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the price to pay when you’re a passenger princess.
You knew that there had to be a catch when Bakugou said he’d pick you up after your 12-hour shift at the hospital. But the thing was, you were too exhausted to dwell on the thought.
Or so you thought.
“You look dead on your feet,” he commented as he opened the door for you.
“Thanks for the compliment,” you replied dryly, tossing your bag into the backseat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
The sleek, jet-black Porsche 911 Turbo S roared through the empty streets like a predator on the hunt, the low rumble of the engine vibrating through your very soul. Bakugou, of course, looked completely at ease, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift, a calm expression seen on his face.
You’ve come to understand that your husband was relatively calm when not provoked.
“Katsuki,” you started as the car picked up speed, “you do realize this is still a hospital zone, right? Maybe don’t speed like you’re in a Fast and Furious movie.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You literally just did.”
“Relax,” he drawled, shifting gears with precision. “You know I’ve got this.”
You, on the other hand, were internally reciting every safety procedure you could think of in case of an unfortunate circumstance to come.
“Should I call my assistant to make an appointment in advance?”
Bakugou snorts. “What? Don’t trust me?”
“Oh, I trust you. It’s the laws of physics I don’t trust,” you muttered under your breath, earning a low chuckle from him.
The worst part? There was barely any traffic this late at night, which only encouraged Bakugou to push the limits of what his new Porsche could do. You glanced at the speedometer and instantly regretted it.
“Katsuki, I swear to God—”
“What? It’s not like I’m breaking the speed limit,” he said with mock innocence, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he knew exactly what he was doing.
The Prefectural Government’s Public Safety Commissions should really revoke his license one of these days. Or you might not live to see the next one.
“By less than two!”
You leaned your head back against the seat, staring at the darkened city skyline as it blurred past you. You were exhausted from your shift, your feet aching, bone tired, but all of that was being drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of your life flashing before your very eyes.
You double-checked your seatbelt again. It’s never too late to actually be safe.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said without taking his eyes off the road.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to yell at me for being too hot and good at everything.”
“Wow? The audacity of my husband making such a bold claim,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. “Have I fed your ego too much that you’re about to float away like a hot-air balloon?”
“Didn’t deny my claim.” He got you there.
You couldn’t argue with that.
“Just so you know,” you muttered, clutching the grab handle even tighter as he effortlessly weaved between two cars, “if I die tonight, I’m haunting you. And I’ll make sure to mess with you when you’re trying to sleep.”
“Good,” he said with a grin, finally glancing your way. “At least then you’d be with me all the time, huh?”
You stared at him, momentarily speechless. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now? While you’re driving like a maniac?”
“Who says I can’t multitask?”
Before you could fire back with another retort, the car slowed as you neared your apartment complex. Your death grip on the handle loosened ever so slightly, though your heart was still racing.
When Bakugou finally parked, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You unbuckled your seatbelt, your hands still trembling a little.
“I hate you.”
“Love you too or whatever.”
“I—wait, you actually said it.”
“What? Can’t a man just say he loves his wife?”
“Good point, but you rarely say it!”
“I pick you up after your every shift and make sure you don’t die of starvation or poor health. That’s enough than saying it, no?”
“But you said it! So it’s different.”
“Not.”
“It is!”
“Not.”
“Is!”
Terrifying car rides aside, there was no one else you’d rather be stuck with. Even if your husband drove you absolutely crazy—both on and off the road. This must be the price of being Bakugou Katsuki’s passenger princess.
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#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou drabble#bakugou fluff#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugou katsuki#mha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugou katsuki
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RAFE CAMERON ⟢ noodle loving girl
x !FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: three times you sneak away to eat noodles, one time he does the same + bonus
WORD COUNT: +7.6k
GENRE: fluff
CONTENT WARNING: nothing
the first time
tannyhill was eerily quiet, bathed in faint moonlight filtering through the windows. you stirred in rafe’s bed, his arm thrown over your waist like a weighted blanket, his slow breaths warm against your shoulder. for a moment, you lay there, staring at the ceiling, willing yourself to fall back asleep.
but then your stomach growled. loudly.
you winced, glancing over your shoulder to make sure rafe was still asleep. he was, his face half-buried in his pillow, completely oblivious to your plight.
biting your lip, you slowly shifted out from under his arm, careful not to disturb him. he groaned faintly in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, but didn’t wake up. you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and slipped out of the room, making your way downstairs.
the house was dark, and as you padded down the hallway, a strange sound made you freeze.
whispers.
you tilted your head, straining to hear. the voices were muffled, coming from the direction of the kitchen. for a split second, your brain went straight to the worst-case scenario: intruders.
grabbing the nearest ‘weapon’ (a decorative vase from a side table), you crept toward the kitchen, heart pounding. the whispers grew louder, accompanied by the distinct sound of rustling bags.
you tightened your grip on the vase, poking your head around the corner—and stopped dead in your tracks.
there, in the glow of the open pantry, stood sarah and wheezie, bickering in hushed tones as they dug through the shelves.
“what do you mean we don’t have oreos? you said there were oreos,” sarah was whispering, pulling out random boxes and shaking them.
“they were here yesterday!” wheezie replied, holding up a bag of chips. “just eat these.”
“no way. i don’t want something salty.”
still clutching the vase, you exhaled loudly, causing both of them to whip around, startled.
“uh… hi?” you said, setting the vase down and trying to calm your racing heart.
“hi?” sarah echoed, her hand frozen mid-reach into the pantry.
wheezie just blinked at you, her cheeks stuffed with chips like a squirrel caught hoarding food.
you looked between the two of them, raising an eyebrow. “so… we’re all just hungry?”
sarah raxed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “apparently.”
wheezie nodded, swallowing her mouthful of chips. “what are you doing down here? shouldn’t you be upstairs… with rafe?”
you shrugged, holding up the pack of buldak carbonara noodles you’d grabbed from the counter. “i got hungry. and, well, noodles.”
sarah squinted at the packaging. “wait, isn’t that the crazy spicy stuff?”
“it’s not crazy spicy—it’s creamy and amazing. big difference,” you corrected, already moving toward the kettle to start boiling water.
wheezie craned her neck to get a better look. “is it actually good? i always thought those things were just for people trying to punish themselves.”
“it’s the best late-night snack ever,” you said, putting a pot on the stove. “want to try some?”
wheezie’s eyes lit up. “yes. chips are boring.”
sarah made a face but eventually sighed. “fine. i’ll try a bite. but only because i want to understand the hype.”
as the water began to boil, you leaned against the counter, glancing between the two of them. “what are you guys even doing up? i thought i was the only weirdo sneaking around for snacks at midnight.”
“wheezie woke me up,” sarah said flatly, glaring at her sister.
“i was starving!” wheezie protested, clutching her chips defensively.
“you were also banging cabinet doors like a maniac,” sarah shot back. “it’s a miracle you didn’t wake the entire house.”
“fair,” wheezie admitted, taking another handful of chips.
you laughed, shaking your head as you poured the boiled water in the pan and put the noodles in as well. “honestly, i thought you were burglars or something.”
sarah smirked. “that would’ve been entertaining.”
“not for me!” wheezie exclaimed.
the three of you dissolved into quiet laughter, the tension of the moment melting away. when you poured some water away and added the cream, cheese and spices a rich and spicy aroma began to fill the air.
sarah tilted her head, smirking at you.
“you know rafe’s gonna freak when he wakes up and he can’t find you?”
“probably,” you said with a grin. “but he can survive for five minutes without me.”
“bold of you to assume,” sarah teased.
you set three bowls on the counter, handing one to each of them. wheezie immediately dug in, her eyes widening as she took her first bite.
“okay, wow, this is amazing,” she mumbled through a mouthful of noodles.
“told you,” you said smugly, taking a bite from your own bowl.
sarah hesitated but eventually took a small bite. her eyes widened slightly, and she cleared her throat, trying to play it cool. “it’s… decent.”
“decent?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow with a smile.
“fine. it’s amazing,” she admitted begrudgingly.
as you were sitting around the island, slurping noodles and swapping stories under the dim glow of the overhead light. sarah was making fun of wheezie for the way she held her chopsticks, while wheezie defended herself with half-coherent arguments between bites.
you were laughing so hard you nearly dropped your bowl when you heard the telltale sound of heavy, uncoordinated footsteps padding down the stairs.
all three of you froze, turning toward the doorway just as rafe stumbled in, his hair sticking out in every direction, his hoodie slightly askew. his half-lidded, sleepy eyes scanned the scene, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of what he was looking at.
“what the hell is going on?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
“hi, baby,” you said, trying to stifle a laugh at how utterly confused he looked.
rafe blinked at you, his gaze shifting to sarah and wheezie, then to the bowls of noodles on the counter. “is this… a dream? am i—what?”
“nope, very real,” sarah quipped, taking another bite of her noodles. “welcome to the midnight noodle club.”
rafe rubbed a hand over his face, clearly trying to wake himself up. “i thought you were in bed,” he said, looking at you accusingly.
“i was,” you admitted, giving him an innocent smile. “but i got hungry. and, well, sarah and wheezie were already raiding the pantry, so…” you gestured at the spread of noodles like it explained everything.
rafe stared at the scene for a long moment, then pointed at the bowls. “are those the spicy noodles?”
“yes,” you said proudly.
he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “of course they are. why am i not surprised?”
“you want some?” you asked, holding up your bowl in offering.
rafe shook his head, though his lips quirked in a small smile. “nah, you can keep your torture food. i’m good.” he shuffled over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “you left me for noodles?”
“i left you for the buldak carbonara noodles,” you corrected, twirling some noodles around your chopsticks and taking a bite.
“you’ve got issues,” he muttered, though there was no real heat in his voice.
“she fits right in,” sarah said, smirking at the two of you.
“clearly,” rafe muttered, glancing at his sisters. “what are you two doing awake anyway?”
wheezie shrugged, still focused on her bowl. “we got hungry.”
“and she woke me up,” sarah added, shooting wheezie a pointed look.
“whatever,” wheezie said with a mouthful of noodles. “these are worth it.”
rafe shook his head, his grip tightening slightly around your waist as he kissed your temple. “alright, noodle girl. finish up and come back to bed.”
“you could just sit and join us, you know,” you teased.
he smirked, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “or i could carry you upstairs and steal you back.”
your face went warm, nudging him away playfully. “let me finish my noodles first, rafe.”
he sighed dramatically, but you could see the fondness in his eyes as he let go. “fine. ten more minutes.”
as rafe leaned against the counter, watching the three of you eat, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.
the second time
it was the middle of the night at tannyhill again, and once more, you found yourself lying in bed wide awake. rafe was snoring softly beside you, one arm slung possessively over your waist. for most people, this setup would’ve been the perfect invitation to drift off into peaceful dreams.
but not for you.
you stomach growled, and the craving hit you like a truck. buldak noodles.
it had been a week since the first midnight noodle escapade, and rafe hadn’t let you live it down. but this time, you promised yourself you’d be quick and quiet—no waking him, no recruiting his sisters. just you, your noodles, and a late-night craving.
sliding out of bed, you tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs. the house was silent. you slipped into the kitchen, grabbed your favorite noodle packet, and started boiling water.
as the water bubbled away, you heard a faint noise behind you. freezing mid-stir, you listened carefully. footsteps? whispers?
not again, you thought. for a moment, you were sure it was wheezie and sarah trying to raid the pantry like last time. but when you turned around, you saw two familiar figures sneaking in through the back door: sarah and john b.
both froze when they saw you standing there with a pot of boiling water and a packet of noodles in your hand.
“oh, hey,” john b said casually, as if it was totally normal to be sneaking into the house in the middle of the night.
“uh… hi?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “what are you two doing?”
sarah tossed her keys onto the counter, her expression completely unbothered. “we went to the beach. felt like a midnight swim.”
“in jeans and sneakers?” you asked, eyeing their less-than-swim-friendly outfits.
“okay, fine,” sarah admitted, pulling a stray leaf out of her hair. “we were climbing trees. john b’s idea.”
“climbing trees,” you repeated, deadpan.
“don’t look at me,” john b said, holding his hands up. “she started it.”
you sighed, setting the noodles aside for a moment. “and you thought sneaking back in through the back door at midnight wouldn’t look suspicious?”
“we didn’t think anyone would be awake,” sarah said, sliding onto a barstool. “what are you doing up anyway?”
“i got hungry,” you said simply, holding up the bright pink packet of noodles.
“is this your thing now?” she asked, smirking. “midnight noodles?”
“apparently.”
“i could get used to that,” she smiled as she sat down.
john b sniffed the air, his eyebrows raising. “what is that? smells good.”
“buldak carbonara,” you said proudly, grabbing the seasoning packets.
“spicy noodles?” he asked, looking intrigued.
“they’re creamy and spicy,” you corrected.
“want some?”
before john b could answer, sarah cut in. “you do not want that, john b. it’s her thing, and she’s obsessed, but trust me—it’s like eating fire.”
“it’s not that spicy!” you protested, tearing open the sauce packet.
“i had some last week,” sarah said, shaking her head. “pretty sure i saw my life flash before my eyes.”
“if you’re making it as spicy as last time, i’m out. that stuff nearly killed me.”
john b snorted. “now i kinda want to try it.”
you rolled your eyes but grabbed a second packet, adjusting the ratio of sauce for her and john b’s bowls. “fine. i’ll make a mild version for the babies,” you teased.
“thank you,” sarah said, watching skeptically as you stirred the sauce into the noodles.
once the noodles were ready, you served up three bowls—yours with the full kick, and theirs with a more toned-down spice level. sarah and john b eyed their bowls suspiciously at first, but after a few tentative bites, they both relaxed.
“okay, this is actually good,” sarah admitted, twirling more noodles onto her fork.
john b nodded enthusiastically. “yeah, this is solid. creamy, just a little spicy—perfect.”
you smirked, taking a bite of your own bowl. “told you. midnight noodles are superior.”
“alright, i’ll give you that,” sarah said with a grin. “but only if you keep making it like this. none of that fire-breathing dragon nonsense.”
“no promises,” you said, winking.
the three of you were mid-laugh—sarah nearly choking on her noodles as john b tried to recount the time he got stuck in a tree—when the familiar sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs.
you froze, chopsticks halfway to your mouth.
“uh-oh,” sarah whispered, her eyes darting toward the doorway.
“don’t ‘uh-oh’ me,” you hissed back. “he won’t care.”
“i don’t know…” sarah said, a smirk already forming on her face.
before you could argue, rafe appeared in the doorway, looking half-asleep and entirely unimpressed. his hair stuck out in all directions, and he was wearing the same hoodie he’d been in earlier, though it looked like he’d thrown it on backward in his haste. His squinting eyes scanned the scene: you, sarah, john b, and three bowls of noodles.
for a second, he just stood there, rubbing his face like he couldn’t believe this was happening again.
“really?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “this is a regular thing now?”
“hi, baby,” you said, trying not to laugh at the way his brow furrowed.
ryafe’s eyes zeroed in on you first. “you ditched me for noodles. again.”
then his gaze shifted to sarah, who was grinning around her chopsticks. “you, i expected,” he said flatly.
finally, his eyes landed on john b, who had the audacity to look sheepish. “but you, john b? really, bro? midnight noodles with my girlfriend?”
john b put his hands up defensively, a noodle dangling from his chopsticks. “hey, man, she offered. i wasn’t gonna say no.”
“unbelievable,” rafe muttered, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the counter. “first my sisters, now you. what’s next? dad sneaking down for a bowl?”
sarah snorted. “dad’s too boring for this. but wheezie’s probably mad she missed it.”
“don’t give her ideas,” rafe grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at you. “i thought we had a deal. you wake me up if you’re leaving bed.”
you smirked, twirling some noodles onto your chopsticks. “and ruin the surprise? come on, babe.”
rafe sighed dramatically, running a hand through his messy hair. “at this point, i’m not even mad about the noodles. i’m mad that everyone’s in on this except me.”
“you’re welcome to join,” you offered, sliding the half-finished pot of noodles toward him.
he looked at it skeptically. “did you make it with that insane sauce again?”
“nope,” you said sweetly. “mild, just for sarah and john b.”
sarah nodded eagerly, her mouth full. “it’s really good. you should try it.”
john b held up his bowl. “yeah, man. it’s fire—but, like, the good kind. not the ‘i need milk’ kind.”
rafe hesitated, then sighed, grabbing a fork from the drawer. “fine. but if this is some kind of trick…”
“it’s not,” you promised, watching as he took a small bite.
to your delight, rafe’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and he nodded. “alright. this is actually good.”
“told you,” you said smugly, taking another bite from your own bowl.
rafe shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he grabbed a barstool and sat beside you. “i swear, you’re corrupting this entire house.”
“just making it more fun,” you said with a wink.
the four of you spent the next half hour sharing noodles and banter, the feeling of rafe’s initial annoyance melting away. by the time the pot was empty, even rafe seemed to admit that midnight noodles weren’t the worst tradition to start.
and as you leaned into his side, your bowl empty and your stomach full, you couldn’t help but smile. midnight chaos, sleepy rafe, and noodles—what more could you ask for?
the third time
the house was silent, and the air was still, except for the soft snores of your boyfriend beside you. you glanced at rafe, his face half-buried in the pillow, the rise and fall of his chest slow and steady.
you tried. you really did.
gently nudging his shoulder, you whispered, “rafe… babe, i’m hungry.”
nothing.
you shook him a little harder. “rafe, come on. midnight noodles?”
still nothing.
letting out a sigh, you stared at him for a moment, debating your next move. but his peaceful expression convinced you otherwise—it wasn’t worth waking the grumpy side of rafe cameron just for noodles.
so, you slipped out of bed, grabbed a hoodie, and padded downstairs, the craving for your beloved buldak carbonara too strong to ignore.
the kitchen was eerily quiet. it felt strange not having sarah, wheezie, or even john b around, their late-night antics usually keeping the house alive. you moved quietly, grabbing a pot and filling it with water. the pantry drawer creaked softly as you pulled it open to retrieve your prized noodle packet.
but just as you reached for it—
“ooh, are we making noodles again?”
you let out a startled yelp, spinning around to see wheezie standing there, her arms crossed and a mischievous grin plastered across her face.
“wheezie! what the hell? you scared me!” you hissed quietly, clutching the packet like it was your lifeline.
she shrugged, completely unbothered. “you were loud. i heard the drawer.”
“you are supposed to be asleep.”
