your ass off. Though you knew you weren’t old enough to drink, you still did it anyway.

“How are you feeling? After yesterday?”, Rita suddenly asked, placing her hand on top of yours on the desk and you sighed looking down.

“I’m… fine. I’m fine, really”

Rita nodded and watched you for a moment, looking down at your hands on the desk. You felt your heart pound at the touch while Rita felt herself becoming more and more confused. Why were these feelings suddenly coming up? And of all people, why would the feelings come up around you?

•

That night when Jasmin arrived at your apartment, you both got ready before heading to the party together.

You took a taxi and once there you immediately knew where the party was. The house was full of people, the front yard already filled with people. Some younger, some older.

“This is amazing!”, Jasmin said, a huge smile on her face and you chuckled. “Let’s try and find Brent”, she said and you recognized the name as the boy who held the party.

You walked inside and the house was as huge inside as well as outside. “Hey girls! Glad you could make it!”, a voice said and you both turned to see Brent coming towards you.

He hugged you both, before walking over to a table, taking two drinks. “Here you go, party up!”

You took the glasses but quickly stopped Jasmin before she could take a sip. “What?”

“We don’t know where those drinks have been. Anyone could have touched them or put something in it. We will make our own drinks”, you said and threw them in the dish.

“I got booze”, you said and pulled out a vodka bottle and two RedBulls.

“Damn girls you’re ready”, Jasmin chuckled and you started the party.

•

Sonny walked into the precinct, his bag in his hand and greeted Kat and Amanda by their desks. “Hey, what did the judge say?”, Amanda asked as she stood from her seat and Carisi leaned down, kissing her softly, her hand lightly covering his cheek.

Kat smiled at the kiss, happy to see her friends finally together. “Luckily he denied the bail. Jackson isn’t getting out anytime soon”, he said and the two defectives let out breaths of relief.

“What about–“

“Alright I want all hands on deck!”, Liv suddenly said as she and Fin came out of the office.

“Cap what’s going on?”, Rollins asked and Liv turned to her.

“Just got a call about a rape at a party down at the suburbs. Fin and Rollins you go with, Kat stay here in case anyone comes in”

“Yes Captain”

•

You drank more than you probably should’ve. But you enjoyed it. You and Jasmin drank more and more as time went by.

You stood at one of the bars in the backyard with a drink in your hand. You didn’t know where Jasmin was, but right now you didn’t care. Right now you were looking at some of the girls playing in pool.

“Wow that looks nice!”, a boy came up and said and you found yourself nodding. “And the look right here, doesn’t look too bad either. I’m Daniel”, he then said, flirtation in his voice. You rolled your eyes placing your drink on the bar before turning to him.

“You’re cute, but not my type”, you said and Daniel stood tall, looking down at you. It was obvious he was drunk. Very drunk.

“At what’s the matter huh? I’m not man enough for you?”

You chuckled shaking your head. “Oh no that’s exactly the opposite. You’re too man”

You went back to your drink and downed it before leaving the bar and boy behind, Daniel smirking as he watched you leave.

He turned his head and met his mate’s eyes who nodded and the followed you to the bathroom.

The moment you reached the hallway, you felt your head turn a thousand times. You’re vision started to blur, and you felt yourself almost falling asleep immediately.

“Wow are you okay?”, a voice asked and you felt an arm around you, another from the other side. “Let’s get you to a room”, they said and you felt yourself lose control of your body.

You ended in a room and they placed you on the bed, closing the door. “Hehe let’s go. Alright you go first”, Daniel’s friend said and Daniel laughed and opened his pants.

Suddenly the door bursted open and Jasmin walked in. “What the hell is happening here?!”

She was pissed. Absolutely pissed. Here her best friend laid, obviously drugged and completely out of it. “Wow take it easy girl, we were just having fun”, Daniel said and Jasmin looked at the boy.

“You call this having fun?! Raping an unconscious girl?! Get out before I call the police!”, she yelled and people began to come to the room, hearing the screaming.

“What’s going on?”, Brent came and asked and Jasmin turned to him.

“Some of your friends were about to rape my best friend. What a party!”, she yelled and Brent frowned and turned to his friends who stared back at him.

“We were just having fun”, Daniel’s friend said and Brent hardened his eyes.

