#i actually kind of hate this whole fic but i finished it as much as i wanted to so i'm posting it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsbarnesblog · 11 months ago

Text

Tattoo

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader

Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.

Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘

“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off.

“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach.

You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse.

“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that.

But you were so wrong.

As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint.

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug.

“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.

"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky...

Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath.

Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself.

Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn.

He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing.

He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person.

“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile.

And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk.

You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.

You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head.

“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot.

“Thank you.” You almost whispered.

Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.

You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo.

To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes.

“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away.

“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness.

“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”

Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.

“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.

“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”

“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it.

"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke?

Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session.

“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there.

“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.”

“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you.

The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over.

You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor.

“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected.

“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it.

“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”

“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.”

“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.

“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop.

“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again.

Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything.

You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes.

“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.

“No!”

“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one.

“I can do it myself!”

You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged.

Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest.

“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.

Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss.

He was good at it.

No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself.

“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.

You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop.

God, he must be big.

Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly?

“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.

“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.

"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question.

Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs.

Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot.

“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?”

“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.”

“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"

Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment.

“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do.

“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”

“Loosers.”

“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”

“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.

“Okay.”

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.

With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died.

Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch.

Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.”

"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips.

You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you.

The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed.

You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time.

You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.”

“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold.

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong.

"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?"

“I do.”

Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips.

Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs.

Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer.

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there.

Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip.

“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing.

With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress.

“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.

“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails.

“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time.

“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues.

When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside.

He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life.

Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could.

“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.

“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away.

“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”

“I want to cum. Let me, please.”

“Good fucking girl.”

Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder.

You both felt how close you were.

Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.

“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple.

“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.

Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…

“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you.

“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session.

“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.”

“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky x y/n #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfic

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saetoru · 1 year ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good.

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left.

and then satoru wins.

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead.

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure.

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware.

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place.

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it.

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free.

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair.

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared.

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on.

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close.

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper.

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?”

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for.

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore.

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down.

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were.

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself.

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever.

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why.

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought.

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare.

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature.

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again.

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face.

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high.

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath.

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause.

and then you remember.

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru.

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have.

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again.

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh.

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself.

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close.

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness.

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night.

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans.

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest.

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room.

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry.

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly.

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not.

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen.

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast.

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between.

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace.

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile.

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart.

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name.

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles.

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away.

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment.

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years.

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do.

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you.

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru.

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had.

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him.

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind.

his breath hitches.

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror.

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms.

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened.

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him.

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance.

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to.

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention.

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence.

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them.

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them.

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to.

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down.

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it.

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself.

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life.

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in.

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you.

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin.

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for.

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you?

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it.

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life?

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him.

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal.

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score.

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous.

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort.

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good.

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off.

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think.

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles.

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it.

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug.

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed.

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place.

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look.

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch.

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes.

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this.

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room.

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook.

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again.

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind.

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks.

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left.

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good.

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence.

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away.

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow.

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation.

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too.

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes.

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too.

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?”

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever.

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive.

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy.

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru.

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little.

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled.

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises.

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough.

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink.

finally, for once, you’re enough.

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering.

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much.

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum.

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

#teepods.writings #fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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yongvillage · 10 months ago

Text

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@yongvillage | thank you for reading!

#svt smut #svt x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you

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boyfhee · 6 months ago

Text

ㅤ ꣑୧ㅤㅤ:ㅤCANDLELITㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ성혼

﹙10097﹚ SYNOPSIS . . . the dating scene sucks, especially when the only person you want to be with is your roommate.

꣑୧ GENRE . . . roommate au, 'i hate them but they're hot' kind of energy

꣑୧ WARNINGS . . . profanities, drinking i mean lots of drinking we need alcohol shortage here, sunghoon smokes, mentions of one night stands, one very suggestive make out scene in the fourth section, undertones of cheating but not from sunghoon or reader, implications of sex although it's very light

꣑୧ NOTES . . . hi ( _ _; ) drowning in nervousness as i'm posting this. it's my first long fic after months ... i think the last one was in may or june 23 ... so please be nice >< don't know why but this didn't turn out how i wanted it to and it's definitely not one of my proudest works, but i hope u guys like it nonetheless huhu TT happy reading and please rb and drop feedback, it's highly appreciated ^_^

001. WHERE THERE’S HEAVEN THERE’S HELL

sunghoon is spiralling again.

a part of it is because of the endless assignments from classes, but that’s no news. he knows it’s his fault for procrastinating and waiting till two days before the due date to even think about working on them— unlike jake who somehow attends classes probably four times a week and is seen in the football fields instead, and still manages to be the first one to submit his essays. it’s admirable, annoying at most. when he sat down to do his sports science project three days before it was due, sunghoon realised why his professor gave them two months to finish it.

but realising your mistakes and working on them to be a better version of yourself are two different things.

for one, sunghoon believes those assignments are useless. no one cares about the impact of sports on society, maybe except heeseung and jake but again, in sunghoon’s mind, those two are never important. second, he’s too perfect to be working on himself. sunghoon is the best version of himself. he was born the day his uncle died, and his dad inherited the entire chain of restaurants his family owns across the country. he’s too amazing to be worrying about getting a degree he can buy— he thinks the university should be honoured he’s choosing to study— but that’s simply because his mother doesn’t want him to turn out like his sister.

back to the matter at hand— as he puts the beer can on the table and sits back on the couch, his eyes travel to the door yet again. seventh time in just a minute, he’s keeping a record of how you make him wait.

if there’s one thing he hates is being irresponsible ( coming from the great king of irresponsibility himself. ) you said you’d be back by twelve, and it’s half past one in night and not a soul knows your whereabouts. thirteen texts, seven missed calls, his phone is at forty-one percent and sunghoon is at his limit. if it wasn’t for your mom he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about where you are and how you’ve been.

sunghoon is actually surprisingly obedient and well-mannered, as opposed to the popular belief. he gave you and your mother the whole tour of the apartment the day you moved in. even made some coffee which isn’t much but your mother had loved him. he could see it in the way she looked at him with those sweet eyes, holding his hands as if he was her own son, and asking him to look after you.

‘please take care of my daughter,’ sunghoon thought he was getting married. instead of a wedding bell there were warning sirens going off. to this day he doesn’t know why she asked him that, minutes after she saw a dead cactus in the balcony that he killed by overwatering. he couldn’t even say no to her and just nodded, looking over at you briefly and noticing how you look like you were a bit embarrassed. sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s so serious about ‘taking care’ of you. he thought it would be easy, but you had to be devil’s favourite spawn and sunghoon happens to be your target.

however, he can’t take this anymore. he has a morning class and waiting till two am while drinking beer has done more damage to sunghoon than it should. he gets up from the couch with a sigh, leaving the empty cans unattended for a night as he makes a mental note to clean tomorrow. it isn’t until a click from the door stops him in his tracks.

“i’m back,” your voice is quiet, a yawn following immediately after your words as you look down while taking off your shoes. you’ve been drinking again, sunghoon can tell it from a mile away.

“you’re late,” he speaks over the silence, hands on his torso as he’s giving you those squinted eyes and doubtful looks. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he would assume you fucked someone at the club with how messy you look at the moment.

“yeah well, we had to take gigi to the hospital,” your lazy voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. you stumble towards your room, a hiccup followed soon after by the same quiet and slurred tone. “she ate something weird,”

he huffs at your words, knowing it would very well be just another excuse. “you could’ve at least texted,”

“my phone died,”

“i’m sure your friends would be happy to lend you their phone,” he pauses when he feels himself getting a bit annoyed. a soft sigh falls off his lips as he looks down at the tiled floor before looking up and speaking in a much calmer voice. “i’m just saying it’s not exactly safe to be out alone on the streets this late at night,”

“i wasn’t alone,” that piques his interest. “jay drove me back,”

and sunghoon felt his whole world stop. “jay?”

“yeah, jay, park jongseong,” your voice is surprisingly sweet when you take his name and it bothers sunghoon for some reason. his face scrunches up when you bite back a smile, hoping it’s the alcohol not because of what he thinks it is. “he’s nicer than i thought,”

sunghoon is not unfamiliar with the name park jongseong.

he hears it every day on and off the campus, more often than he likes. first things first, he’s just as popular as jake, for being american, which brings sunghoon to the question— why in the world would he leave america to study in korea when jay could have attended one of the ivy leagues with his face and money?

and the second and more important question, why in the world is park jongseong dropping you home at two in the night?

sunghoon only watches you in disbelief and astonishment as you stumble to your room, mumbling something incoherently. your words ring in his ear like sirens. ‘he is better than you’ jay is better than sunghoon. he scoffs almost offensively in your direction. that has to be the biggest lie of the twenty-first century.

he follows you to your room, reaching out to grab your arms when you almost trip but you manage to balance yourself. he opens the door and turns on the lights for you. “why were you with him to begin with?”

“oh, you don’t know?” and you turn around with eyes wide open as he shakes his head like a deer in the headlight. “he asked me out,”

sunghoon didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night.

it’s your fault, clearly. had you been back earlier on the time, nothing would’ve happened. and jay— sunghoon sights at the thought of him, eyes narrowing as he grits on his pen as if he’s going to break it into two.

“dude, are you hungry?” jake pokes sunghoon by his shoulder, dragging the latter out of his trail of thoughts.

“what?” sunghoon shoots a blank look, one that makes his friend sigh in concern. afterall, it’s not everyday he sees sunghoon chewing on a pen. “i’m not,”

“you’ve been out of it since the morning,”

and sunghoon has been out of it since jay’s name fell from your lips.

he’s not your friend, definitely not the first guy you’ve called by his name after sunghoon. but something doesn’t sit right. even after tossing and turning in bed for the whole night, he can’t figure out what bothers him more— the fact you said jay is better than him, or the fact that he asked you out on a date.

it’s the first one, he convinces himself. who you date is none of his business, he can’t be arsed enough to care about your love life or relationship status. ( although, he does care a little because he’s nosy. ) what bothers him more is that jay is, to put it in simple words, a player. all that face and no empathy for emotions is a waste, and to think you don’t know this— or maybe you do and yet still chose to go out with him, is beyond sunghoon’s comprehension.

“what do you think about jay?” he asks abruptly, catching jake’s attention, looking at him a little too intently for an answer.

“he’s a nice guy,” a casual reply before he gets back to his assignment before jake looks back at sunghoon with newly found interest. “he turned in my spanish essay last week, oh and drove me back from the bar a few days ago after you ditched me. why?”

sunghoon simply shakes his head, getting back to his books even though his focus is nowhere near studies. at this point, he doesn’t know if it’s jay distracting him or you. even your words keep playing over and over again in the back of his head. jay and nice in the same sentence doesn’t seem fit. sure, he helps his friends and drops his girl back home, but that’s only three days before there’s a new girl in his arms.

002. RUNNING OUT OF SANITY

sunghoon doesn’t hear the door click open when you come back from your classes, too busy in the balcony while humming a tune that you recognise immediately. you take off your shoes, noticing how he taps his foot along with the melody, and it’s quiet in the apartment, apart from the sound of traffic and wind rustling through the trees around.

“i don’t like people who smoke,” smoking is not on your list of likes, but you find yourself next to sunghoon whenever he’s with a cigarette. just like now, when you return from yet another one of your dates— or meet-ups as you prefer to call it right now— with jay. it wasn’t really planned. you bumped into him after classes and he was on his way back home, so you asked him for a coffee.

he almost jumps at your sudden voice but manages to compose himself, scowing at the distaste in your expression before scoffing, the cigarette still dancing between his lips. “good think, i’m not looking forward to be liked by you,”

he studies the frown on your face, glares as if your eyes are shooting daggers in his direction. it’s amusing to him how easy it is to get on your nerves. he leans against the metal railings, hair falling over his forehead. his eyes stay on your for a few seconds before he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, putting it away from his mouth and blowing out the smoke in your directions. he laughs mockingly when you step back, fanning out the smoke with your hands, cursing under your breath.

“are you crazy?!” you exclaim in annoyance, coughing slightly at his poor attempt at entertainment. your frown deepens when he mumbles a quiet apology although not meaning it, from the looks of it, and lifts the cigarette back to his lips.

“you’re back early,” he states casually, tapping the cigarette butt and watching the ash fall down from the balcony before a taunting chortle falls off his lips. “did jay dump your ass or something?”

your nose scrunches up at his actions, although mostly at the tobacco you can still smell in your air. you look down at the road, watching a mercedes passing by. “no, he had to go somewhere so he left early,”

“i knew it! he’s good for nothing,” and he drops the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his foot even though at the back of his mind, he knows you’re going to yell at him for cleaning that up. “what kind of guy can’t even spend time with his girlfriend?”

“we’re not dating,”

“that’s worse!” he emphasises, and a pause follows as he looks at you with a confused expression. “wait— didn’t you say he asked you out?”

“he did, but he said he wants to wait until exams are over,” there’s a hint of displeasure in your voice. his eyes travel down to your fingers, especially the ring you’re fiddling with before they’re back on your face when you speak again. “we just decided to hang out,”

he practically scoffs at your words, quite literally in disbelief. a knowing sigh comes out of his mouth as he stands straight, this time standing with his back against the railing, feeling the cold metal though his thin white t-shirt. a part of him wants to laugh at your stupidity and point at how naive you are, while another part of him wants to find jay and beat him to pulp. he doesn’t know why there’s anger pooling in his stomach at the mere thought of jay just messing around with you.

“what a sick bastard,” he huffs with a tincture of annoyance in his tone. “how much do you want to bet he’s playing with you?”

“you’re the one who’s sick,” and even though it clicks with him that you’re referring to a few minutes earlier when he smoked all in your face, sunghoon still frowns when you call him sick. “he’s just prioritising his studies, there’s nothing wrong with that. at least he doesn’t smoke while being all up my face,”

you two just bask in silence after that.

he doesn’t have much to say— actually he does, but he doesn’t know how to put it in a decent, coherent way. of course, your reaction won’t be the most pleasant if he told you he wants to punch jay’s good for nothing handsome face. he wonders what you’re thinking when he looks over at you. you seem happy whenever you talk about your supposed ‘future boyfriend,’ yet it’s evident that you’re upset. he likes to think you’re having your doubts too. it's reassuring to him for some reason— because that’s good for you, of course. if you’re upset, you have your doubts, and if you have your doubts you might not fall victim to whatever sick game jay is playing.

“oh, actually, he doesn’t smoke,” but then you speak in a matter-of-fact way, as if comparing him to jay before giving him a mocking smile. “he’s better than you,”

those words ring in his mind for a good while.

you go back inside and he hears you shut the door to your room as an annoyed sigh falls off his lips. hearing that jay is nice from jake was another thing, but hearing to say he’s better than him leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. and he doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way, these little changes in how he usually is, it’s new. it’s frustrating him out.

it isn’t until his phone vibrates that he’s dragged out of his ocean of thoughts. his brows furrow when he notices the time, having realised that he basically wasted the entire noon even though he didn’t attend classes after giving heeseung an excuse that he’s sick. his eyes squint at the sender, and then a groan escaping his lips when he opens to read it.

noh chaeun 4:15pm hoon! my last two classes have been cancelled are you up for some coffee?

sunghoon doesn’t reply, rather leaving his classmate’s messages on seen, too bothered by his inner turmoil to spend time with her. it’s not like him to be this way, to be so bothered over something that doesn’t concern him. you’re definitely not someone so significant and jay is definitely not the first guy you’re with. in fact, he has seen you kiss that guy from one of your classes— as much as he hates to recall that incident now— and had sneaked up to tell your mother about it over the phone when she had called you.

you’ve never had a serious relationship, not after meeting him. in his head, you always came back to him and he’d be lying if he hadn’t joked about it with his friends during the initial few weeks after you had moved in. when he had mentioned to jake that you’re pretty and his friend had teased him a few days later, saying his ‘crush’ was with this other guy, sunghoon, did in fact, say he doesn’t care because you always come back to him; or rather his apartment, actually, but whatever fits the joke.

that day, he had a good laugh out of it and the joke died back then itself, more so after he started complaining about you to his friends. your habits, your actions, the things you say that tick him off, your quirky and quick remarks— everything. perhaps, even about your habit of arriving late on weekends from parties and ruining his sleep because you forget the key most of the time, so he has to wake up and open the door for you, but not guys, never guys.

it hurts his head to even try and figure it out, to find the reasoning behind the pang in his chest every time you mention jay. he likes to think it’s just harmless competition although for no reason, even though both of them have done plenty of things to piss each other off just for the fun of it. sunghoon thinks he can live with it and walks back inside to the living room, until he sees you walking out of your room on phone with someone, the name of he who shall be mentioned rolling off your tongue again, and he finally pulls out his phone with a frustrated sigh.

sunghoon 4:21pm sure, i’ll pick you up in ten

“actually, my mom wants to invite your family over for dinner this weekend,” the girl in front of him speaks with a smile after muttering a quiet thank you to the waiter after he gets their order. “she’s very grateful for the donation your dad made for our art gallery and wants to thank properly,”

“talk to my parents, then,” it’s a simple reply, too bland and forced for her liking.

sunghoon hasn’t spared her a single look in the past ten minutes that they’ve been sitting together at the table. firstly, he doesn’t know why he drove to a restaurant when she asked for a coffee. it’s not even close to dinner time, and the awkward yet sweet smile on her face didn’t make it better for him, so he ordered starters and drinks to drag their little impromptu dinner out.

“sunghoon, to be honest,” chaeun tries to strike up a conversation again, despite the constant lack of effort from his side. “i want you—”

“hey, isn’t that jongseong?” and he cuts her off immediately, finger pointing outside the glass panes beside them as he stares in the direction behind her with brows knit together in shock. “who’s that with her?”

“jongseong?” she repeats the name before turning her head, forming an ‘o’ when she spots a familiar figure through the multitude on the streets. “ah, that’s myung jihye. she has been pursuing him for a while. i guess he finally agreed,”

“they’re dating?!” his voice is full of surprise and disbelief unlike hers, so seemed to be happy for the girl instead. he stares outside with a heavy silence as the couple disappears between the crowd before looking at the girl in front of him.

“oh, i wouldn’t say that…i don’t know but it’s possible they are.” it doesn’t miss her attention how sunghoon’s fingers tighten around the fork. “everybody in our major knows jihye has crush on him and they’re probably a thing by now,”

and he wishes you were here with him right now so that he could show you the true colours of the dear guy you’ve been going out with, the one who’s supposedly ‘better’ than him. he wants you to realise that his words weren’t false and he isn’t sick, after all, and if you’d cry, he would be down to tell you it’s not the end of the world. that there are a hundred other guys better than jay, ones who won’t even breathe in front of another woman, who’d treat you better— hell, i can treat you better if you ever give me a chance— and then a pause in his train of thoughts.

he looks at chaeun, who’s looking back at him with a perplexed look and her own set of questions. his mind replays those words yet again, and he screams internally.

what the heck?!

surprisingly enough, sunghoon has been thinking about jay for the whole evening now, obviously not in a good way. his eyes keep travelling to the knife stand on the kitchen island occasionally and every single time, he has to convince himself that murder is not the right answer to anything.

for some reason, he can’t stop imagining your smiles while on date with jay. not that he has ever seen those— wish i could— as he slaps himself out of his state of mind yet again. not only that man is playing with you but on jihye who’s apparently his girlfriend? he lets out the ugliest scoff known to mankind, because in sunghoon’s head, jay is a sick joke made by biology.

he waits for you to return from your shopping spree for about an hour, having beer as a company. he tries to stay awake although his eyes get droopy, and then every ounce of sleep leaves his body when he hears the door unlock.

“yn,” he practically jumps out of the couch, it almost scares you. he accidentally bumps into the living room table on the way, knocking an empty can of beer to the floor but too busy to bother picking it up. “i have to tell—” his eyes go down to the eleven shopping bags in your hands, as he counts them. “— wait, what did you shop so much for?”

“oh, i have to attend a family wedding next month,” his chest feels warm when he sees you smiling and looking so excited, and it’s making him go crazy on the inside because he doesn’t know what is happening to him. for some reason, he starts imagining you in a gown, like the one you wore for the fresher’s party, but then he forces his mind to get back to the point. “i’m thinking of asking jay to be my date,”

and his heart drops down to his stomach.

this has to be a fucking joke, and he tells himself. for a split second, he thinks he didn’t hear you properly. maybe you said jake because, well, jake did tweet a ‘date for rent’ form five months ago when he needed money to buy tickets for a post malone concert that cost more than his gentle monster glasses ( not that he got any money but at least they got a good laugh out of it. )

you remove your shoes and put the shopping bags on the couch before sitting down as well, letting out a heavy sigh. “you look like you saw a ghost,”

“a ghost would’ve been better,” he catches you looking at him when he mumbles under his breath, sort of grateful you didn’t hear him before sunghoon would rather not have another argument with you over how jay is not only a bad choice, he’s the worst choice.

he looks over at you when you pull out your phone, fingers fluttering over the screen as you text someone with a giddy smile. he considers telling you what he had seen earlier, but god, he loved to see you smile like that. the way you press your lips together to suppress a grin, looking ever so happy as if you have won a lottery. he doesn’t think you’ve ever smiled like that at him, and it aggravates him even more when he realises that you probably smile like that every time you see jay.

jay is getting everything he isn’t deserving of, and it pisses sunghoon off down to his bones.

but again, he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. you look too happy for your own good, it pains him physically to even imagine your reaction when you’ll come to know the truth. and then he pulls himself together, telling himself that it is your fault in the first place to trust someone like jay and ignore the warning signs he was giving you.

in the end, he leaves without having any further conversations with you, going to bed two hours earlier than usual even though he knows he isn’t going to get any sleep. sunghoon is convinced he’s losing his mind, faster than a day ago actually. he lets out a frustrated groan and covers himself with his blanket, hoping to catch some sleep.

it’s going to be yet another long day tomorrow.

003. A CHANGE OF STANCE

sunghoon thinks you’re hot.

what the fuck?

“i asked something,” you remind, pulling him out of his trail of thoughts and he flinches slightly, making your brows furrow in confusion. “how do i look?”