“please,” she whined, hopping onto a barstool. “i’ve been waiting for this. i’m still mad i missed it last time.”
you groaned, setting the pot on the stove and turning on the heat. “okay, fine. but this time, you’re helping.”
“deal,” wheezie said, practically bouncing off the stool to join you. “what do i do?”
“start by getting the bowls,” you instructed, grabbing the scissors to cut open the noodle packet.
as wheezie rummaged through the cabinet, she started her mini rant. “sarah told me all about last time, by the way. midnight noodles with you, her, and john b? and nobody thought to wake me up? rude.”
she was midway through her mini rant, waving the sauce packet for emphasis, when a voice interrupted from the doorway.
“this, again?”
you froze, chopsticks clutched in your hand, and slowly turned toward the source. standing there, looking far too amused for someone who was supposedly asleep, was ward cameron himself.
wheezie nearly dropped the sauce packet. “dad?”
you tried to play it cool, giving him your best innocent look. “huh? again? no idea what you’re talking about.”
ward stepped into the kitchen, arms crossed and a sly smile on his face. “who do you think cleans this up in the morning? or keeps restocking the noodles? you guys go through five packs at a time.”
wheezie gasped, whipping around to face you. “you knew!”
ward chuckled, shaking his head. “of course, i knew.”
you winced, trying to salvage the situation. “well… uh, thank you for restocking?”
wheezie, recovering quickly, grinned. “wait, so you don’t care?”
“i didn’t say that,” ward replied, giving her a pointed look. “but i figured it was harmless. midnight noodles are better than midnight parties, i guess.”
before you could respond, another voice chimed in from behind him.
“ooh, it’s midnight noodle time?”
you turned to see sarah stroll into the kitchen, her hair messy and a gleam of excitement in her eyes. she took one look at the scene—the noodles, the bowls, and ward standing there—and grinned. “guess i came down at the perfect time.”
wheezie raised an eyebrow. “you weren’t even awake five minutes ago.”
“i have a sixth sense for these things,” sarah said smugly, grabbing a bowl and plopping herself onto a stool.
ward sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose but still smiling. “this house…” he muttered under his breath, though he didn’t leave.
you decided to just embrace the chaos, handing sarah the next sauce packet. “fine. let’s make it a semi-family noodle night, i guess.”
“finally,” wheezie said, grinning as she helped stir the pot.
“i’m not making my own, though,” sarah declared, leaning on the counter. “this is your thing.”
“you’re so lazy,” wheezie muttered, but she passed the finished noodles to you for seasoning anyway.
as the four of you stood there—cooking, laughing, and chatting—the kitchen felt strangely cozy. ward shared stories about catching rafe sneaking snacks as a kid, wheezie kept complaining about how long it took her to get in on the noodle tradition, and sarah teased you about how you’d turned her boyfriend’s house into a late-night ramen hub.
when the noodles were finally ready, the four of you sat down to eat, the conversation flowing easily.
“this is actually really good,” ward admitted after a few bites, surprising everyone.
“you’re just figuring that out now?” wheezie teased, twirling noodles onto her fork.
sarah leaned toward you conspiratorially, repeating rafe’s words from the last time. “you’ve corrupted the entire family.”
you laughed, glancing at ward, who just shook his head with a bemused smile. “maybe,” you said. “but at least we’re all well-fed.”
the kitchen was alive with laughter and the clinking of chopsticks against bowls. wheezie was dramatically recounting her missed opportunity during the last noodle night, sarah was making snarky comments between bites, and ward was suspiciously quiet as he polished off his bowl.
“dad, you’re eating like you’ve been waiting for this all day,” sarah teased, nudging his arm.
“not true,” ward replied, his tone far too casual to be convincing. “it’s just good.”
you were mid-bite when the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs. everyone froze, turning toward the doorway.
there stood rose cameron, her silk robe tied snugly around her waist, her hair perfectly in place despite the late hour. she took in the scene before her: ward sitting at the island with an empty bowl, sarah and wheezie slurping cheesy noodles, and you standing at the stove stirring yet another batch.
her expression was a mixture of confusion and mild exasperation.
“what is going on here?” she demanded, crossing her arms.
wheezie, unfazed, waved her chopsticks in the air. “midnight noodles. want some?”
rose blinked, clearly processing the absurdity of the situation. “i beg your pardon?”
“midnight noodles,” sarah repeated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “it’s kind of a thing now.”
rose’s gaze shifted to ward, her eyebrows lifting. “and you’re okay with this?”
ward shrugged, completely unbothered. “it’s harmless. besides, they’re good. you should try some.”
“harmless?” rose echoed, gesturing to the cluttered counter and sink full of pots. “do you know how much cleanup this is going to take?”
“i’ll clean it up,” you offered quickly, not wanting to face her full wrath.
rose gave you a pointed look, then sighed, shaking her head. “i swear, this family is impossible.”
“oh, come on, rose,” ward said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “live a little. have some noodles.”
sarah snorted into her bowl. “yeah, rose. don’t knock it till you try it.”
wheezie chimed in, grinning. “i mean, if dad’s eating it, you know it’s worth it.”
rose hesitated, clearly debating whether to shut the whole thing down or give in. finally, with an exasperated sigh, she threw up her hands. “fine. one bowl. but only to see what all this fuss is about.”
wheezie practically cheered as you quickly made a fresh serving for rose, this time dialing back the spice even more. she accepted the bowl reluctantly, sitting down at the island with the rest of the family.
as she took her first bite, everyone watched with bated breath.
“well?” sarah asked, smirking.
rose chewed slowly, her face giving nothing away. then, to everyone’s surprise, she nodded. “it’s… not bad.”
“not bad?” wheezie repeated, laughing. “that’s basically a rave review coming from you.”
rose rolled her eyes but took another bite, and the conversation picked up again, the kitchen filled with warmth and chaos.
when the pot was finally empty, rose stood up, brushing imaginary crumbs off her robe. “i’m going back to bed. and this better be spotless by morning.”
“yes, ma’am,” you said with a mock salute, earning a laugh from sarah and wheezie.
as rose disappeared up the stairs, ward leaned back in his chair, smirking. “told you she’d like it.”
before anyone could respond, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps came from the hallway.
and then rafe appeared, leaning against the doorway, his hair sticking up at wild angles, his hoodie half on and his face a mix of confusion and irritation. he squinted at the scene before him: ward sitting with an empty bowl, wheezie and sarah with noodles in hand, and you standing at the stove with chopsticks in one hand and a sheepish expression on your face.
“i really don’t like this,” rafe said, his voice groggy. he gestured vaguely to the kitchen. “this is happening again? and you didn’t wake me again?”
“hi, baby,” you said with an awkward smile.
rafe just blinked at you, his expression unimpressed. “no, seriously. you’re downstairs, eating noodles with my entire family, and i’m… asleep?”
you shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. “i tried to wake you! you’re a very heavy sleeper, rafe.”
“that’s not—” rafe started, but sarah interrupted with a laugh.
“oh, don’t pout, rafe. you missed it because you sleep like a rock.”
wheezie grinned, pointing her chopsticks at him. “she’s right. we’re over here having the time of our lives, and you’re drooling into your pillow.”
“i don’t drool,” rafe said defensively, glaring at wheezie before turning his attention back to you. “you could’ve tried harder to wake me up.”
“i shook you! i whispered! i even said, ‘midnight noodles,’ and you didn’t budge!” you said, laughing now. “at some point, i had to just accept defeat.”
rafe let out an exaggerated sigh, running a hand down his face. “unbelievable. first wheezie and Sarah then sarah and john b, now my dad and wheezie and sarah again? what’s next, rose?”
“already happened,” sarah said, smirking. “she had a bowl. loved it.”
rafe stared at her, then at ward, who gave him a shrug and a knowing look.
“even rose?” rafe said, his voice bordering on betrayal. “really?”
“welcome to the club,” ward said with a chuckle. “you’re late, son.”
rafe groaned, walking into the kitchen and flopping onto a stool next to you. “fine. where’s mine?”
you grinned, handing him the last bowl you’d prepared. “right here. but it’s the mild version. i wasn’t about to make a new batch just for you.”
he took the bowl with a grumble but didn’t hesitate to dig in, the familiar taste of the noodles clearly softening his irritation.
“see? now everyone’s happy,” you said, leaning against his shoulder.
rafe looked at you, still chewing, and muttered, “barely.”
sarah rolled her eyes. “oh, calm down. you’re here now. the chaos is complete.”
bonus
it had been one of those long, exhausting days. you’d been running around, working on a million things at once—picking up groceries, answering calls, finishing tasks, and just trying to survive the whirlwind. by the time you and rafe finally collapsed into bed, you were wiped out, barely able to keep your eyes open. you fell asleep almost instantly, the weight of the past few days finally catching up to you.
rafe woke up a few hours later, his stomach growling in hunger. the soft moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silvery glow on the room. je groggily turned toward you, only to find you sound asleep, your body curled up against the blankets.
he smiled softly at how peaceful you looked, but his stomach was practically screaming for food. he nudged you lightly, hoping you might stir—after all, you had made a habit of late-night noodles together.
“babe,” he whispered, giving your shoulder a gentle shake. “baby, you awake?”
but there was no response. you were out cold, snoring softly in a way that made it clear you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
he sighed. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”
a deep hunger gnawed at him, and despite the temptation to just sleep through it, he couldn't ignore his cravings. grumbling under his breath, he got out of bed, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and making his way downstairs.
rafe padded down the stairs, grumbling to himself. he could always just raid the pantry, but that wasn’t going to fill him up in the same way. he paused at the kitchen drawer and opened it, scanning for something sweet. when his eyes landed on a few cookies tucked in the corner, he grabbed one and took a bite, savoring the sugar for a moment.
still not enough to satisfy him.
he closed the drawer and walked further into the kitchen, noticing the faint light coming from the living room. there, sitting around the coffee table, were sarah, kiara, wheezie, and ward—all waiting expectantly.
when sarah heard the sound of footsteps approaching, she shot up, excited. “finally—”
she froze when she saw who it was. “oh. it’s just rafe.”
rafe rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his cookie and leaning against the doorframe. “yeah, thanks for the warm welcome. can’t a guy just get a midnight snack?”
“and what are you doing here, kie?”
kiara, sitting cross-legged on the couch, flashed him a wide grin. “well, i couldn’t miss it. i heard so much about this midnight noodle thing from sarah that i had to try it myself.” she gave sarah a playful nudge. “i heard it’s become a legendary tradition in this family.”
wheezie grinned softly. “oh, it’s definitely legendary.” she took her chopsticks and tapped them dramatically against the counter as she readied the noodles. “we’ve been having these late-night noodle sessions since last month. but guess who helped start this? me.”
rafe looked at her with an eyebrow raised, still processing the whole situation. “so, you guys just wait for me to wake up to make noodles?”
“no,” sarah chimed in, “we wait for you to wake up so we can eat noodles. it’s a whole process, you know.”
rafe was about to make a snarky remark when he felt his stomach growl loudly again. “alright, alright. i’m hungry. but seriously, i tried to wake up my girlfriend, and she’s a rock.”
“you couldn’t wake y/n up?” kiara asked, her brows furrowing.
“yeah,” rafe sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “she didn’t budge. i was this close to dumping a glass of water on her just to get a response.”
wheezie looked over at him with a raised brow. “you should’ve just offered her some noodles. you know, she never says no to these.”
rafe frowned. “that’s not the point, wheeze.”
he leaned back against the counter, still holding his cookie. he glanced over at his dad, who was sitting casually on the couch, watching the chaos unfold with a hint of amusement.
“okay, so i tried to wake her up,” rafe added, running a hand through his hair. “but she’s completely dead to the world. like, no reaction.”
ward raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “well, if she doesn’t wake up, who’s gonna make the noodles?”
the entire house went quiet for a moment. everyone turned to look at each other, the realization hitting them all at once. without you, there would be no noodles. the dreaded no noodle night.
wheezie, ever the problem-solver, jumped to her feet. “we can do it. right, sarah? we’ve got this. we’ve watched her do it like a thousand times.”
sarah stared at her, blinking in disbelief. “are you crazy?” she said, her voice incredulous. “none of us can make the noodles like she does! you think we’re capable of pulling off the perfect midnight noodle recipe? you’re out of your mind.”
wheezie held up her hands, trying to calm the storm. “no, seriously. it’s simple. boil water, add noodles, dump away some water, add cheese and cream, dump in the sauce. done.”
“yeah, except we always argue over how much of sauce to use,” sarah countered, throwing her hands in the air.
“okay, but we have to use right ingredients now,” wheezie said, her confidence growing. “i mean, last time y/n wasn’t here, was a disaster because you decided to add soy sauce to everything.”
“i was going for flavor,” sarah shot back defensively. “you just don’t understand the artistry of seasoning.”
kie, who had been quietly observing, suddenly broke in with a laugh. “honestly, i’d like to see you try, wheezie. if you can make them as good as she does, i’ll eat the whole pot.” she was clearly egging them on, just to see where this would go.
rafe glanced between his dad, sister, and the others, amused by the chaos. “i think they’re underestimating you, wheeze. you might be onto something.”
wheezie flashed a smug smile. “exactly! i’ve got this. just leave it to me.” she pulled out the packets of noodles, looking at sarah for confirmation. “so, are we doing the spicy ones, or the mild ones this time?”
sarah sighed dramatically. “i told you, we’re doing mild. mild. we don’t need another spicy incident like last time.”
“can we do both?” kiara interjected, leaning forward from the couch. “it’s not that hard, right?”
“yeah, no, we can’t,” sarah replied, arms crossed. “if we mix flavors, it’ll be a disaster. like last time.”
wheezie’s eyes narrowed. “you ruined the noodles last time, not me.”
“i did not ruin them,” sarah snapped back. “you ruined them by adding too much sauce, and then they were like… liquid lava. you can't make noodles that spicy.”
“it’s the right amount of spice!” wheezie shot back. “if you can’t handle it, that’s on you!”
“okay, okay,” rafe said, stepping between them, looking a little exasperated. “how about we just stick to one thing and avoid turning this into a nuclear war?” he glanced at ward, who was sitting quietly at the table, clearly enjoying the chaos. “dad, tell them it’s not worth arguing over noodles.”
ward took a slow sip of his drink and grinned. “i’m just here for the noodles, kid. not getting involved in this one.”
it was clear that, in this family, noodles became a big deal. and while he wasn’t sure they’d survive the night without you, it seemed they were determined to try. all of them deiced to move towards the kitchen, watching the scene unfold before them as wheezie and sarah tried to make the noodles.
“alright,” rafe said, grabbing a chair and sitting down at the table. “i’ll just sit back and watch this trainwreck.” he looked at kiara. “if they mess this up, we’re all gonna starve.”
kiara grinned and took a seat next to him. “i’m here for the drama.”
wheezie set the pot on the stove, clearly in charge now. “watch and learn, people.” she added the noodles with a flourish, clearly more confident than anyone else in the room.
sarah crossed her arms. “i’m just saying, if this goes south, i’m not taking the blame.”
wheezie rolled her eyes. “trust me, it’ll be perfect.”
ward watched the entire scene with a quiet smile, shaking his head. “i can’t wait to see how this ends.”
as they started getting the noodles cooking, chaos resumed. sarah grabbed the spoon to stir the pot, only to have wheezie take it from her and dramatically announce, “you’re stirring wrong. you’ve got to spin it, not just swirl it around like you’re mixing a salad.”
“oh, seriously, can we just cook the noodles?” sarah groaned, rolling her eyes. “you make everything more complicated than it needs to be.”
“i’m just trying to make sure we don’t ruin the noodles, alright?” wheezie shot back, obviously taking her task very seriously.
you stirred awake, groggy and slightly disoriented, as faint sounds drifted up the stairs. it started as a low hum of voices, but as you became more alert, it was unmistakably the sound of laughter, bickering, and... was that a pot clanging?
you glanced over at rafe’s side of the bed and found it empty. typical. his late-night hunger strikes again. sitting up, you stretched and yawned, your stomach grumbling faintly as if to agree with your decision to investigate.
quietly padding down the stairs, you followed the familiar smell of something spicy and savory. the closer you got to the kitchen, the more chaotic the scene revealed itself to be.
the first thing you saw was rafe and ward sitting at the table, both looking more amused than anything else. rafe was slouched in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, clearly over the chaos, while ward nursed a glass of something that was definitely not water, a small smirk playing on his lips.
but that wasn’t all.
kiara was the next to catch your eye. she stood up the moment she saw you, beaming. “hey! you’re awake!” she said, crossing the room in a few steps to pull you into a warm hug. “we missed you for the start of this noodle madness.”
“what... what is even happening here?” you asked groggily, still half-asleep as you glanced around.
“welcome to the show,” rafe called from the table, flashing you a lopsided grin. “apparently, if you don’t wake up to make noodles, the entire house loses its mind.”
at the stove, wheezie and sarah were engaged in what could only be described as a full-on noodle battle. wheezie was stirring a pot while sarah tried to take over, her voice rising with irritation.
“you’re stirring it wrong!” sarah snapped, reaching for the spoon in wheezie’s hand. “you’re not mixing the sauce properly. it’s gonna be uneven!”
“excuse me, i know what i’m doing!” wheezie retorted, pulling the spoon back. “you’re the one who always burns it. back off!”
“i don’t burn it!” sarah shouted, throwing her hands up dramatically. “i caramelize it for flavor!”
“that’s just fancy talk for burning it!” wheezie shot back.
you blinked, taking it all in. “is this... about noodles?”
“yup,” kie said with a laugh, guiding you toward the table. “and it’s been like this for almost twenty minutes. honestly, i don’t know how they haven’t burned the kitchen down yet.”
“they might still,” ward said casually, taking a slow sip from his glass. he gestured toward the chaos. “this is what happens when you don’t wake up. no one can agree on anything.”
“i tried to wake you,” rafe chimed in, shrugging. “you didn’t even budge. you were out cold.”
you gave him a small, apologetic smile as you slid into the chair beside him. “it’s been a long day. i didn’t even hear you.”
“well,” rafe said with a smirk, leaning closer, “now you can witness this mess firsthand.”
your stomach growled, pulling your focus back to the kitchen. “are they even close to being done?”
“define ‘close,’” rafe replied, gesturing toward the stove where the two sister were still fighting over the sauce packet.
“i’m adding all of it,” wheezie declared, her voice resolute as she began to tear open the packet.
“no, you’re not!” sarah said, grabbing her wrist. “do you want everyone’s mouths to catch fire? we’re adding half—half!”