But before he could say anything. Sirens were heard and they looked at each other. “The cops are here?”, Jasmin asked and Brent turned to Daniel and his friend.

“You two stay here”, he said and left the room. Jasmin walked over to you, turning you onto your back and looked at your face.

“Y/n? Y/n wake up”

She heard the doors open to the house and two women told everyone to get out. Footsteps were heard and a woman stepped in. Jasmin looked at her. Definitely a detective. The moment the detective saw you on the bed, she froze.

“Shit”, she whispered and looked around at the others. “What happened here?!”

“They were about to rape my best friend when I came in!”, Jasmin immediately said and the two boys started defending themselves.

“Alright you two, up against the wall”, she said and walked towards them, before pulling out her walkie talkie. “Liv, we got a situation”, she said into it. “Down the hall”

A few seconds later, Liv stepped in and saw the two boys against the wall. “Rollins wha–“, she stopped as Amanda nodded towards the bed and Liv turned and saw you laying unconscious.

“Oh no”, she said pulling out her walkie talkie.

“Calling central, I need a bus now!”, she called and ran over to the bed, feeling your pulse point. It was there but very faint.

“God please don’t die, Carisi will kill me”, she whispered and called into the walkie talkie. “Fin come to the master bedroom down the hall”

A few seconds Fin came in and saw you on the bed. “Oh fuck”

“I know, I know, let’s just get her out of here”

Fin walked over and took you into his arms. “Oh man Carisi is gonna kill her”

Jasmin watched as they carried you out and Liv walked over and cuffed Daniel’s friend, walking them out.

----------

@storiesofsvu @multifandomlesbianic

#law and order svu #rita calhoun #rita calhoun x reader #reader #reader insert #elizabeth marvel #the defense #age difference #JamieTheTrans

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nejibaby · 4 years ago

Text

Gorgeous

Pairings: Neji x Y/N

Song reference/inspiration: Gorgeous by Taylor Swift

Summary: You hate Neji… or do you?

A/N: I didn’t know what came over me please don’t sue 🤣 Please let me know your thoughts, although I couldn’t really reply since this isn’t my main blog... (I just really like reading your comments & reblogs 🥺)

You always thought the gods above adore you because of how lucky you are. For years of being a shinobi, you’re able to go on missions without that certain someone.

Everyone knows that you dislike Neji. Some might even go far and say you hate him. But no one really knew why you hated him with so much passion.

So when you’ve been assigned on a mission with him for the first time, your friends — with the exception of Hinata —immediately know you’d invite them for drinks to get piss drunk and rant about the Hyuga boy.

When you arrive at the bar, you wasted no time ordering drinks and downing them one by one.

“Woah, slow down Y/N!” Sakura says.

“Let her be, Sakura. You know how she gets when Neji is involved,” Ino tells Sakura, “No words are going to stop her, might as well just look over her.”

Sakura gives her a frown then slips in glasses of water in between the drinks you had lined up.

“Ugh, I hate this! Why do I even have to be assigned with him?” You complain.

Ino sighs, “It was bound to happen anyway, with the shortage of shinobis from the back-to-back attacks here in Konoha, and all that. You’ve been lucky you hadn’t been assigned on missions with him for this long.”

You huff. “The gods hate me so much.”

Ino just rolls her eyes at you.

“Why do you hate Neji so much anyway?” Sakura asks.

You take a shot before answering. “Have you heard how he talks? He’s always talking about destinies and fates and how we can’t change them!”

Sakura and Ino look at each other. Then Sakura says, “I don’t know what year you live in, but Neji has changed ever since he met Naruto.”

“—And besides that,” you continue your rant, “He’s such a know-it-all. And he just always has to explain everything to us like we don’t understand anything.”

“I mean he’s really good at analyzing things and breaking them down for us so we can follow the reasoning behind things,” Sakura says in defense of the poor man.

“Shikamaru is just the same but I don’t see you hating on him,” Ino adds.

You pay no mind to their statements, knowing they’re probably right but you weren’t just going to admit that. “—And he always sounds so bossy! Everyone looks up to him and heeds his words. It’s like he has this magnetic field that attracts people and shit. It’s so fucking annoying!”

Ino and Sakura were both about to say something about your statements but no words came out despite them opening their mouths. You squint at them, a contrast to the way their eyes had widened.