“huh— what? oh,” he takes in your appearance again. hair down, make up done— you’re wearing your favourite lip tint? and the best dress he has seen you in so far, looking so mind blowing it actually blows his mind and short circuits his brain.

even your favourite lip tint … sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s looking at your lips in the first place but little does he know he’s fucked.

absolutely. completely. fucked.

nonetheless, he manages to compose himself, clearing his throat and sitting up ever so elegantly on the couch, legs crossed, the magazine still in his hands. “you look…t-terrific,”

you can’t help but get even more confused at his words, wondering if it was a bad idea to even ask him for his opinion, even though you play along. “like in a good way or a bad way?”

“in a terrific way,” he blurts out, eyes wide open as panic settles in slowly inside his stomach, and he’s stuttering, shocked, surprised, fucked, again. “you look terrific in a terrific way…so terrifically terrific in the most terrific way possible,”

“are you high?”

well, he would say he is! never in the two years that he has known you did sunghoon think he’d find himself floored, figuratively, and speechless, literally, at the sight of you. and he’s not saying you look bad on other days. you look good, in fact. good as in plain and presentable, but never in a good good way and definitely not in a hot way, of course.

“anyway, i’m going out. receive my parcel for me if it arrives,” you move to put on your shoes, taking a few seconds to pick between the two you think would suit your outfit. for a moment, you consider asking him to help you choose— as you look at him up and down peripherally, and he looks terrified. and you shrug it off, grabbing one of your loafers.

“where are you going?” he asks after a good minute of silence, sounding calmer than earlier as he gets off the couch and walks up to you. his nose scrunches up in disapproval as your hands move to one of your jimmy choos for a brief second, before you decide to go back to your initial pick.

“date,” he takes a moment to register your words, despite this happening many times.

a date. he scoffs softly, looking away, arms crossed.

a date, again. sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck.

“with jay,” you continue, this time with a sweet smile on your face that makes his heart flutter for some reason. maybe, he does give a fuck.

now, sunghoon should feel bad for his fellow friend of a friend because he’s on a date with you, but instead he wants to snap his neck in two. the name is starting to give him an ick— jay this, jay that. you’re hanging out with jay, having coffee with jay, going on a date with jay, shopping with jay, next would be going to bed with jay— he pauses immediately, shaking his head. he doesn’t really like the sound of that.

“whatever,” he tells himself when you walk out of that door, looking all pretty and excited. he doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up over a date, that too with someone who— according to sunghoon and chaeun— is dating someone else. he would pay to see you back home all miserable and he would point fingers at you and laugh, saying he told you already while you had your conscience and rationality clogged up with the possibility of getting dicked down.

but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on a date with jay fucking park. and you’re looking hot.

he sighs, slouching back on the couch, looking outside at the bright blue skies and then sighs again. he needs to be lobotomized.

it’s three in the noon and sunghoon is drowning himself in misery and pity. and soju.

a glass after another and then another, along with two empty bottles already on the table. even the owners are giving him a weird look and heeseung can only let him ruin his reputation so much.

“there, there,” the senior takes the half empty bottle of soju from his hand and puts it aside, sighing pitifully at sunghoon. “that’s enough for today. you need to stop drinking,”

“heeseung,” sunghoon looks up at the guy in front of him, looking horribly pitiful, eyes a bit unfocused from the alcohol settling in his system. “do you know yn?”

and heeseung pauses for a few moments, not knowing what prompted him to ask this question. more so when you and heeseung went to the same highschool and even were in the music club. he nods slightly in doubt, raising his glass to his lips. “of course,”

“do you think he’s pretty?”

“of course,”

“do you think she’s hot?”

“of course,” it takes heeseung quite a few seconds to respond and sunghoon sort of wants to punch him in the face for agreeing because he feels a certain way when others find you hot— but he would claim it’s soju giving him heartburns. “why are you even asking this suddenly?”

“she went on a date with jay,” he responds in the most miserable and sullen voice known to mankind. his shoulders practically slouching at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned, finger tracing the rim of the glass in front of him with incoherent whines falling off his lips.

“so what?” jake interjects, beckoning the owner for yet another bottle for soju. it was necessary, as heeseung had warned earlier while arriving at the restaurant, considering sunghoon’s impromptu text about wanting to meet up.

“jake, did you hear what i said? she’s on a date with jay. park. jong. seong,” the youngest spells out every syllable, sitting up straight as he gets defensive. “she thinks he’s madly in love with her or something but she’s wrong! the day i went out with chaeun, i saw him with jihye and guess what? chaeun said everyone knows they’re a thing but apparently, yn doesn’t know this. i’ve told her so many times that he is not worth it but she won’t understand she’s fucking dumb oh my god,”

and…silence.

absolute fucking maddening silence that made sunghoon go even more insane before jake finally decides to speak, albeit in disbelief.

“that monologue was unnecessary,” the foreigner pours in another glass for the three of them, filling them up completely, knowing this is going in a new direction yet a one that has been anticipated by both him and heeseung. “besides, since when do you care about her?”

“she’s my roommate,”

“you like her,” heeseung exclaims, and silence follows again for a few seconds before sunghoon gasps scandalously, slamming his glass down on the table which turns a few heads in their direction as jake mutters an embarrassed apology for it.

“i don’t,” sunghoon speaks in a voice much calmer than his previous tone, even leaning in towards the table to put emphasis on his words. jake pours himself another glass, scoff at his words while shaking his head mockingly which only pisses him off more.

“i knew this would happen,” heeseung continues, stating it as a matter of fact while nudging jake to pour him a glass as well. “saw this coming from a mile away when you cried over her going on a blind date the last time you got drunk,”

he can’t point out when that must’ve happened, but he doesn’t refute his words, simply letting his eyes travel across the room for a few moments. the frown on his lips deepens when he meets jake’s knowing gaze as he gets defensive once again. “i’m telling you, i don’t like her,”

“you said that about hello kitty but she’s everywhere in your room now,” he turns his phone with the screen up when he feels jake’s eyes on it, or particularly on the hello kitty sticker on his phone cover as the boy nudges him for another glass. “go on, you’ll need it.”

and sunghoon does, drinking more than he usually does thanks to jake filling his glass again and again for the sake of his sob story. the cab drops him in front of his apartment and he stumbles his way to the elevator. the silence sobers him out for some reason as he leans against the walls of the elevator and thinks about you.

perhaps you’re still with jay, sharing smiles and stories, kisses if you’re brave enough. he likes to think you are not, that you would chicken out— it makes him feel better about himself. he imagines you holding hands with him and then shrugs that thought off his mind just as quickly, huffing at the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth as he walks out of the elevator once it reaches his floor.

sunghoon planned to take a shower and sleep, but every thought water downs to nothing when he spots you crouching next to the door with knees pressed up to your chest. he can’t see your face, but he knows you’re sad, and it makes him stop in front of you, his heart accelerating when you look up at him with glistening eyes.

you look miserable.

and sunghoon has no reaction. he’s frozen, hands on his side as he stares at you. he was supposed to laugh at you for your stupidity. but you look so utterly sad and heart broken, god, he wants to punch jay in his throat. yet again, every single thought leaves his mind when his eyes fall back on your face, his hands instinctively opening out to you as he speaks in a voice as soft as a feather.

“let’s go inside,”

004. CANDLELIT

“he said it was a bet,” you speak over the silence, fiddling with your fingers. you look up at sunghoon— who’s sitting with legs crossed in front of you while you’re curled up in one corner of the couch. “and that he never meant to drag it out for so long but he didn’t know how to tell me,”

“a bet?” he scoffs bitterly, looking away for a fraction of a second before his eyes are back on you. “what an asshole,”

it’s not the first time sunghoon has said that. in fact, asshole is all and the only word he uses to define jay. you still think it was a stretch, for jay isn’t that bad. sure, he lied to you and played with your feelings— which you will never accept that you had feelings for him because you don’t want to look pathetic— but he wasn’t rude. well, at least he paid for all the three dates you two went on with the locations being some high end restaurants or bakeries.

on the other hand, sunghoon stares at you in silence. his eyes trace over your sullen face, and then to your fingers. for a second, he considers holding your hands…roommates can do that at least, right? to comfort one another, but then he catches you looking up at him and he averts his gaze to a distant corner. “don’t start crying now!”

“i’m not! i didn’t even like him that much…” and he can’t help but suppress his smile at the pout on your face as you refuse to look at him. it’s adorable, he never thought he would ever say that, but it’s true. your mannerisms are cute, you’re cute, and it’s eating his brain cells.

“is that so? you talked about him like you two were in love or something,”

“stop it!”

he stares at you quietly for a few seconds again. even though you’re being defensive out of embarrassment right now, trying to prove to him that you’re not heartbroken, sunghoon knows you’ll be crying the moment you’re behind the closed doors of your room. on other days, he wouldn’t care so much. not more than giving a few pats on a back and telling you to suck it up despite the concern in his voice. today, however, he feels differently.

you got played. it’s your heart that’s broken. you feel like a fool, and yet sunghoon is sitting in front of you, trying to find words amidst awkwardness and hesitation. his heart feels heavy for you. it’s unfathomable on his part.

he suddenly remembers the day you mentioned that jay is better than him. he almost scoffs at that, again. well, you might harbour feelings for the american guy but at least sunghoon never had you holding back your tears. and he swears it would never come to that, if you ever have feelings for him because sunghoon would be a better boyfriend— and then he comes back to his senses as soon as those words register inside his brain, cheeks heating up at the sudden thought before he clears his throat.

“do you want ramen?” he manages to change the topic ever so swiftly, getting up from the couch and already walking to the kitchen without waiting for your response. apparently, getting away from you would ease his heartbeat, although hearing your voice has just as much effect on him as your presence or a mere thought of you.

“are you cooking?”

he lets out a breathy laugh at your words, getting two packs of ramen from the shelf. “of course, do you think i’d ask you to cook when you look like you went through a divorce and lost the custodies of all your three kids?”

you frown at his words, although ending up laughing at them just a second later. it’s hard to not laugh at how silly he is sometimes, if you ignore his annoying tendencies. sunghoon puts the water to boil, fighting back a smile at the sound of your laughter. it’s better than seeing you all sad over a guy who doesn’t deserve you.

you get off the couch as well, making your way to the kitchen, wanting to help him since he listened to your sob story. it’s quiet, and you hear slight rumbling outside as you take a quick look at the weather outside through the windows and then within a few seconds, thunder pierces through the silence hanging in the room.

sunghoon flinches visibly, freezing in his stance before the sound of heavy rain fills the kitchen. he turns on the electric stove and it blows out. all the lights in the apartment go out, darkness settling in and disturbed just as quickly as the room fills with bright flashes of light, illuminating your face for a short second before it’s dark again.

“wait, i’ll get my phone— oh,” you reach out for the back pocket of your trousers, quickly get your phone and turn it on for the flash light before it powers off. “out of battery,”

he takes a blind step into the darkness when it thunders again and he notices you standing with your arms around yourself when the light surges in the room for a moment again. he hopes you won’t push him away if he puts his arm around you, but then you two bump into each other. a quiet apology finds its way out of your lips, and he can tell you’re flustered.

“where are the candles?” he asks to distract you from the fact that he’s holding your hand and pulling you aside gently, so you don’t crash into each other again. your hands feel oddly warm in this cold weather, and it only flutters his heart even more.

“second shelf from the right i think,” your voice is interrupted by thunder again and your hands instinctively tighten around his fingers. and then a loud thud follows, causing you to gasp slightly. “are you okay?”

“i can’t fucking see,” his voice is strained, oozing off pain as he lets go off your hands. you open your mouth to speak before he bumps into something again. something falls off the counter, perhaps the spoon by the sound of it and he apologises shortly after. it’s harder to navigate around his own apartment, more than he had imagined.

sunghoon manages to find the candles, setting them on the counter with pure intuition before lighting one of it up with the lighter he always carries around in his pocket. he turns around, almost bumping into you and before he could say anything, he sees you pressed up against one of the counters, face illuminated by the dim candle light.

you’re close, too close, he’s afraid you can hear his heart going crazy at the proximity. his mind is telling him to step aside but he’s too lost looking in your eyes, ( as you are too ) with you looking so impossibly beautiful under the faint golden glow.

“is this okay?” he whispers softly and you simply nod, not a word coming out of your mouth as you find yourself entranced by his face. sunghoon has always been aphrodite’s son, as his admirers would call him, and now that you’re seeing him so closely, you’re realising he’s something much more beautiful.

it doesn’t slip your attention how his gaze settles on your lips for a quick second, your body tensing up at the sudden movement. your breath hitches as he leans closer, dipping his head down. your heart is racing while he feels like his heart has stopped— it’s timeless, as he finds himself just a few centimetres away from your lips, not wanting to stop even though he gives you a chance to pull back, whispering softly, “can i?”

you nod. and sunghoon doesn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his.

it’s still at first, with your lips only pressed up together for a few seconds. it’s only a few seconds after he pulls back ever so slightly, and then tilts his head to the other side and goes in for another kiss, this time moving his lips slowly against yours. he feels you tense up for a brief while and then melting as you kiss him back, your fingers lacing around his tenderly. you flinch when it thunders again, breaking the kiss, but feeling shivers down your spine as you feel his breath on your lips.

he takes a few seconds, fingers ghosting up your hands to rest on your waist, tugging you closer as he brushes his lips against yours. “focus on my lips,”

and he kisses you again, this time a bit more firmly, albeit it’s slow and gentle at first, his lips moving against yours in a way that's both comforting and exciting. but as the moments pass, he presses in deeper, more insistently. he lets his body press more firmly against yours, his chest touching yours as his tongue gently teases at the seam of your lips. it was working, the way his lips move against yours, it calms your nerves from the thunder but lights them up again when he nibbles gently on your lower lip, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist as he continues to kiss you so fervently.

it takes a passing second for you to realise what you’re doing. it surprises you, however not enough to pull back, or maybe the way his tongue feels against yours stops you from doing so. you’d be lying if you say you hadn’t thought of kissing him before— as early as two days after moving in. and now that you’re actually kissing him, everything feels like a fever dream.

he tucks your chin up with his fingers, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. he is a good kisser, sunghoon uses that to boast about himself, he has always been good at this— kissing, bragging, making your knees weak, and all you could do was melt into him wet and sloppy kisses that he plants on your skin.

he dips his head down to your neck, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pulling your blouse aside to get a better access to your collarbones and shoulders. it felt like his body has a mind of its own, and he’s only following right behind. when a soft gasp leaves your lips, he moves back to your lips again, wanting to swallow every little sound you make that makes his mind haywire.

your breaths are heavy, hands around his neck with fingers grazing the skin of his nape. a movement that makes him moan softly in the kiss as he presses you against the counter, holding you between his arms. his hand that's resting on your hip moves up, tracing the curve of your waist and then sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin, lips curling up in a subtle smirk as he hears you gasp yet again.

“sunghoon—” you pull back, getting a quick glance at his half-lidded eyes when the lightning from the thunderstorm fills the room. he can still feel your laboured breathing on his lips and it does nothing but pull him in even more. after all, sunghoon would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine doing this with you.

“we’ll stop,” he pecks your lips, then trailing his lips down your jawline and to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your skin. “when the candle goes out,”

005. WHERE THE LINE FADES

when sunghoon wakes up the next morning, he’s met with cold empty sheets on the side and the memories from last night start flooding his mind. his heartbeat accelerates at the mere thought of you, especially how you were last night and every time his name fell off your lips in bliss and pleasure— he would’ve preferred waking up to you rather than emptiness.

he lays idly for a few minutes and stares at the ceiling, looking for where it all had started. was it the day you told him jay asked you out? maybe not, he doesn’t like to think of himself as a jealous person. it must’ve been when you asked for his opinion on your outfit, he tells himself, you looked too good to be true that day. a few seconds more and he sits up with a soft groan, seemingly unable to find answers to any of his questions.

the weather seems to have improved as he notices the cosy sunlight outside. he slips on this shirt before walking down to the shared bathroom, rubbing his eyes softly and brushing his fingers through his hair with a sigh. he puts his hand on the door knob and looking up in surprise when it opens on the other side.

“oh,” the slight hint of shyness on your face doesn’t escape his gaze, just like how enchanting you look this early in the morning with hair wet from the shower. you bite slightly on your lower lip before the awkwardness in the air is disturbed by your voice. “morning,”

actually, it must’ve all started the day you moved in.

“morning,” he replies back, rubbing his nape and looking away. the weight of questions lingering around makes it hard for him to look in your eyes. “would you like to have breakfast?”

you nod and follow him into the kitchen after making a short trip to your room.

you steal a few glances at him while eating your breakfast, feeling your palms sweat at the thought of bringing it up to him. you avoid it for a few minutes, tossing the question around in your head while trying to make small talks about the ketchup, as bad as it could get. it feels a bit suffocating until you finally decide to address the elephant in the room. “so about last night—”

“it was a mistake,” he cuts you off immediately, a heavy pause following shortly after. he looks up in your eyes for the first time since the morning. “let’s just forget it,”

and his words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. it could’ve been just another one night stand for you had it not been with sunghoon— your roommate, the person you see everyday, the person who managed to give you butterflies the day you moved in. your fingers tighten around the spoon and you consider arguing back for a moment before you push that idea further back in your head.

it could be just another thing added to the lists of things that have been buried, like the time you and sunghoon almost kissed in the elevator last year.

“right,” you nod quietly, convincing yourself that it’s not a big deal. that he’s just another guy in your life like jay. actually, you don’t feel like wanting to compare them anymore. you don’t know where the line marking the difference fades. “of course, yeah,”

you don’t even like the sound of that.

“yeah,”

you don’t wait another minute before leaving your unfinished breakfast on the table and going to your room. his eyes follow your movements, conscience nudging him to chase after you. he contemplates it for a while, and then you walk out with your bag. “i’ll see you after classes,”

and then sunghoon doesn’t see you for the rest of the morning.

or the day, in fact. usually, you two end up bumping into each other at least once, but sunghoon doesn’t see you around for the whole day. he skips spanish, deciding to go back to his apartment earlier than usual. he turns on the tv, deciding to watch a football watch with beer on the side while waiting for you. an hour passes, then another, and another.

there’s no sign of you.

it isn’t until he rings up a few of your friends that he hears that you’re staying over at giselle’s for the night. he wouldn’t blame you, couldn’t, not after everything that went down a night ago. you needed some space and so did he, but somewhere inside he wondered if he should’ve been honest with you when you brought up that topic during breakfast instead of saying the first thing that came to his mind and dismissing it.

but, he dismisses it again, letting you be on your own for as long as you need, knowing you’d come back soon.

which you do, the very next day, much to his surprise. he had expected you to avoid him for at least a week. he notices the way you look when you return early in the morning, tired and exhausted as if you hadn’t got a single ounce of sleep. there’s silence engulfing him but you walk to your room before he could even open his mouth to speak. and then you ignore him for the rest of the day.

he starts feeling annoyed at some point, trying to come up with a reason for your actions. he tries striking up conversations with you and you give short responses, or just nod. when you walk away without answering him when he asked about your day, sunghoon wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back for a second, but he dismisses that idea just as soon as it pops up in his head. he doesn’t even realise how quickly time passes in silence, not until he returns from heeseung’s apartment after spending two nights and one day with him and jake and checks his phone, realising it’s already close to being a week till you’re gone radio silent. he notices a few texts, mostly his study group that have been planning meet-ups to study, one that he rarely attends. his eyes especially squint in confusion at the texts from your mother, saying she had been trying to get in touch with you but getting no response.

he was on his way to his room when he heard the door unlock. a pause, the click of the doorknob strikes through the silence, followed by your footsteps. he takes a few seconds to sort out his thoughts before speaking. “your mom texted me since you weren’t picking up her phone,”

“my phone died,” you give a simple response, almost too quickly for his liking. he lets his eyes follow your movements as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting it on the couch.

it takes him back to the day you told him about jay asking you out.

it was exactly the same— you arrived late, your phone had died. he was asking the same questions, albeit laced with annoyance. today, it’s hesitation, maybe slight doubt. sunghoon can’t stop you from seeing jay, but the idea of you being with him bothers him more than expected. so, he follows up with yet another question.

“where have you been?” he asks, wanting to maintain a casual demeanour even though his heart is pounding in his chest just from being near you. he isn’t expecting any response, actually, however he’s met with surprise when you actually reply.

“with jay,” the words fall from your mouth as if you’re used to them, used to saying his name. there’s an awkward pause before you clarify. “we had dinner together. he wanted to apologise properly,”

“that’s— that’s great,” he manages to squeeze out, but sunghoon thinks jay could’ve left you alone instead of meeting you if he wanted to apologise so bad.

you definitely had feelings for jay, even though they didn’t go as deep for you to come home sobbing your eyes out the day you learnt the truth. to sunghoon, that is enough of a reason to hate him even more. just the mere thought of your heart sinking whenever you’d even think of jay made him fist his hands, nails almost digging in the palm of his hands.

sunghoon doesn’t have much experience with girls. in fact, none at all. flings are one thing, and girlfriends another. he has had both— none too serious. the first time someone asked him out was in highschool, although he’s surprised it didn’t happen much earlier. that time, just agreed to go out with her because his friends were in relationships too and he didn’t want to fall behind. it wasn’t soon before it turned into a competition after he got into university. not his best self, it isn’t something he’s proud of now that he thinks about it.

and sunghoon isn’t half better than jay in that aspect, although obviously not as bad as to bet on going on a date with another girl while he already has a girlfriend. however, if you had feelings for him— as he thinks while watching you walk to your room— he wouldn’t let a single tear fall from your lips.