“it’s not my fault you can’t handle spice!” wheezie quipped, holding the packet out of sarah’s reach.
“stop!” you called, finally stepping in. “wheezie, sarah, just—let me do it, okay? sit down before you two kill each other over noodles.”
they both froze, blinking at you like children caught misbehaving. Reluctantly, sarah handed you the spoon while wheezie stepped back, muttering, “i was doing fine, but okay.”
you took over, quickly finishing the noodles with a practiced ease. in no time, the pot was off the stove, and you were dividing the steaming noodles into bowls.
as you placed a bowl in front of rafe, he gave you a look of pure gratitude. “this is why i need you, babe. no one else can handle these lunatics.”
ward chuckled. “true. if you hadn’t come down, we might’ve been here all night.”
kie grinned, holding up her chopsticks. “well, i’m glad i stayed for this. midnight noodles are officially my new favorite thing.”
sarah huffed, still glaring at wheezie. “next time, we’re doing it my way.”
“not if i get to the kitchen first,” wheezie shot back, smirking.
you rolled your eyes playfully as you took a seat beside rafe, finally ready to enjoy the meal. “remind me to never sleep through this again.”
“please don’t,” he said, leaning over to steal a bite from your bowl. “i don’t think my sanity can take another night like this.”
with laughter echoing around the room and the comforting warmth of noodles filling the air, you couldn’t help but smile. midnight noodles were chaotic, ridiculous, and absolutely perfect in their own way.
+ one time he cooks for you
the house was unusually quiet, with rose and ward away in the bahamas for business, wheezie holed up in her room, and sarah at the chateau with john b. normally, the lack of chaos would’ve been a treat, but today, the stillness only amplified how awful you felt. you were bundled up in a blanket on the couch, sniffling and surrounded by a collection of crumpled tissues, trying to find some comfort in the familiar melodies of frozen 2.
rafe sat beside you, his arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, occasionally glancing at you with concern. “you need anything, baby?” he asked softly, careful not to disturb you too much.
you sniffled, curling further into your fluffy blanket. “i’m kinda hungry,” you admitted, your voice hoarse.
he gave you a small smile. “alright, i’ve got this. how about your favorite noodles?”
your face lit up, despite your exhaustion, and you nodded. “that sounds amazing.”
rafe stood up, stretching briefly before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “be right back,” he murmured, heading for the stairs. quietly, he knocked on wheezie’s door, sticking his head in when she called out. “hey, i’m making noodles for her. you wanna help?”
wheezie’s eyes lit up immediately. “obviously. let’s go!”
the two of them got to work in the kitchen, keeping their voices low and trying not to make too much noise. wheezie buzzed with excitement, pulling out the noodles and sauces while rafe set a pot of water on the stove.
“don’t forget to stir it, or it’ll stick to the bottom,” wheezie reminded him, sounding like a seasoned pro.
“i know,i know, wheeze” rafe said, rolling his eyes but smiling. “you’re not the noodle boss here.”
“actually, i am,” wheezie retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. “you just don’t wanna admit it.”
suddenly, the front door opened, and john b’s voice echoed down the hall. “anyone home?”
sarah’s voice followed. “oh my gosh, it smells so good in here.”
“living room!” you called weakly, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as they appeared in the doorway.
sarah gasped when she saw you. “oh no, my baby, what happened to you? you look awful.”
“gee, thanks,” you said, smiling faintly. “just a cold. nothing dramatic.”
john b plopped down in the armchair while sarah sat on the edge of the couch near your feet. her eyes flicked to the tv. “frozen 2 again?”
“it’s her favorite,” rafe called from the kitchen, his voice full of affection.
“it’s the best,” you said passionately, sitting up a little. “the music is incredible, the animation is stunning, and elsa’s whole journey of self-discovery—ugh, it’s just perfect.”
sarah smiled. “okay, until olaf’s whole ‘dying’ scene. that was devastating and uncalled for.”
you nodded fervently. “don’t remind me. i cry every single time.”
john b chimed in. “but he comes back! like, i get it’s sad, but he’s fine in the end.”
“that doesn’t make it less emotional,” you countered. “and don’t even get me started on elsa being an absolute badass in the glacier. her solo scene? literal chills—no pun intended.”
sarah laughed. “i think you’ve seen this movie too many times.”
“not possible,” you said firmly. “the frozen movies are cinematic perfection.”
“alright, noodle delivery!” rafe interrupted, entering the room with a pot in his hands. wheezie trailed behind him, carrying extra napkins and plates.
“for the first time in forever—” wheezie began to sing, only for rafe to cut her off.
“nope. we’re not doing that.”
“but it’s perfect!” wheezie protested as she set the napkins down. “you’re no fun.”
the noodles smelled amazing, and you wasted no time digging in, the spicy warmth soothing your throat. everyone else followed suit, and for the first time ever, you all ate together on the couch, passing bowls and joking about the movie.
as the night wore on, your exhaustion crept back in. your head gradually drifted to rafe’s shoulder, your bowl empty in your lap. he adjusted his position slightly, careful not to wake you, and wrapped an arm around you protectively.
“out like a light,” john b said, nodding toward you with a small smile.
rafe glanced down at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “she’s had a rough day,” he said quietly. “she deserves some rest.”
sarah pulled a blanket over you both. “she’s got a good one, rafe. don’t screw it up.”
he chuckled softly, his hand resting on your arm. “yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “i know.”
and with the movie’s credits rolling in the background, the warm camaraderie of the group filled the quiet house, leaving the night feeling cozy and perfect.
CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚。⋆
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WHEN HE WALKS IN, I AM LOVED 𖥔 HUSBAND!ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE
𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽
❪ 𝖠𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖤 𝖬𝒾𝖮 ❫ 。 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽!𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 & 𝖿!𝗋 1682wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ── 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 愛 / 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒
する ܃ they can slide in a diamond on my ring finger anytime :3 ( and then i wake up... )
reb𝑙ogs ꪆৎ 𝑓eedbacks
HUSBAND!HEESEUNG who comes home late at night— at that hour when the ongoing web series becomes background noise for you, and you feel your eyelids closing shut on the couch. “y/n?” his whisper is barely audible as he approaches your sleeping figure, heart wrenching as he sees you on the couch in that form, probably waiting for him. slowly, he lifts you up so as to not wake you, and carries you to the bedroom. heeseung carefully places you on the bed, tucking the blanket around you with practiced gentleness. his hand brushes a strand of hair from your face as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “you make it hard not to love you even more,” he whispers to you, giggling, he finally presses one final kiss on your cheeks before entering the shower.
HUSBAND!HEESEUNG who nevers forgets to bring you flowers everyday. it varies everyday as well— sometimes it’s pink roses, or tulips or baby breaths or lilies. your beauty reminds you of flowers, and so you receive this gift from your lovely husband everyday. today it’s a bouquet of daisies, tied neatly with a pale yellow ribbon. he steps into the house with the bouquet behind his back, with a playful smile on his face. “for my pretty lady,” he brings the flowers forward to you, chuckling upon seeing your pleased expression. “you're too much sometimes,” you giggle, but the way your cheeks flush betrays how much you love it. heeseung grins, pulling you close. “too much? or just the right amount?”
HUSBAND!HEESEUNG who has made it a ritual to dance with you on the kitchen floors. he loves to just play jazz, pull you close and sway to the music with the love of his life. without a word, he gently takes the spoon from your hand, places it on the counter, and turns you around to face him. “what are you doing?” you ask, a laugh escaping as his hands slid to your waist. “dancing with my wife,” he says simply, pulling you closer. the cut tomatoes are long forgotten on the cutting board, as he stares into your eyes with utmost adoration and love. he finally leans in for a kiss, his softly lips touching yours and moving in sync with your dance and the music, his hands crep up and pull you closer by the waist, another hand cups your face as if he has no time. “you’re the best part of my day,” he whispers as he pulls back, out of breath but full of love for you.
HUSBAND!JONGSEONG who always makes sure that you’re pampered and spoiled by him— he wants his beautiful wife to have everything in this world. from designer brands to quality time, you just have to ask jongseong and he will have it by your feet. every day, jongseong made sure you never had to lift a finger for anything. when you mention wanting a new bag, a designer one, the next day, there it is—delivered right to your doorstep, with a sweet note attached: “for my beautiful wife, because you deserve the best.” but it isn't just about the material things. he often surprises you with romantic dinners, planning spontaneous getaways, and always carving out time from his busy schedule to spend with you. you never have to ask twice. he seems to read your mind, anticipating your every need.
HUSBAND!JONGSEONG who cooks your favourite meals for you. it’s a ritual for him to cook dinner right after he gets home, he can’t see his pretty wife overworking, besides, you love his cooking— and that's enough motivation for him to cook for you everyday. the aroma of your adored dish wafts from the kitchen as your husband appears from it soon, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up with him carrying the dish on a plate, a satisfied smile on his face. as soon as jongseong puts the plate down, you take a bite, your eyes lighting up at the familiar, comforting flavors. “it’s perfect!,” you said, voice muffled by the food. jongseong chuckles, wiping a bit of sauce from the corner of your lips with his thumb. “i learned from the best, you,” he sighs, kissing the corner of your lips.
HUSBAND!JONGSEONG who always creeps up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulders. it doesn’t matter if you’re busy with your work, if you’re baking a cake or if you’re simply standing by the window, jongseong loves back hugs, he enjoys the warmth of your body in this way. “you smell so good,” he says, burying his face in the nape of your neck while his hands snake in around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “it’s your perfume!” you sigh, lowly giggling as you return to your work on your laptop. a shiver runs down your spine as he snuggles in face further in, before lifting it to press kisses on your neck and shoulder. “it suits you best,” he hums.
HUSBAND!JAEYUN who listens intently to you, every word that occurs from your mouth, jaeyun is gulping those up. no matter if they’re the smallest rants about your day or the huge drama at your workplace, jaeyun always gets lost in your words and angelic face when you go on talking— he wishes you won’t stop so he can stare a little bit longer at you. “and then— jaeyun, are you even listening to me?” you sigh, plopping down beside him on the couch when you realise he hasn’t uttered a word since you started talking, he’s just staring at your face. “yeah, of course i am!” jaeyun defends himself, sitting up straight, “you said how your coworker had the audacity? well yeah, i hate her too,” he rolls his eyes in a playful manner, making you giggle and fall into his lap, and jaeyun immediately pulls you in, relishing the moment.
HUSBAND!JAEYUN who always notices the slightest shiver you make when the winter wind bites at your skin. you both stroll through the park, the cold air nipping at your cheeks. despite your thick scarf and gloves, you cant help but rub your arms for warmth. without a word, jaeyun stops, slipping off his coat. “jaeyun, you’ll freeze!” you protest as he drapes it over your shoulders. “i’d rather be cold than see you shiver,” he says softly, pulling the coat snug around you. his hands lingers on your arms, rubbing them gently to warm you further. your heart melts at the gesture, the oversized coat practically swallowing you whole. “you’re too sweet,” you murmur, leaning into his touch. jaeyun grins, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your nose. “only for my lovely wife.”
HUSBAND!JAEYUN who remembers the smallest details about you— to your regular coffee order to how much cheese you like in your toast, he treats everything about you like an important event. he never fails to flutter your heart when it comes to these, ever so alert about your habits. “i picked up your favorite chocolate chip cookies,” he says casually, holding out a plate to you. your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “how did you—” “i remember you told me last week how much you’ve been craving them,” he grins, watching you take a bite, your face lighting up at the taste. you smile, your heart swelling with affection. “you always know how to make me feel loved, jae.” he chuckles, sitting beside you and pulling you close. “it’s easy when someone as wonderful as you is in my life.”
HUSBAND!SUNGHOON who always offers to help you relax, by massaging your head or your legs. you deserve the ultimate care, and he’s more than willing to be a helping hand. you’re curled up on the couch, a sigh escaping your lips as you massage your sore feet, the exhaustion from work settling in. without a word, Sunghoon kneels in front of you, his hands gently taking your feet into his lap. “let me help,” he says softly, his voice calm and soothing. you lean back, surprised by his tenderness as he carefully starts massaging your feet, his touch firm but gentle. “i don’t deserve this,” you murmur, closing your eyes. “you do,” he replies, his hands moving expertly, kneading the tension out of your muscles. “you work so hard, and i want you to feel cared for.”
HUSBAND!SUNGHOON who instantly becomes a nurse when you’re sick. he’s in utmost tension and cancels all his meetings and makes sure everything at home is taken care of, from your medicine to the softest blankets, ensuring you’re always comfortable. throughout the day, sunghoon prepares warm soups with his own hands, making sure each one is exactly to your liking. he checks your temperature regularly, offering gentle reassurance whenever you feel a little colder than usual. sunghoon is always there to brush hair away from your face, hold your hand in his, presses kisses to your face and provide reassurance that everything is going to be just fine, as long as he is here.
HUSBAND!SUNGHOON who notices the smallest things that stress you out, like when your phone charger starts to fray or when your car tire looks a little low. one afternoon, you come home to find him tinkering with your phone charger, his focused expression making you smile. “hey, what are you up to?” you ask, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. he looks up, a soft grin on his face. “just fixing your charger. i know how annoying it can be when it stops working right when you need it.” you roll your eyes playfully. “you’re spoiling me, you know that?” sunghoon chuckles, setting the charger down once he's done. “anything for you. you work hard enough; let me take care of the small stuff.” you walk over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “i’m lucky to have you.” he smiles, pulling you into a hug. “and im lucky to take care of my wife.”
© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto
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The villan heard the laughter before it abruptly stopped. She glanced up and saw... hero? The villan had never thought she would see hero again. Ok okokokokokokkokokok try not to panic, just act normal the villan told herself. The hero while this was happening had stopped dead in her track and was staring at the villan mouth agape. The rest of the gaggle of 20-somethings around her were glancing at the hero trying to figure out who she was staring at. villan told herself ok um just ignore hero surely she'll think she's seeing things or something, I look a lot different since we last fought. Besides I'm supposed to be dead. One of heros friends shook a hand in front of her face,
"Hello? Hero? Anyone in there?" He said knocking on heros forehead
"Huh? Oh yeah I'm fine," hero said with a nervous laugh, and tried to wrench their gaze away from the woman at the bar she seemed so familiar but hero couldn't place her face "just, y'know"
"Because you're not telling me I really don't know but ok" responded heros friendwith a smirk.
Throughout the night hero kept glancing at villan and her friends kept nudging her and whispering at her villan had noticed. Her plan was to get drunk so she would forget this had happened and then call a cab to get home. She had avoided this for so long! She had faked her own death-quite convincingly she thought, moved to a different city, made a new identity, and cut contact with anyone from her past life and STILL the hero had found her, the villan scolded herself. What comes next? Police banging on her door? Going to court? Prison? She supposed she signed up for this when she chose the life of crime but she had grown since then! She'd changed! She was no longer a bloodthirsty criminal trying to destroy a city she had a nice apartment a working car and a cat life was going well. Well, she laughed to herself good things never last forever.
"What'cha laughing about?" Came a voice from next to her, villan glanced up and had it not been for her already very pale complexion she would have gone white as a ghost. Hero had sat down next to her and was trying to make small talk.
"So uh how's your week been? Whats your name?" Hero was shitty at small talk and she knew it but was she this bad? The woman she sat next to was only a few years older then her at most and was staring at her like she just said that she liked homework, a mix of horror, confusion and fear. "Aaaaaaare you gonna respond or just stare at me like I'm a zoo exhibit?"
"Um sorry I just... do we know eachother?" Villan blurted, she didn't mean to, but she desperately needed to know if hero could recognise her. It sounded quite rude after she said it, but too late now she guessed.
I've lost motivation for this a bit, might come back later. If you guys like it. Please be nice I haven't written any storys since last February. Feedback and ideas welcome! Thanks
Edit: for those who were asking to be tagged in any and all stroys based of this prompt: @axxolotlqueen @lillysys @randomness20117
You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.
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"baby ,i care for you,, 2.6k words synopsis: caleb nurses you back to health contains: fluff! lads caleb x f!reader (caleb calls you "good girl" + "silly girl" x1) ,established relationship! ,just some self-indulgent fluffy sick comfort ,chef!caleb ,kind of stern!caleb (he's just worried) ,caleb makes u take medicine ,two suggestive jokes (cause its caleb) ,like one second of angst ,one single use of "gege" ,he carries you to the couch ,he pats your head/gives u a massage ,lulls you to sleep ,one head kiss ,i think thats it note: not proofread! its 5 in the morning when i post this so forgive any mistakes i just needed this out of my system i need him to take care of me so baaad :x enjoy
-
for some reason, you woke early for someone who didn't sleep till the late hours into the morning last night.
what you'd gotten couldn't even be considered proper sleep, more like just a nap, but somehow your body wasn't too keen on slipping back into the grips of slumber that easily.
and somehow, you woke up feeling even worse than you had for the past two days.
even if your sore throat was mostly gone, you heaved out a couple of dry coughs as you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket, shivering in the cold that surrounded the room (courtesy of your comfort, unable to sleep comfortably otherwise even if it worsened your current condition), and on top of that your head was softly throbbing. not wanting to deal with it, you decided to lay back completely to soothe the pain.
your nose was stuffy and runny at the same time, reaching for some tissues on the bedside table to wipe away at it, not before sneezing a couple of times and sniffling afterwards— it was so sensitive today for some reason.
you let out a deep sigh, soft breaths escaping from your mouth as you couldn't breathe comfortably from your nose.
how did it get worse? sure, you only took medicine once yesterday instead of every couple of hours like you were supposed to, but seriously, it was just a sore throat and a small fever!
you sighed, irritated that you were still sick. weren't you supposed to be the one with a good immune system? you and caleb often argued about it, and if he were here, he would surely use this as a point that his was better.
the yearning for his presence bit into the silence of the room as you laid comfortably on your back, shutting your eyes once again as your shallow breaths evened out.
you thought about getting up, washing your face and then making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, and then something to eat so that you could take your medicine and then proceed to rest- something caleb would already be doing for you the moment he'd realize you were sick.
but he wasn't here right now, and even though you'd seen his moments posts about being out with friends, you had no plan to worry him when this was just a little cold.
you thought about it- you were hungry after all, and you wanted something warm to soothe your throat, but just the idea of going all the way down and doing all of that at the moment in your state was tiring.
but, you had taken care of yourself for the past two days like this. what was another?
you opened your eyes, pulled yourself up with a groan, swung your legs over the edge of the bed to slip on your slippers, slipped on the closest sweater and slowly padded your way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall for balance as your headache and sick haze had you dizzy and unsteady on your feet.
you washed up without much of a hitch, and when you exited the bathroom, you thought you heard a door close.
huh?
you thought it might be your mind playing tricks on you. after all, you were at home by yourself and weren't expecting anyone (even if you yearned for someone, the stray thought of him being here leaving you as soon as it came), and you couldn't think of anyone that would stop by on a random wednesday who also happened to have a key to your place.
you shook your head, pocketing your phone as you padded down the way towards the living room, pausing at the faint sound of the television being on- had you left it on?- before proceeding towards the kitchen.
you froze at the sound of light humming coming from your kitchen, feet subconsciously carrying your slightly swaying body closer at the pleasant smell of food wafting towards your nose, completely disregarding a certain bag laying at the end of the empty sofa.
your footsteps must've been heavier than you thought because before you could fully enter the kitchen, the person in question turned around, staring straight at you, spatula in his hand and smile stretching across his face.