“What?” You ask.

“I think we should talk, you’re being a little too loud,” someone behind you says.

You bite the inside of your cheeks, knowing who that voice belongs to. You feel your face getting hot — from the embarrassment or from the alcohol, you weren’t sure. You clear your throat, look behind you and greet, “Neji.” You try to make your voice sound friendly, but you were so used to saying his name laced with venom that it’s just impossible for you to sound amicable.

He’s taken aback by the hostility in your voice. He’s aware of your hatred towards him so he tries not to bother you with his presence but you’re talking too loudly about him that it was becoming uncomfortable to him. Besides, you two are going to go on a mission together, it’s better to resolve things between the two of you right now, or at least before the mission starts.

Neji knows he hasn’t done anything to wrong you and as far as he’s concerned, both of you never talked to each other yet so he wasn’t really sure why you despised him so much, until now, that is.

He holds his hand out for you to help you stand. How gentlemanly, you wanted to sneer but you stopped yourself. Instead, you clench your fists and glare at him.

When you don’t make a move to stand up, he gently grabs a hold of your hand and tugs you towards the exit of the bar. You’re too shocked by the action that you didn’t get to protest. You know damn well Neji avoids physical contact with everyone, except during training, of course.

By the time you’re both out of the bar, you aim a punch at him. But with your drunkenness, you miss. That, and he easily dodged it.

“What are you doing?!” Neji asks, surprised by your action.

“You should think about the consequence of touching my hand.”

His brows furrow, trying to understand you. He doesn’t want to make things worse so he chooses to apologize instead.

You don’t respond, opting to lean back against the wall and cross your arms instead, considering your abrupt movement made your head feel dizzy. You tried not to wince at the pounding of your head. God forbid you’d let him see any weakness in you.

Then you take a look at Neji who seems to have shifted to a more relaxed stance after your unexpected attack. Seeing this, you try to collect yourself as well. Or at least as much as your drunk mind can.

Neji takes your silence as a signal to talk. “We’ve known each other for so long now because we have the same circle of friends, but we never really got to talk to each other until now,” he starts. “I have seen you interact with everyone except me. At first it did not really bother me, but then I found out you hated me. In order to avoid unnecessary arguments or whatsoever, I let you be and kept my distance. I did not understand why, until I heard you talking a while ago—”

There was something unnerving about his lavender eyes staring at you so intently that must’ve made your mind short circuit, so you cut him off and blurt out, “You should take that as a compliment.”

To say that Neji is confused is an understatement. The creases on his forehead deepen at your declaration. “What do you mean?”

You close your eyes and just shrug. Your mind wasn’t cooperating with you so you’d rather just not talk. You keep silent for a whole minute meanwhile Neji waits until you speak again. When the minute passes and he still hasn’t said a word, you ask, “Why don’t you just go back to Tenten or something?”

That sounded wrong.

Frankly, that wasn’t what you plan on saying, but your inebriated mind couldn’t comprehend what you just said and its possible implication.

If other people were to listen to your conversation right now, they would probably assume that you were jealous, or maybe even insecure with Tenten, but Neji was different from other people. Luckily for you, you both share a similar way of thinking. He knows you’re trying to deflect.

“Tenten’s your girlfriend, right?” You couldn’t stop your mouth from blabbering anymore.

“No. She’s a friend.”

This was news to you. You always assumed they were together since they spend a huge amount of time with each other.

“So you’re single?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh, that’s honestly worse,” you thought. Or at least you intended it to be just a thought but you ended up saying it out loud.

Neji doesn’t know if he should be offended by your statement or not. Was it worse because no one’s going to keep him in line? Shouldn’t you be glad no one’s going to suffer the fate of being his girlfriend? Those were definitely something you’d say. But he’s uncertain, so he pushed those thoughts aside, knowing full well you weren’t going to answer him properly if he asked the meaning behind your words.

Since you’re so keen on changing the subject regarding your hatred for him when he’s obviously trying hard to make amends with you, he decides to just drop it and talk to you when you’re completely sober. “Is Kiba going to come get you?”

“Why should he?” It was your turn to furrow your brows.

“You’re drunk and he’s your boyfriend.”