“about that night,” he follows you into your room, practically hearing his heartbeat echo through his ears. he gulps nervously when he notices you looking at him with a sliver of hope in your eyes. “it wasn’t a mistake,”

“oh,” and you stop in your tracks, having no idea how to respond. an awkward pause follows as you bite your lower lip habitually before speaking, feigning a casual tone. “well, we can still put it behind—”

“i don’t want to,” he blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. you notice how his voice is quiet as always, yet there’s panic and anxiousness behind those eyes. “i mean, i tried to, but it’s difficult. you’re always on my mind,”

there’s a silver of determination behind his voice. it’s surprising and equally anticipated. sometimes, he feels like he thinks of you every minute no matter what he’s doing. it was never this bad, these days even the regular banters between you two give him butterflies. and sunghoon understand that he might be far from your type in men. perhaps, you actually prefer someone like jay, who treat you to a fancy dinner to apologise, or maybe that guy from a few months ago who can’t remember the name of.

you and sunghoon can be polar opposites and he would still be standing here, fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his denim jacket, looking so uncharacteristically out of place. he would choose to have this talk again, as much as he hates confronting, because it never about who your type is and always about the fact that you’re sunghoon’s type— as he realises this when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with lips pressed together. you look cute, more so when you’re awkward, and he can’t believe he’s coming to terms with this but god, he is falling for you.

he is falling hard, and falling deep. it’s nothing like him, you make him nervous, almost as if knocking him out of air whenever your eyes meet, and he would gladly suffocate to death. it was quiet with too many questions hanging above his head, and he noticed the way you fiddle with your fingers with the cutest expression known to mankind and sunghoon knew he was screwed.

“i’ve got it so bad for you, yn, really,” —he speaks as if he’s out of breath due to the nervousness— “really bad. i tried to keep you out of here,” he said, pointing at his chest, cheeks flushing red as the words fell off his lips. “but you won’t go, you just won’t.”

and sunghoon has never been so…out of place, for the lack of better words. it’s amusing, even to you, the way he is right now. the sunghoon from three weeks ago wouldn’t even care but he, now, is pouring out all of himself, as if stripping him naked of his emotions and letting him see what lies behind the suave smiles and prideful words. as if showing you how easily you have him going crazy, right out of his mind and how he can’t help but just stare blankly as his eyes travel down to your lips occasionally— as they do now— and it leaves you in a frenzy when you notice it.

“i can’t stop thinking about that night— not in a weird way, just…” and you’re just standing in front of him, trying not to laugh at his antics. he’s cute, a pause, what the fuck. and then you just go along with it, knowing there’s no point denying it anymore now that you two are having this conversation.

you notice his little mannerisms, like how he can’t look in your eyes for the life in him, how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. it’s adorable, especially the way he can have all the attention in the room with just his mere presence. that’s sunghoon for you, with a presence so heavy it’s loud even when he’s silent. it’s so loud you can practically hear his mind, of all the words you know he wants to say but can’t. there’s a hitch in his breath, his eyes meet yours for the first time in the past few minutes— i like you— they say, and the next thing sunghoon knows is that you’re kissing him.

“i like you too,” you whisper against his lips after pulling back, your lips brushing against his. sunghoon feels like every single nerve in his body has been sparked, giving him goosebumps when you slowly intertwine your fingers with his.

of course, you know how he feels even before he could say it out loud. maybe, he just made it obvious for you to guess, otherwise sunghoon likes to think of himself as someone who can hide his feelings well. he lets go of your hands as soon as he feels you lace your fingers with his and instead, cups your cheeks ever so tenderly and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling in the kiss. “i love you,”

˃ᗜ˂ : if you made it till here, i'm sending each one of u kisses >< thank u for reading, i hope u liked it. ps i had to put my heart aside and write jay's name ... never again will i put my man thru this huhu TT he's too good to do these things

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catscidr · 11 months ago

Note

YANDERE DOTTORE X READER JAHEKWHZBAKNA

happy to see most dottore enjoyers sharing the same braincell. even happier to provide that good good dottore content (〃ﾉωﾉ) answering two asks in the same post bc it would be too repetitive if i made them separate agshfjns- next post will feature either childe or al haitham (depending on which one i finish first) (giving everyone a break from dottore for a hot sec) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore (obvs), not quite proofread, dottore is named zandik in the mini-fic includes: gn!reader, dottore, his clones are kinda there, pierro and the tsaritsa are also mentionned. a handful of headcanons + a mini-fic wc: 1,8k

-ˋˏ Despite what most people might think, Dottore isn’t a sadistic man. He only hurts people if it’s necessary- if it helps with his research- and even then, it’s not like he enjoys inflicting pain, he enjoys the knowledge he gathers as a result of such experiments

-ˋˏ ...That doesn't apply with you though. He likes to see you squirm, to do things that make you react, whether positively or negatively. He’s that desperate and needy

-ˋˏ He’s a man that doesn’t go out much because of his work. So how could you blame him for wanting your attention?

-ˋˏ I think he’d be the type of yandere to just be incredibly obsessed with you. Always having someone checking in on you (his segments, of course) to report back to him so he knows what you’re doing at all times, probably the type to have an entire folder with your personal information in it as if you were one of his test subjects

-ˋˏ Not to mention he would be extremely manipulative, too. Dottore is the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing; a handsome face with dubious intentions.

-ˋˏ He wants to have your attention 24/7, to never have you take your eyes off of him, but he can’t do that if he stays holed up in his lab. Unfortunately for him he's very clingy

-ˋˏ But Dottore is a patient man (he was able to create an artificial God y’know- that kind of thing doesn’t happen overnight), so he takes his time with you- getting to know you, having his segments stalk you (he’s not the one doing it, so it’s fine, right?)

-ˋˏ You’re just like a frog in a pot boiling water. If you put it in the pot immediately, it’ll jump out as soon as it makes contact with the hot water; but if you put it in room temperature water and boil it slowly…

-ˋˏ The Harbinger knows your “relationship” isn’t an experiment, but at the same time it’s hard to say that he isn’t studying you. Having a mask that obscures his wandering eyes is definitely an advantage

-ˋˏ It doesn’t matter who you are, he would bend his schedule just for you. He’s that thoughtful! Since he’s practically his own boss (aside from various deadlines and meetings) he can do whatever he wants. Who’s going to tell him off? Pierro and the Tsaritsa don’t care how he achieves results as long as he gets results. So, expect to “accidentally” run into him more times than a regular person would

-ˋˏ You’re a fatui agent? Suddenly one of his experiments requires him to watch how soldiers (you) fight and train. You’re just a normal civilian? He’ll figure out where you work and find excuses to come see you just to chat

-ˋˏ It’s even better if you work a customer service job. You work at a cute coffee shop? What a coincidence, he loves coffee! Now he’s a regular and you know his order by heart. (I like to think he actually hates coffee but powers through the bitter taste and energetic aftermath just because it gives him an excuse to bond with you)

-ˋˏ You work at a grocery store? That’s perfect, he’ll start doing his groceries at your store from now on (you don’t point out how every week his groceries- without fail- consist of mozzarella sticks, a whole rotisserie chicken, cheap red wine, a pack of cigarettes and a singular loaf of whole wheat bread.)

-ˋˏ If you’re not in the fatui, chances are you don’t know who he is (he doesn’t go out much, after all) so it’s easier for him to play up the “good guy” role (wolf in sheep’s clothing from before nudgenudge). He’s a very smooth talker

-ˋˏ Of course, you’ve heard rumors about “the Doctor”, one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, a feared man all across Teyvat. So it’s a good thing that your new friend’s name is Zandik and he’s just a normal surgeon that works in a private hospital! Nothing suspicious, 'course not

-ˋˏ Both of you engage in small talk whenever you cross paths. He’ll ask questions about you (even though he already knows the answer to them), all so that you can feel seen and heard- who cares about him, about what he does? This is about you. He wants you to tell him everything

-ˋˏ The kind of person to use the excuse that he had a Ph.D. for a lot of things. You whine that your shoulders have been sore for longer than usual? He’ll get up from his seat and get behind you, sliding a hand just under the collar of your shirt to press and prod at your muscles to check if there’s anything wrong (good thing you can’t see his expression from behind you), saying he "knows best" whenever the (your) human body is brought up

-ˋˏ His patience isn’t endless, however. If he sees that this isn’t going anywhere, that you seem to be keeping him at arm’s length despite your “connection”, he’ll just take things into his own hands. And even though he doesn’t really get off from causing pain, he’s not afraid to make you squirm either

It wasn’t unusual for you to grab a bite to eat with the Doctor occasionally. Working at a local coffee shop had its perks; one of them being how you could make drinks for free and eat snacks at a discounted price. Though you never needed to worry about money since your friend would always tip you handsomely, basically paying you for the snacks you brought to the table.

Closing shop was easy enough when you had someone to keep you company while you swept the floor and wiped counters clean. He sat at one of the booths, cup of coffee in hand (you started making it decaf when you noticed his nose scrunch one time when he drank his usual order), watching you work idly.

“Rough day?” you ask with a gentle smile, looking over where Zandik sat. Being quite some distance away from him you couldn’t catch the twitch of the corner of his lips as he sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his face beneath his pointy mask.

“You could say that” he grumbles, laying his arms on the table, holding his cup of coffee with both hands. The man tilts his head to the side, focusing on you rather than his pesky thoughts. You put the broom away and saunter over to his booth, sitting across from him with a plate of various pastries in hand.

“What’s on your mind? Maybe I could give some advice and help! Or you’ll feel better if you just... talk about it,” you chuckle softly, taking a sip of your own drink. Zandik’s gaze never leaves your form, his gaze burning the sight of your lips into his mind.

If he told you even a smidge of what he was thinking you would, without fail, run and never look back. Even the tamest of things he’s thought about you would drive you away. From him fantasizing about how your skin would taste, to how your heart would look like in a jar on his desk when he worked... he shudders, swallowing down the urge to do something impulsive. Zandik takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes flickering from your lips to your wide, innocent eyes.

“Thank you for offering,” he begins slowly, “but that’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to worry about it,” he says smoothly, losing the tension in his shoulders to seem more approachable. With the first two buttons of his shirt undone, hair lightly tousled, and overcoat thrown over the back of the booth chair, he looked nothing like the deadly Harbinger he was. Looked like an overworked businessman at most.

You puff your cheeks, disappointed that he wouldn’t open up to you. You’ve been doing it this whole time, and yet he won’t talk about what was bothering him to you? It made your heart flutter- he was so considerate- but at the same time you couldn’t shake the idea that maybe he was hiding something. Inhaling slowly, you calm your nerves, deciding that today would be the day you confront him. After all, a good friendship is built on trust, and you can’t stay good friends with someone that hides things from you.

Oh, how naïve you are.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” you say gently, placing one hand on his. The feel of his rough hand beneath yours made you shudder, almost instinctively- are surgeons’ hands supposed to be this rugged?

“I want to be there for you in the same way you’ve been here for me...” you add, voice trailing off as your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I think you’re nice to be around. Don’t I owe you for the number of times I’ve complained about customers to you?” you say, chuckling lightly at the memory.

Zandik doesn’t react, not at first. His eyes fix your face with an underlying threat, gaze hidden by his mask. Although you can’t see his eyes, a shudder runs up your spine at the feeling of being watched so intently. Where have you felt this before...

“You’re right,” he responds quietly, voice hoarse. “You owe me.”

His words caught you off guard. Owe him? That was a joke! You were trying to lighten his spirits, to take his mind off whatever was troubling him for even just a second. How come you felt your nerves screaming at you to get up?

His free hand covers the hand you had laid on his, the grip on your skin becoming firmer the longer you two sat there. Your heart rammed against your ribcage, ears ringing from the sudden wave of adrenaline washing over you.

“You said you wanted to help me, right?” Zandik says in a sickly-sweet tone, leaning forward to stare at you, gaze unrelenting behind his mask. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you nod dumbly, staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He grins in response.

Did he always have teeth this sharp?

“Then you won’t make my life harder than it already is by resisting, right?” he adds. You could hear how heavy his breathing had become in just a few seconds, how his hands had a death grip on your own. His cup of coffee was long forgotten; how could he possibly focus on something as useless as that when you were giving yourself to him?

The snow pelleted the windows harshly, essentially trapping you inside the coffee shop with him. Even the weather outside couldn’t compare to how cold your blood ran in the face of the Doctor; maybe if you had listened to your gut earlier you wouldn’t currently be skewered in the jaws of the shark that had been circling you for months.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x gn reader #zandik x reader #zandik x you #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #dottore headcanons

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queen-of-elves · 2 months ago

Text

Spilled wine

Summary: These events were all the same, the same names, the same faces, at least that's what Aemond had always thought.

A/N: this is more of a crack fic but not really? Basically everyone is friends and happy haha but not really. Aemond still has the scar but it happened during some summer vacation and it was a complete accident + Aemond getting his walls knocked down by reader and being absolutely whipped for her

Btw this is probably the most ambitious fanfic I ever attempted to write when it comes to the word count, so I am sort of proud of myself

Fanarts for this fanfic: The snap screenshot, some sketches of outfits, kiss

Masterlist

Words: 8,7K

Warnings: english is not my first language, drinking, mention of dr*gs, alcohol consumption, minimum use of Y/N, male oc present at the table, swearing, +18 themes but not smut

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Red and white

Aemond did not appreciate his mother pushing him into attending these kinds of events. Opulent and full of rich fellow friends of his sickly father. This was nothing more than a powertrip for their egos. Socialize, make connections and exploit them in the foreseeable future.

And this event was a definition of what he hated. Noone was there to actually enjoy themself, it was all an illusion. This was a competition: who can get more information while sipping on their drinks, who could manipulate another investor after doing lines in the dim bathrooms, who could win another connection to centuries old wealth. Aemond felt sick to his stomach over these thoughts even though he was born into this world. However, the worst part of this whole farce was that he needed none of that, except his grandfather did. His scheming got even more out of control since Aegon moved into Aemond's apartment, destroying his plans of him being the heir to their father’s company by being a reckless drunk out in the open.

And now he was standing next to him in a freshly pressed suit, dark green fabric turning black in the evening darkness. He once found suits and formal clothing as a second skin, armor he could hide underneath but they were now constricting him. Aemond’s younger self was always obsessed with this image of the perfect son. Well educated, polite, manners of the perfect gentlemen, perfect son, perfect in everything. PERFECT. The older he grew the more he started to resent the word, the more he started to fear it in some way. No matter how much he tried, it was never enough. While his brother was failing in everything he touched, Aemond was succeeding and it was all for nothing.

His mother was giddy to introduce him to people, ready to make a match of him and some rich lady, probably at the instigation of his grandfather. Another face, another introduction. Aemond did not remember the new rich people introduced to him by his mother. And why should he, he did not expect to see them again.

He already knew the proper aces in the field since he was 9 years old, he remembered well Lannisters who did business with his father through their banks or the Royce family, giants in the food industry and of course Hightowers, his grandfather’s and his mother’s name, his uncle Gwayne being one of the best lawyers. Aemond was meant to soon join him, after he finishes his studies.

When I finish college.

There were many more of these names, sewed into his brain since a young age but these names did not change, they were all playing the same game with the same moves with the same chess pieces since he was born. Generational wealth hiding from the new kind, gatekeeping their society from the rest, while they enjoyed parties with the best of the best.

“Oh, Aemond, do you remember Margaret Baeltigar?” Soft touch of his mother’s hand, almost as if burning him, woke him up from his thoughts. He had no recollection of such a lady, maybe she was one of Alicent’s so-called friends or maybe some wife of an investor in the family’s company.

The lady was slightly older than his mother, clad in a light blue gown, her boney hand clutching her glass of champagne. She was the kind of skinny only obtainable by starvation, unhealthy diet. The smile she gave him was forced, too much white pearly teeth showing for his liking and for it to be sincere. Her posture was rigid as if she was posing and maybe she was, to him, to his mother, to everyone.

“Of course.” The polite small smile fell unappreciated since her gaze had already turned away, wide eyes searching for something specific, someone specific in the crowd of empty faces.

“Here she is…” Those words seemed forced, like an unwanted gift you still have anticipated, so you keep smiling to please the donor. “Finally.” Her mouth was once again outstretched in that horrendous toothy smile, lips almost cracking under the strain of holding it all together. Boney arms holding out for a hug.

“Hello.” There was a polite voice behind him but he did not turn. Aemond already knew what this was about, this was not the first time he would get ambushed by his mother’s scheming mind into the web of being introduced to some bratty heiress. He did not even notice when his brother ran off, probably searching for another drink or a white powder to misuse, leaving Aemond to fend for himself.

The young lady moved in a nonchalant manner, her attention solely on her mother and her outstretched arms. The hug was awkward, he could feel the deja vu pulsing through him. Image of Aemond and his mother enveloped in such a hug. A constant reminder of the chasm between them over unsaid things.

The stark contrast between the mother and her daughter was apparent. Boney corpse parading around the mirage of a living body dressed in light blue dress and young lady in red, bow tying it all around her neck, accompanying her.

“This is my daughter.”

“It’s so lovely to meet you, dear.” The smile on his mother’s face was sincere, in some manner she was always excited to meet new young ladies, if it was ‘cause of her single sons or lonely daughter he did not know.

“Oh, thank you.” There was untypical shiness to her, voice not trembling but slightly fighting to be heard in the overabundance of loud talking. She seemed confident enough next to her own mother just like he was next to his. Her bright eyes had moved from Alicent to him and Aemond recognized the uneasiness in them. Used to the parties but not used to the contact with people at them.

“I am Y/N-” Her words just like her unstretched hand toward him were interrupted by her mother abruptly moving to the side. Attention of everyone in the conversation then shifted to the new face entering in. Another young woman, this time more similar to the mother in her face, same structure but much younger was now staring at him, grinning widely. The white dress shining in the light.

“Oh, you have to meet my oldest! She is such a delight!” This time Mrs. Baeltigar’s voice was high pitched, excitement radiating from the statement. This was the second time Aemond felt deja vu struck him on this particular night. Oldest and delight, that’s how his mother used to talk about Aegon in front of everyone. Her most prized son, a son who did not care for his education and ended up on his younger brother’s coach, hiding from the rest of the family.

The Baeltigar’s oldest daughter was marching right to them the moment she realized her mothers presence. Almost bumping into one of the waitresses' sides, overjoyed by the possible introduction, she clung to her mother’s thin left arm.

“Margo Baeltigar, pleasure to meet you,” Margo’s voice was similar to her mother’s high pitch and sugary, leaving a sour taste in Aemond. The oldest was almost hyper focused on him and before he could even react to her introduction, she opened her mouth again but no words got to him. Because while this conversation took place the other sister carefully navigated her way around her sister’s body, moving into the background. Her figure slowly and unnoticed disappearing behind the two M named ladies, fighting for his and Alicent's attention.

There was a heavy stone set in his throat, his stomach fluttering at the same time and Aemond did not know what it meant, not yet.

Aemond was thankful for not being seated at the same table as his mother or anyone from his family and while the company next to him was quite boring he knew it could have always been worse. Five seats out of six already occupied, he was not expecting any miracles from the last person yet to arrive.

On his right was one of his father’s long term investors with his wife, a quiet old man with an already full belly even before the food had yet to arrive, his wife still yapping in her husband’s ear since they were seated, while on his left were two other men, one of them younger than the other. The younger one seemed like a total newcomer to this kind of event, to this kind of society too, his eyes constantly darted from one table to another, trying to identify everyone present. However, the man next to him was the opposite, comfortably sprawled in his seat, his hand leaning on the young man’s chair, black eyes observing his behavior, finding amusement in it. His smooth hair was graying just like his beard but there was pleasant handsomeness in his face.

“I was almost afraid you would run off,” The silver fox at their table spoke up, gaze heading to someone behind his shoulder, the last person finally arrived at their table. Aemond was only slightly interested in the person, another short distraction in a long night, he knew them all and quite frankly, they were all boring.

The figure moved, he could feel the movement behind him, wind picking up, fabric rustling, heels clicking. A woman. Or a very short man, he had noticed several guys trying to hide their shortage, pun intended, by clapping heels hidden beneath longer suit pants.

His hand gripped the champagne flute, glass slick with condensation, almost causing shivers down his spine. The liquid was bitter, bubbles fizzing on his tongue, and for a second it was an uncomfortable feeling before the drink slid down. In moments like these Aemond understood why his brother was always drinking, in the end there was nothing else to do.

The new addiction to the table was finally at her seat, still chatting with the man. And just like the bubbles his boredom fizzled off. The bow was gone and she was no longer wearing the pretty red dress. Her current dress was snow white, like fresh cotton sheets, and on one shoulder. The fabric was dangling off her in an awkward manner, almost as if it was not meant for her. Her shoulders were hidden by black suit jacket, a decent and modest combo, however, it was apparent the outfit was not meant to be this way.

But white suits her.

“Don’t worry, I just went to save my sister.” The almost silver haired man moved the empty chair for her to sit in more comfortably, too eager for a new distraction at the table just like Aemond was. And once again Aemond felt something within him move, how did they know each other, were they close, he might be years older than her but even his mother was significantly younger than his father.

“Oh, what has she done this time?” Laughter erupted from the man, cheeks blooming red. For a moment, Aemond thought she would take offense to such a statement, he probably would but only in the sense of feeling embarrassment for himself stemming from his brother’s failures. In some sense he loved his brother but on most days he was exploding in anger over Aegon’s public mistakes.

However, she only sheepishly grinned before motioning to her side. “Spilled some wine on herself.” And truly there it was, ugly red stain on her hip, the jacket covering it just enough to not be prominent in the evening dim lighting, saving her from judging glares.

“Of course you did.” This time the man was the one with a sheepish smile hiding behind his glass, twinkle in his eyes indicating some kind of hidden joke.

The Targaryen felt like he was the only one witnessing the conversation even though the full table’s attention was turned to two. His eyes were scanning her face, then the dress and then her face again. She acted as if she was so used to it and there was silent understanding on his part for such action. It wasn’t long before the two noticed his unmoving gaze, while the other occupants of the table turned to their own matters.

“I suppose our introduction was cut short. I am Y/-,” He did like her smile, it was soft, not quite reaching her eyes, not in a malicious kind of way. To an untrained eye it would only seem like a sincere reaction, to Aemond’s it was apparent her smile was the result of years of practice.

“I know.” His voice cut through her sentence like a hot knife, stopping her completely. Aemond knew of his talent to be awfully cold to people but this time he had truly overdone himself. The smile he rewarded her with, trying to improve his reputation, only received by a puzzled look from her and her companion.

This night can’t get worse.