"morning, sleepyhead."
you tilted your head.
"caleb?" you whispered.
"surprised?"
you took a few steps closer, heart pounding with excitement but managing to keep your distance due to your illness.
"what are you-"
"hey."
his playful smile quickly morphs into a look of concern as he studies your face, noticing your shallow breaths, quiet voice and slightly-swaying body.
"pipsqueak, are you sick?"
you jolt, looking off to the side.
"not really, its just—"
you startle at his free hand brushing your bangs from your head and resting on your forehead.
"hey! i don't have a fever, i'm fine—"
"your voice is mostly gone," he deadpans.
"that's—"
"how long have you been sick??" his look is full of concern, voice laced with worry.
"just the past two days.."
"two days? and you didn't think to tell me?"
"it was just a sore throat at first!"
"and you're telling me this is still just that?"
before you can answer you're interrupted, bringing up your sleeved arm up to cover the lower half of your face to sneeze twice into it before sniffling.
you put your sleeved arm down and sigh.
"bless you," he says, taking a once over if your state before placing a hand on your lower back.
"here, i made you breakfast, just- sit down, i'll get you everything."
"that's okay, i wanted to—"
"i have water ready for tea if that's what you're after, just sit down, i'll bring it to you."
he says it in a way that almost feels like he's scolding you, and you can't help but to obey and trudge over to the closest seat at the dining table, secretly grateful since your head was hurting more now.
you momentarily rest your head on the cool surface, missing the frown that adorns caleb's face at seeing you in such a weakened state.
he knew how prideful you were when it came to your wellbeing, and he also knew how, for as little as it happened, sick you got when you did succumb to illness.
luckily, from a surface level it didn't look too bad, and the duration wasn't anywhere near severe-level yet. he was sure it was something plenty of rest and medicine would help with.
which is when he vowed, while filling your plate and pouring the steaming water into your favorite mug with a green tea bag resting inside, that he would be the one to nurse you back to health himself.
just like he used to.
-
"that's way too many, caleb!"
"i'm not letting you leave until you take em' all."
"is this really necessary??"
"lingering sore throat, mild fever, headache, stuffy and runny nose, sneezing, dry cough. did i miss anything?"
"no.."
"then yes, this is all necessary. it's not even that much!"
"caleb, there's five different pills sitting in front of me. i am not swallowing all of that!"
"haven't you swallowed more than just this before?"
"caleb!"
you smack his arm and he lets out a hearty laugh— one that you're grateful to see (despite it being at your expense), given he's mostly been overcome with concern— before looking over the medicines again.
"fine, fine, here."
one hand drags an orange pill away towards him.
"how about now?"
you deadpan.
"you're joking, right?" you sniffle.
"that's the best i can do, pipsqueak. now hurry up and take them."
you let out a groan, but reach for the largest pill first.
"do i really—"
"yes," he crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "i won't say it again."
you sigh, taking a small sip of tea before slipping the pill between your lips, tipping your head back before taking multiple large gulps of your tea to help its descent.
caleb nods, uncurling his hands and reaching for his utensil to grab some rice.
"good girl, now eat some more and take the rest," he instructs, shoving the rice into his mouth.
you're about to speak but are interrupted by a small sneeze.
"bless you."
you pout at him.
he points to your plate with his chopsticks.
"eat."
"you're lucky your food is so good..." you trail off, shoveling some eggs into your mouth, delight quickly filling you at the flavor of such a simple food item.
the cycle repeats: caleb watching you take sips of your tea and shoveling small bites of food into your mouth before pushing the next pill towards you until they're all gone.
in no time at all, both of your plates are empty. he takes yours from in front of you as you sip on the remainder of your tea, nodding when he asks if you're finished before taking them away to the sink.
you watch as he rolls up his sleeves and makes quick work to wash the plates, utensils, and the kitchenware he'd used, mesmerized by the familiar movements but willing to watch again and again all the same.
once he was finished and the dishes were properly put away, he dries his hands, walking back over to you and feeling your forehead again.
"hmm.. not too warm. how are you feeling right now? are you cold?"
you nod your head, and he gently pats the top of it. you close your eyes in response, the gesture soothing to you.
he grins.
always so cute...
"we should get you back to bed," he murmurs, bending down to your level. "want gege to carry you?"
you crack your eyes open and shake your head, prompting him to tilt his in question.
"i don't want you tripping on the way to your room if you're still dizzy, pipsqueak—"
"i don't wanna go to my room," you cut him off.
"can't i rest near you?" you peer up at him, hope filled in your droopy eyes, and something about that hits him.
you'd been on your own feeling like crap the past two days (now onto the third) and, knowing you, haven't been taking proper care of yourself, prompting the sickness to become what it is now.
no one could guarantee that you'd been eating properly, taking the proper medicine and on time, and most of all, not trying to work while in this state.
his heart feels heavy at the thought, but at his prolonged silence and hard stare, you shift your gaze behind him, embarrassed, and speak up again.
"or— i've already caused you enough trouble, right? this is supposed to be your time off and i've worried you enough... so i'll go back to my room! i wouldn't want to get you si—"
"no, no, no," he quickly cuts you off, swiftly shaking his head before grabbing onto your shoulders.
"pipsqueak, when have i ever denied you of your wishes?"
you sniffle. he did have a point...
"and besides, it's my job to worry about you, ya know?"
"so come on, let me carry you to the couch, yeah? we can put on whatever you like until you fall asleep."
you smile, ever so grateful at how caleb loved to spoil you.
you move to stand up and barely feel your feet hit the ground for half a second before you're easily scooped into caleb's arms, laughing at the sudden gesture before he walks towards the living room with you.
"caleb! i could've—"
"nope, you really couldn't have. i saw the way you trudged through the kitchen earlier, pipsqueak. you looked like you'd fall over if i so much as blew on you."
you look away, small pout adorning your lips, sniffling again.
"s' not my fault... don't even know how i got sick this time."
"maybe cause you missed me so much?
"yeah, maybe."
his heart throbs at your honesty, plopping down on the couch with you before smiling.
"so i guess this means i've got the better immune system, huh?"
"ugh, i knew you'd bring that up..."
he chuckles, letting you adjust in his hold as you use his lap as a pillow.
"whaddya wanna watch, pipsqueak?"
"dunno," you yawn. "just see what's on right now."
you watch as he looks around for the remote, pointing at it being just out of reach on the coffee table. you're about to offer to grab it before you see the strings of his evol grip onto it, bringing it into his hand before he catches it with ease and begins flipping through the channels.
"cheater," you tease quietly, letting out a small laugh at his use of his evol.
"hm?" he catches your words, humming thoughtfully in response, eyes glued to the television.
"you say that, but i remember a certain hunter practically crying under my evol while begging me to—"
"c-caleb!"
he laughs at the way you try to swat at him as you're laying down, settling for a small thwap! on his thigh instead.
"sorry, sorry," he says nonchalantly, loving how easily riled up he could get you at the mention your bedroom activities.
"here," he says, free hand finding its way to your head, softly massaging at your scalp.
"this a good enough apology?" he asks, only earning pleased mewls from you in response.
he smiles fondly in response, pleased at your little noises and the way you nuzzle into him further, resembling a satisfied cat that just filled its belly and was ready for its afternoon nap.
he eventually lands on a channel with a classic favorite movie for the both of you, setting the remote down and using his now-free hand to rub soothing circles into your back.
"you know, wearing my clothes while you're sick is a little selfish, don't you think?"
"s' warm," you mumble, slowly being lulled to sleep by his ministrations.
"and comfy. smells like you..."
even though he teased you, he always felt his heart grow fuller at the sight of you in his clothes, and he felt some amount of pride that it was the first thing you'd reached for even in your current state.
"yeah? i guess i can forgive you," he whispers, evol reaching for the nearest blanket to drape it over your lower half.
in the edges of slumber, you can feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, but you don't have the energy to reprimand him for doing such a thing and risk himself getting sick.
he sits back up, watching you fondly as he continues his comforting ministrations.
"get well soon, okay? ill be right here when you wake up."
even after he was sure you were sleeping, he continued his gentle caresses, comforted by the fact that you were there with him, and that he could keep a close eye on you.
-
extra:
half-paying attention to the movie on screen, he was already planning a soup to make you when his phone buzzed beside him.
it was a message from a friend of his.
wanna grab a bite later? my treat! some others will be joining too.
grateful for the offer, he messaged back quickly.
can't, playing nurse for my cute girlfriend tonight~
aw, next time, then!
he placed his phone back down, looking back at you and brushing stray hair out of your face as he thought back to your words.
"can't i rest near you?"
you'd looked so helpless, almost like you were expecting him to refuse you and make you rest by yourself, but eyes holding a lingering hope anyway as they peered into his soul.
his heart is full, his eyes are full of mirth, lips curling lovingly.
silly girl...
there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, right beside you—
whether you were ill or perfectly healthy.
always.
and he would make sure you never felt the burden of illness by yourself so long as he could help it.
-
a/n: i'm sick and couldn't help but imagine the l&ds men taking care of me ,and namely imagined caleb nursing me back to health so here we are. caleb come home!
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace fanfic#lnds caleb#lads caleb#l&ds caleb#caleb x reader#caleb x you#xia yizhou#love and deepspace caleb x reader#lnds caleb x reader#lads caleb x reader#love and deepspace fluff#lads x reader#love and deepspace fic#lads fanfic
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The Other Woman - Part 2
A/N: I'm blown away by the support you guys have given me with this part. I want to thank everyone who commented on the first post and gave me feedback! I'm always happy to recieve constructive critisim to make my work better for you all. This part 2 is a little different from how I usually handle part twos, so I hope you guys enjoy!
Link to PT 1
Your eyes itched as you dragged them open the next morning. The tears you shed last night had completely exhausted you by the time you got back to your room in the Palace, you had just flopped into bed without changing, skirts covered in melted icing.
A part of you was glad for it, as you had something to distract yourself from the soreness of heart break in your chest. You had no idea what you were going to do when you headed to court. The King’s personal guard would be there, and as far as you were aware, he hadn’t seen you the previous night.
Which means to him, nothing had gone wrong between the two of you.
You weren’t sure what to do knowing that. You could: A) Pretend nothing is wrong, carry on with this affair like you’d never seen what you had, or B) End things with the Orc and live with the guilt of what you did for the rest of your life.
Option A was just too difficult for you to do. You couldn’t bare the thought of doing something so heartless to that lovely Orc lady who worked in the kitchens. She was too kind to you, and always willing to lend a shoulder when you needed it… She would be a great mother.
So, it looks like option B is the only way to go.
As you finished remaking your bed, a shaky sigh escaped you as you leaned against your mattress, trying to steady yourself to face the day.
Leaving your quarters, you walked through the halls with your head in the clouds, thinking about how exactly you were supposed to end this affair. Would the King’s guard be angry? Upset?
After stewing on it, a wave of indignity washed over you. Really, none of this is your fault, it’s not like you were aware of his marriage. So, why should you be the one to break it off?
Of course, the last thing you wanted was to stay with the Orc, but if anything, he should be the one ending things with you! He was the one who chose to lie to you and hurt you in that way.
But how would you send that message to him? It’s not like you could just tell him what you saw. He might try to convince you to stay with him and you would not be persuaded into doing such a thing.
… Maybe, if you ignored him, he’d get the message and just leave you alone? Then that way, he’d know that you were angry with him and then, he would have no choice but to apologise to you. He’s not a stupid Orc, he should realise sooner or later what you were upset with him about.
But then, how do you regain your dignity as a Lady?
You chewed your lip as you greeted the Queen, apologised for your lateness and then followed her, alongside the other ladies in waiting to the throne room.
Thinking about this anymore would have to wait. You had a job to do as the Queens lady in waiting.
Their excited whispers brought you back down to Earth.
“Do you think that he’s handsome?”
“I don’t know, have you ever seen a forest dweller before?”
“Well no, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not good looking!”
“(Y/N) what do you think?”
“Hm?” You looked over your shoulder at the others. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve really been all over the place this week haven’t you?” One of the ladies said, “you know we’ve been preparing for the Forest Fae? Well, the Lord of the Forest Fae, is apparently, devilishly handsome. And, he’s not married or in any other kind of commitment with a woman or man!”
Another one of the ladies giggled, “do you think he’s come here looking for someone to marry?”
“Unlikely.” The third lady said, dismissively. “Men of any species love to flounder, even when they’re married. Why make their promiscuity more complicated than it has to be? You agree with me, don’t you (Y/N)?”
You didn’t answer. Due to recent experience, you had no interest in trying to romance a Fae Lord, there was no point in trying to if he was so easily led astray. “All men seemed to be like that.” You said, callously. “Even if he is loyal to those he sleeps with, I’m not looking to marry a Fae Lord.”
“Oh come on (Y/N), don’t pretend you’re not even slightly interested!”
“Ladies,” The Queen shushed and all the other women fell silent. “Gossip is unbecoming of all of you. If any of you wish to become involved with the Lord, I’ve heard he’s not one for those who spread rumours.”
Upon reaching the throne room, all the chattering of the ladies had fallen silent.
The doors to the impressive room opened, the Queen, you and the other ladies in waiting taking their respective places next to their mistress as they waited for the Fae Lord to make his entrance.
Sunlight caught the Queen’s glittering necklace, making you look around in surprise. And infuriatingly, you caught the King’s Guard’s eye. He smiled at you, eyes kind and wide like he was expecting you to return it.
Instead, you whipped your head away from him and locked on the throne room door. Other courtiers bustled around the room, discussing whatever was on the nobles minds at that moment in time.
For now, you would just have to stick to your plan of ignoring him. What else could you do until you could think of something more suitable for vengeance?
Soon, the doors to the throne room opened and the whole room fell silent.
The first few Fae glided in like they were sliding on ice, their ethereal beauty suffocating and snuffing out any other attractive person in the room. There were eight of them, four entering from opposite sides of the doors, who twirled in what looked to be spider web like dresses, their skirts sparkling in the light as they came to a stop, their long blonde hair falling down their backs with an eery gracefulness.
One of the ladies next to you mumbled something about how the Fae were so lucky, but you were so focused on not looking around at the Orc standing beside the King, that you couldn’t hear what the rest of her sentence was about.
After the graceful – and attention stealing – dance, a Fae man, taller than the others you’d seen so far, graced the courts prescence.
His hair was so white you might have thought that he was an old man, if not for his smooth skin untouched by aging. His eyes were deep pools of black that threatened to suck you in and never let you go, while his smile was kind and serene.
The Fae Lord came to a stop a few feet away from the thrones, and bowed his head. “Your Majestys, it is so wonderful to see you all again. I’m so pleased that I could finally make this trip like my father before me.”
“And we are pleased to have you, my Lord.” The King returned. “As it’s your first time staying here at the Palace, we’ve prepared a little celebration in honour of your new position…”
As the King droned on about how he hopes that this will be the new beginning of a fruitful alliance between humans and Fae, yada-ya, a chill went down your spine.
While the King’s announcement had been going in one ear and out the other, you brought yourself back into the room and carefully searched for the source of your discomfort… only to find the Fae Lord, looking directly at you.
You stood a little taller, returning his gaze in an attempt to be polite. When you gave him a polite inclination of the head, his smile widened as the King finished his speech.
“And so, we will have this little ball to welcome you and hope that your stay will be as comfortable as possible.”
“Yes,” the Fae Lord said, airily. “I’m sure it will be.” He turned to look back at the King and inclined his head once again. “I appreciate that the ball isn’t until tonight, and since this is your court, I’d like to ask if I can be a little forward, your Majesty?”
The King frowned, but nodded his head.
“You see, I couldn’t help but notice that lovely lady standing over there,” the Fae Lord pointed at you, “and was wondering if it would be too much for me to ask her for her first dance tonight?”
Your eyes widened.
The other ladies beside you, nudged you in the ribs. “So it was you he was looking at! I was wondering why his eyes were wandering, I thought he was just bored!”
Face burning, your eyes darted to the Queen and in the process, caught sight of the Orcs face.
His nose was scrunched up as he snarled, “awfully cocky, aren’t you?”
The Fae Lord ignored the Orc as he looked at you once again, hands behind his back.
When you looked at the Queen, she smiled at you and jerked her head to the Fae. “Well? You don’t have to ask me for permission, Lady (Y/N).”
All eyes on you, you bit your lip and sucked in a deep breath. Most of all, you could feel the Orc’s eyes baring into the side of your skull, like he was trying to make you face him, daring you to accept the Lord’s offer.
But the image you saw the previous night, flashed through your mind.
Spite leading you, you answered the Fae Lord. “I’ll have my first dance with you, my Lord.” You said, firmly.
The Fae bowed his head to you, “I look forward to it, my Lady.” And with that, he said his goodbyes to the King and Queen before the entire court was dismissed.
The rest of the day went by with a bubbly air, all the ladies sneaking glances and smiles at you as you went about your day.
You, yourself, could hardly believe that you had accepted the dance. It was true, you weren’t interested in romancing this Fae Lord in the slightest… but if it meant that you could piss off the King’s Guard, then you would gladly accept anything else that the Fae Lord had to offer.
After all, it’s not like the Orc could jump in and say that you couldn’t do something, people would get suspicious then.
As soon as the Queen had sent the ladies in waiting to go and prepare for the ball later in the afternoon, they all pounced on you.
“I can’t believe it!” One of them said as they took you by the wrist. “He really asked you, in front of the whole court!”