You snort. If he said you were seeing Kiba then you definitely wouldn’t deny it and you’d shut your mouth. You aren’t in a relationship with him, or maybe you are, if friends-with-benefits is considered a relationship. So Kiba is in no way your boyfriend — that label entails commitment and of course, love. However, your setup with Kiba was more of an agreement rather than a commitment and instead of romantic love, there was only love for a friend.

To correct him you say, “He’s not really my boyfriend.”

Neji was never one to assume unless there’s a basis. He knows this about himself. So when you deny your relationship with Kiba, he was skeptical, and a smaller part of him was ashamed that he reached such a conclusion without asking first.

It only goes to show that you both have wrong preconceptions about each other, and that you both have a lot to learn about one another.

“Ah, sorry. I thought—”

“It’s fine,” you wave him off.

Neji’s eye twitches. You cut him off twice now and he doesn’t appreciate it at all. He’s a very patient man and it takes a lot to get a rise out of him or maybe even get a reaction. But you had him shift from being apologetic to confused to ashamed and then to being annoyed in a matter of minutes.

Surely this wasn’t normal, right? What kind of power do you hold that you could make him easily shift moods? For a moment, he considers the possibility of you casting a genjutsu on him but quickly dismisses the thought when he senses that your chakra flow is normal.

You quickly notice his annoyance and you immediately feel bad for your actions. “‘M sorry,” you mumble with a pout, looking down on your feet.

The apology softens the Hyuga boy immediately. He’s never really heard you address him so sincerely and without malice all throughout this conversation, or ever. But he’s seen you do this with your other friends; he’s seen you readily set aside your pride for them. Your friends admittedly claimed that this was one of your traits that makes you so special whenever they tried coaxing him to talk to you and befriend you.

Unexpectedly, Neji smiles. It was truly a rare sight, and it was directed to you. You feel your heart flutter.

“I-I should, uhm, head home,” you internally cringe at the way you stuttered the words.

“What about Ino and Sakura?”

“Ah, I’m pretty sure they’ve gone ahead when I left.”

“And Kiba won’t pick you up?”

“Nope. He’s somewhere doing god knows what.”

Neji gives a contemplative stare.

“Anyway, I think you already know that we won’t be able to talk properly since I’m drunk, so I’ll go now. Let’s talk some other time, I guess. Bye!” You say a little too fast.

“Wait! Let me walk you home.”

You huff. “Do whatever you want.”

Silence follows after that. You’re particularly happy that the walk to your home is quick since you aren’t sure how to act around Neji.

He walks you until the door and you quickly mumble a thanks and shut the door.

As soon as the door is shut, you immediately slump to the floor, dropping your facade along the way.

The fact of the matter is that you don’t hate Neji. It’s quite the opposite actually. You just don’t know how to express your feelings properly.

For a moment you wish you could be like Hinata who’s content at watching Naruto from the sidelines. You, however, instead of feeling content, you’re furious. Because there’s nothing you hate more than what you can’t have. And this is what your face chooses to express whenever Neji is around, which is why you couldn’t blame your friends or other people for that matter when they assumed you hated him. You just went along with them, to save face.

The white lie was furthered by their observation that you don’t talk to him. To your defense, it’s not that you don’t want to talk to him, it’s just that you can’t. Your mind literally goes haywire.

Just like in your conversation earlier. When you first cut him off, and blurted out the first thing on your mind.

You should take that as a compliment.

What your mind wanted to say is: You should take that as a compliment because even when I’m drunk, it’s you I keep on thinking about.

Not to mention how embarrassing it was when you asked if he’s single and thought that that was so much worse than being in a relationship. Because how can he be allowed to be single when he’s just so gorgeous it actually hurts?

You bang your head against the door a couple of times in frustration.

Unbeknownst to you, Neji is still standing on the other side of the door, dumbfounded by how fast you shut it in front of his face. Just as he’s about to walk away, he hears a whack on the door. His mind immediately assumes you got hurt. As he raises his hand to knock on your door, he stills at the sound of your voice.

“Stupid Neji and his stupidly gorgeous face, ruining my life by not being mine.”

#neji #neji hyuga #neji hyuuga #neji hyuga x reader #neji hyuuga x reader #neji x reader #neji x y/n #neji x you #neji fanfic #neji fanfiction #neji fluff #hyuga neji #hyuuga neji #naruto #naruto fluff #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #naruto shippuden

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