Rough grimace struck his face, muscles twitching under the pressure of his failing. He was good at this, he was good at these events. So why was he fucking it all up today? Bitter feeling bit his throat and he wished he could swallow all the shame in the world, devour every mistake he ever made so no one could gaze upon them and he would be perfect again. Was it because she felt familiar to him? Because she had the same watchful eyes behind her every step, watching her to complain about her wrong doings? Or maybe he was completely wrong and playing himself entirely.

After the food arrived, most of the over the table conversation had died down, except for a few whispers here and there between some of them. He did not register any kind of taste, all was now in a fog to him, the illusion of a perfect man shattering with each glance turned to her. Only consolation prize to him were the few and far inbetween looks she rewarded him with. The plates with food were gone just as fast as they appeared, all in a flash moving forward. It was time to go out, social torture once again in progress.

And at the end of the night, when most of the guests had already left and the rest were getting ready to leave, he saw a glimpse of her saying goodbye to the older man from their table. Aemond realized he never got to know his name but he knew he could turn the tables, he could make this right again.

There was not much left of the courage in him on this grim night, but what was left had to be sufficient for now. His movement was rigid, he weaved between the people, tables and chairs, mind almost blank except for the command to move forward, to go to her.

“Hi.” Was his voice always so rough? He tried to swallow with no success, the lump in his throat winning.

“Hi.” Her eyes were wide, caught by surprise, she moved to fully face him. The light softly illuminated her face, giving her a certain glow he knew he would never forget. There just was something so familiar about her. Like a picture he has seen before but now had no recollection of. Have they already met? He couldn’t remember even though he really wanted to.

“Sorry about the…” His head moved to their table, indicating what he meant without having to say that. Aemond was sure he would spontaneously combust if he had to talk about his own rudeness caused by the unfamiliar uneasiness in his stomach more than this.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Her answer was so casual, as if his rude behavior was long gone from her mind, while he wanted the opposite even if it were her remembering only the worst stuff about him. He needed her to remember him.

He could hear someone call her name, the shadow of her mother frantically waving her hand at them, signaling something to her. There was a drunk mess of a person even further behind her mother, hair everywhere, red dress tripping her on uneasy legs.

It was an image he was so used to by now, but this time, it was not his responsibility. It was someone else’s. And somehow it changed nothing, there was a bile rising up inside him, hands sweaty and heart beating too fast, such a familiar situation he saw her in. It was like looking in the mirror.

She was biting her lip anxiously, some part of her evidently annoyed at her sister and he wanted to tell her to never ever do that again. He wanted to take all her worries away, he wanted to do that for her.

“Sorry…” Her shoulders visibly slumped, one of her shoulders escaping from under the black jacket. “Have to go.” Her manicured thumb pointing behind her, at the mess she was meant to deal with. Her older sister was drunk off her mind, stumbling in the crowd, the man with her unable to hold her straight up, part of him found relief in the fact Aegon was not with her. One of her heels dangled off the man’s hand while the other wrestled to keep her on her feet.

“Have a great night!” Aemond thought these words might haunt him for the rest of his life, the rest of the night squished into few fragments of him saying bye to people and getting back to his apartment, while some part of him was still stuck in the moment with her.

Teal blue

This time she was wearing teal blue gown, satin complementing her skin like nothing he has ever seen. Her smile was wide and even though Aemond saw her only in passing, a warm feeling spread through his insides. Since their first encounter he had chastised himself for his behavior, praying for a chance to redeem himself to her.

However, they were not seated at the same table and for once he found himself disappointed for the lack of his mother's interference. And so after losing Aegon, in the crowd, even though he was meant to babysit him after his last drunk tirade at some club went public, he began mapping the whole place in hope to find the teal gown in the crowd.

It was after the obnoxious dinner that he found her standing next to the bar, the silverfox by her side once again. Aemond could not hear them but it seemed as an interesting conversation by the way her arms flailed while explaining something. Wide grins spreaded over both of their faces before a round of giggles overcame them. Faced near each other in secretive closeness, they held on the other’s arms strongly while their bodies shook in held down laughter.

He wanted to know what they were to each other, how back they went and why they held each other so familiarly and he wanted to do the same with her. It was like a new emotion, jealousy he had never experienced.

His pleading stares must have awoken some mercy in her. The young lady bid goodbye to her friend and gracefully walked over to him, still holding his gaze. And even though Aemond’s attention the whole night was fixated on the image of her, now that she was there, he was lost for words.

“Evening.” The cheeky smile was back and if it was to disarm him it worked perfectly. Lost in his nervous thoughts, he chewed on his cheek, an anxiety filled bad habit he picked up as a kid. It took him a moment to realize she was patiently waiting for his reply. He completely forgot he was meant to give her his greeting too.

“Evening.” He could only mutter his reply. Needles of uneasiness prickling along his spine, giddy feeling spread through him now that he was once again near her. He needed to set it right, courage boiling his throat but no words came out, he was overwhelmed by all of it. His solace was found in a similar scene in front of him.

She, like himself, was in a frozen state, mouth open, ready to speak and eyes moving all around the room, searching for something to say. Both of them desperately need to say something to the other, not only to fill the silence but for the simple reason to converse with the other one.

The voices and music completely overwhelmed them and while they hoped it would soothe some of the anxiety over their failed meetings it only fueled their nerves more. Their eyes met again, corners of their mouths simultaneously lifted, smiling like idiots. And there was a silent understanding between them. The ballroom is too loud, let’s move it to the balcony.

The balcony itself was absolutely quiet, there was no one who would disturb them. Night cold breeze was slowly picking up but the heat from the inside was enough to keep them satisfied. He could not see the outside properly, lights blinding his vision of their surroundings and he liked it this way.

Maybe this time he would not come off as a rude idiot to her, maybe this time it could all end well. Both of them stood with their backs to the lights of the ballroom, only darkness before them and cold railing underneath their hands. The silence between them was comfortable, for now at least.

Aemond was aware of the intense stare she was giving him, precisely his fake eye and the scar dividing the bad eye socket into two. It had been years since he gained the injury, the scar no longer dark reddish color but more of a white pink, it faded slowly, plus his mother begged his father to pay for laser treatment to help it fade out quicker. He also got gifted the new fake eye, his mother was absolutely ecstatic over it, her sweet son’s face finally appeared more normal.

He knew she did not mean it that way but it still hurt, and the eye itself hurt or maybe it was the injury itself. If only he could wear his eyepatch to these kinds of events but according to his mother it was too eye-catching (pun not intended) compared to the fake eye even though if someone looked at him for too long they would probably notice not only the scar but the fact he could not fully open the eye or the lack of movement in it. And so fake eye it was.

“How did it happen?” Her eyes softly cascaded over his face before settling on his bad eye again.

“It was…,” Aemond felt like he couldn’t breathe, not this conversation again ,” an unfortunate accident.” Over the years he had dozens upon dozens of people asking him the same question and not stopping snooping even with his short answers cutting them off.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Her attention turned to the crowd behind them, they might have moved to one of the balconies but the noise of people was still present.

“It’s okay.” He hummed, never knowing what to say to those who pitied him over the injury. “It happened years ago.” Aemond hardly ever thought about it now, it worked as a bitter reminder of his own carelessness in the end. And while some responsibility laid with his cousins and brother he knew it was his decision, he couldn’t blame them for it even if he did at the start.

“It’s more purple.” Her attention was back on him, staring right at the fake eye once again.

“What?”

“The other eye.” Her delicate hand pointed to his left side of face. “It’s more purple.” Aemond knew the prosthetic he got was not identical in the color to his other eye and while others claimed he was only imagining it, he knew. He knew it was not the exact shade of purple like his other eye.

People always saw the younger son of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, second born son, the Targaryen boy, not Aemond. Not the young Baeltigar, she looked at him, not through him, not at his family, not at his very possibly, almost surely, shiny future thanks to his name.

He had never felt so seen in his life and being known by her became a carnal need to him.

This time it was his mother who called for a saving of an older sibling, in the middle of the night Aegon had sneaked away from Cole’s watchful eyes and ended up drunk as the dirty pig he was. They must have found him half asleep on some naked lady’s back in one of the private rooms of the manor the event was at, his hair was a complete mess, his earring already gone and tie let loose. Aemond expected him in a worse state than this, most of the time he was called to him half dead, this was nothing compared to those times. But his mother was red faced, completely embarrassed by his brother’s antics.

Light pink

It was weird, feeling this nauseating feeling within him. Aemond felt like a little boy again, excited for another gala where he could show how perfect of a son he is. When he was still a child he would parade himself around, maybe because his mother and father did not, while Aegon got all the attention.

However, this time it was different, this time it was only because of one person, one person’s perception of him. He was excited to see her and for her to see him. Their last talk left him hopeful for more.

This time it was her who found him, dressed in light pink fabric that was easily floating around her in the soft breeze, she found him right after dinner. He was just thinking about the appetizer, perfectly composed plate with balanced flavors but he could not figure out what the sauce was made out of. It was a little game he liked to play with himself, so he wouldn’t lose his mind over the boredom.

“Are our meetings destined to be cut short every single time?” With a champagne flute in hand, another occupied by a whole bottle of it, casually staring him down with a light smile gracing her face, she talked comfortably to him.

“Hope not.” He could feel corners of his mouth twitching and soon a similar smile appeared on his face. It warmed his heart that she was the one to find him, that he was not the only one searching for her and she herself was on a mission to find him.

Just like the white dress, or any other actually, the light pink shade suited her. The thin fabric of the short sleeves hid her shoulders away from him but he was still fascinated by the soft skin of the inside of her arm. He could feel the twitch of his fingertips over the thought of touching her there.

Once again soft silence creeped on them while the both of them observed his older brother, balancing one glass of whiskey in his hand while trying to stay upright, his attention far away from the liquor spilling over the brim but on the young lady in front of him. If it was anyone else Aemond might have felt embarrassment bubbling up to the surface but since he had seen her own older sister in similar state, her presence left him unmoved by it.

“I think some part of me hates him.” The words left him before he could fully comprehend what he was saying.

She hummed at that, it was a comforting sound he did not deserve, at least in his head. No proper brother could say something like this about his sibling. Regret was a bitter friend to his heart and to his mind. He should not have said that, not to her, she should not know how angry he was inside.

“He is my brother.” He tried to convince her of his sins against his family, his kin. Part of him did not want to acknowledge fully what he said, he prayed to stay in her good grace, in everyone’s good grace by being the good son, the good Targaryen boy, polite, smart, sophisticated.

“I know.” She laughed with ease and Aemond knew the bitter feeling was not going to fade away, as always. He could not escape the regret of speaking out, he did not deserve any pity.

“It’s so hard to explain to anyone.” The words fell off his tongue so freely, Aemond thought someone else was using his mouth to voice out their concern.

“Right?” Another comforting sound came out of her and maybe the bitterness could fade away from him, from both of them. He could feel it radiating from her skin, they were so similar and unaware of it until now. “Everyone always tells me to just let it go-, you don’t own them anything and yadayada-, but I can’t-”

“Because she is your sister.” Before she could finish, he knew what she was going to say, he knew those words too well. Everyone said them to him, let it go, let your brother go, he will fuck up and he will have to solve it. However, he could not because in the end he was the one getting voicemails of his drunk brother’s voice, panicked calls from his mother, there was no escaping it, his blood, his family tree tied him to this whole mess. Just like her.

“Yeah…” she nodded, tired from the whole situation. “Exactly.” He did not like the line between her brows, frown caused by his voice, his words. He wished to never see that expression on her face ever again.

“We can’t save them.” The wind pushed the words away from the pair and neither of them knew who uttered them first or who regretted them before the other one.

Another sip of champagne turned into two and then a long gulp, they shared the alcohol so freely, Aemond felt like he could fly in the sky, happy butterflies flapping their wings on the inside of him. She soon downed her flute and instead of filling it back up her hand set the glass down with a clink.

The light from the ballroom framed her perfectly, creating a vibrant halo around her silhouette. And again Aemond was lost at the vision of her. She was so comfortable in her skin, in her own struggles, in this situation. She felt comfortable even to him and he wanted her to remain comfortable for the rest of her life.

And so he nudged her shoulder with the champagne bottle, creating a moist trace below her armlet. For a moment he was hypnotized by the droplet and its slick path trailing down her arm. He envied it for even a longer moment, to trace her skin to him is to die of the fire inside him.

Her hand gripped the bottle, tilting it slightly, another sip of the still cold liquor ended in her mouth. And with that he realized she drank alcohol like Aegon did, with no struggle, with no twitch in her face over the bitter taste, like she liked the feeling of it hitting her tongue. He missed the weight of the bottle in his hand and the empty feeling started to itch on his skin, before he realized.

It felt almost intimate, his cheeks aflame and the little boy in him was kicking his feet. An indirect kiss. He drank from the bottle himself before her, their lips touched the same surface.

He did not even notice how the evening turned into a night, only darkness now facing them on the balcony high above ground. Voices behind them have yet to tune down but he could feel the event slowly ending.

And the familiar man was back, simply nodding to her not daring to step even a bit to them, only glancing at them from the inside of the big hall. The smile on his face might have been in a friendly manner but his round glasses hide the glint in his black eyes.

“What are you two?” Throughout their conversations Aemond realized he liked how she enjoyed his forwardness, just like he did with her. There was no shame between them.

“Me and…” there was a slight twitch in her face and she tried to contain it, unsuccessfully in the end “Kim?”

Kim.

He did not mind the name, it went over his tongue and he swallowed it slowly. It was not a name he hated, it just felt unfamiliar. However, he was not afraid of it, not with her by his side. The fox be damned.

The laughter was soft, almost scaring him for a moment. Whispered giggles as if she tried to hold it in, turned into a full blown cackling. Her body bending forward with hand set on her stomach, she looked at him, shining once again.

“He is my friend. Like an uncle… some sort of, I guess.” She giggled at these words. Quick glance and he saw Kim looking their way again, smirking in a conspicuous manner.

“Oh.” Embarrassment reddened his cheeks, shattering any kind of thoughts left in his stupid thick skull, except for the two voices.

Of course.

They are just friends.

Calm down.

Thank god.

Tucking on his sleeve, he turned his full attention back to her. His body was so close to hers, he could almost distinguish the shape of the lights reflecting in her eyes. And her wide eyes only stared at him. Aemond could get used to this kind of attention, he loved it too much for his liking. It was intoxicating.

Her arms enveloped him, she folded him into her embrace like it was nothing, it was an instinct to her. Even Aemond could feel she needed him close, a secret message embedded into the touch but the meaning was evading him. Both of them knew though, this meant something to both of them and it calmed them.

She was holding him so close and so gently, he never ever experienced something like this. No one ever treated him this way, he almost thought he did not deserve it. It was foreign but not unpleasant but he still felt undeserving of this. To receive kindness was a different kind of punishment for him. Warm touch burning him to the bones, scarring him, it was an awful feeling like nothing else. However, this felt holy, as if gods decided to bless his horrible mind. His horrible mind that only thought of her, how he could keep himself in her presence. She was warm and kind, dark as a shadow and present in everything. No, there might be a holiness in her touch, that kind he might become slave to, but to her, there was nothing saint. She was rotten, broken and mend on the inside like him and still she decided to look at him as if complete, as if she accepted it. And Aemond knew he could never get enough of it.

At that moment it was apparent to him. Hell existed and for them it was their sacrifices for their families, expected of them and without reward. Hell for them was sewed into their blood and they couldn’t do anything about it just obey the law set upon them by the iron chain in their veins.

Her movement unsettled him, afraid of losing her warmth, calmness now in disarray in his heart. She moved away, just slightly but enough that they could see into each other's eyes and there was uncommon indecision in her stare, and then she moved again.

The first touch of her lips was hesitant, almost shy and maybe it was all the alcohol playing with his brain, Aegon oftentimes blabbered with his drunk mouth about beautiful dreams of even more beautiful ladies before Aemond woke him up to get him home. But if it was a dream, he hoped it would last a lifetime before he himself had to be awoken.

It was soft, almost innocent. Her lips just gently touched his before courage overtook her and something hungry awoke in him. What was once a gentle embrace soon turned into a violent clash, their mouths fighting against each other, devouring more and more of the other person. There was no stopping now, any kind of will of holding themselves back was gone forever. They stepped over the line, now open for crossing.

Her hand gripped his forearm urging him closer, each kiss more hungry, igniting something within him. Soon a soft skin met his neck, gripping the hair at the base and tugging. In that moment his legs almost gave up on him, the overwhelming feeling consuming him completely, his mind, his body and his soul.

That's how life should be, he thought, being drunk and kissing a pretty girl, kissing her.

Her warmth suddenly left him and the young Targaryen had no desire to open his eyes, too afraid of the dream ending. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed he would never wake up, she would never leave and her touch on his skin would be still present.

Another soft kiss tore him up from that fantasy, this time on his cheek and what he saw was a vision he never wished to forget. Her cheeks were red, hair a complete mess, absolutely breathless, trying to calm down but still the most beautiful person he has ever met. Pupils blown wide moving across his face, her smile reached her eyes and her whole face was bright.

“I have to go.” He did not like those words. No, there was no ending to it now, they were meant to kiss forever until both of them suffocated, unable to leave the presence of the other.

“No.” His voice was hoarse but the implication of his words seemed too stern for his fogged brain.

“My taxi is here.” Her hand moved, pointing to the yellow car parked and waiting for the next passenger. The smile she gave him was reassuring, lulling him back to the foggy fantasy of kissing her again.

“Oh.”

He watched her wave goodbye to a few people, leaving in their own cars or by other taxis, he himself should get moving, find his brother and leave too. However, he could not move, his body rigidly straightened, neck craning to catch a few last more glimpses of the car she left in.

And even with her once again gone, Aemond’s mind was dizzy and belly full of butterflies.

“Awww, you smooched the girl.” His brother giggled from the coach, his form morphing into the soft cushions, with one of his sweaty hands grasping for the bottle set on the coffee table. While his brother was occupying the coach, his oldest cousin took the armchair next to it, spreaded out just like Aegon. Luke, the younger cousin of his, was meanwhile seated next to his brother but on the ground with his back to the armchair, with one cushion stuffed under him, functioning like a seat.

All of them were in some state of disarray, of course his brother the most. Aegon’s tie was missing, just like his suit jacket and one of his shoes. If he knew one of his feet was bare, not counting the dirty sock still stuck on it, he did not let it be known by anyone. The white shirt he wore was sticking to his skin and some of the buttons were undone throughout the night, Aemond could see the tiny stain on his right wrist. White wine or whiskey, he wasn't sure. Compared to him both of Jace’s shoes were present, his hair a complete mess just like Aemond’s, and while he took off his own suit jacket it was apparent that tomorrow won’t be pleasant for his head. The most kept of them was young Luke presumably because Jace did not let him drink more than a flute of champagne through the dinner and a few sips of the wine served at the event.

“You didn’t have to call them here.” Aemond waved his hand to their cousins. His older brother decided to end his night with a big sweet treat as a finale, Aemond’s humiliation. It took him one text, snap exactly, to their cousin Jace and they were all here, in Aemond’s apartment. At least Baela and her sister went out for more drinks and were not present, plus Heleana already left because she felt too tired, bless her heart.

“Oh, come on.” Aegon was enjoying it all, the panicked expression of his brother, the utter confusion of their cousins and most of all, the drink he was finishing. “Take this as a…,” his arms motioned into the open living room, searching for the correct words,“family bonding experience, eh?” His brother’s face was once again graced by a cheeky smirk. Once more Aemond felt like a joke, as a tired, drunk joke but he knew if he decided to go to bed, sleep would not overcome him, only panic would.

“So… How did it happen?” Young Luke piped up, his ears turning a light shade of pink. At least Aemond was not the only one embarrassed by the conversation.

“Well-, I-I kissed her?” Shrugging his shoulders, Aemond tried to act as if talking about it was not bothering him at all, as if it was another normal conversation.

“That sounded more like a question, mate.” This time it was Jace who spoke up, not giving Aemond even a glance, occupied by his phone, possibly texting Baela, while still part of the conversation.

“We… kissed…” He was at a loss of words, how does he describe it…. It wasn’t like this was Aemond’s first kiss, far from that. There were some girls in school when he was younger, few relationships, notably with Alys, that one had a nasty end. “And… so- like…,” The whole conversation was not only irritating his nerves and his brain but his eye, the old scar pulsing under the pressure of the talk and even the fake eye.

Fuck. I need to get it out.

Aemond was still uncomfortable with taking his fake eye out in front of… well basically anyone and while he could go search for the eyepatch he wore instead of the artificially created prosthetic, his nerves did not allow him to move.

His silence was not taken lightly by the men in his living room, each of them racking their brains as to why someone like him was unable to describe what happened.

“But it was like…” Jace nodded his head, trying to indicate the words without saying them,” y’know… consensual?” At this Aemond’s pacing stopped, it all happened too fast. Did HE kiss her first? He definitely didn’t have enough courage to kiss her first, did he? Maybe the alcohol, maybe she…

“I… think so?” Memories in Aemond’s head started to swim, prompted by an anxious feeling setting in his chest, messing up his perception of the events or maybe it was the alcohol…

“Okay…” He did not like this reaction from his brother one bit, nerves one level higher and he might definitely explode. The whole room was slowly but surely getting influenced by his own nerves in the end not helping him ease his mind at all, more like provoking him to descend to madness more and more.

“So that kiss was like… alright, eh?” Aegon’s unsure face was also not helping his nervous mind.

“Eh…” He did not like this sound, he himself did not know where it came from but the tone prompted everyone to silently pounder for a few seconds before they arrived at their separate conclusions.

All eyes turned to his tall frame, mouths slowly opening. “Don’t.” He tried to shut them down promptly, hand raised at them once again, especially if their conclusion was that he was a bad kisser.

“But what if she actually doesn’t like you?” Aegon’s words cause them to think again while Aemond pointed his finger at him, fuming and ready to slap his brother over the head.

“Wait a second…” He tried to gain footing in the conversation but it was a losing battle. “I am just saying that-” This time Aemond was sure to swat his hand toward his brother, meters away, meant to not cause any harm but to at least scare him a bit.