“It’s just a dance,” you told them all as you made your way back to your apartments. And that was all it would probably be, you told yourself. “It was just formality that I accept him. It would have been an awful start to his stay if I had told him no.”
“But even so, to ask you in front of the entire court!” Another one of the ladies squawked. “He must really like you.”
“We haven’t even formally met.” You said.
“Oh can’t you just be romantic for one minute?!” The first Lady huffed. “I’m imagining a star-crossed lovers romance, where he dramatically proposes to you just before he’s about to leave, flying through the corridors, abandoning his carriage in search of you-”
“Alright.” You said, firmly. “I get it. Well you can have your fantasies all you like.” Once you reached your apartments, you yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind you, locking the other ladies outside.
Sliding to the floor, you pulled your knees to your chest and squeezed. When you’d first started seeing the Orc, all you did was fantasize like that. Dream of running away with him and sharing all sorts of romantic ventures together.
But any kind of desire for that experience had left the moment you saw his wife.
You didn’t want to colour all men with the same brush, but a betrayal like the Orcs, isn’t something that you can just shake off.
And although it gave you the slightest bit of pleasure to know that the Orc was angry with the Fae, you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in the romance of it all. He may be the exact same as the King’s Guard for all you knew.
And… you didn’t want to end up hurt again.
Once evening finally did come around and you joined with the other ladies in waiting – who were all too eager to have you be the leader of the group – the ballroom was full of chatter, people drinking and watching couples dance in the centre of the room.
“Oh, he’s not here yet?” Frowned a lady beside you, “don’t worry, he’ll turn up soon I’m sure, most of the other Fae are here. You should sit by the entrance that way, he’ll see you as soon as he enters.”
The suggestion made you want to roll your eyes. While you were going to dance with this Fae, you didn’t want to be seen as desperate for company. Taking a glass of wine from a passing waiter, you decided to hover to the side of the room.
As you sipped on the delicate glass, your eyes scanned the room where you spied the Queen dancing with the King, the other ladies mingling and chatting animatedly with other guests.
You caught yourself glancing at the entrance to the doors a lot. Keeping an eye out for the Fae Lord. You had to keep internally slapping yourself. This was just a means of getting back at the King’s guard.
And perhaps it was because the King’s guard was standing opposite the room, within perfect line of sight of keeping an eye on you that you were eager for the Fae Lord to arrive.
The Orc’s eyes glazed over the room, mostly following the King, but occasionally, he found you.
Anger boiled in your veins as you kept your eyes firmly fixed on the doors to the ballroom.
Even now, the Orc was good at keeping his affection for you a secret.
A part of you wanted to throw the wine glass in your hand at him, just to keep him on edge.
But, before you could put your thoughts into practice, gasps echoed around the room, drawing your attention to the ballroom doors.
The crowd parted as the Fae Lord’s eyes searched the room and found you. His eyes lit up at the sight of you and he passed through the crowd of people, and held a hand out to you. “There you are,” he said, smiling. “What are you doing hiding in the shadows over here? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be hidden away like this.”
You shook your head as he took a wine glass from a waiter and sipped from it, “do you mind if I have a drink before we dance?”
“No, not at all my Lord.” You replied.
Over his shoulder, you chanced a glance at the Orc, whose eyes were now locked onto you and the Lord.
The Fae spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your name first before asking for your dance, my Lady…?”
“(Y/N).” You answered smiling. “Thank you, for asking me for this dance.” You held your hand out to him, which he took and pressed a kiss onto your knuckles. A pleasant chill ran up your arm.
The Fae Lord bowed his head as he took another sip from his glass. “It’s an honour that you accepted. I should be thanking you for not humiliating me in front of all those courtiers.”
You chuckled at that. “I wouldn’t have done that to you, that would’ve been cruel, even if you were being very forward.”
“I just don’t have a care for all of these silly procedures,” the Fae said, waving his free hand around the ballroom. “There’s no point in any of it, I’d have preferred that the King and I just talk about what I’m here for and then to just leave, you know. But, a simple ball isn’t so bad.”
“So, you’d say you’re a simple man?” You asked.
“Completely.” The Fae finished his drink and you rushed to do the same too.
“My Lady, please, don’t do that on my account, we have the whole evening to dance, you can take your time.” He pulled the glass by the stem away from your lips.
You frowned, holding your free hand up to cover your mouth. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting, it would be rude of me to do that.”
With a sly wink, the Fae Lord said in a low whisper, “if I didn’t want to be kept waiting by you, I wouldn’t have asked for your first dance.”
You gave him a suspicious look, to which the Lord replied, “I want to get to know you, (Y/N).”
“Why?” You asked, shortly. “We’ve never even met before.”
The Fae Lord didn’t flinch at your tone. Instead, he searched your eyes. “Because, it seemed as though you were in need of some cheering up.” He said, simply. “And I don’t like seeing people upset.”
With a gentle smile, he patted your shoulder. “Don’t feel like you have to tell me what’s going on right now, after all, we did just meet each other. But whenever you’re ready, I’m here if you want to talk.”
You stared at him. Was he being serious? As you looked into his eyes you could sense no malice, no playfulness or manipulation in his face… Maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to give this Fae a chance?
Once you’d finished your drink the pair of you took to the dance floor.
And for the next few days, he always made a point of talking to you. At first, it was mundane things, how did you sleep? Did you eat breakfast yet? Before it became more involved questions, like what your family did for business, asked about your other ladies in waiting and if they were doing well.
And gradually, you started to look forward to your little chats and began to ask about him and his life. It turned out he was an only child and took the Lordship after his father had died of some kind of tree associated illness.
He was funny, had a quick wit and was fond of lymerics. He liked the smell of morning dew on grass and the way the forest smelt after a rain storm. Oh, and he enjoyed rum cake.
Your stomach bubbled with excitement every morning now at the prospect of seeing him around the Palace and speaking to him in the evening, the Orc barely even crossed your mind anymore.
Except for when you were on your way to your apartments one time, and the Orc ambushed you from a dark corner of the halls.
“What is with you?” He snarled at you. “You’re completely ignoring me in favour of that pretty Fae man.”
You didn’t spare the Orc a glance and kept walking. “He’s nice to me.” You shrugged, “I can’t talk to other men?”
“It’s not just talking to other men!” The Orc hissed. “You’ve been ignoring me and the gifts I leave you, along with letters as well! Whenever I enter your rooms to give you something else, the other gift is always left unopened!”
He grabbed you by the wrist, forcing you to stop in your tracks. He tightened his grip, “did I do something wrong?” He asked you. “Tell me if I have, I will do what I have to do make up for it.”
Anger flared like a fire stoked with gunpowder. You wanted to yell at him, to shout at him that he should go back to his wife, confess that he was an adulterer and that he should be begging for her forgiveness.
But for some reason, you couldn’t let that anger escape. It refused to climb up and out of your throat. You shook your hand free of his grip. “You really want to fix it?” you hissed. “You can leave me alone. Pretend that this never happened. Take your hush gifts and give them to the person who really deserves them!”
And with that, you stormed off to your apartments.
Once you were inside the drawing room, you let out a groan of frustration. Of course, going off with the Fae Lord was definitely one way of getting revenge… but it didn’t feel like it was enough.
You still felt awful for the Orc lady, who was pregnant with that adulterers baby. There had to be something else you could do… some other way of getting back at him and really sticking it to the King’s guard.
And then, an idea came to you. It was a risk to ask, sure… but, the Fae Lord really seemed genuinely interested in you. And he did say himself that he would be open to listening to you if you had any problems. Who knows? Maybe he would be up for your revenge too.
So, that night you arranged a private dinner for the two of you, away from court to tell him what was really going on.
He was perplexed by your request to meet him in a place away from the public eye, but never the less accepted and arrived to dinner with that same pleasant smile he always gave you.
“What’s all this about?” He had asked as you finished setting the table.
You intertwined your fingers together and clasped them in front of you, as if you were about to start praying.
“… Do you remember when you told me that you could sense a sadness within me?” You asked. And over dinner, you told him everything. The secretive meetings, the presents. As you told your sombre tale, you realised how badly it all truly sounded.
Of course, the affair was awful enough on it’s own… but the fact that the Fae Lord had been unwittingly helping you in your payback, would come across as you using him.
And as you finished with the climax of your story, the Fae Lord’s fists clenched tighter around his cutlery. His jaw tightened.
You bit your lip, wanting to explain yourself. “I have to say that your asking me to dance in front of the whole court was what inspired me to continue on with this plan of revenge. I have truly enjoyed spending time with you and didn’t mean to use you my Lord…”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” The Fae spat. “It’s an awful thing for him to do to you, it’s no wonder he was so against us dancing and being seen together in the first place. I had half a mind to complain to the King about his behaviour.”
He knocked the butt of his fork on the table as the Lord looked around your drawing room, like there would be some kind of explanation somewhere. “How dare he use someone like that to get his own rocks off!” The Fae Lord hissed. “And especially you. You should have told me sooner, this isn’t something that you should have to deal with alone!
“No, do you know what?” The Fae pointed at you, “don’t do anything else until I say so, alright? We’re going to get this bastard man-whore… or should it be Orc-whore?” He gave you smug smile as you laughed. “For this plan to work,” he continued, “I’ll need to ask permission from someone before I go through with it.”
You frowned. “Ask permission for what?”
The Fae Lord gave another sly grin, “It’s a surprise.” His smile faded as he reached out across the table with a free hand and took yours in his, “I’ve grown very fond of you, (Y/N) and I hope that you have of me too, so with that in mind, please trust me, okay?”
He was right, you had grown fond of him and his presence. It would be strange for him to not be around in court any more. Your heart sunk in your chest at the realisation that he wouldn’t be around for much longer.
You nodded. Lowering your head, you stared at your empty plate and sighed. “… I feel really silly for thinking that he could have actually liked me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The Fae Lord asked, frowning. “I like you.”
You sighed. “I mean honestly liked me. Not just used me as a means to have an affair… I thought that we would get married one day and…” You gripped your skirts.
For a moment, the Fae stayed silent. “You don’t deserve to be loved by trash like him.” He said, firmly. He gave another squeeze of your hand. “And we’ll make sure he knows it. So don’t put yourself down, alright? It’s not you who’s in the wrong, it’s him.”
And once again, he was right. You sniffed. It made you feel a lot better to hear someone say it out loud, and to talk to someone about this affair. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest.
Weeks went by and everything continued on as it had been before. The Fae Lord acted no differently than before your dinner together and the King’s guard grew more and more furious each time he saw you and the Fae together.
He had stopped bothering you since you’d told him to leave you alone… but there was still that foreboding feeling that the Orc was still looking for ways to win back your approval, proved by his scathing looks of the Fae Lord when you and he were together.
And with that feeling hovering in the air at court, you began to realise how stupid you must have been, to believe that you were only worthy of such a deceitful kind of love. You deserved so much more, wanted so much more.
The strangest part about knowing that, was that you felt it might come true very soon. You didn’t know how you could tell, you just knew it.
You began to worry as the final days of the Fae Lord’s stay drew near. There still had been no update on the Lord’s revenge plan and when you asked him about it, he’d always reassured you and given your hands a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just making the final preparations, alright? Don’t worry about a thing, I’ve got this.”
It was all too soon that the final week of his stay around. Everyone in the Palace was suddenly mournful that the Fae Lord and his company would be departing.
The Monday of the week the Lord was going to leave, you awoke to find a gift box. It was carved of wood, the bark of the tree still on it’s exterior and top, with a mossy bow tying it shut.
And as you opened it up, you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight you saw. In a bed of moss, was a necklace made of spider web, droplets of water beads strewn around it delicately. Underneath it, was a note:
I would like to give you a surprise gift every day leading up to the final day before I leave. I hope that if you appreciate this gift, you’ll wear it today and the others that are to come.
Others to come? Was this part of the revenge plan that the Lord had cooked up?
Without a second thought, you put on the gift and when you entered the Queen’s apartments that morning, all the of other ladies practically screamed with excitement for you.
Even the Queen – who never normally allowed herself to be emotional – got involved with her ladies delighted chattering.
The next morning, it was a bracelet made of hardened tree sap – the note detailed that if you licked it, it would make for a good snack – the morning after that, a broach made of butterfly wings.
And every day you wore them, eventually looking more and more like a forest Fae than a human noblewoman.
When the day finally came of the Fae Lord’s departure, you found that there was no gift that morning. Although strange, it didn’t surprise you.
He was leaving today after all, perhaps he just didn’t have time to leave one final gift.
With a heavy heart, you made your bed, adorned yourself with all the gifts you had received that week, and set off to go to court to wish the Fae Lord a good journey home.
Following the Queen to the throne room, the rest of the ladies in waiting seemed to be uncharacteristically quiet. When you gave them strange looks, they all pursed their lips or looked away from you, as if they were trying to hide something from you.
Even the Queen refused to look at you. Although you were sure that you caught a small smile on her lips whenever you all turned a corner.
When you entered the throne room, it was packed with courtiers, all chattering as usual. But there was something different in the air. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was certainly something going on without your knowing.
Once you had taken your place beside the Queen, the doors to the throne room opened and in stepped the Fae Lord with his company.
You had hoped that he would make time for a private goodbye, or at least tell you how his plans for revenge had been progressing.
The whole time you had seen him in court or in other places in the Palace, it seemed as though he was doing nothing to try and help you with your revenge plan.
A part of you wanted to be angry with him for being so slacked about it.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to be. At the end of the day, you’d been able to get back at the Orc in some way; throughout the whole week of you wearing the gifts that the Fae Lord had been giving you, the King’s guard said nothing to you, apart from giving you foul glares from across the room whenever he saw you.
“Your Majesty's, I must thank you for your hospitality these past weeks, it has been nothing but delightful.” The Fae Lord announced.
As soon as the sentence had left his lips, the whole court went silent, hanging onto his every word.
“But, if you do not mind, your Majesty,” he looked at the Queen, “I would like to steal one of your ladies in waiting.”
You furrowed your eyebrows at him as the Queen smiled at him. “But of course, it’s been difficult to ignore that you certainly have a favourite among my girls.” She looked at you and tilted her head. “Go on, (Y/N).”
Your head darted between the two. Again, you caught the Orcs eye, who gave you a warning look of carefully concealed fury.
At that, you straightened your back and headed over to the Fae Lord. Once you had come before him, he held his hand out to you.
You took it. Sandwiching your hand between his, he looked you in the eye. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks,” he said, “but they’ve been some of the best weeks of my life. You’re funny and smart,” he lowered his voice. “Vengeful.”
Rolling your eyes with a smile, he continued, “but most of all, you make me happy. So, I ask that you come back to the forest with me and be my wife?”
Your jaw dropped and you clasped your hands to your mouth. “You… you can’t be serious…”
The Fae Lord let an abashed smile come over him. “I am… so, if you’ll have me as a husband…” He pulled a ring, made of wood from his pocket, a white, misted crystal adorned the top of the ring. “This is the final gift… I’m sorry that there wasn’t one for you to wake up to this morning, but I felt you may appreciate it more if I gave it to you in front of everyone.” He gave you a knowing look.
You allowed a devious grin to broaden your lips.
An aww escaped the crowd, followed by a few claps. But before you could give your reply, a shout rang out.
“No!” You and the Fae Lord whipped around to find the King’s guard, abandoning his post. “No, this is completely inappropriate!”
The Fae Lord pushed you behind him, as the Orc towered over the pair of you. He jabbed a thick green finger at the Fae, “what makes you think you can just wander in here and take one of the ladies in waiting?!”
“Actually,” the Fae returned, plainly. “Her father gave me permission. I asked him last night before coming here… Unlike some people here, I’m actually upfront with future family.”
Your eyes widened as the court gasped and muttering began to rise from the onlookers.
You gripped the Fae’s arm and squeezed it. “No, please don’t. You’ve done enough.”
He looked at you, then back at the Orc. “Well, it’s all down to (Y/N)s decision anyway.” The Fae Lord raised an eyebrow and smirked. “After all, it’s not like you have any interest in her, is it?”
The King’s guard scowled at the Fae. But he said nothing.
“Come back here, now!” The King snapped from his throne. “Don’t ruin this moment for the Lady (Y/N) any more than you have!”
“But you can’t possibly allow this!” The Orc turned to face the Monarchs.
“I just did.” The King glared at his guard. He looked at you with kind eyes as he went on, “well, what is your answer?”
Looking directly at the Orc, you took the ring from the Fae Lord and slid the ring on your finger as slowly as possible.
The Fae Lord grinned and pulled you into a tight hug as the court let out an applause.
Wishing the court goodbye, you and the Fae Lord turned and left, without even giving a second glance to the Orc, who was left in the centre of the room, stunned.
“Now this, was a great revenge plan.” You whispered as the pair of you walked down the corridors.
You bit your lip, “I… I was worried that this was just going to be some kind of holiday fling for you.”
The Fae Lord stopped in his tracks, taking your hand. “My darling, I could never, do that to you.”
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hiii
so this might me dirty but hear me out
It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna
so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but
stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)
oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man
have an amazing dayy
a parker thing
ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist
w/c: ?
warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing
a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3
you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.
ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.
tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.
you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.
"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."
"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."
friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.
"thanks, fri."
you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.
"huh."
you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.
"weird."
first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.
you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.
"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."
peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.
"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."
"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"
peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.
"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."
"new features? like what?"
"you know the one i was telling you about..."
you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.
"go on, i’m listening."
peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.
"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."
"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."
you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.
"y/n? you okay?"
peter must have noticed you spacing out.
your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.
"horny."
peter's features form a smirk.
"i got you, baby."
he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.
peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.
"one sec, lemme get this off."
peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.
"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."
peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.
"stop teasing, parker."
"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"
something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.
"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."
peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.
"do it."
you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.
"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."
"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."
peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.
"what was that?"
you breathe out a low laugh.
"nothing."
you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.
"wanna feel you, y/n/n."
peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.
"wanna feel you too, pete."
you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.
he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.
you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.
"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."
"me neither."
he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.
"y/n..."
peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.
"i know."
you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.
peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.
"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."
peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.
"god, fuck."
he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.
"fuck, baby. woah."
you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.
"oh my god, pete. that was..."
"yeah."
peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.
"sorry."
he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.
"it's okay."
you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.
"aw, you tired?"
"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."
"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"
"sounds perfect."
peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.
"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."
peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.
"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."
"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."
"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."
you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.
"why does this keep happening?"
peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.
"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."
"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"
"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."
"oh. maybe it was someone else."
peter quirks a brow.
"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."
you turn to face peter.
"so why am i sticky?"
between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.
his spider powers.
"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."
"you don't mean... no."
if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.
"uh, yeah."
peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.
"we must share some dna."
"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"
"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."
"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"
"exactly."
peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.
"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"
"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."
"so what?"
"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."
you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.
"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."
you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.
"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"
"something like that. you're not mad?"
you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.
"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."
"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."
"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."
peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.
"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."
you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.
"mrs. parker, i like that."
(too lazy to use tags lmao)
#peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker imagine#mcu peter parker#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fic#tom holland au
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slytherin boy's headcons (them as ur bf <3)
theodore nott as your boyfriend :
• he’s the definition of quiet but observant; he notices every little thing about you, from your favorite snacks to how you fidget when nervous.
• doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s meaningful—his compliments feel rare and precious.
• surprisingly affectionate in private; he’ll always find excuses to brush his fingers against yours or pull you close when no one’s looking.
• reads a lot and will casually leave books he thinks you’d like in your bag or on your desk.
• fiercely protective but subtle about it—he’ll silently step in when someone’s bothering you or shoot a glare that makes them back off immediately.
• has a sarcastic sense of humor that comes out more as he gets comfortable with you; you’re one of the few people who ever see him smile.
• remembers everything you say, even the small things, and will surprise you by acting on it weeks later.
• not big on grand romantic gestures but makes up for it with small, thoughtful actions, like brewing your favorite tea or saving you a seat in class.
• loves stargazing; it’s one of the rare times he really opens up, sharing his thoughts and dreams while lying next to you under the stars.
• isn’t the best with words when expressing feelings but tries to write them down for you in short, heartfelt notes.
• values trust above all else; if you’re patient with him, he’ll let his walls down completely and be endlessly loyal.
• his love language is acts of service—he’ll carry your books, fix your broken quill, or help you study without you even asking.
• secretly adores when you wear something of his, like a sweater or scarf, and won’t say it outright but will be internally smug all day.
• has a soft, calming presence that makes you feel safe and at ease no matter what’s going on around you.
• he’s not perfect, sometimes retreating into himself when overwhelmed, but he’ll always come back to you, knowing you’re his anchor.
mattheo riddle as your boyfriend :
• the ultimate bad boy with a soft spot only for you; he’s tough around others but absolutely melts when it comes to you.
• constantly teases you but gets genuinely offended if you don’t fire back—he loves the banter.
• incredibly protective to the point where he’ll square up with anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.
• thrives on physical touch—his arm is always slung around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers intertwined with yours.
• has a devilish grin that he only uses to fluster you because he knows it works every single time.
• somehow knows exactly where you are at all times, and not in a creepy way—just always shows up when you need him.
• calls you ridiculous nicknames like “princess,” “trouble,” or “love,” depending on his mood.
• super possessive but not in a toxic way—he just loves reminding people that you’re his.
• absolutely hates when you’re upset with him and will go out of his way to apologize, even if it means swallowing his pride.
• smokes casually and offers you his jacket when it’s cold, the scent of him lingering on it for hours after.
• loves pulling you into trouble with him, whether it’s sneaking out after curfew or pranking someone, but always makes sure you’re safe.
• surprisingly intellectual—he can talk about dark magic theories for hours and gets a kick out of teaching you forbidden spells.
• his temper can flare up, especially when someone crosses you, but he always calms down when you’re around.
• absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes; he’ll smirk and say, “Looks better on you, anyway.”
• deeply loyal—once you have his heart, there’s no getting rid of him, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.
• loves late-night conversations, where he gets a little vulnerable and tells you about his past and his fears.
• has a soft side he rarely shows, but when he does, it’s for you—whether it’s stroking your hair when you’re stressed or mumbling “I love you” when he thinks you’re asleep.
• he’s chaos personified, but somehow, with you, he feels like he’s finally found a bit of peace.
lorenzo birkshire as your boyfriend:
• he’s the smooth talker who flirts like it’s second nature, but with you, it’s genuine—he means every word.
• loves to make you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to crack jokes, pull silly faces, or do over-the-top impressions just to see you smile.
• low-key a hopeless romantic; he’ll surprise you with little handwritten notes, flowers he “found,” or surprise dates in secret spots.
• absolutely loves PDA—he’s the type to kiss your cheek in front of everyone or hold your hand just to let people know you’re his.
• he’s fiercely loyal, and anyone who tries to mess with you instantly regrets it; he’ll defend you without hesitation.
• the type to whisper in your ear during class, making you both laugh quietly, even if it earns him a detention.
• incredibly charming but gets adorably flustered when you flirt back or catch him off guard.
• loves spoiling you in small ways—buying you your favorite sweets, carrying your bag, or sneaking you an extra butterbeer during Hogsmeade trips.
• surprisingly good at comforting you when you’re upset; he’ll listen, wrap you in a warm hug, and crack just the right joke to lighten the mood.
• lives for the banter between you two; he thinks it’s hilarious when you try to outwit him, even if you win.
• would give you his scarf or cloak without hesitation if you were cold and wouldn’t stop teasing you about looking “adorable” in it.
• the type to plan spontaneous adventures, dragging you out of bed to sneak around the castle or explore forbidden areas.
• he’s a mix of chaotic energy and soft affection, always knowing when to be playful and when to be serious.
• low-key brags about you to his friends but pretends he’s “too cool” to care when they tease him about how smitten he is.
• loves running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, especially when you’re sitting close or leaning against him.
• insists on being your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up before exams, Quidditch matches, or even small challenges.
• gets jealous easily but tries to play it off—he’s terrible at hiding it, though, and ends up pouting until you reassure him.
• he’s the kind of boyfriend who’s both your partner in crime and your safe place, balancing wild fun with genuine love.
draco malfoy as your boyfreind:
• starts off guarded, but once he lets his walls down, he’s completely devoted to you.
• the type to act all cool and aloof in public but secretly loves holding your hand or brushing his fingers against yours.
• buys you extravagant gifts, not because he’s trying to show off, but because it’s how he expresses his love—jewelry, rare books, or even something sentimental he knows you’ll cherish.
• incredibly protective; he’d go out of his way to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, whether that means intimidating someone who’s bothering you or walking you to every class.
• struggles to express his emotions verbally but makes up for it through his actions—he’ll always be there when you need him, no questions asked.
• low-key thrives on your praise; hearing you say you’re proud of him or appreciate him makes him feel on top of the world.
• gets jealous easily and tries to play it cool, but his little snarky comments give him away every time.
• loves spoiling you in subtle ways, like slipping your favorite dessert onto your plate at dinner or reserving the best spot in the library for you.
• softens dramatically when he’s with you; he goes from sharp sarcasm to quiet vulnerability in your presence.
• late-night talks are where he truly opens up, sharing his fears, insecurities, and dreams he’s too afraid to admit to anyone else.
• secretly loves when you mess with his perfectly styled hair, even though he’ll complain about it every time.
• will drape his scarf or coat around your shoulders if you’re cold, muttering something about how he “can’t have you freezing to death.”
• loves hearing you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to say something witty just to see you smile, even if it’s at his expense.
• incredibly attentive to your needs—he notices when you’re tired, stressed, or upset, and does everything he can to help.
• he’s not big on public displays of affection but will always find little ways to show you’re his, like resting his hand on your lower back or standing close enough for your shoulders to touch.
• gets flustered when you compliment him, especially if you call him handsome or clever—he’ll roll his eyes, but his pink cheeks give him away.
• he’s not perfect and sometimes lashes out when he’s stressed, but he’s quick to apologize and make it up to you.
• when he says he loves you, it’s rare but deeply meaningful—you can tell he means it with everything he has.
• despite his flaws, he’s fiercely loyal, endlessly protective, and wholly yours, doing everything he can to make you feel loved.
blaise zabini as your boyfriend:
• effortlessly smooth and confident, he doesn’t even need to try to charm you—it’s just who he is.
• the king of subtle but meaningful gestures, like holding doors open for you, pulling out your chair, or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowd.
• loves to spoil you, but in a classy, understated way—think fine chocolate, rare books, or spontaneous weekend getaways.
• very private about your relationship; he keeps most of his affection behind closed doors but isn’t shy about letting people know you’re his.
• gives the best advice; he’s incredibly perceptive and always knows the right thing to say when you’re stressed or upset.
• he’s not big on loud, over-the-top displays of affection, but his actions always show how much he cares—he’s the type to quietly take care of things before you even ask.
• loves watching you talk about something you’re passionate about; he’ll rest his chin in his hand and just admire you with a soft smile.
• has a wicked sense of humor and loves teasing you, but it’s always playful and never hurtful—he secretly loves when you tease him back.
• he’s the epitome of cool, calm, and collected, but you’re the only one who can fluster him when you catch him off guard with affection or a well-timed compliment.
• ridiculously good at remembering details about you, like your favorite drink, your childhood stories, or even the exact shade of your favorite lipstick.
• loves to keep you close—whether it’s casually draping an arm over your shoulder or pulling you into his lap when you’re alone together.
• fiercely protective but subtle about it; one look from him is enough to make anyone second-guess bothering you.
• will casually drop compliments about you in conversations with his friends, but if they tease him about being soft, he just smirks and doesn’t deny it.
• he’s a fantastic listener and always makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the room when you’re talking to him.
• takes immense pride in how you carry yourself and always reminds you of how incredible you are, even if you don’t see it yourself.
• adores dressing up for dates with you and insists on coordinating outfits so you both look effortlessly elegant together.
• late nights with him often involve deep conversations, a bottle of wine, and a lot of soft touches as he shares pieces of himself he doesn’t show anyone else.
• has a surprisingly tender side—he’ll hold you close when you’re feeling down, whispering reassurances that everything will be okay.
• he’s all about balance: the perfect mix of suave, playful, and deeply caring, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world.
#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys fluff#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin x reader#slytherin#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#theodore nott x reader#mattheo riddle#blaise zabini#lorenzo berkshire
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Viktor really meant the "in all timelines, in all possibilities" line BECAUSE IT'S OUR TIMELINE TOO! THEY EXISTED!
Please take a moment and let me introduce you to: Giacomo Leopardi and Antonio Ranieri's partnership.
Leopardi was an italian poet, author, philosopher and philologist. He is an important figure in Romantic literature (albeit, he did criticize the Romantic worldviews).
All throughout his life he suffered from a debilitating chronic illness (juvanile ankylosing spondylitis) that had him suffer horrendously from a young age, until it eventually took his life in 1837, when he was 39 years old.
He dedicated most of his life to studies, translating old tomes, writing poems and treaties diverting on humanity's degeneration from our glorious past to our suffering present. He exhorted modern folks to take action against the unjust present, aiming to a revolution of our pitiful condition.
In 1827 Leopardi meets Antonio Ranieri a young man that is described (verbatim) as a "very young and handsome in person and spirit".
Ranieri had been exiled from his city during his youth, because of his excessively liberal views in regards to politics.
The two become very close friends, but it's in 1830 that their "partnership" (literally, not making this up, Ranieri himself wrote a book about it if you care to check it out "Seven years of partnership with Giacomo Leopardi") starts. They move together from Firenze to Naples and Ranieri attends to Leopardi's every wish (noted that this man was a fanatic for sweets) paying with money from his own pocket.
Now, friendship at the time was different than what it is now, and they might’ve been very close friends, yes. But I'll give you some words from their letters and what Ranieri wrote down in his book and leave it to your judgment.
-----------------------------------------------------
Ranieri, Naples, 1833:
"I- left my own bed- used to sleep in a room that was not mine (scandalous at the time) to sleep by his side"
Leopardi, Florence, 1832-33, from when they got separated because Ranieri needed to tend to some family issues:
"My Ranieri, you will never abandon my side, nor will your love for me grow colder. I don't wish for you to sacrifice yourself for me. In fact, before anything else, I strongly wish for you to take care of yourself first: whatever you choose to do, you will do it so because we live for one another, or I know that I do for you; my last and only hope. Farewell, my soul. I keep you close to my heart, which in both possible and impossible occurrences, will forever be yours"
Leopardi, Florence, 1832-33, on someone making a joke out of Ranieri for staying by Leopardi's side:
" [...] Oh, my Ranieri! When will I get you back? I won't stop trambling until I'll recover this immeasurable love, until I know it's true. Farewell, my soul, with all my spirit's strength. Don't get bored of loving me"
And more:
"Ranieri of mine, I need not say that in every way you wish, I will be there with you (...). My resolution has been so for a great time now: that I will never be parted from you. Farewell"
In 1833, Ranieri sends a letter where he says he intends to set off to get Leopardi and go live together in Naples, to which Leopardi answers:
"My Ranieri, will this [letter] reach you in Naples still? I must warn you, I cannot live without you no longer, I'm overtaken by a morbid impatience to see you again, and that I am sure that if you will be late, I will die from the malencholy of not having you still. Farewell, Farewell"
Ranieri, on the landlady that took them in in Naples:
"She revealed this: that I had introduced a consumptive in the house: that, loving him so much as to stay up at night by his side, there could be no reason I could not do that as well in mine own house"
--
So now, take it as you will- because maybe I am way too much of a nerd about this stuff- but I can't read ANYTHING Leopardi and Ranieri related without seeing Viktor and Jayce. I will gladely add more in the future.
--
Addition! If you want to watch/read on them (but mostly Leopardi, which is a catch) I STRONGLY advice you:
Leopardi. Il poeta dell'infinito - I don't personally love it but if you want more on them, thats the place
Il giovane favoloso - AMAZING movie
Canti - by Leopardi, it is a collection of poems he wrote and I think it is absolutely useful to understand his marvelous mind and character
Sette anni di Sodalizio con Giacomo Leopardi - the one I mentioned before, written by Ranieri on his time with Leopardi
#jayvik#jayce talis#viktor#arcane#giacomo leopardi#antonio ranieri#glorious evolution#or more like#glorious human past#I swear to you the parallels between these two and those other two are SICKENING#hear me out#please#I need validation on this
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A Glorious Sunrise
There’ll be happiness. Paige makes sure of it.
Paige Bueckers x Reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.2k
Themes: angst with a happy ending, paige is flirty and i love her for it
A/N: hiii i've been MIA but i'm back and omg guys i lowkey kinda love this. this song has been my hyperfixation for the past two months and i've been dying to write a fic to happiness but i didn't want it to be paige-angst so this is what i came up with instead.
also i'm lowkey exposing myself with this fic, and i clearly need therapy sooo PLZ BE NICE
please enjoy and lemme know what you think ;)
~
A single tear slides down your cheek as you close the last box of your belongings, landing on the brown cardboard with a wet plop of harsh finality. You gaze around the room, which is now nearly empty, and a sob that you had been suppressing all day manages to break through your normally tough exterior.
Seven years of love and laughter gone just like that.
And now, here you were, dividing all of your shit into boxes and contemplating if this feeling was even worth the seven years in heaven.
The empty space where the bed once stood leaves a lump in your throat. Images of being pulled into a warm, strong chest every night bombard your consciousness, and you turn away, unable to stomach it any longer.
It was a simple story, really.
You and Jake were high school sweethearts, turned college sweethearts. He had taken you to prom and twirled you around in a sparkly, pink dress. He had taken your virginity, and you had imagined your entire life together with bright, starry eyes.
College was spent between your dorm rooms, crammed into twin beds and talking about kids and houses with white picket fences. You had moved in together after college, and the two of you were blissfully in love.
But last week, Jake had come home late at night with empty eyes and shaky hands, and he had quietly told you that he was done.
And in the blissfulness of being in love, the words did not even register for a moment.
You were still dancing when the music stopped. And the world went cold, the sunshine in your life suddenly burnt out like a candle that was blown out by a bitter wind. The smoke was engulfing your cold frame, curling around you in dark, taunting tendrils.
You shiver now, looking back on it all. Your sweatshirts were all packed already, and instinctively, you go to the closet to grab one of Jake’s.
The realization hits you like a truck, and you stop in your tracks. What is his is no longer yours.
He is no longer yours.
Fuck.
No one had taught you what to do when a good man hurts you, so you were going to pick yourself up piece by piece.
~
“Baby, please just listen t’me,” Jake slurs, his voice coming through the speaker of your phone in loud, drunken drawls, causing you to wince. It was the first night in your new apartment, and you were already struggling with the fact that it was just you and the four walls that surrounded you.
Your voice wavers as you try to remain level headed. “No. I’m not doing this anymore,” you whisper. The other line is silent for a moment, and you think he has given up. But the delicate swoon of a woman’s voice cuts through the phone, and your stomach lurches with both dread and anger.
It had been a week, and here he was, filling the divide with random women.
Well, two could play that game.
It didn’t take long to fall back into old habits. As they say, old habits die screaming, and it had become nearly impossible for you to hold back from the distraction the steady stream of men and women provided.
It was deeply unhealthy, and you knew it. Once they would leave, you’d seek solace in the steaming shower where the water both hid your tears and washed away the filth of last night’s activities that had lingered on your soft skin.
No matter how hard you scrubbed, you could not manage to rid yourself of the bruises and the overwhelming shame that seeped out of every pore.
Your body, which was once worshipped with soft kisses and gentle touches, was quickly becoming a way to numb the pain of having the rug pulled out from under you. Dark marks litter your skin in swirling, chaotic patterns that remind you of how little worth you have.
And in the darkness, the cruelest words taunt your inner psyche.
‘Maybe this is all I'm good for anymore.’
~
Those very words echo in your mind as you stumble into your apartment building on an unseasonably warm morning in April. The doorman gives you a sly look as he notices last night's mascara caked into the waterline of your eyes, smudged from the long night and the rough sex that followed.
You duck your head, wanting to disappear, and you hurry through the lobby, wanting to get out of the sparkly dress that was still adorning your body.
You reach the elevator, pressing the button to go up impatiently. The doors open, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Wait! Hold up, I’m coming,” a voice shouts, and you turn to look in the direction of the girl.
It was like a scene out of one of those ridiculous hallmark movies. Blonde hair gleams in the early morning sun, reflecting off of the large glass windows of the lobby. The girl’s blue eyes shine with amusement as you stare up at her, momentarily forgetting your desire to remain unnoticed.
She steps into the enclosed space with you, and you let out a shaky breath. Her presence was intoxicating, and it was quickly becoming very apparent that you looked like a goddamn mess.
“Fun night?” She asks with a teasing lilt to her voice, and you blush.