“Hold on,-” Luke was unsuccessfully trying to defuse the situation, getting this conversation might have been going the wrong route.

“He did not mean it like that!” Jace too tried to intercede the whole ordeal but just like his younger brother completely unsuccessful.

“Yeah and how the FUCK did he mean it then!?” Aemond’s nerves finally gave up, letting out his fury.

“Calm DOWN!” The armchair under Jace screeched after he pushed it in an attempt to stand up, ending up back in it after losing his balance.

“He WAS JUST SAYIN-” It was Luke’s turn to get up or it was simply prompted by his brother moving his back support.

“I DON’T CARE!” His throat felt tight, scratched from the volume of his voice. He knew he was losing it but he could not stop.

The words took everyone by surprise. They were used to some mean and angry words from Aemond, he was antisocial on his better days and if pushed far enough he would get cruel in some fucked up way to hide himself from the world. However, to see him bubble over, to let himself scream so unapologetically… this was the first time for any of them to witness, even Aegon got quiet.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” It came out more like a whisper, an involuntary sound escaped him and Aemond was finally ready to collapse, to throw it all out of the window, lose it completely and most embarrassingly ready to cry in front of them.

“I mean, maybe she likes y-” Aegon’s voice piped from his right, still on the coach he was subtly hiding behind his now empty beer bottle.

“YOU said that MAYBE SHE DOESN’T LIKE ME!”

“I am sure she likes you.”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT?”

“WELL, I WAS NOT THERE!”

But this time Aegon was down to yelling it out along with his brother, the alcohol or just his rude nature supporting him in the decision. The screaming match went on for quite some time, Luke and Jace slowly joining, the living room becoming louder and louder, Aemond’s downstairs neighbors were sure to call the police any minute now. At the end none of them knew how the screaming match started, who argued with what or what they were arguing about, the alcohol dulling their sense of reason.

“Why are you all yelling?!” Baela’s agitated voice sounded from the front door, she was still in her coat while Rhaena had her shoes already off.

And then inferno began once more, voices shouting over each other in a chaotic symphony.

“RHEANA!”

“BAELA! YOU WON’T BEL-!”

“WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T LIKE M-!”

“YO AEMOND KISSED -!”

For a moment they all quieted down, catching their breath, bodies heaving and faces reddened, fingers still pointed at each other. “What?” Rheana asked, turning her gaze to her sister in a confused manner. Baela instead looked unamused partly because she got used to such banter from the younger two men.

“DRINKS!”

All heads turned to Aegon whose attention was now preoccupied by the plastic bag dangling from Baela’s hand. She lifted her hand, dangling it in front of his face as some sort of bait. And while the girls lured Aegon into the kitchen with the bad set down on the kitchen counter, Aemond felt like crying. Crying like when he was a little kid, unable to escape his doom.

Bottles clicked against each other aggravating Aemond even more. His anxiety was spiking up, dizziness almost overcoming him. This could only result in another screaming match between all of them until he would give up and tell them to fuck out of his apartment, Aegon included, even if he had been sleeping on his coach for the last 2 months.

Speaking of which, his brother was once again attempting to open a new bottle of beer while the girls finally sat on the coach previously occupied solely by him. “Thanks for the keys.” Rheana’s outstretched arm was handing him his keys but Aemond felt drained of all energy. Instead of taking them he motioned for her to throw them, catching them with ease. The iron keys to his apartment comfortably cold from the outside night air, grounding him in his own body. He was fine, in his living room, in his apartment… and he was fine.

“So…,” Rheana could feel his uneasiness prompting her to tune down the volume of her voice to a soft mumble, almost whispering, “what was all of this about?”

“He kissed the girl,” Aegon shared on the behalf of his brother. Aemond was not sure if it was for his own sakes or if he simply wanted to be the one to break the news once again.

“The girl?” Her eyebrows raised, Baela motioned with a light smirk to Jace to continue, to indulge her curiosity. And he would of course indulge her as always. “Yeah.”

“Wait… what girl?” Her sister spoke up, this time louder while another cheeky smile played on Baela’s face, giggling like a schoolgirl ready to receive another juicy rumor.

So Aemond recounted the story one more time, this time properly with some actual details. They talked, shared some personal stuff, and when it came to saying goodbye she kissed him before leaving in a taxi. He made sure to leave out the details of his knees buckling every time she had touched him or the fact he could still smell her shampoo and was still thinking about her eyes, lips, everything.

“Well, she is the girl.” Baela whispered mischievously, her elbow assaulting her sister’s side before the mischief in her face turned into another loud laughter. Rheana giggles had continued to sound throughout the room, waking him up again.

“Yeah?” Confused grimace overtook Luke’s face, his whole face scrunched in confusion. “So?” With a nod Aemond tried to urge the girls to continue, almost not breathing over what might come out of their mouths. There was hope for his doing and where was hope was also disappointment.

“I can guarantee you she knows that she is THE girl” Rhaena laughed even more. “I mean SHE kissed him!” Aegon gave Aemond a pointed look which turned into a cheeky grin before a hysterical laughter overcame him, realizing they truly might have been overthinking the whole situation. The bottle of beer he was holding up to his mouth for a not sip shaking violently, spilling some of its content out on his shirt, adding to the mess of him.

“Honestly, guys… I don’t know what you are all debating over” The sisters bumped their shoulders, giggling like little girls, excited over the information. “She obviously likes him.” And even more loud giggles followed, Aegon gradually joining in with his screeching laugh, not holding back.

“Shit.” Faint murmur left his lips. Realization setting in, he might have kissed her but she was definitely the first one to make a move.

This was one of the worst and best nights in his life.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #ewan mitchell #isa writes #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #asoiaf #modern au

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toorumlk · 8 months ago

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Hey, sorry to bother you but, I just wanted to say that I LOVE you and your art! It’s so beautiful! I would love to see more Drarry art by you, if it’s not too much of a bother, I really like the way you draw Draco. Ofc if you don’t want to, you don’t have to, I just thought it would be nice. If my request, in some way, made you uncomfortable or uneasy, then I owe you my deepest apologies, it’s was never my intention to hurt you in anyway possible. Again, sorry for bothering and I love you, your art is so beautiful and inspirational, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, take care love 😘❤️

ohhh you are so sweet thank you so much for liking my art!! you have nothing to apologize for my friend, if anything i should for making you wait for a response

you seem so kind and sweet… so i hate to break that i’m not the biggest fan of draco……….

since reading the books, he’s become one of my least liked characters, but it wasn’t always like this ! when i was movie watcher (so literally up until i’d say december 2023), i liked him quite a bit! during this time drarry was also one of my favourite ships, definitely my favourite harry ship! i liked them so much as a ship actually that i’ve outlined a whole fic of them post-war that i still hope to finish this year!

for you, i’ll share my one (1) page of draco exploration and some doodles of scenes from the aforementioned fic

i mean look at these twinks (affectionate)

enjoy!

#harry potter #drarry #pro drarry #anti drarry #you choose i have no idea which i am #harry james potter #draco malfoy #you……#harry potter fanart #hp fanart #my art #nusreplies

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lilybecca1 · 6 days ago

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Hi! Can I ask your top 5 fav BKDK fics recs? Thx so much 🥰

Hi! Sure! *Pulls out a list*

Okay just kidding

I've read like a TON of bkdk fics so far but the ones that actually got to me are just a few.

Starting with: The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh

Yeah, no one can say that it's overrated because it's the absolute best bkdk fic I have ever read out of, well, A LOT. It's also the first ever bkdk fic I have ever read, which doubles the attachment I have towards that fic cause imagine being introduced to the world of fanfictions about your favorite ship and starting out with THE saint scroll of BakuDeku 😭 that fic set the bar higher than the freaking Mount Everest and it left a lasting scar in me so yeah, I don't think any other fic will ever top that one. It's a must read, if you're a BKDK shipper and haven't read it yet that's illegal. TWYUTD is my shrine.

Second one, I would have to say In the Dark by Jane_Harl0w. Actually, my top 4 fic recs are all some of the first fics that I have read so that probably contributes to the reason why I have such high expectations of bkdk fics 😂 Like the beginning of In the Dark, holy sh*t. Almost as good as TWYUTD. And the ending freaking broke me. (Spoilers ahead). I remember reading the second to last chapter and I kid you not, I was in DISTRESS, cause there was only one more chapter left and no way the story was going to have a good ending cause they were kidnapped and there's no way in hell they would survive and escape when there's ONE chapter left. And then I clicked on the last chapter and saw the "Trigger warning: s**cide" and I broke 😭 I'm pretty sure I cried for hours cause I seriously believed they were gonna die and the absolute DREAD I felt when I knew the story wasn't going to have a good ending. But then it actually did have a good ending, and that's the only reason why In the Dark isn't number 1, because I would have been traumatized for life if the story actually ended how I thought it would.

There was also a lot of fluff and I loved their interactions, it reminded me of how they would have been like as childhood best friends. Although I kind of hated all the smut ngl, that ruined it for me a little. Without it, In the Dark would definitely rival TWYUTD for me.

Number 3: actually I have no idea what the fic's title is cause my stupid ass didn't save it and I haven't been able to find it ever since. It was about Deku and Bakugo finding out that fanfictions exist about each other and a whole lotta pining through it all. This one wasn't even finished, but it was the first time I ever came along this concept and the way it was written was reaaaaaally good. If someone finds it please drop the name cause I've been searching for it for months 😭 I'm pretty sure it ended with Endeavor walking in on them having some "fun" lmao.

Number 4 is Operation BakuDeku by ratnotfound

It's a crack fic, I remember it being hilarious af, also there's a lot of fluff. Really loved the texting theme in it and the class interactions. Even Mineta lmao. People can hate on him as much as they want but he can be funny as hell sometimes.

I actually wasn't sure what to put on the number 5 spot but I ended up with Fire Lily by EtherealBeing. The reason I loved this fic so much is because of the world building. Cause like goddamn I could make my own fanfiction about the world alone 😂 the angel world, the demon world, the lore behind God and the Deep, everything was so genuinely interesting to read that I swear I enjoyed the world building better than the actual bkdk in it lmao. (Although that church scene was kinda top tier ngl)

Also honorable mentions:

Deku Enchanted by s_the_queen (didn't finish it but the beginning was hilarious af, I swear it's one of the funniest I've read out of all of them. Deku basically gets hit by an obedience quirk which makes him obey whatever people ask from him, creating a lot of...interesting situations lmao )

They ship us? by Raltaya (don't remember it much but it was pretty good. It's about Bakugo and Deku finding out about their ship and then pining for each other)

If I Have You by dommymommy (it's not finished yet but the ANGST and it's not even the typical kind of angst, it's actually good and it deals with more mature feelings than just simple pining and being flustered around each other. Their relationship is much more grounded in this one, but with a lot more heavy feelings than other fics. I definitely recommend reading it, it filled my soul with warmth. It's the perfect example of when you know you love each other but it hurts too much to be together)

I've read tons of Villain Deku fics but so far Forget Me Not by Scorned_By_Thornz (WynterThornz) was the only one that actually made me believe that he COULD become a villain. The pure angst, humiliation, and sickening feelings between them is just wow. Prime example of how a relationship can turn bitter even though you love each other. Has a good ending, but man I feel sorry for Izuku for how they treated him in the fic.

Dreams Change People by FireRuby1 (it's a time travel fic where they get stuck in the past and relive their childhood experiences. Lots of good moments but the moment when Bakugo relived the river scene was what sold me.)

To Stand by Your Side by aeronines (also didn't finish this one cause I was too impatient...yeah, I have commitment issues, anyway...but this fic was actually really good, Bakugo is younger in this one and Deku is a pro hero, and it was very interesting to see their dynamic this way)

Hero Class Civil Warfare by RogueDruid (Icarius51) (Not specifically bkdk but Deku is really f*king smart in this one, the plot twists are insane, like fr kudos to the author for coming up with them cause I for sure would have never been able to. The story itself is about a competition between the Hero and the Villain team, and Bakugo is the leader of the Hero team while Deku is the leader of the Villain team. The Villain team is low-key badass in this one)

Mirror Image by Eleke (Bakugo gets sent through the multiverse in this one. Pretty interesting AUs appear, and I liked the ending a lot)

In Another Life by Hollandvice (A part of me died with this fic. But in a good way. Like it could have had the opportunity to complete break my soul if the ending went down differently, so thank f*ck that it didn't, I narrowly avoided future heart problems. It's damn well written and I recommend it to everyone who wants to read an emotionally impactful story)

Get on my Level by Mikacrispy (this time Bakugo is the pro hero and Izuku is the younger one. Lots of fluff and I really loved the ending, it was very touching)

To Win You Again (with trembling hands) by DoesItSaySassOnMyUniform (this fic was amazing, especially the ending. I absolutely loved their confession, it was the most realistic confession I have ever seen in any fic so far)

That's it, I hope you'll like these fics too! 💚

#bnha #mha #bkdk #bakudeku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakugo #deku #mha fics #mha fic rec #mha fic recs #bnha fic recs #fic recs #ask me anything #ask lilybecca1 #ask tumblr #questions and answers

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mrsjavierpena · 11 months ago

Text

not (un)expected | part 1

javier peña x f!secretary!reader

summary: Javier has one, only one very strict policy: to not ever fuck a co-worker; specially if that co-worker is his own secretary. but you make it such a hard promise to keep

chapter warnings: narcos' spoilers, smut, grinding, unprotected p in v, kind of exhibitionism, (light?) angst, a lot of cursing (its javier pena), kinda slow burn/slow start, unspecified age gap, work dynamics, reader has no name/descripition (but has hair long enough to pull), no use of 'y/n'

IMPORTANT: English is not my first language, i've done my best with grammar but there will be mistakes (fuck prepositions i hate them), so pls overlook those

wordcount: 7k

an: this is part one of a two part story; feel free to reblog and leave your comment. im so happy with the reception of this fic, its my first time posting something here, thank you guys so much for the support - also, if you want to be tagged in part two (really don't know when is coming out) just lmk in the comments.

hope you enjoy!

Javier was known for being an asshole.

Everyone in the office called him that; not to his face, of course, since he was the boss, but he knew, and honestly? He kind of did it on purpose. Being sent back to Colombia to be the CIA puppy didn't in fact thrilled him, but he also wasn't there to make friends. A little bit later than one month into his new position and Javier had already changed secretaries twice. Just by being himself.

The first one was a kind old lady that liked to talk a little bit too much for Javi's taste - which was none. To be fair, he tried to handle her. He listened to her talking of her yougest child finishing college, but she asked him if maybe he could get him a job at the deparment - what in the actual fuck? -, she felt the need to tell him that her older one and his wife were trying to have a baby - he wondered what gave her the impression he wanted to know that her son was fucking someone raw. She just wouldn't shut up. She left not much after a month, at his first snap - took him too long, to be honest.

The last one was a young man fresh out of the academy, who thanked him for the opportunity every time he saw him - which, since he was just outside his office, was pretty often. Despite how thankful he was for the job, he wasn't very interested in working, at least not as he was to flirting with another secretary in the floor below. But that wasn't the worst part, the kid had no idea what he was supposed to do and would go ask Javier for help for every task given to him - he swore he was shaking everytime. Javi didn't care that he was young and was learning, he didn't receive enough to raise a child at work. Didn't last a week.

Javier had headaches just by the thought of who would be sent next. With his current luck, it could be his ex-fiancée. He definitely didn't expect you knocking on his office door and introducing yourself as his new secretary. He was speechless for a moment; you were the combo of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life with a killing black pencil skirt, so tight it showed all your curves. You gave him a firm handshake and asked if he needed anything from you, and, when he denied, that was it. You went to your desk; didn't ask him questions, didn't tell him your whole life, didn't thank him for an opportunity he didn't give you, just went to do your work.

For a while, Javier was glad that you didn't give him any trouble, but that was until you quickly learned his habits. As soon as he arrived the office, you would receive him with a polite smile, a cup of black coffee and his schedule for the day. When he dove into files and forgot he was a person, you would bring him his lunch and wouldn't leave until he had at least a bite - as if he was a kid, what an absurd -, you would sense when he was stressed and would excuse yourself into his office with coffee and a pack of cigarettes and leave without saying a word.

He hated how much he appreciated that - even worse, how he liked that. It didn't take long for him to want to fuck you, to become obssessed with you. And it wasn't just him, he could see every other men in the department - single or not - turn their neck as they watched you pass by. But it was not just that you were hot, you were nice too; he would watch you from his office - not in a creepy way, though, he just didn't have anything much better to do - and you would distribute smiles and polite greetings to every soul that passed your desk, people would constantly stop by to small talk with you and you would let them be for five minutes or so before politely dismiss them to go back to work. Every fucking body there adored you.

Things had always been very professional between you both. Javi held back his flirty instinct and you- well, you didn't even seem interested in him at all. That was untill a very stressfull friday with Stechner giving him shit again. He left the building straigh to the bar, ready to drown himself on whiskey and find a quick fuck for the night, not expecting at all to find you aparently doing the same. Javier considered just ignoring you and go sitting with one of the women that turned their heads in his direction as soon as he entered, but something inside of him made him take the few steps to the bar and get the stool beside where you sat.

You almost spilled your drink when he approached.

"Sorry" you coughed "Wasn't expecting to see you here"

Your body language told him that you weren't comfortable with him there, he saw your backs getting as straight as when you were at work, and immediately regretted joining you.

"Well, that makes it two of us" he raised his hand to order his drink "What's the occasion?" he points to your drink with his chin.

Your grip on your glass seemed to tighten and you took one very long sip before answering dryly "I could ask you the same"

"Work" he raised his brows "It's always work"

"Did something happen after I left?" you pinched your brows.

"No, no, just people giving me shit"

"Oh, I see..." you sighed and silence fell between you.

"So..."

"Well..." you both started talking together and laughed akwardly.

"You go" you said.

"Am I bothering you? Cause I didn't mean to, I can sit somewhere else" he didn't even know why he was asking, he should've just said goodbye and left. He was already standing when your hand found his arm.

You sighed heavily "No, not at all, I'm sorry I gave that impression, sir" you seemed genuine, that's why he sat back "I'm just stressed"

Sir. Why were you calling him sir in a bar?

"Do you want to talk about it? If there's something bothering you we can discuss it and sol-"

"It's not work related" you were quick to interrupt "Work is, honestly, the simplest part of my life right now"

"Things must be pretty bad then, 'cause I see the amount of papers on your desk everyday" that made you chucke "The offer still stands, if you want to"

You took a big breath before dropping the bomb "Broke up with my boyfriend"

Now that was a new territory. He knew absolutly nothing about your life besides you moving to Colombia from the United States; he didn't know anything from your life back there, not your family, friends, definitely not about your boyfriend; and now, somehow, knowing you didn't have one anymore made it even harder for him not to want you.

"What happened?"

"Well, actually, it seems like we had already broken up a while ago and he just forgot to send the memo" you drank your whole half glass all at once ", since he was fucking every pussy that crossed his fucking way"

He was stunned. One thing about Javier was that he was never to deny any woman; honestly, he found every body attractive and apreciatted every woman that gave herself to him. He couldn't say he had a type, but you, with what he saw with your clothes on? He would fuck you every minute of everyday he could. It was absurd to believe someone would give up on you.

"Damn!" he couldn't help but say loudly, making your eyes go wide as if just then realising what you had just said.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you this. I apologise, sir"

"You don't- don't apologise" he almost raised his hand to touch you, but stopped himself before "How did you find out?" you looked at him with raised brows "If you don't mind me asking"

"One of my friends called me last night and told me. She saw him at a bar with two women" you laughed, but there was no humor to be found.

"And you were still smiling at everyone at work today" he was impressed.

You smirked at him "Don't let my personal life mix with work, sir"

"Smart woman" he nods "We for sure have a reason to drink, then" waving his hand to the barman "Let me buy you one"

You don't even bother to refuse.

After three more glasses of what he found out was tequila, your shoulders were much more relaxed and so was your tongue. He found out that you and your ex had been dating for six years when you got the opportunity of job and had to move; two months had passed already.

"And you know what the worst part is?" your laugh is dry "I don't even feel bad because my heart is broken or any shit like that, it's just that is so fucking humiliating" you groaned with your hands on your face "I'm from a small town, you know, by now every soul there knows what he's been doing"

He had to laugh "That's what you're worried about?" you looked at him with false ofense.

"It's my honor we're talking about here!" he laughed even more "It's silly, I know..." you sigh shakly as you take another sip of your drink "But it is humbiling, being cheated on"

"I can't fucking believe anyone could ever cheat on you" he thought. At least he thought he did, but by the way you were looking at him - pinched brows and a curious look in your face, he had to have said it out loud "I mean, only shitty people cheat on nice people. Only shitty people cheat, that's it."

You nodded after a few seconds of silence "You're right, sir"

"You should stop calling me sir"

"I don't think so"

"Why not? We're already half drunk together at a shitty bar"

"Because you're still my boss"

Without any response to that, he looks at you. Really looks at you. Your eyes glassy from the alcohol, red puffy lips looking more appealing than ever... It would have been so easy to just lean in and kiss you. When his eyes came back to yours, it almost seemed like they were on his lips too, that you were leaning in too, that you desired him as much as he desired you and... Then it was not there anymore. Suddenly, you seemed farther than ever, backs as streight as always and eyes avoiding his.

"I should go home"

He agreed. He put you on a cab. He wished you a goodnight.

Then went back to the bar to find someone to not spend the night alone.

The next Monday, though, you seemed even more professional than ever. Wouldn't be around him more than the necessary, wouldn't look him in the eyes and it fucking bothered him.

"Yes, sir?" you entered his office after he called your name.

He sighs as he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering to your skirt pressing against your tights "How are you?"

"I'm fine" you hesitated "Why do you ask? Is something wrong?"

"Lying to me, 's all" your eyes went wide "Listen, last night-"

Your nostrils flared, your hands clenching into fists; you took a deep breath before interrupting him "I am fine"

"Ok, then" he raised his hands in defensiveness "It's just that last night-"

"Last night I was drunk!" you passed your hands through your face "I said things I shouldn't have and I am embarressed and would very much appreciate if we pretended that it never happened"

Javier was silent for a moment. He understandood your apprehension, but damn if he wasn't dismayed by it.