“Not really,” you say blandly, surprised by your own candor. “But it was a good distraction.”
The girl studies you, her eyes raking over your collarbone where a large hickey now resided.
“I’m Paige,” she says, and you tell her your name as the flush extends over your chest, settling into it.
“I’m in apartment 555. Let me know if you ever want to talk,” she winks, walking out of the elevator. “Or if you need a healthier distraction,” she adds over her shoulder right as the doors close.
Your face blooms with color again, and your belly erupts in the feeling of excitement.
Because in that moment, you had unconsciously decided to leave it all behind.
For there was a glorious sunrise looming over the black hills that had risen in your heart, blanketing a warmth you hadn’t felt in months. And her name was apparently Paige.
Paige was on the forefront of your mind all day, and you welcome the giddiness, inviting it into your heart like an old friend.
A new motivation pours into you as you walk into your apartment, the bare walls emulating the blandness you had been feeling since the breakup. Your eyes glance towards your storage closet, and without a second thought, you begin to decorate, the pieces of you that you once had to keep hidden were now proudly out on display.
It was the first step to healing. And damn, did it feel good.
~
Healing is never a linear process. And as your thumb grazes over your phone screen, open to Tinder, your mind fights with your heart over falling back into bad habits.
You huff, looking around to make sure no one watches you as you stand near the elevator waiting to go back home after the gym one afternoon. Your thumb swipes across a few profiles, almost instinctively, as you mindlessly scroll to find someone worthy of your time.
You weren’t even going to fuck them this time, you tell yourself. You just needed a little attention to fill the void.
If you repeat it enough times, surely it’ll start to ring true.
“She’s cute. Why’d you swipe left?” A husky voice murmurs in your ear, and you jump, immediately closing out the app on your phone and whirl around to face the familiar sound.
“We gotta stop meeting like this,” Paige chuckles, looking you up and down, and you flush.
She just had that effect on you.
“If she’s so cute, why don’t you date her?” You ask, almost defensively, feeling the heat of her gaze. Damn her and those eyes.
“Prefer to meet pretty girls in person,” she smirks, clearly noticing the blush on your cheeks.
“Did you think about my offer?”
You fight a smile. “Maybe,” you shrug, wanting to keep your cards close to your chest. Even if you had been internally fawning over her the past few weeks, she did not need to know that.
Her smile widens, and you swear you can actually see a twinkle in her eye.
“And…?” She goads, leaning in closer to you as the elevator opens, and she leads you in with a hand ghosting across the small of your back.
“I just got out of a really long relationship,” you start to explain, faltering as she steps even closer into your space.
“Who said anything about a relationship?” Her eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to yours, tracking your face expertly.
“I–” you begin, her breath fanning over your face distracting you from being able to put words together. You lean in, your eyes nearly fluttering closed before the elevator pings and the door opens.
You suck in a breath, the realization slamming into you.
Paige squeezes your hip, as you look back up at her wide eyes.
“8 tonight. Alright?”
You nod dumbly, enthralled by the trance she had put you in. The elevator doors close, and you’re met with your own reflection staring back at you, and in the silver chrome, you watch your smile come back to life.
~
You arrive at her door that night, your palms slick, and you wipe them on your pants just in case she holds your hand tonight.
You were lying if you said you hadn’t spent the entire day fantasizing about Paige. You had thought about the way her hair was tucked up in a bun this morning, practically begging you to take it out and run your hands through the soft, golden locks. And you had thought about how her pink, plush lips had formed into a smirk, making you want to tell your funniest jokes just to see the curve of her smile widen.
You had thought about her hands and the way they had grazed across your skin, setting every nerve ending in your body ablaze with a feeling you hadn’t felt in months.
All of the people you had hooked up with in your sickening conquest to forget about your ex-boyfriend could not hold a candle to Paige.
And that fucking terrified you. But here you were, at her door, ready to face whatever the universe was going to throw at you.
There’ll be happiness. You just knew it.
You shake your head, scolding yourself for the internal gay ramblings, and you knock, waiting for that gorgeous face to appear on the other side.
The door opens, and your breath hitches as Paige smiles at you, reaching for your hand to pull you inside.
Thank god you had wiped them off.
“Welcome to my crib,” she jokes, leading you to sit on her couch.
You scan the room, surprised at how well it was decorated before landing back on her.
Paige had sat next to you, drawing her legs up in a way that felt strangely intimate. She crosses her hands dramatically. “So, tell me why you’ve been using Tinder to cope.”
You splutter, not expecting her to be so blunt.
“Damn, you don’t need to roast me,” you giggle, a faux pout on your lips, drawing Paige’s attention to them.
“Is it cuz of your ex?” She asks, and you nod.
“Yeah. I–I guess I just wanted to feel like I had some sort of worth still.”
Paige stares at you with a somber look on her face. She reaches up to cup your cheek, running her thumb across the smooth skin of your jaw.
“You do. Promise,” she whispers genuinely, and the simplicity of her words rip every single bit of cautiousness from your body.
And you lean in and kiss her.
Your lips move in perfect synchronicity, like two dance partners who could see inside each other's minds. You lean into her touch, her hand coming up to rest on your waist, as you nearly squirm onto her lap.
She moans as your mouth opens, letting her fall into you, as two becomes one.
It was perfect and poetic, just as new beginnings tend to be.
Time slows as you sit with each other, exploring and indulging before you finally pull away, your chest rising and falling in quick, staccato breaths.
Paige places a kiss onto your cheek, brushing her thumb across your lips to sweep away the extra spit that had accumulated amidst the sudden passion.
“Well, I’d say that was a pretty successful first session, huh?” She teases.
“When’s the next one?” You ask, a giggle bubbling up in your chest, as you lean back into Paige, who just laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.
You were going to be just fine.
Paige would make sure of it.
~
welllll what'd you think?? thanks so much for reading
xoxo katy
~
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Text
—lost in translation.
pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader
genre: a little angst, fluff, best friend’s little brother au, friends to lovers, pininggggg, miscommunication (gone right?)
word count: 5.2k
summary: hyunjin needed answers and he needed them now. even if it meant showing up at your place late at night with a few drinks in his system, ready for things to go either terribly wrong or incredibly right.
warnings: miscommunication, mentions of alcohol and drinking
author’s note: hellooo, and thank you so much for being so patient<3 this is part 23 of my social media au “heart out”. part 24 will be written as well, so don’t worry if there were a few things left unsaid in this one lol. as always, i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please don’t forget to leave an ask or a comment telling me your thoughts on it<3
Hyunjin was usually a very chill and spontaneous person. He did things when he felt like it, without really giving it much thought. If he wanted to do something and it felt right, then why would he hold back? He could always deal with the consequences of his own actions later.
When it came to you, however, he was the complete opposite.
Ever since he met you, he had been tiptoeing his way around your heart.
He wanted to do things right when it came to you, and, as a result, his interactions with you throughout the years tended to end up with him overthinking instead of doing.
Starting with him hiding his feelings and keeping his interactions with you to the minimum when he was still a high schooler, to him still hiding his feelings while trying to get closer to you when he entered university, to then still say nothing about them when you started dating Mingyu, up until now, that he finally got another shot at getting close to you, yet he still refused to confess his feelings until you were ready to hear it.
And that was the thing, if it were up to him and acting accordingly to how he felt in the moment, he would’ve confessed a long time ago — probably back in his first year of university, particularly when he found out you and Mingyu were dating and he felt like calling you up and letting it all out. But he wouldn’t, because although it would be a huge weight to get off his shoulders, he wouldn’t want you to deal with the burden of knowing he loved you when you didn’t love him back; not like that, at least.
He wouldn’t confess, because he didn’t want you to feel bad for not being there just yet, if ever.
He didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had because of a whim, and so he decided to deal with his feelings on his own. Until he knew for sure that you were ready to hear a confession from him, he wouldn’t say the words out loud to you.
Of course, that was up until this evening.
After coming to the conclusion that Dahye had followed her word and told you about his feelings for you, and having you distance yourself from him ever since, which could only mean you didn’t feel the same and were preparing to turn him down; and, furthermore, after hearing from Yeji that you wouldn’t mind going out with her twenty three year old coworker once you were ready to date again, there was no room in his head for him to think of the consequences of confessing to you anymore.
If you were turning him down anyway, if you were going out with someone else anyway… if he was losing you anyway, then what did he have to lose by finally letting you know how deeply he felt for you?
Maybe it was the alcohol he’d been consuming with his friends that night, or maybe it was just him simply not giving a fuck anymore — maybe both.
Whatever it was, it was giving him the final push he needed, for he was now standing outside your building, ignoring the freezing breeze of the night —as the black cotton sportswear he was wearing did little to nothing to keep him warm—, while he desperately texted you in hopes of you being awake and letting him come up, so you would finally get to talk and turn him down if that’s what you wanted to do in the end.
If you were turning him down at one point in the next two days, he would rather have you do it now.
He felt like he was going insane; like no matter what the outcome was, whether you turned him down or not, he would collapse if he didn’t get an answer within the next few minutes.
When you wouldn’t answer his texts and there were no signs of you being online, he decided to call you instead. He wasn’t giving up that easily that night, if at all.
It only took one missed call and ten more seconds waiting on the line for you to pick up.
“Hyunie?” Your sleepy yet worried voice was enough to quiet his running thoughts down. “Something happened? Are you alright?”
He stayed silent for a moment, staring up at your window.
“Hyunie?” You repeated. He heard you shift in your bed, and then he saw the light in your room turn on. “Are you there?”
“Can I come up?” He asked quietly.
Silence filled the line for a moment. “What?”
“I texted you… I think you didn’t see it” he explained. “I’m outside your building. Can I please come up? I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you now”.
“Y-Yeah… of course” you failed to hide how taken aback you were. “Help yourself in”.
“Okay…”
Hanging up, his eyes went to the front door to your building, and he suddenly felt the weight of what was about to come on his shoulders. But he was already here, and even if he turned around and went home instead, he knew he would not be able to sleep for the second night in a row as long as he didn’t clear things up with you.
He was already here and you were waiting for him upstairs, so he might as well rushed up to you.
-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡
Entering the passcode he knew by heart, he made his way into your place; taking off his shoes and putting on the slippers you kept by the door for your guests, which he knew were pretty much his by now.
As expected, all the lights were out except from the one in your bedroom, where he caught you coming out from.
He would never get tired of seeing you barefaced; and the slightly messy hair you were running your fingers through in a quick attempt to fix, along with the pastel pink silk pyjamas you were wearing, could only make him adore you even more. However, you looked tired, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for waking you up.
“Hey” he mumbled, suddenly feeling the madness inside his head calm down at the mere sight of you.
“Hey…” you softly greeted him back, leaning against your doorframe and resting your head on it. “Did something happen?”
He denied with his head, coming closer to you. “Just couldn’t wait anymore to talk to you, I’m sorry”.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him, slightly frowning when you got a closer look at him. “Have you been drinking?”
A small, surprised pout formed on his lips. What gave it away? His eyes? Was he reeking of alcohol? Or did you know him so well that a simple look at him was enough for you to tell when something was off?
“Just had a few drinks with the boys, it’s nothing” he brushed it off.
“You didn’t drive here, did you?”
“No, of course not” he was the one to frown this time. “I’m fine, though”.
You said nothing, but he caught the hesitation in your eyes.
“I’m fine, Y/N” he reassured you one last time. “I didn’t drink that much anyway”.
Just enough for his inhibitions to shut down; not enough not to realise what he was doing.
“Okay…” you decided to believe him.
With a light tilt of your head, you invited him into your room, where the lightning was better — although the dim light coming from the white lamp on your nightstand could only make him feel sleepier.
You sat down on the edge of your unmade bed, as you’d been sleeping up until he called you, and motioned for him to do the same. Once he did, silence was fast to take over.
“Um… I’m not—I wasn’t really prepared to talk about this now,” you messily tried to come up with the right way to approach the issue. “So I don’t know where to begin, if I’m honest…”
He understood what you were feeling perfectly. In all honesty, although he had come all the way over here to get the answer he so badly needed, he, too, didn’t know where to begin.
There was so much to say, so much to ask, so many ways to word his questions, that his mind went blank.
So, he said the first thing he could think of right then.
“Dahye told you, didn’t she?”
You looked distressed at the mention of her, and that was enough for him to get the answer he was dreading. “Sorry?”
“She talked to you?” He rephrased it.
“Mhm…” you nodded, looking down to your lap. “She did”.
“And is that why you’ve been so distant?” Hyunjin asked carefully.
You nodded again, silently. “I’m sorry, I just needed some time to think” your eyes went back up to lock with his. “How’d you know she talked to me?”
“She kinda threatened me with telling you, so…” he rolled his eyes.
��Oh… that’s…”
Crazy. She was crazy.
Hyunjin nodded, not needing to hear any words coming out of your mouth to understand what you wanted to say. “I know. I should learn not to underestimate her”.
“Yeah, I probably should, too…” you smiled weakly. “Good thing I realised something was off and didn’t believe her in the end”.
“Wait, what?” His eyebrows furrowed.
Something was off? You didn’t believe her?
“I didn’t believe her,” you repeated. “I was a bit shaken up at first, and that’s why I took some distance from you. I just needed to think about it with a cold head, but all along I didn’t want to believe it was true, so ultimately I didn’t. It didn’t sound like you at all”.
Was he tripping? Was he really way more drunk than he thought for your words to make no sense to him?
“You didn’t… want to?” Hyunjin’s heart ached, mostly hung up on those words of yours. “Would it be that bad if it was true?”
“Yes,” you replied in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if that was the case, Hyunjin”.
I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if Dahye will always be there and I knew you’d go back to her whenever you get tired of me; is what you meant.
It would be bad if it was true that you’re in love with me, because I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you and ever love you back; is what he heard.
Just like that, for the fourth time in his life, once again because of you, his heart broke.
Although he’d come here knowing well enough that getting turned down by you was a very high possibility, actually hearing you so tactlessly say those words to him right then, and getting every chance of ever being with you crushed into pieces just like that, had his heart hurting in a way it had never before.
Feeling physically ill and finding it hard to breathe, he stood up, pacing around your room for a few seconds before he looked for support on the wall by leaning his back on it.
This might’ve been his worst heartbreak yet, for unlike the previous times, he’d let himself be led on. This time, he really thought that there was something going on between the two of you. All the reciprocated flirting and touches… had it all been him? Did you really not realise what you’d been doing to him all along?
“Hyunie…” you whispered, feeling your own heart break at the sight of him and going up to him, unable to give into your own sorrow as he seemed to have just confirmed that what Dahye told you was indeed true.
He closed his eyes as he tilted his head up to keep the tears from coming out of them.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
He defeatedly shook his head when you placed your hand on his shoulder, rubbing his hands on his eyes to wipe the oncoming tears before he tried to walk away. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t a good—I can’t, I should leave” he apologised.
“So it’s true then?” You asked, grabbing his wrist for him to stay.
He shook his head no, and for just a moment there you felt relief, before he finally turned around and looked at you with reddened eyes. “Of course it’s true” his bottom lip trembled. “Why wouldn’t it be? Did I really get it all wrong?”
Your eyebrows knitted together, understanding this entire situation less and less by the second. “Get what wrong?”
“This,” he repeatedly pointed his finger from you to him. “Us. Whatever it is that I thought was going on between us”.
“Hyunjin…”
“I knew I was getting my hopes up too fast, but I thought,” he paused for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief over his own delusions. “All this time I thought what kept holding you back was our age gap, but turns out the problem was never my age, but me”.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’d be willing to go out with that one other guy who’s also my age, so it was clearly never the problem”.
“What guy?”
“You know what guy”.
“Felix?” You pinpointed, not really knowing any other guys his age. Not like you particularly knew Felix either anyway. “I’m not going out with him”.
“You said you wouldn’t mind him being twenty three, though”.
“Because I don’t care about age, not because I want to date him” you tried to defend yourself. “Weren’t you the one who told me to consider dating younger guys?”
“Exactly, I told you that. Me. I said it so you would at some point consider me, not so you would start looking at other guys my age” he clarified.
“Hyunjin, I’m not—Why does age suddenly matter so much to you?”
“Because if you’re willing to date a guy who’s three years younger than you, then why can’t it be me?!”
You froze.
During all the years you had known him, you had never seen him lose his temper. He was always calm, rational. Had he ever even raised his voice in your presence other than when he got excited about something?
This was a side of him you’d never seen before, and it broke you.
Seeing him look so hopeless and sound so defeated right then, made you feel like holding him and never let go of him.
Things were moving too fast, though, and when you wanted to reach for his face and wipe the tear that had just rolled down one of his cheeks, he beat you to it; harshly wiping his face with his hands, as he refused to look away from you.
“All this time I’ve done nothing but pour my heart out to you. I’m so… so fucking in love with you it hurts me, Y/N. There are times when it physically pains me to love you this much,” he confessed.
Right now, it was one of those times.
“I’ve done everything in my hands for you to stop seeing me like the teenage boy you met back then, for you to stop seeing me just like Yeji’s little brother, and I know you’re not ready for a relationship yet, but I was willing to wait for as long as you needed me to until you were, because I was delusional enough to believe that I could actually make you fall for me” a breathless, humorless laugh abandoned his lips. “And now it turns out you just won’t ever feel the way I feel for you, and this guy shows up out of nowhere and gets everything I’ve tried to get from you right away without even moving a finger, and I just… I don’t know where to go from here”.
Your heart squeezed inside your chest.
Of all the things you were expecting as the outcome of your talk, a confession wasn’t one of them. Not this kind of confession, at least.
You were speechless. Not only did you not know what to say, but even if you did, you were sure your voice would betray you by not coming out when you opened your mouth.
Hyunjin loved you.
It wasn’t just a crush like you thought. It wasn’t him looking for something casual like you feared. No, he loved you. He was serious about you.
Why did you feel so happy yet so afraid about his feelings for you being so strong?
He took a step towards you, and you felt your heartbeat raise when his face was only a couple of inches away from yours and his breathing began to mix with yours.
“I don’t wanna give up on you, Y/N, I don’t. But I just don’t kn—What do I have to do for you to consider me?” He asked, pulling you closer by your waist. “What does he have that I don’t?”
“I’m not going out with him, Hyunjin” you repeated in a whisper, hoping this time he would believe you.
Whether he believed you or not, he leaned in closer, faintly brushing his nose with yours. “What do I have to do for you to give me a chance then?”