"Alright, 'm sorry I brought it up. But just to let you know, you don't have anything to be embarressed for, you have my word that I wouldn't hold any if that against you and..." and it was nice to talk to you "Yeah, don't worry about that"

You looked at him for a few seconds before nodding "You need anything else, sir?"

Many things, yeah. For starters, you calling him by his name; second, being able to have a casual conversation with you when alcohol isn't envolved and third, your fucking clothes off because he got embarrassingly hard just by looking at you. But instead, he only denied and you left before any other word could leave his mouth.

Javi knew it was for the best. Fucking you would be no good - well, he'd bet it would be hot as shit, but too much trouble for a one night stand. He had a whole city to fool around with, to be focused in someone from his work place, his own secretary, was nonsense. You never even gave him any hint you wanted him, if anything, the actual opposite; you told him yourself last night, personal life away from work.

Javi made sure to remember all that.

➫

He didn't keep those thoughts for long, though.

A few days later, you met at a bar once again. A better one this time and with half of the office joined. It was Feistl's birthday and he invited the whole department for drinks. Nobody could hide their surprise when Javi aproached them; usually, he wouldn't attend this type of gathering, in his rarely free times, he better prefered the company of a good whiskey and a woman, and his colleagues knew that. His employee had invited him just to be polite and that was clear, but he knew you were going to be there, Javi just wanted one more opportunity to prove to himself that you didn't feel the same way he did, that he didn't have the same effect on you that you had on him. Once that prooved, he could move on. So he was there on a mission, trying to be the most discrete he could as he watched you from afar.

The two of you seemed to be the reflexion of each other from across the table, tense bodies and drinks in hand, the only difference being you talking with your colleagues and him not making the effort. To his defense, people weren't trying to talk to him either. Honestly, Javier kind of felt like it wasn't just that they were surprised to see him there, it felt like they didn't want him there at all by some looks he was receiving.

He was okay with that, he guessed, he would much rather analyse your behavior outside work. You didn't seem to change much, honestly; maybe your smile were a little bit more genuine, but the conversations were pretty much the same he heard you have back in the office and it could have been the larger amount of alcohol in your system that night, yeah, but you seemed more relaxed alone with him.

After half an hour there, Javi couldn't bring himself to talk to you, you seemed too interested in a conversation about the new coffee pot in the scullery with another secretary. He was getting frustrated, in another times he would interrupt the other woman and flirt with you effortlessly; it probably had to do with the environment, you were surronded by co-workers, or maybe he was losing his touch - it was almost like he was too afraid to make the move.

Javi decided to leave soon after one hour there. He congratulated Feistl for his birthday, said goodbye to whoever recognized his leaving, paid his bill and passed through the door.

"Hey" he turned around at the sound of your voice, seeing you walking towards him "Are you ok?"

He ran his hand over his chin "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know" you shrugged "you kind of ran out of the bar"

"'S fine, you should go back inside" Javi pointed at the entrace with his chin.

You tilt your head to the side "I don't really believe you"

"I'm not asking you to" he crossed his arms "And, what, you wanna talk now? You've been quiet at work all week"

"We're not at work, though, are we?" you were quick to answer.

Javi looked you up and down "No, we're not"

"You know" you took a few steps forward ", it's not like they don't like you, they are just kind of scared of you"

Were you watching him too? Why would you say that? How would you notice?

He furrowed his eyebrows "Scared of me? Why?"

You looked at him with yours raised "You know how you act at work, don't you?"

Javi sighed and looked away. He did act like an asshole at work, it didn't seem to bother you, though. Your gazes met again as silence fell between the two of you and he decided to take the few steps left to get you as close as you never got before.

"Are you scared of me?"

You kept your eyes locked as you answered "No. You're not as bad as you think you are" you licked your lips "At least not with me"

The air thickend between the two of you, the only sound being the noises of a night in Colombia. There was no way you were not feeling that too, the way your bodies seemed to linger to each other's direction. He's sure he's not imagining the way your breath heaved, how your chest expansed, the brightness in your eyes.

No, that was real, he was not mistaking it.

A voice broke the tension, you taking a few steps back to a safe distant from him. You both looked in the direction of the sound: a woman was calling you, the same woman you talked all night, at the entrance of the bar, a few feet away from where the both of you stood.

"Maybe if you went back there and paid the next round..." he swore he saw expectancy in your eyes.

"Maybe another time" you nodded; you both knew it wouldn't happen.

You looked at him one last time before walking away "Good night, sir"

Javi nodded even though you weren't looking anymore and his eyes followed the sweet swing of your hips as you made your way back to the bar. He could hear the woman asking what it was about:

"Nothing" you answered.

He would disagree.

➫

Javier was in a terrible, terrible mood. Things weren't going how he thought they would go, not even close to it. Feistl got a good lead about the Rodriguez brothers, one worth following, and he could do nothing about it; had to look to his subordinate and say no to his face. In the beggining, Javi had plans on reediming himself by catching Los Pepes, making amends with the city and it's people by arresting those who he felt like helped to ascend. He felt like a failure, and by the look on Feistl face, he thought so too. To worsen everything, as if it could get any, he had a huge, massive amount of piles to go through.

He lifted his eyes from the paper for the first time in hours when you knocked at the door. He knew your shift had ended a couple of hours ago, but you decided to finish the paperwork of the day so it wouldn't affect his own work the next morning, even though you couldn't have finished it on time because of the extra work put over you. It was something he frequently saw you doing, leaving much later than the others.

"I am leaving, sir. Is there something I could do for you?"

He scratched his chin and sighed heavily "Well, if you could make this fucking paperwork disappear I would built a statue of you"

You exiled a short laugh "I'm afraid that's not possible, sir"

"No, it's not" he reclined on his chair and looked at your body on the frame for a few seconds "Have a goodnight"

You nodded and left. He stood up to get a drink right after, hearing some noises outside that must have been you grabing your stuff. You were probably the last person on the floor besides him, and soon enough he would be alone, like he had been for so many nights, working until late, only able to go home to shower and come back. It wasn't much trouble, though, it's not like he could sleep even if he had the time.

A soft knock on the door surprised him, glass and bottle on each hand.

"Sorry to bother again" you said with only your head in the room after he told you to come in "But do you want help?"

He looked at you, at the pile and then at you again "You wanna help me with that?" you nodded "Why?"

"Nothing better to do" you shruged.

He should've said no. Should've told you to go home and have some rest.

He should have, yes.

"Have a sit" he pointed to the couch with the piles of papers he's been on for the last three hours.

You closed the door behind you and something on his skin tingled. You had never been this alone.

"Want a drink?" you didn't hesitate in accepting, as if waiting for him to offer.

Javier poured you one too and handed you the glass, something you thanked him for as you took a sip and he sitted beside you. You two stayed in silence reading, the only sound being the papers as you tossed them around.

"Can I give you an unasked opinion, sir?"

He almost laughed at that "Go ahead"

"You're separating these by topics, I see" he nodded "Taking one paper at the time and seeing what they are and then doing them separetly " he nodded again "I think it would be quicker if we made piles by the specific topics you have"

"You mean..."

"I mean" suddenly you stood up from the couch and knelt on the floor. Fortunally you didn't see his eyes going wide as you took a pile in your hands and put it beside you "You have a huge office, you should put the files on display and organize them better" you looked at him while taking the other piles "You helping?"

He smirked and hushed to help you. He liked this side of you; more relaxed, kind of bossy, tongue more loose... It was a shame you only showed him when there was alcohol running through your system.

"This, if you don't mind me saying, is how I organize the piles on your desk when I bring them to you, but you seem to prefer the hardest way"

Fuck, he was getting hard.

It was nuts. Absolutly nuts. What the fuck was happening, what effect was that you had on him? You did nothing but say a few dirty words without intention. Completely. Nuts.

"I do prefer the hard way" came out of his mouth before he could control it. If you didn't notice the double meaning or chose to ignore it, he didn't know "But I never noticed, no" he sighed "Honestly, I don't even know how it got to this point"

The paperwork, somehow, did accumulate, even though all he did of his life was working.

"I understand, I can see how you get lost in work" your focus was on the papers and you didn't seem to notice how he shifted on his place on the floor, trying to hide the beggining of an erection.

With your efficiency and new way of working, one hour and a half later and almost the whole paperwork gone, you're on your third glass and him on his fourth. He's used to drinking whiskey, but it was still alcohol, and it was making his skin buzz. You had already took off your blazer - his own gone hours ago - , wearing a thin blouse with a very modest neckline; your legs were crossed, making your skirt move up a little, and he was going crazy with just the tiny amount of skin you were showing.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead" you didn't even move your eyes from the paper.

"Why didn't you go home?"

You don't talk for a few seconds and he took the opportunity to stare "There's nothing waiting for me at home"

That got him thinking about your moving there. To go from a small town in the countryside to a city like Bogotá, not knowing a soul; you had acquaintances, yes, but he saw you that day at the bar, they surely were people you liked to be with, but were not friends of yours. Javi had been there, too, actually, if he would be honest with himself, he was still in the same situation. When he moved to Medellín, he had those people he could go out with and grab a drink after work, but that was all; at least until Steve came into the picture, the person he never thought he would befriend with, the only real friend he'd had in years.

"Yeah, I kind of get that" your eyes meet "Work until late for a reason"

"I guess we both need to get a life, then" you smirked.

"Cheers to that" he raised his glass to you, you did the same until it clicked with his "So, life... How is yours going?" he tried to act nonchalant by moving his eyes on the paper in his hand "With that ex-boyfriend thing and all"

Your laugh was low "Don't do that"

"Do what?" he raised his eyes again to find yours still on him.

You tilted your head to the side "Don't go down that road when we're like this"

"Like what?" he caught the exact moment your eyes fell to his lips, so he casually wet them with his tongue. If he wasn't so absorbed by the thickness in the air, he would have laughed at the way your eyes shut and your head fell back to rest on the couch.

"Drunk and... Not thinking straight"

Javi raised his eyebrows "I like the winding thoughts I'm having, though"

"Yeah" the look you gave him made him shiver.

Without breaking eye contact, Javi belted down his drink to gain courage and slowly moved his body until you were pressed side by side, giving you time to get your space again if you wanted to.

"This fine?" his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

You nodded.

"What if I wanted to kiss you right now?" he rested one forearm on the couch to lean his face closer to yours.

You gulped as you stared into his eyes "Then I think you should do it before we-"

He didn't give you the time to finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. Your lips were soft, he could taste the whiskey on your tongue as well with the gums you would chew all day. His right hand went straight to your jawline to lead the kiss. It was not a lulled kiss, neither a gentle one, Javier was ruthless, taking out on your lips all the built up tension from the last few months. He couldn't believe it was finally happening. You were quick to follow his pace, your fingers grasping his shirt and pulling him even closer. The first moan you let out get Javi even more eagered, his hand passing down your body to grab your ass. You took advantage of his action and, before he knew, you were climbing up his lap, knees on each side of his torso, and once you were fully sitted on his lap, you both couldn't contain a moan. At that point, your skirt barely covered half your ass; because of that, he figured that you wouldn't mind his hands slowly rubbing up your tights until they reached the fabric and rolled it up your waist.

Javi parted your mouths to take a good look at you on his lap, his eyes wandered from your heavy eyelids, your lips puffy and red from the kisses, your blouse-covered chest raising and falling as fast as his until they got to the black thong you were wearing and he couldn't help but moan "Oh, fuck me"

"You like them?" your mouth came down his neck to give him wet kisses.

"How wouldn't I?" he held you by the nape of the neck and brought your mouths together again "I've wanted this for so long"

You released some kind of laughter "I know"

"Oh, do you?" he raised his brows.

"You're not exactly subtle for an agent" you murmured between kisses.

He snorts "Well, thanks for the insight"

Javi couldn't resist the urge to touch you through the tiny piece of fabric and you moaned at the pressure at your clitoris, but he moaned too at the wetness he found.

Javi didn't ask you how long you had wanted him, you were grinding on his lap at that moment and that was all that mattered. But he wished you had said it, that you had desired him as much as he had desired you, that all this time he had been imagining this moment, you were imagining it too.

"Fuck baby, you are so wet already" his tongue licked a stripe on your neck "All this for me?"

You answer was muffled by a moan; it seemed positive, but before he could confirm you were linking your mouths again in a searing kiss.

You started moving your hips on his erection and you both moaned at the pressure. Suddenly, his torso is being pushed down to the ground, chests pressed against each other, your fingers tangled his hair and pushed and he fucking whimpered.

Jesus Christ, he was in heaven and was not even inside of you yet.

You grinded furiously against him and he found it absolutly beautiful how you were using him to pleasure yourself and was not embarressed to do so. So. Fucking. Hot.

He felt like he was coming in any second.

"Fuck, you keep doing that and will have me cumming on my fucking pants, bebita"

"Oh, say it again!"

"What? That I'm within seconds to cumming?"

You moaned loudly at that "No- I mean, that too, that's hot, but- oh fuck"

"Bebita?" he felt you shiver at the pet name and chuckled "You like that, huh?"

You grabbed the nape of his neck and lowered your head to crush your lips to his again, tongues fighting heatedly. Javi started to feel that heat boiling at the bottom of his stomach, his hips grinded against yours and the pressure were just perfect; by the sounds you were making, you were as close as he was. Javi reached for you ass and grabbed it with both of his hands and squeezed, adding even more pressure to the grindness. At last, he sucked the pulse in your neck and you started to shake above him; that combined with the sweet noises that came out of you, he was gone.

You collapse on top of him, fingers unconsciously running through his hair; his members were sore and he was so tired and satisfied that he could sleep right there. The both fo you took deep breaths while your head rested on the gap of his neck and his on the floor.

"I can't remember the last time I did this" he was the first to break the silence.

"I actually do this everyday to my pillow" you mumbered humurously and he moaned.

"Shit, you're gonna be the death of me" his hand ran up and down from your ass to your backs, loving the feeling of your curves.

You raised your head to find his eyes and the moment was gone. You both realizing what you just had done, the before contentedness in him that was mirrowed in your eyes then turning into panic.

"Shit" you clumsly stood up. You put your skirt down as quickly as you could.

"It's getting late" it was already late when you came to his office "I should go" you should stay, he wanted to say.

But instead he only nodded. He knew it was for the best. He shouldn't have let it come this far.

You quickly get your stuff and wishes him a goodnight. His eyes don't leave you until you pass through the door, yours, though, don't meet him once.

He stayed there on the floor, cum staining his pants, and even though he was fully clothed, the room had never felt colder.

➫

The next day was pure craziness. After you left his office, Javi went home, took a shower and lied in bed thinking of what had just happened between the two of you and what would happen from then on until he had to come back to work. Before he could even get to his office, you intercepted him with a cup of coffee and the news of a surprise and excruciating slow meeting with the ambassador, which led to another one with the CIA and then the atrocious combination of them both together. By the time Javi was freed from hell, everybody else were already leaving; due to your situation, he thaught that would be your case too, so he was surprised to see you still on your desk.

"I was waiting to see if you would need something else from me before I left" was your answer to the question on his face.

"I think I'm heading home too, actually" after a day like that, he felt like maybe he could even get some sleep.

He had work to do, yeah, and usually it didn't matter to him if his mind wasnt in the right place - it rarely was anyways -, but he knew nothing productive would result from working in that state. Javi also wanted to talk to you; he had so many thing in his mind, what he thought about during that whole previous night: he wanted you. So bad he didn't even know how to express it, so much he let himself cum in his pants just to get the little you were wailing to give to him. And he was concerned about what your reaction to that would be, because it was obvious that you wanted him too, but your actions showed him that you didn't want to want him. All those thoughts were consuming him, but it would have to wait for another day, he didn't think that was the right time, not at work. Maybe he could invite you for drinks and talk things through or-

"I was wondering if we could talk, too" you interrupt his thoughts "About yesterday"

If Javi wasn't a trained professional, he probably would've had his mouth opened in absolut shock. It was like you read his mind.

"Of course" you both looked around the department, the couple people remaining already preparing to leave. Still, he opened his office door and nodded for you to come in.

You were flustered, nervous even. Javi didn't know what to expect from that talk, he wished you would cave in to your needs and fuck him already, but he felt like you wouldn't be easy on him. Honestly, he couldn't read you.

The both of you stood akwardly in the middle of the room, door closed behind you. He waited patiantly for you to start talking, for you to take the lead of the conversation.

"So" you sighed "I wanted to apologise"

His face contorted in a deep frown "What for? You have nothing to apologise"

"I do, yes" you shook your head "It was completely irresponsible and unprofessional and we shouldn't have done that"

If you said you were embarressed last time, about the things you had said on the bar, Javi didn't know what you could possibly be feeling at that moment: your face was getting red, your eyes wouldn't meet his, your hands squeezed each other in your front; he kind of felt bad he was the cause of your discomfort.

"You didn't do anything by yourself"

"I jumped on you like a crazy-ass-horny woman!" over your shoulder, you look outside to see if there was anyone to witness your voice raising; there wasn't.

Javi could barely contain the smirk forcing itself upon his mouth at the memory of you riding him in that very same floor, just a few steps from where you stood. He really couldn't contain the beggining of an erection, though.

"And I loved that" you looked at him as if he was crazy for saying it "I did!" he took a few steps in your direction "And honestly, if anyone should be blamed it's me, I'm the boss, aren't I? The authority in the room or some shit like that"

The way you look at him said that you agreed, that he should be blamed too, should've had more self control, but you didn't say it and that made him smile, the way you still tried to keep your composure at work.

You sighed "Still, it wasn't right and I'm sorry"

"I'm not" he took another step towards you.

"It's not the point, sir"

"I don't think you are that sorry either" your brows raised in surprise "And fucking quit calling me 'sir' now, there's just us in here" another step.

"I'm just-" you shrugged "I'm trying to be professional, that's all"

"Baby we're a little too late for that now"

"Jesus Christ" you pinched the bridge of your nose, he could feel the frustration exhaling from you "You don't like to make things easy, do you?"

"What's the fun in that?" the joke landed flat "I have a proposal"

That got your attention "I don't think I like where this is going"

"Well, that's the thing" he took one more step "I think you do. You fucking grinded on me on this floor until we both came. You want me. What are you so afraid of?"

"You're my fucking boss!" your exasperation made him want to laugh and scream out of frustration at the same time "I like this job, I want to keep it"

"I would never put your job in risk"

"You can't be sure" it was true, Javi barely had a say in anything, but he would do anything in his power for you not to lose your job, especially because of him "And even if this" you pointed between the two of you "didn't make me lose it, it would be living hell if people found out"

"I can be discreet"

You crossed your arms "You're not taking me seriously"

"I am, I promise that I am" he really was "I just- You gave me a taste of what it would look like and now I'm starving for more" he scratched his chin, a little embarressed he let that slip out "I would do anything to have you for one night, we don't have to take work to the bedroom"

"Oh" you snorted "there's a bedroom in the scene now?"

"What?" he raised his brows "You thought I was fucking you in my office?" you went silent "You fucking did"

Javi is no romantic man, he thought about fucking you in every place possible, in the bathroom there, against the nearest wall, but when truly thinking about taking you, it would always be in a bedroom, somewhere you both would be able to take your time.

"Do you fantasize about it?" a step closer "Do you touch yourself thinking about me?" your eyes wouldn't meet his, so he carefully took your chin and angled your head until they did "Where?"

You gulped "Where what?"

"Where did you imagine?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Your desk"

"Fucking dirty woman" he smirked "I'm gonna fuck you on my desk, bebita" he took you by the waist, colliding your body to his "And on my couch" his nose traveled from your cheek to your neck "On the fucking window so eveyone can see how pretty you will look with my cock deep inside of you"

"Shit" your voice broke, breathless.

"Do you want it? Huh? To be full of my cock?" you nodded "I want words"

"Yes" you puffed.

"Yes what?"

You looked at him with a defiant look "Yes, sir"

He had to laugh "You are the worst"

His lips collided with yours with so much fierceness he was surprised they didn't start bleeding. His hands were all over your body, your breasts, your back, your ass. You pulled his hair with both hands and he moaned. Javi wanted you so bad it hurt. He decided to be bold and lifted you skirt to your waist, then placed you sitted on the edge of his desk, each of your legs on each side of his hips, pushing everything that was on your way to the floor, paying no attention to anything that wasn't you.

"I hate how you kiss me" you mumbled frustrated between kisses and he pinched his brows.

"You have a very distinct way to hate things"

"You just do it so well" your hands covered his cheeks "Makes me want to do this everyday"

Javi couldn't help but to smirk "I don't see why we can't"

"Yes, you do"

"All I see is a gorgeous woman with tasteful lips" he reached your covered mound and passed a finger through your folds, making you moan loudly ", wet lips" he smirked "telling me she wants to kiss me foverer"

You snorted "I didn't say that"

"That's what I heard"

"You are so cocky" you rolled your eyes.

"Damn right I am" Javi pressed his erection to your thigh.

"Yeah, I felt it yesterday" your hands went to unbuckle his belt, quickly reaching for his cock through his underwear and pumping him a couple of times "You're big, sir"

Javi moaned and threw his head back, enjoying the feeling, barely believing it was finally happening. You put down every piece of cloth in your way to his thighs, put your own panties to the side and started to guide him to your entrance.

"You think is gonna be that easy?" he murmured in your ear, dodging his dick to press on your clit instead, making you moan at the contact, but also groan out of frustration.

"After all this time, it should be"

"You know what I want to hear, baby" he peppered kisses on your neck while still grinding his dick from your clit to your entrance, you were so wet he knew you would have no difficulty to take him.

"Put this thing inside of me, already" you tried to move your hips to get more friction, frustration consuming you.

Even though Javi had a purpose of you to stop calling him 'sir', he could barely hold himself from sliping inside of you, so that's what he did. Your moan as he slowly made space for him inside of you will forever be in his mind. Javi cursed under his breath as your walls squeezed him and he had to take a moment to absorb the feeling. So warm, so wet, so tight, he was in heaven. But you were impatiant.

"Please, move"

"Say my name and I will"

"Why are you so attached to this?" you pinched your brows.

He did the same "Why are you so against saying it?"

You licked a stripe on his neck "To piss you off"

"That's okay" he smirked "You don't have to say it, I'm gonna make you scream it" he held your legs and roughly pushed inside expecting to hit your special place; by the way you gasped and grabbed him, he got it just right "Found it"

Javi ran his nose through your neck and your skin bristled "You're so sensitive here, aren't you, bebita?"

"I'm starting to think that you make me sensitive everywhere"

He laughed and stopped his movements again "Now that's a confession"

"What can I say?" you huffed "It seems like you make my mind go blank when you have your huge dick inside of me and won't. fucking. move"

He laughed and started to slowly take it out just to push it in again at the same speed.

"You're gonna fucking kill me" you whined "Please, faster"

"Are you needy, baby?" he licked your neck "I can feel you squeeze me. You're desperate for my cock, huh?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what?

"Yes, sir"

He increased the speed and you moaned louder "Unbelievable" his hips were reletless and he felt you getting tighter and tighter "You're almost there, aren't you, baby?" you couldn't speak, mouth half opened and nails digging into the skin of his arm "You like it rough, don't you?"

Then he stopped.

"What the fuck?" your voice is hoarsed.

"I'm fucking you slow, baby, is that a crime?" his smile was smudge

"You're evil" you whined, hips moving to find relief.

"I am evil? Who are you to talk about evil? You're fucking teasing me here, bebita. That's so wrong" he started to move slowly again "Just say my name and I'll let you cum"

You nodded your head no.

"Say it"

"No"

"Fucking say. It." he changed the angle to repeatedly hit that spot inside of you and pulled your hair until your back arched.

"Oh my God, Javi!" you screamed as you came hard on his dick, eyes closed tight, mouth opened and body tremblimg.

His name coming out of your mouth was like music to Javi's ears, and hearing it for the first time fomented something insane inside of him. He licked his thumb and pressed it hard against your clit, your eyes widened in surprise and he got a strangled sound out of your mouth as you came again, your body violently shaking under his hands.

"Oh shit, that's it, baby. You're fucking milking me. Shit, shit, shit."

His name was now floating through your lips like a hymn, and he loved to hear it.

"I'm gonna cum"

His words seemed to wake you from your trance "On my mouth"

"Shit" he steped away and out of you and one second later you were on the floor, knelt before him. You grabbed his dick with one hand, put the tip in your mouth and that's all it took for him to cum the hardest he had in his life. You sucked it, greedy until he had nothing more to give you "Let me see it, baby" he asked with a hoarsed voice, asking you to open your mouth, showing that you had swalloed it all "Fucking dirty woman"

You smirked and rested your forehead on his thigh, exausted.

"Come 'ere" he took your hand on his and got you to your feet, holding you against him by your waist "Can you walk?"

"I think I can learn how to do it again, yeah" he chuckled.

Javi lowered your skirt before sitting you on his desk again "How are you getting home?" he asked quietly as he slowly buttoned up your blouse, trying not to startle you and have you running away again.

"I'm taking a cab" you more gently than not stopped his fingers to continue the work yourself.

"Let me take you home" he fished your panties from the floor and put it in his pocked as he wore his pants again

"You don't have to"

"I know I don't. But I'm kind of worried if you will be capable to support yourself for enough time to call a cab after I fucked you this good"

You released the louder chuckle he had ever heard you give as you stood up "You're the absolute worst, Javier."

He started to get hard to the sound of his name on your lips.

"See? Perfectly stable" one of your eyebrows was raised and all he wanted to do was to kiss your attitude away.

"I guess I'll have to fuck you harder next time, then"

"I guess"

You both went quiet as you made your way out of the building and to his car, you only speaking to give him instructions to get to your place.

"There will be a next time, right?" he spoke as you left the car.

How silly of him to think that fucking you once would be enough, would make all the consuming desire go away, if something, it only made him want you more.

You took your time to look at him, as if staring directly to his soul and gave him a small smile.

"Good night, Javi"

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javi pena #javier pena narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier pena secretary #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #zaddy pedro #pedrohub #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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kairiscorner · 1 year ago

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Helloo, can I request Miguel with an artist reader who draws him a lot? 👉👈 Like the reader has a secret crush on Miguel and he inspires them a lot, without even knowing it. And maybe there's a Gwen-and-Miles-like-situation where Miguel by accident discovers the drawings of him in their sketchbook?

AAAAAAAA ANON THIS IS SO CUTE !! tbh i wanted to finish the miggy fic i had for ate @binibinileonara bc i wanted to connect these two together, BUT I COULDN'T RESIST, I'LL MAKE IT SEPARATE BC WHY NOT !! thank you for the lovely idea btw (i also had an idea like this actually in my notes) THANKS FOR GIVING ME THE OOMPH TO DO IT !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you always had this desire to capture all that interested you in its full beauty, in its unbridled greatness. that was, to you, the essence of all your art pieces; they always reflected how you saw the world, how you saw nature, how you saw people.

you never believed people had one or two faces to them, you believed people were multi-faceted, that every person was a kaleidoscope of beauty, skills, quirks, flaws, fears, hopes, and dreams. you loved capturing every bit of people who intrigued you the best you could, and you hoped that if you stood back and admired the big picture that was them, going over the details and fibers that made each person their own–from the good, bad, pretty and ugly details–you would finally see the whole, uncut image of the person you were illustrating; who you were painting in the colors you saw them in, the colors that stuck with you and filled the empty canvas of your mind with all sorts of shapes and splotches of hues and shades that formed the image of them when their name would come to mind.

and for some reason... that person to you right now was miguel o'hara. you had a lot of things to say about him, even words that many would argue don't exist. you felt a myriad of feelings when you were around miguel, and you knew there was more than just the dictating leader miguel that everyone was familiar with. like all people, miguel, too, was an explosion of different kinds of colors to you–colors that only you could see, because when he was around you... he was more than just the cool, calm, and collected boss everyone saw him as.

he was much more caring, much more funny around you. his smile when you told him a funny story illuminated a bright yellow and a warm orange to you–his eyes would twinkle and you'd see the hazelnut brown in his eyes, and a shade of what appeared to be coffee brown at the bottom of his irises. he exuded a commanding aura, a dark, cool blue–but when paired with you, and only you, he exuded a bright red; a color of fiery passion, intimacy, and most of all... attraction.

he was the subject of your affections, you, the soulful and emotional artist that admired him and all that he was from afar and up close. you admired the way he held your hand when you were scared on a few missions, you admired how gently he held you when you two were caught between a rock and a hard place; and how soft and loving his eyes were when they gazed at you. you knew he might have felt a platonic kind of love for you, what with being so comfortable around you and all, but you felt a different kind of love for him–and you hated denying your creative side the indulgence of capturing him in all his beauty.

hence, you began slowly filling the empty spaces of your sketchbooks and notebooks, or whatever other papers lay around when inspiration struck you, with images of him and only him. you caught his face in moments where he was nonchalant, disappointed, angry, grumpy, and... smiling.

when you witnessed his smile for the first time when you met him, that image was burned into your retinas, into your mind, into your heart. you saw that smile from the minute you went to bed to the minute you woke up, the only thing that saddened you was that you could never hold that man who smiled at you and made your heart beat a little faster–you could only watch him and be with him at a distance. but art was the bridge between you two that'd close that distance you wanted to cover so, so badly.

you did, at times, believe what you were doing was... a little creepy. you refused to let anyone see your sketchbooks even before you drew him, and that was out of embarrassment at your drawings. but now, it was a new kind of embarrassment, a feeling adjacent to guilt and disgust at how nobody but he could fill your mind and have you wanting to keep him in your mind by feeding yourself, indulging yourself in putting him on paper and coloring him in; to be with him at a closer perspective than how you two were in the real world.

you had to admit it–seeing him constantly in your mind, wanting to let thoughts of him out on paper as you wanted to be through with imagining him, but knew you couldn't the more and more you portrayed him–it meant you... wanted him. you really, really loved him.

you knew nobody should know, nobody had to know about this little crush you had on miguel. you'd rather die than have someone peek at your sketchbook that was filled with all kinds of drawings of him. but unfortunately, the man himself bore witness to your caricatures and illustrations of him when you left your sketchbook at his office.

you ran as quickly as you could, praying he hadn't opened it out of curiosity. he was always asking you what you were up to, and you'd immediately shut your sketchbook and laugh awkwardly, claim you were merely doodling. you always left out the part that you were constantly drawing him, and only ever him; and now, he'd find out.

as you entered his office, scouring with your eyes for your sketchbook, a figure emerged from the darkness behind you and gave a slight cough. "this is yours, isn't it?" that low, fluid voice was none other than miguel's. you turned around in fear of what he was going to look like–would any of the faces you drew seeing him as be one of the faces you'd see?

to your surprise... no. he had a different, completely new face that you had never drawn him in; a flustered state. he was blushing, his angled cheeks and high nose bridge were covered in a pink-red hue–and he was grinning. he handed you the sketchbook with a now sheepish smile. "i'm sorry, i wasn't sure if it was yours. i had to... look through for a name. and, um... it was very–" he wanted to continue, but then, he saw you were on the verge of tears.

"i'm... sorry..." you muttered, feeling incredibly ashamed of yours and busted for having indulged in drawing him without him knowing. guilt stirred in your stomach and elicited tears to well up in your eyes. miguel smiled, and as his eyebrows curved upwards together to form a look of reassurance, he placed both hands on your shoulders.

"listen, you have a wonderful talent. i'm sorry if you don't hear that enough, but that changes today. i'm so... wow, i'm so flattered you thought i was good enough to be drawn that way. it feels... amazing, to know an artist sees me fit to be their, what would you call it?" he asked as he wiped a tear rolling down your cheek away from you.

"a... muse." you whispered, wiping the rest of your tears away. miguel chuckled. "right, a muse." he said as he inched closer to you, with the sweetest smile on his face. "i might sound really crazy right now, but... i want to be your muse. i really, really want to be your muse." he said, with emphasis on 'your'.

your face lightened up as the tears that welled up gave your eyes a glassy look, and you saw the blush on his deepen as you became more and more flustered. you smiled and wrapped your arms around his chest, pulling him in for an embrace you needed to release. "and i want to be your artist. only yours." you whispered, to which miguel reciprocated your hug. and it was here that you witnessed him in a new color, a pinkish, reddish hue that made you feel all kinds of happiness and excitement.

a love meant to be captured and painted in with bursts of emotion and care for one another.

a/n: I'M SO SORRY IF IT DIDN'T COME OUT THAT WELL NGL I MADE THIS A LITTLE RUSHED 😭😭😭 BUT I LOVE MIGGY HERE PLSSS AND I HOPE Y'ALL LOVE HIM HERE, TOO <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spidersona

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fizzing-imagines · 1 month ago

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Can I have a fic where reader is pregnant by her ex and Robin is the mother who stepped up?

Teen Pregnancy Series | Robin Buckley x Reader

Notes: Of course! I had so much fun writing this. I don't think the ending is quite what you imagined, but I like happy endings way too much. I hope you enjoy it regardless :)

Warnings: None, I think

Word Count: 3.8k

You really didn't know who else to turn to. Unfortunately, nothing was more important to you than your social status, and if you were to talk about it with any of your friends that would be ruined. It already took a blow after your ex-boyfriend Chance dumped you, but that was bearable. Being pregnant would be your ruin.

"Hey, do you have some time to talk?", you asked Robin who stood behind the counter of the video store she worked at. Robin wasn't particularly a close friend, but you considered her a friend since the band kids and cheer squad were close enough. Plus, you two worked on a good amount of presentations in middle school and high school, and it always went well. Plus, you had a ton of fun together once the work was finished. "Uuuh...sure, yeah. Steve? Steve!" She yelled for her coworker and friend Steve Harrington to take over before taking you to the back.

"What's up?" You were both sitting on a very ragged couch that was for the staff to take their breaks on. "I don't really know how to say it, so I'll just show you." You took three positive pregnancy tests in a ziploc bag out of your pocket and put in on the cushion between you two. "Wow, oh...okay.", Robin stuttered. She was really bad in social situations to begin with, so this was a whole other level. "Does, uh...Chase know?" She then continued to ask. You shook your head no. "He's the last one I wanted to tell. He wasn't exactly kind when he broke up with me, so this will be worse."

"Why'd he break up anyways?", Robin asked, now curious. News spread through the school like a wildfire, but the reason as to why was kept hidden. "Robin, you're going to think I'm an awful person, but I promise I had a good reason." As much as Robin hated to admit it, she loved hearing gossip even if she didn't want to be included in the actual drama going on. "He was kind of...a casualty to get popular.", you admitted. "And he found out I was only with him for popularity, but I promise Robin, that was a lie and I used it to cover a better reason." The confusion was written on her face as she pieced together the information. "Wait...what?", she finally asked. After a deep breath in, swallowing down tears, you started explaining. "I got together with Chase to cover up a secret. But I also kind of did it to gain more popularity, even though that wasn't my ulterior motive. But he thinks I only did it for popularity, which is why he broke up." Her face showed that she had a hard time processing the information you were giving her, but after a while it seemed to make sense in some way. "Sooo...what can I do for you?"

"I...don't really know. Just needed to talk to someone I guess...I couldn't even tell my parents yet..." She thought about her next words for a while. "Maybe I can...come with? If you want?" It was clear that it would he an absolutely awkward moment for her, but she truly wanted to be there for you. And in all reality, she's had a minor crush on you since middle school, so this also seemed like a selfish but working way to get to know you more. "That would actually be nice...although I should probably see a doctor before, because they'll think it's a prank otherwise."

"Then we'll do that. I'll come with."

"Really?", you asked. That was too much to ask for, but Robin seemed determined. "Yeah, I'll come with and we'll look at the..." She did her best to find the right word. "Baby inside you. Whenever your appointments is."

"Thank you, Robin. That's really sweet of you." And that rung in her ears for the rest of the week.

"There's the head...and the feet..." your gynecologist showed you on the ultrasound. "And here's the hands. Very normal for five months." Your eyes went wide in shock. "Five months?!" Robin and you shared a look that read the exact same thought: How the hell could you not have known for four months?

"What, I mean...how? I had my period and everything, and my stomach is still flat as ever." She gave you tissue to clean your stomach from the jelly with while explaining. "There can be many reasons. If you've had irregular periods or take birth controll pills, it can go unnoticed. Especially with your first pregnancy, since you don't know what it feels like to be pregnant. And to not showing, that's not uncommon too and has many reasons." She typed on her computer a bit and you heard a printer going on. "Listen, you're still young. At five months, there's nothing anyone could do to help you out of it. But I can provide you with resources for help." You nodded your head while silently pulling your pants back up. "Thank you.", you said to her before leaving the doctors office with Robin and your sonogram in hand.

"I'm so screwed.", you mumbled after both car doors were closed. "I have four months to prepare for a whole baby. I'm so fucked, Robin." You started chewing your bottom lip, a bad habit you always had when you were anxious. "Stop that.", Robin said with a light tap to your chin. "I'm not the most optimistic person, maybe even very pessimistic sometimes." Robin quickly realized that this wasn't helping. "But it's gonna be fine. I have a feeling. Trust me."

Against all odds, it was fine. While your parents were shocked, they saw your tears, how lost you were, that you had to go this by yourself. All they saw was their little girl who needed her parents.

"Thank you so much, Robin.", you mother told her while pulling her into a very sudden hug. "Truthfully, I'm so glad she has you. You're an angel." You stood by the door, carkeys in hand waiting for your mother to finish. Since Robin didn't have a car or a licence, you told her you'd drop her off at home. "Mom.", you said in an slightly embarrassed tone. Eventually, you did her Robin into your car and started it.

"I'm so sorry about her, she does that sometimes." But your friend just laughed. "It's fine. I'm really happy that they were so nice about it." Her house wasn't far from yours, so the drive only took five minutes. "If you need help with anything else, I'm always here. Like, with the nursery. We can make such a good nursery for whatever your baby will be. I might not look like it, but I'm really, really good with decorations." She went on and on about how she could make the perfect nursery with you, but you felt bad. That secret you've been keeping would be a reason for her to stay away from you, or even gossip about it. But she deserves to know before getting too involved with you and your baby. Meanwhile Robin, she was feeling ecstatic about being so close to you right now. Not just on a physical level, but mentally too. She went to see your baby with you for the first time, told your parents, and now you're making plans about a nursery. Like a real couple would.

"Robin, I have to admit something.", you said as you parked outside her house. Her head turned towards you. "I'm only telling you this because it would be unfair for you to get too involved in all of this without knowing. And since I'll be an outcast anyways, it doesn't really matter if people know anyways." After a deep breath in, you started explaining: "The secret I was trying to cover up with Chase is that...I-I don't actually like guys...you know, that way." It was music to Robins ears. In fact, it was so great that she started grinning.

"We're in the same boat, (Y/N)."

"No Steve, you don't understand.", Robin went on. "She's involving me like a stepmom. We talked about baby names and that she wants me there when she finds out the gender." She hasn't stopped talking about you to Steve ever since you told her you like girls. He kept telling her to just ask you out, but she insisted that it might ruin the friendship if you didn't like her back. Robin was so deep in her vent that she didn't realise that you walked through the door.

"She took you shopping for maternity clothes and had you in the changing room with her. In which universe is that not a clear sign?", Steve said to her in a slightly aggravated tone. "If I tell her I like her, I might ruin everything. And she needs someone to help her with the baby!", Robin argued back. By now, you were standing behind the counter with Robins back turned to you. "A girlfriend would be even better for the baby.", you said shamelessly. Robin turned around and looked at you in horror. "Where did you come from?" was the only thing she could get out. You laughed a bit. "I would love to go out with you. If you're fine with a baby being part of the deal."

Robin ran around the counter and pulled you into a hug. You did have a slight bump at this point, but not big enough to be too much apart from you.

"Yes, absolutely! There's nothing I would love more than that!

"You just...tell him.", Robin suggested while brainstorming ideas on how to finally tell Chase. "Helpfull.", you commented while resting the back of your head against your carseat. "Well, what do you want me to say? Because realistically, there isn't really another way to do it. He's not happy with you right now, and I doubt he ever will be. Plus, you said you have nothing to loose anymore, so you might as well take the blow now." You knew Robin was right. "Alright, let's go."

She stayed with you when you walked up to Chase. For once, he was alone by his locker. But he quickly closed it and tried to walk off once he saw you. "Chase, please, just a minute.", you pleaded as you caught up to him and held him by the arm. "What?", he asked in an aggravated tone. "I don't expect anything from you, but I'm pregnant.", you blurted out. He remained quiet and starred at you for a good minute before speaking again.

"How far?"

"6 months."

"You kept that from me for 6 months?", he asked in disbelief. "No, Chase, I didn't find out until a month ago.", you defended yourself. He scoffed a bit. "I can't even believe you that it's mine.", he said before walking off.

"Well, that was something.", Robin said. You nodded your head. Although this went better than expected; you were sure he was gonna yell at you. "Come on, let's go.", you said before walking to class with Robin.

"Hold still.", you said to her as you smeared a face mask on her face. Robin kept making faces at the unknown feeling of the white paste on her face. "Why is it so cold?", she asked, getting some paste on her lips on the process. "Robin.", you said while swiping your thumb across her lower lip to clean it. Your baby bump came fast, and it was big at this point. Bending over to apply the mask was hard enough, having to fix it was even harder. "Sorry.", she whispered once you were finished. "For someone who uses chapstick once every 3 months, you have really soft lips.", you said while leaning back to give your hips and back a break. Truthfully, it was just an absentminded comment, but it made Robin impulsive. She leaned forward and put her lips on yours. A bold move on her end, but you two have not spend a day apart since you said you want to take her out. Kissing you was ought to happen. And you thought the same, so you happily kissed her back.

Once you two parted lips, Robin and you both started laughing; she did because her face mask was all over your nose, chin and side of your lips, and you because those parts came off of her mask and made her look funny. Robin used a wet whipe to carefully fix your face. The whipe landed in the small trashcan next to your bed and since Robin was already leaning foward, she took the chance to take your hands.

"Sooo, are we like...uh...you know..."

"Girlfriends? If you want to." You smiled at her and let your thumbs run across the back of her hands. "I absolutely want to. I've actually had this massive crush on you in middle school, but then it kinda got less but it really came back lately, and there's really nothing more I want than being your girlfriend." She always talked so much once she started, and you loved it. "I'd kiss you again, but you've got something on your face.", you giggled.

"Whipe it off then."

You couldn't tell anyone that both of you were together. Not your parents, not your friends, nobody. Only Steve was made aware, and he was ecstatic for the both of you. Everyone else was told that you two were just best friends who'll be raising the baby together. And for safety reasons, you liked it that way. Besides, nobody needed to know what went on behind closed doors.

"Would you like to find out the gender?", your OBGYN asked you. "Yes, please.", you said with a smile. The initial fear was gone, the nervousness because now it was all replaced with excitement. Robin was gonna be the child's mother with you. "Alright, so you see here." She pointed at the screen. "There's a penis, so it's going to be a boy." Robin and you grinned at each other. "We're having a boy!", Robin squeaked with excitement, which earned a weird look from your doctor. You hastily said your excuse. "She's my best friend, and helping me raise him since the father isn't in the picture." Her face went from confused to smiling. "That's very nice of you.", she said to Robin.

Once in the car, Robin looked a bit concerned. "What's wrong, honey?", you asked her. "Can he still call me mom if everyone thinks we're just best friends?" You haven't thought that far, but there really only was one simple reply. "He'll call me mom and you mama. Sounds good?" Her face turned into a wide grin.

"Yeah, that's good."

"Winnie Pooh wouldn't have been my first choice, but you really made it work.", you told Robin as both of you looked at the finished nursery. Your girlfriend moved in with you at your parents house, under the disguise of her wanting to help, and your fathers office was turned into a nursery. He happily gave it up for his grandson. Plus, Robin was allowed to move into your bedroom with you. Your mother didn't even catch suspicions at you two being okay with sharing a bed, since best friends did that all the time anyways.

"I loved that weird little nudist bear as a child. I think he'll love it, too.", she said with a smile. Robin put her hands on your bump and felt small kicks. "See? He likes it." Both of you laughed and, since the door was closed, shared a quick kiss. "I'm really tired now, though." Both of you walked into your bedroom and laid down on the bed for a nap. Even though Robin didn't fall asleep, she kept you company until you woke up again.

"Okay, Steve, listen.", you said to him while he was sorting movies. "(Y/N), I have to work.", he told you. "It's your least bussiest day, get a grip.", you replied. Ever since you and Robin graduated, you had all the time in the world. "Okay, so, Matthew."

"No."

"Vincent."

"We're in the 80s, not the 1800's."

"Ocean."

"What?", he gave you a confused look that made you laugh. "That was on there to see your face, Dingus.", Robin said with a small laugh. "Rowan?", you asked Steve. He didn't seem to be hating that one. "We're mostly between Rowan and Nicolas.", your girlfriend explained. "Rowan? Is he, what, a wizard?", Steve joked. "Nicolas sounds good." He turned to Robin. "Finally a good decision." She rolled her eyes at him.

"(Y/N) was a good decision."

"Alright, yeah, I'll take that."

You laughed at their antics until there was a sharp pain in your abdomen. "Fuck...", you groaned. Both turned their head to you as you leaned against the counter. "Hey, what's wrong?", Robin asked in a panicked tone. You took a deep breath in and out before being able to reply. "I think he really likes his name and doesn't want to wait." Robin did freak out as much as you'd imagine she would.

"Steve, you need to drive us!", she yelled at her best friend. He hastily got his keys and rushed both of you out of the store. "Come on, let's go!", he said while unlocking the car. Robin got in the backseat with you while Steve started the car. She barely closed the doors when he started rushing to the hospital.

"He's so tiny. Why is he so tiny?", Robin asked with some tears in her eyes as she held your son Nicolas. He's two days old already, but she couldn't help but tear uo every time he was in her arms. "All babies are tiny.", you said with a small laugh. Admittedly, Robin never held a baby before. She was an only child, and her family lived too far away to visit when her cousins were still babies. "But he's extra tiny.", she cooed.

"18 inches is typical, honey."

Robin never looked this happy. The love in her eyes was unmatched. She cherished him as he snored in her arms. The moment was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Steve walking in. "Hey.", he greeted with a smile on his face. One of his hands held flowers while the other held a small box. "Hey Steve.", you said quietly, smiling as well. He walked over to your bed and put the flowers in a vase. "I got these for you, but I didn't know which ones you liked most." You were still smiling. "Thank you, Steve. They're beautiful."

"And I got this for Nicolas. Again, I didn't know what he'd like.", he joked. It made you and your girlfriend laugh a bit. "Maybe you wanna hold him while Robin opens it?", you asked him. Steve loves babies, you knew that, and you knew that he wants six of them. "I'd love to.", he replied. Robin made him sit down and showed him how to properly hold Nicolas. "He's tiny.", Steve commented.

"That's what I said.", Robin agreed with a small laugh. She took the small box from your nightstand and opened it. "It's adorable.", she said with a grin before taking it out of the box. It was a Winnie Pooh rattle. "That's so thoughtful, Steve.", you said with a grin. Meanwhile, Nicolas was waking up in Steve's arms. He had beautiful, big dark brown eyes that looked up at Steve. Something inside him made him very emotional.

"It's unfortunate I can't ask my girlfriend for a baby yet.", he commented. Robin and you shared a look.

"Girlfriend?"

Nicolas was fast asleep on top of Robin from swimming all day. Your four-year old was so hyped for the trip to the Hawkins swimming pool and even packed his bag by himself. After hours of action, he asked his mama for a cuddle just to fall asleep on top of her. And Robin being herself was now sleeping as well. You were packing up towels and toys when you noticed someone approaching.

"(Y/N)?", Chance said.

You looked up at your ex-boyfriend through your sunglasses. "Hey.", you said. His eyes wandered over to your girlfriend and son, especially your son. "He looks like me."

"I know.", you said. "I didn't lie." Chance looked back at you with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I should've been there." You made space for him next to you. "Come on. They sleep for forever, we can talk." You could see it in his eyes, he really needed this. There was just...something. Something he needed to tell you.

"I know why you did it.", he said. "It's clear to me now." You felt panic raise inside you. Robin and you did such a good job at convincing everyone that you two were just best friends raising a child. You barely even kissed in front of Nicolas so he couldn't tell his classmates. And now your ex figured it all out?

"(Y/N), I figured it out because I'm like you." Your eyes went wide in surprise. "But with boys.", you whispered. He nodded his head. "Me and Andy. You remember Andy?" How could you not? He was a dick

"We're moving in together next month. It's better there for us." You smiled at him, happy that he was so open and honest. But it still raised a question. "You never loved me?"

"I thought I did. But I realised I just really liked hanging out with you, more than anyone else." That made you happy, even though you still felt bad for using him. Even though he understood, it wasn't right. "I don't expect anything from you.", Chase said, unintentionally quoting you from five years ago. "But I'd like to be in your life again. And..."

"Nicolas."

"And Nicolas life."

You looked over at your sleeping girlfriend and son. The three of you, despite the challenges, had a peaceful life. Would suddenly involving Nico's bio dad ruin it for him? "I'll talk about it with Robin. But the two of us can always hang out." You looked through your bag for a notebook, where you messily wrote down your landline number. "Here. Call me tomorrow and I'll have an answer for you." He happily took the piece of paper from you. "Thank you.", he said with a smile.

"Come on, Nico!", you yelled from the bleachers as your son took the final shot to bring Hawkins to victory. His team made it to the finals, and if they won today they'll win the championship. He took the shot, landed and the entire gymnasium erupted into cheers. The first thing Nicolas did is run up to you, Robin and Chase for a group hug. "I'm so proud of you!", Chase said to his son. He was soon pulled away by his teammates to celebrate their victory.

"He's amazing.", Robin said before pulling you into a kiss. "Our son is amazing!"

She also hugged Chase. They became good friends over the past years, especially after she saw that Chase was doing an amazing job as being a father to Nico. Your son didn't start calling him dad, but he does say he's 'His Chase', and that's good enough for him. But most importantly: Nico has a good life.

And so did Robin.

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley

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mytearsbuckochet · 13 days ago

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What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.

Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??

In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.

Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.

#buddie #anti tommy kinard #anti bucktommy #911 #911 spoilers #eddie diaz #evan buckley

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tmwcs · 1 year ago

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hiiiiii reinna i love ur work it makes my day everytime i read it lmaooo <333

i was wondering if u could make a fic abt sunoo like youre the 8th member of enhypen and since youre not that girly or act cute like the other female idols instead kinda tomboy and baddie sunoo finds you annoying cos hes not used to it but the other members r fine. one day after dance practice (y/n and jungwon r roomates) saurrr jungwon told yn the tea abt sunoo hating her but yn secretly likes sunoo. So after jungwon left to go somehwere idk shopping?? Yn cried n cried n cried and u can basically use ur creative imagination for the rest 👻👻 pls make it smut at the end tho i love it 👻👻👻

Thanksssssss miss bestest ever writter everrrr!! 1!111!1 ❤️❤️❤️

"Ddeonu....."

@reyna-ohno - I hope i did you justice ;)

Warnings: unprotected smut, fingering, gossiping, enemies to lovers trope, some minor angst, cursing's, a little bit of hate sex....and i think that's it. to make it more believable, Y/n has her own room but is close with the members and allows them to come hang out. I wrote majority of this while i was on bedrest recovering, so i apologize this is not proofread.

"She's really not at all like the others..." Jake remarks as he sits next to Heeseung, noting that your behavior on camera, was very much genuine as you were no different than how you were off camera.

"Yeah she doesnt seem to be into that whole cutsie thing. Kind of refreshing actually."

"Yeah man, i think so too."

Everyone could relatively agree, to see you be yourself, it was new and fresh, and a delight to see. For Sunoo, it was an abomination.

While you were filming alongside Jungwon, while you were chic and stylish in your own manner, you opted for casual and simple flares of fashion rather than the traditional girly and fancy type. With a loose pair of jeans on, a fitted tee shirt with a matching baseball cap, you displayed your smile and laughter by having a good time being the only girl member in the band.

Watching from aside, Sunoo glares and rolls his eyes. Next to him, Sunghoon pops over and gives him a slight side bump to break the silence after noting the look of irritation on his face. "Whats got you all worked up?"

"Why can't she just be like the rest of the girls in the industry? She's not at all doing well on these weverse lives, people want to see cute girls being....cute...not relaxed and chilled."

"give her a break, she's just being herself man. Can't be mad at that."

"I'm not mad i just.....i just dont get it." Sunoo shakes his head as he turns and walks away with his arms crossed, obviously irritated by your lack of enthusiasm when it came to attempting to be adorable, much like your counterpart, Jungwon. For a young man to be far more agile in being cute in his mannerisms, more than you, that usually was an indicator that you were someone who was far too much of a hopeless cause. Truth of the matter, Sunoo knew what the public liked, he knew that fans liked it when idols did silly and cute things like finger hearts, squinting eyes while displaying a cat like smile, or making high pitched sounds. You didn't do any of that, nor did you attempt it, which caused him to wonder if you were going to be the downfall of Enhypen.

Finishing the live stream, you and the boys all made your way back home to the dorm where you nestled yourself in you room, conveniently next to Jungwon's, who had developed a close bond with, much like a sibling. Since receiving your room assignments, being the only girl, you got your own room, yet it was nice to have Jungwon right next to you, since it was easy for him to come in and out to visit all throughout the night to hang out or watch tv together. Tonight was no different, especially with the new episodes of your guys favorite tv show coming out.

*Knock knock*

"come in." you softly call out, and as expected, you watched as Jungwon brings in a plate of fresh hot hotteok, and tea.

"did you start it?"

"no not yet, was waiting for you."

"Ah."

settling in as he places the plate and two cups on the table, you both prepared to watch the latest episode. As the opening credits rolled, Jungwon took the opportunity to talk about the vlive from earlier.

"Hey so......only because i'm the leader.......but......does it bother you that Sunoo.....well....you know...."

Raising your eyebrows in confusion as you munched on the honey filled treat, you looked up and shrugged your shoulders slightly. "What do you mean?"

"You dont know?"

"Know what?"

Jungwon sighs as he curses himself for opening a door that he wish he hadn't. "nevermind."

"Nooooo...dont be like that....tell me."

"its just....well....he really doesnt like you......and he makes it obvious."

Stunned, your eyes grew wide as you felt your heart drop. "Oh....he does?"

"yeah......do you want me to talk to him about it?"

Shaking your head, you kept your composure as best as you could. "No...its fine.....i'm sure he'll get over it."

Jungwon smiles in return. "yeah, i'm glad you're not too upset about it."

But the fact of the matter was, you were upset....deeply. No one would know of it, since you were very much strategic in keeping it hidden, but you were quite fond of Sunoo....you actually liked him even....so much, that you caught yourself dreaming of him, fantasizing on what it would be like to snuggle up with him, going on dates, or just being in his embrace and smelling his cologne.

You held it all in and the entire night, one episode after another, you felt as if your heart was punching your chest outward.

...........

"Well, i'm gonna go to bed. we got an early morning tomorrow, so dont stay up too late."

"Okay." you feigned a smile as you watched him walk out. The moment you left the room, you hid yourself into the dimmed lighting in your room and began crying. You felt hurt. Did Sunoo really not like you? Why? You both hardly shared any words to one another. Yet it all started to make sense, for all the times you though back when you tried to make conversation, only to watch him side eye you as he would get up and leave the room. There were other moments too, such as whenever you would sit right next to him, and he'd let out an exhausting sigh, and get up to walk across the other side of the room to sit in a different seat. Initially, you didn't think much of it, you had thought he merely was just shy or just was not used to being around female idols. But now......it all makes senses. The man who you really wanted to be with....the one you admired from afar, day dreamed...the one you would do anything for, actually disliked you.....hated you......

Sobbing away into your kneecaps as you held your legs to your chest, you failed to notice that Jungwon had mistakenly left your door cracked open, not shutting it all the way through. With the bit of the dimmed lighting peeking out from the crack, the hallway remained pitch black with just a strip of the orange and yellow hue coming from your room.

Walking up after grabbing a bottle water from the kitchen, Sunoo strolls through the same hallway, all to reach his room at the end of the corridor.

hearing the faint sounds of your sobs, he takes a swig of his water and gulps it down as he sides eye the slivers crack in the door.

“is she….crying? What is her deal?”

sighing out in frustration, he took the chance to enter and see if he could get you to stop, considering your room was across from his. With all that sniffling and whimpering, it would be hard for him to get some sleep with your cries echoing in the hall. Walking into the dimmed room, he gently shuts the door behind him and walks further in. Breaching the opening of your room, he stands straight and leans against the wall while watching your pitiful state. Taking another gulp of water down, he rolls his eyes as he breaks the silence.

“you know if you’re going to cry, you can at least have your door shut all the way through so you don’t wake anyone.”

jolting out of your fetal position, you look up him with your tear stained face. Shocked, your eyes were wide and glossy, pieces of your hair remained plastered on your face and you softly whimpered out a few sniffles before stuttering out an “s-sorry….”

eyeing you down, he takes yet, another gulp from his bottle. Switching his gaze to the floor as he screws the cap back on, he crosses his arms before asking you the big question, merely because he grew curious after seeing your face.

“so…..”

confused, you sat there in silence and looked off to the side before turning back to him. “……um….s..sorry?”

sighing out as he rubbed his temple, he finally speaks out. It was soft yet firm, with a low tone….much lower than what he normally dispelled.

“bitch why are you crying?”

taken aback, your eyes became overflowing with the stinging of tears once more when you heard his harsh tone. Whimpering into your kneecaps again, he rolled his eyes in defeat as he regains composure and attempts this once more.

“okay okay look….just tell me why you’re crying. Can you do that? Hmm? Can you just stop and talk for a second? I’d like to eventually get some beauty rest.”

you shifted over and turned your back towards him.

“just go sunoo…….you’re not going to be the solution to any of my problems right now.”

“Huh…..”

gaining width in his widened glare, you heard his foot steps and thought he was walking in the opposite direction to exit the room. It wasn’t until you felt his weight plopping beside you that you realized he was sitting right next to you. Not only that, but the moment you heard his careless whisper, how his hot breath touched your ear, you knew he was far closer than he had ever been with you.

“Why is that?” He whispered into your ear. you shuttered as you felt an electric shock travel up and down your spine.

“stop! Why are you here? Why do you even care or try? I know you hate me…..just….leave me alone.” You broke down and began to sob as you lashed out the truth.

he didn’t deny it, nor did he try to argue with you on your statement, he did in fact, borderline hated you. Though hearing you say it aloud made him feel a certain type of way about it.

“you’re right….I do hate you.”

“could you please just go……..I….I don’t understand…I’ve never done anything to you….I’ve tried to be nice and I’ve always been helpful…..I’ve……I’ve don’t everything I could to make you see how much I care…” breaking down, you sobbed as you curled your body in.

“I know.” He admitted, nonchalantly at that, as if he knew all this time yet still found it suitable to hate you. But that’s as all about to change….

feeling his hand grasp your shoulder and turning you over, in a rather forceful nature, you gasped out in shock as you witness his frame hovering over you. His feline eyes staring right into your iris and a soft, very faint smile appeared on his pouty lips.

his pupils shift in random direction as he takes in y the sight of your face. Releasing a soft chuckle, he calmly speaks out.

“cute.”

caught off guard, he blinked in shock before uttering an “excuse me?” Bidding him to clarify.

“I said, ‘cute’. Does crying make you deaf too?”

“why are you being this way? I don’t get it…..”

“welcome to my world."

"What is your problem!?" you snapped. you've about had it with his cocky attitude and the lack of sincerity in his tone. Yet the moment he pinned you down as he leaned further in, with his nose pressed against your cheek and his hot breath grazing against your lips, you were shocked still.

"you know, you put on that act to behave like one of the guys. you act cool and casual, and you treat all aspects of being a girl as something that is beneath you. yet look at you now.....crying and looking so adorable......so soft....all your feminine features coming out with each tear drop you cry out."

"ar.....are you toying with me?"

"Maybe.......is that bad?.....is that something that bothers you?"

Shrugging from left to right, you try to break free from his grasp as he began to hold on to your wrists. "huh....you're even cuter when you struggle."

"stop it! get off of me!"

"I will.....if you can get me off." he smirks with that sly smile that he was known for. You gave in as you break down from feeling the immense different in strength. Despite being the carefree and adored idol he was, Sunoo was indeed still, a man.

"Why .....just why....?"

Smirking once more, he leans further in and pauses just before his lips are met with yours. "ddeonu" he whispers.

You raised a brow in annoyance as you whispered back. "is that supposed to be funny? like a joke?"

Once more, he whispers back "ddeonu....you tell me...." smiling and smirking against your lips, you faintly smile back as you feel his grasp loosen and soften up, with his finger tips stroking your skin.

"do. you really hate me?" you asked.

Before he could answer, you softy whispered and cut him off. "let me guess.....ddeonu?"

His eyes widening for a moment, he whispers firmly and tells you, "say it again."

Leaning slightly upward, you softly tell him......"ddeonu....."

His lips lock yours in. His hands eagerly roam up and down your body. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders as you feel his grope slightly shift your body upward from the overwhelming sensation of his soft skin traveling all over your stomach, your breasts, and your ribcage. breaking the kiss to catch his breath, ultimately allowing for you to do the same, he breathes out his gasping words as he rips your buttons apart.

"Whine for me....little girl."

"No Sunoo...."

"Do it."

Kissing you, he shoves his hand down your shorts and flickers his two fingers against your clit. Just as he wanted, you whimper into his mouth as he holds your wrists down with one hand. "Whine some more." he breathes out.

Meshing his lips with yours, he rubs your slit up and down and presses his palm on it as he clams a grip and shoves his tongue deeper into your mouth.

Breaking free for a moment, you turn your head and gasp out. "God!.....I hate you i swear."

"Do you now? Tell me how much you hate the fox." he mumbles against your lips, as. he pulls down your shorts and panties, rolling them down past your kneecaps.

"Sunoo....." you whispered out.

Hovering over, he props his frame on his knees and pulls his shirt off, loosening his sweatpants, he leans back in and props his chest to remain heightened just above your exposed breasts as he uses his arm to stilt himself up. His hair loosely draping down as he eyes you with an intrigued glare.

"you look so cute when you cry...."

"........you're crazy."

"every sly fox is." he smirks as he kisses you once more, this time it was tender, and more gentle. Leaning all the way down, you relished as his body melts into yours, your arms wrap around his neck as you feel him probe your entrance. Gasping for air, you grip on to his shoulders and dig your fingers in as you feel him slide the remaining length inside you.

"Y-you...you're not wearing a condom." you breathed out, wincing your eyes shut as you felt the sting of him inserting all the way through.

"Don't worry.....i know you're a good girl....and you know i'm clean.....considering we're with each other all the time." he heavily breaths out upon feeling the pressure of your entry squeezing him as he bottoms out inside.

It was true, since you always had feelings for the man to your right, you never once paid any mind to all of your fans, the other idols, or staff that showed interest. You remained faithful to a dream that you never thought would have come, yet you stayed hopeful. The dreams alone, were enough to get you by, now that you were in this moment, it all felt surreal.

"Ah! You...you're too big!"

Kissing you tenderly, he begins to thrust slowly and deeply. "Yeah?....It might be because you're super tight." wincing at the last part, he grits his teeth slightly as he pulls out yet kept the tip nestled in before shoving himself all the way back in through.

"Fuck.....you're really tight......" breathing in deeply into your ear, he caresses both sides of your head and twirls his fingers with your hair as he softly kisses your helix, nibbles on your lobe and licks the inside of your ear canal.

"Ugh! ugh! Sunoo!" you gasp out as you release each pleasurably moan and bite your lip. Remaining in the missionary position, Sunoo props himself up as he lifts both your legs and rests them over his shoulders. "S...sstop." you shyly utter out as he positions you to be fully exposed and in his view. "Shhhh......be a good girl." breathes out as he reaches around one of your thighs and circles the pad of his thumb on your clit. With your hips dipping high and low with each thrust, he picks up the pace upon seeing how delectable your breasts looked as they jiggle up and down from his momentum.

"Oh.....shit....move like that some more baby girl...." he gasps as the sweat beads drip down and his hair glistens and becomes slick wet. "Move...baby....move some more...." thrusting in faster and faster, you lose breath as his bumping thrust instilled a raging sense of pelting pleasure that penetrates deep into your chest.

"Oh.......oh my god...fuck.......what.....what are you doing??...." you gasp out as you bite on to your finger as you shift your face off to the side, your body drenched with sweat as you take in thrust after thrust. Feeling him easily sliding in, you felt your body leaking the bit of moisture onto his lengthy shaft as his thrusts and friction caused it to thicken and cream up on the base of your opening, with a reside ringing around his length.

"Shhhh......take it cutie....fuck.......take it all." he gasps out as he thrusts in deeper, leaning back in as his chest rests atop your breasts, locking your lips in once more. Your moans started to pick up volume, so he swoops a hand and gently covers your mouth while planting his lips on your forehead, taking in the feeling of your face jolting up and down as he pelts you with his hip thrusts. "Oh you're so fucking good.....you know that?" he whispers as he kisses your sweaty brow line as you moan out your muffled answer into his palm. "keep taking it.....just......shit....little more......r-...right there...." gasping out a deep breath, he pulls out his shaft and watches as the slime of your body's lubricant and his pre-cum lines a bridge between your entry and his tip. Aiming for your breasts, he holds his shaft steadily in his palm as he releases and paints your chest with his seed. Chuckling as he catches his breath, he kisses your face tenderly as you whimper out, trying your best to calm your heartbeat.

"Can't get you pregnant....not yet.....staff and company wouldn't like that....." with a tender kiss, he softly rolls his tongue around, massaging the inside of your cheeks as he continues.

"but maybe.....a little later......maybe we'll make something as cute as you.....hmm?"

Tired, breathless, weakened and limp, you whispered out "ddeonu...." to which he laughs as he keeps his lips planted on your cheek.

"I do...."

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