“Hyun…”
“I’ll do anything,” he said, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “Just tell me what and I’ll do it”.
You slowly shook your head no, unable to get any kind of word out of your mouth. Was it not obvious enough already that you did feel something for him? Had the way you talked to him and how you acted around him not been enough for him to get that you liked him as something more than just a friend? As way more than just your best friend’s brother?
You couldn’t find the right words to tell him that. The only thing you could do was to stare into his eyes, and then down into his lips, feeling the tension between the two of you grow by the second.
Hyunjin caught up on that immediately, leaning closer, so he could brush his mouth on yours for a second, before he closed the gap that kept them from touching.
Only you beat him to it.
Had you waited one more second, he would’ve been the one to press his lips on yours.
But you did not.
Instead, you were the one to press your mouth on his.
You were the one to kiss him first.
You were kissing him.
And he froze.
His right hand was still cupping your face, his left one remained on your waist, and his eyes had naturally closed the moment he felt the heavenly pressure of your lips on his. But he froze nevertheless.
For the first few seconds, he was too stunned, too overwhelmed —in the best way possible— to even react. And, unfortunately, a few seconds was all the kiss lasted; for he missed your touch right when he was about to kiss you back.
“I’m sorry” you apologised right as you pulled away and covered your mouth with your hands, as if only then coming to your senses. “Hyunie, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t—”
That was as much as you got to say, for in a second he had already removed your hands from your mouth and replaced them with his lips.
You’d be damned if you thought you could get away with letting him get a taste of your lips only to deprive him of you all over again.
You kissed him back right away, going against your poorly attempted apology, and driving him crazy when you wrapped your arms over his shoulders. His hands that had been previously cupping your face were now on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he tried to feel you as close to him as he could.
He kissed you like he needed you, like he’d been deprived of you for decades and was only now allowed to get a taste of you; and yet, he managed to be so gentle that you were left craving more by the second, whilst wanting him to kiss you just like that for a little longer.
After all, you didn’t know he had been dreaming of this moment for nearly seven years now.
Just like you, he, too, started wanting more. Pulling your hips harder against his and getting a small gasp of yours to part your lips, he took the chance to delve his tongue in your mouth — unable to keep the corners of his lips from curving slightly up when he felt your tongue massage his right back.
With your breathings becoming heavier, and without even dreaming of letting go of your lips just yet, Hyunjin made you take a couple of steps back, until your legs reached your bed and you instinctively sat down on it, allowing him to lean over you as he followed your mouth.
“You’re drunk…” you managed to whisper, right after you laid back on the mattress and his mouth sucked on your bottom lip once more.
“I’m fine, I’m fin—I’m perfect” he whispered in between kisses.
He was perfect. Being with you like this, with him hovering over you while your fingers gently dug into his hair and your mouths so deliciously sucked on each other, he could not be anything other than perfect.
Kissing you felt like a dream, and a part of him was afraid that it was one.
“No, Hyunjin…” you mumbled, only a couple of seconds later. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”
“Why not?” He asked, pulling slightly away from you — not enough for your lips to stop brushing.
“I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now” you confessed what his sister had told him earlier that night and, therefore, what he already knew. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have kissed you”.
“No, don’t be sorry for kissing me. Anything but that, Y/N. You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to kiss you all this time” he tenderly ran his thumb up and down on your cheekbone. “I can wait until you’re ready. Starting tomorrow morning I’ll wait all you need me to, but right now just… let me kiss you for a little longer”.
Having him whisper those words when his mouth was faintly touching yours, could only make you feel yourself give in to his plea.
“Hm?” He asked, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “One more and I’ll stop”.
Unable to speak, as it seemed to be the norm that night, you closed your eyes; and that was enough for him to take the hint and replace the thumb on your bottom lip with his mouth, sweetly sucking on it before he softly traced it with his tongue, for you to let him in and meet him midway.
The desperation of your second kiss was no longer there, as he now took his time to engrave in his memory every single second of your mouth sucking on his and your tongue massaging his own. He didn’t know when he would ever get to kiss you again, after all, and he wanted to take in as much as he could of it.
He wanted to take his time now; and kiss you slowly, deeply, lovingly.
When you were both left panting for air, he rested his forehead on yours, cupping your nape with his hand and digging his fingers in your hair before he hid his face in the crook of your neck, as a breathy laugh abandoned his mouth.
“You’re driving me crazy” he confessed.
“I should be the one saying that,” you chuckled rather sadly. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me anymore, Hyunjin…”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re confusing me so much right now. You say you love me and you make me feel so special, but then you go and…” you sighed, feeling him slowly withdraw his face from your neck as he tried to understand your point. “I wish it was that easy, but I can’t let myself fall for you now that I know what Dahye said is true”.
“I swear you’re making me question how much I actually drank, because that doesn’t make any sense and—You can’t do this to me, Y/N” his piercing eyes fixed on yours, and the way his voice sounded so calm now could only make your body tense up under him. “You can’t just kiss me and then tell me that…” he sighed, attempting to collect his thoughts. “If you don’t feel ready for a relationship I get it, and I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to, baby, that’s never been a problem. But you can’t just tell me that you’ll never love me back and then kiss me only to turn m—”
“When did I ever say I’d never love you back?” You questioned.
“When we were talking earlier?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I asked you if it would be so bad if what Dahye told you was true and you said yes”.
“Yes,” you agreed. “Because I can’t put myself through the hell your messy relationship with her would bring me”.
His eyebrows knitted together. “What messy relationship?”
“You know…” you avoided his eyes, only then being hit with how much the thought of him with someone else actually affected you. “This whole ‘fuck buddies’ thing and you going back to her no matter who you are with”.
“That’s ridiculous” he blurted out, almost offended that such an atrocity had just left your mouth. “Where did you even get that from?”
“That’s what Dahye told me” you said.
“That’s what…” the puzzle pieces finally connected in his head. “Is that why you said you wouldn’t be able to fall for me?”
“Yes?” You tilted your head questioningly. “Isn’t that what we were talking about all along?”
He should be mad at Dahye right then. He should want to scream at her for playing with the two of you like this.
Any other time, he would’ve been fuming. Right then, however, with your troubled expression as you didn’t get what was going on, with your pretty lips all swollen from how hard he’d been kissing you up until a minute ago, and having experienced such a wide range of emotions in a matter of minutes, he could only laugh.
Tilting his head back and letting a throaty laugh escape his mouth, he slumped back next to you on your mattress and covered his face with both hands, as he let his laughter take over him.
Nervousness, madness, embarrassment, relief, happiness; it was all mixed up into one loud, painful laughing fit.
He felt like a maniac, feeling you stare at him in worry and obliviousness, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop laughing.
“What’s so funny?” You wondered when he struggled to catch his breath.
“She lied” he explained, finally feeling like his laughter was coming to an end.
“She lied?”
“She lied” he confirmed, removing his hands from his face and wiping a couple of tears off his eyes before he locked them with you. “I don’t like her at all, Y/N. We hardly ever even talk, why would I—” he took in a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he felt like he was going crazy. “Can’t believe I cried for nothing”.
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth, both over his last remark and over how relieved you felt to know it was all been a misunderstanding, and that you had been right not to believe her in the first place.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough” you pouted, gently cupping his face when he turned to you.
He shook his head no, letting you know it was okay as he placed his hand on yours. “I didn’t specify either, so I was at fault, too” he smiled softly. “And we probably wouldn’t have ended up kissing if I hadn’t gotten so heated up anyway, so it was totally worth it”.
“You’re an idiot” you laughed once again, smiling when he leaned in and rested his forehead on yours.
“You still kissed me, though” he pointed out, bringing some heat to your cheeks. “Does that mean I actually have a chance now?”
“Was me kissing you not a good enough answer to that?”
“Kisses can mean nothing to some people, so…”
“I’m not one of those people, Hyunie” you let him know.
“Good,” he smiled, pulling you to his chest. “Because kissing you meant everything to me”.
You wrapped an arm around him, nuzzling the fabric of the black sweatshirt he was wearing and taking in his scent you loved so much.
“Shouldn’t we properly talk about what Dahye told us?” You mumbled.
“That, and about where we’re standing now, too” he agreed, sweetly tracing his fingertips up and down your back. “My head hurts now, though. I feel like I’m spiraling, I went through too many emotions in too little time”.
You giggled, looking up at him. “You want to continue this conversation tomorrow? When we’re both a little less overwhelmed?”
“Yeah…” he nodded. “I can sleep peacefully now that I know you feel something for me, too”.
You chuckled, making his bottom lip stick out in confusion when you pulled away from him and sat up on your bed. “It’s late, you can sleep here tonight. I’ll take the couch”.
He grabbed your wrist before you could get up. “Stay with me?”
“Hyun…” you hesitated.
“I won’t try anything, I promise” he was fast to say, well aware of where your hesitation was coming from. “Just need to feel you close tonight”.
If he was honest, any other time, he would’ve offered to take the couch and that would’ve been the end of it, but tonight he really needed your closeness. He needed to know you were there, to feel you next to him. And, thankfully for him, you needed just the same.
Silently motioning for him to get under the covers, you let him know you agreed to his request. He smiled widely, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before he did as told — making you laugh wholeheartedly when you got under the sheets as well and he wasted no time to pull you to his chest again and to tuck you in with him.
This entire day had been a mess. Hell, the whole fucking week had been unbearable. But you had been able to talk it out at last. Although messily, you now seemed to be on the same page about everything; from your feelings, to what you were looking for, to where the whole misunderstanding had originated.
This may not have been the conversation the two of you were expecting to have, but it was coming soon enough. Tonight, you could just go to sleep in each other’s arms, knowing what each other’s lips felt and tasted like, and with the certainty that your feelings were reciprocated.
Neither of you would have it any other way.
tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin
#skz#hwang hyunjin#stray kids#skz imagines#hyunjin imagines#stray kids imagines#kpop#kpop fanfic#skz fanfic#hyunjin fanfic#stray kids fanfic#skz fake texts#hyunjin fake texts#stray kids fake texts#skz social media au#hyunjin social media au#stray kids social media au#skz x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#stray kids x reader
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equivalent exchange.
DRAFT. this fic is incomplete, as i've stated in this post. this has been sitting in the dungeon for a while, and i have no plans to finish them, but i posted these drafts to not let them go to waste. it is up to you if you still want to read them regardless of their incompletion :) i will be writing my original ideas for the fic at the end so you guys will have an idea of what the fic was supposed to be like.
premise. when ayato stumbles upon a drafted resignation letter on your desk, he doubles his efforts to show you the perquisites of staying by his side.
he doesn't want to lose a competent subordinate. that's all there is to it.
note. what's wrong with secretary kim au but it's definitely not the same because i stopped watching at episode 5 and have no idea what happened. anyways i think we were all expecting a ceo!ayato x secretary!reader fic at some point so here it is. (couldn't keep this gender neutral for plot reasons, so feminine pronouns were used.)
Kamisato Ayato considers himself a good boss.
Or as far as things go, he's a decent one. He treats his employees well, takes them to expensive restaurants for company dinners, and discourages overtime so they can head off early for the night. He doesn't care much for formalities, and he gets along with his colleagues fairly well. He's never heard anyone talk behind his back or complain about his attitude at work, and there aren't any rumors spreading about him (if he turns a blind eye to the conspiratorial gossip guessing his relationship status).
But he does have minor faults. Like showing a more mischievous side when work hours are over. Getting Thoma dead drunk during dinners because his half-conscious inebriated talking is a form of amusement, or riling up Itto in drinking games just because it's funny. Then he leaves Sara to clean up the mess for him, since Yae seems to enjoy the comedy sketch as thoroughly as he does and probably won't lift a finger to help even if he asked her to.
As his assistant, you're prone to falling victim to his shenanigans, silly stunts that coax out aggravated eye rolls and sighs of exasperation. Years of experience eventually shaped you up to be entirely immune to April Fools' pranks.
He's in the middle of planning another one when he spots a letter of resignation on your desk.
At first, he thinks it's your rebellious phase arriving a decade late. He always found it odd how you never retaliated against his tricks, and this may just be the long-awaited April Fools' prank of vengeance. If it is, it's particularly mean of you—Ayato does have feelings, you know? Even he would feel hurt if you told him you wanted to leave! You shouldn't take this kind of thing lightly!
Then he remembers you aren't the type to make jokes, April Fools' or otherwise, and it's that moment when he feels (proper) fear.
“[Name] wants to resign?!”
Ayato makes a zipping motion and Thoma's shrieks immediately die down, but the disbelief on his face has yet to wane. His brows scrunch together, brain hard at work in processing this piece of information, though it seems to short-circuit in utter confusion from the sudden blow.
Scandalized, Thoma lowers his head and levels his voice to a hushed whisper, “Are you sure you saw it correctly?”
“I have able eyes. Unfortunately, my optometrist confirmed my perfect vision and assured I saw it just fine.” Woe is he.
“Get them checked again.”
“No matter how much I check, it won't change the results, Thoma.”
“We don't know that for sure, sir!”
“Trust me,” Ayato deadpans, looking off into the distance, “I checked with him thrice.”
Defeated, Thoma leans back to his chair, crossing his arms while deep in thought. “You saw the letter, but she didn't turn it in, did she?”
“She didn't. No e-mail, either.” Ayato taps the table in a mindless rhythm, expression stern but the shape of his lips almost resembling a pout. “Do you have any idea why she'd want to resign?”
Thoma rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Is that a genuine question, sir?”
Ayato's head snaps back to look at his companion. “Why wouldn't it be?”
“...Everyone in the office knows you... tease her for your own amusement.”
“It's my way of showing affection.” The corners of his lips curl up, stretching to a twisted smile as he rests his cheek on his palm. “Isn't she just so adorable when she gets angry?”
“You really do have a rotten personality.”
Ayato waves his hand in a noncommittal response. “We're straying off topic. What should we do next?”
Thoma hums, closed fist beneath his chin. “Since she hasn't turned in the letter yet, that means she must be hesitating. For what reason, we don't know, but it's keeping her here. So before she makes up her mind, we should dissuade her from quitting no matter what.”
Ayato laces his fingers together, brow in an inquisitive arch. “And we do that by?”
Green eyes sparkle with tenacity, clashing with blue irises twinkling in intrigue. “We bribe her, sir. It's time to show off your good points.”
--
“If a woman quits her job, what do you think her reasons could be?”
Ayaka blinks owlishly at her brother, taken aback by the abrupt question. It's a sudden thing to ask, especially odd given how their conversation hasn't led to that topic at all. “Did someone resign? I haven't heard anything of the sort, though.”
Ayato shakes his head, stirring the boba tea in his hands. “It's a hypothetical.”
Which means it's real.
Ah, whatever. At least he didn't go for the “my friend...” excuse.
Ayaka warily cuts a portion of her cake, scrutinizing each microexpression flashing on Ayato's face. It's one of their weekly lunch meetings, squeezed between hectic schedules, and they more or less have a silent agreement to avoid discussions involving work if they could help it. But this time, he brought it up himself.
How peculiar.
“Perhaps she wants to change workplaces? If she's exemplary, she might have been offered a better position or higher pay.”
Ayato nearly scoffs at the suggestion. The company, old-fashioned as it is, can only be inherited by a direct line of descendants. Outsiders can only go so far, and being the secretary for the chief executive officer isn't bad at all. Last time he checked, he's been paying you generously as well—how many figures was it? Six?
“Oh!” Ayaka exclaims, holding up a finger as she seems to have figured out something. “Or maybe she wants to settle down and get married? If her work is keeping her occupied, she'll most likely take time off to find a husband.”
Ayato proceeds to choke on a tapioca pearl.
“Or she got married and wants to be a housewife-”
“That's quite enough, Ayaka.”
Ayato would rather believe the Earth is flat.
--
If Ayato were any less desperate, perhaps he would have rationalized that putting together “give her what she wants to make her stay” and “she wants to get married” is a bad, bad idea.
Unfortunately for him, he is grasping at straws, so it leaves him no choice. Yes. Definitely. There is no other option than this, obviously.
(He does not delve deeper into the reason why he doesn't want you to leave, nor does he dwell any longer on why he was so quick to think he was fine with getting married if it was to you.)
“Don’t you want to get married soon, Ms. [Surname]?”
To clarify, Ayato does not spy on other people's conversations for a hobby, but he's always had impeccable timing. It comes with the job.
He stands by the door, reaching for the doorknob to the break room, but the mention of your name forces him to a halt.
“Why are you asking me that...?” You awkwardly dodge the question, sipping on your coffee. “I suppose I am at that age, though.”
“So you do want to!” The squeal rings with a note of glee, a stark contrast to Ayato's gradually dimming mood. “Wouldn't it be nice to marry a good man? I'm sure even you have thought of it at some point! Are you seeing anyone, then? Anyone you can imagine yourself marrying?”
“No, not yet.”
Before Ayato can even heave a relieved sigh, you follow with, “But my mother is making me go on dates to see people. Said if I didn't bring home a man soon, she'd come all this way to drag me back by my ear and introduce me to her friend's son.”
“Ah, I get that...” Your friend replies emphatically, nodding. “But those kind of meetings hardly go well. And you can't exactly tell your mother's friend you don't find her son attractive, right?”
“Why not just marry Mr. Kamisato, then?” Another one pipes up, to which Ayato gives a mental salute of appreciation. “You spend most of your time together. If you're not married to your job, then you're practically married to him.”
A cackle sends his heart dropping to his stomach.
“Not a chance.”
Can you at least expound why?!
“Huh? Why not? I mean, Mr. Kamisato is on another realm of existence and I can never hope to be on the same level as him, but you look good together!”
Your face pinches to a tight frown. “Look good together? In what way?”
“When you stand side by side, it just looks... right. And like I've mentioned earlier, you spend all your time with him. Why not seal the deal?”
“Mr. Kamisato is reliable, and if you marry him, you're set for life. He's handsome too, and we've all seen his muscles at our company sports day a few months ago!”
“I've never been so thankful for team-building events. Hallelujah.”
Ayato's face burns in embarrassment hearing the dreamy sighs. Even if they think there isn't anyone else listening on them (which is false), shouldn't they exert some restraint at work?
“Please don't lust over my boss,” you assert sternly, voice ice cold. “And we have a strictly professional relationship. So don't get any weird ideas from here on out, alright?”
“Fine. Tell me that again when I'm invited at your wedding, I dare you.”
“I said-”
They wave off your vehement protests at the statement. “Then if you're not into Mr. Kamisato, what do you plan to do?”
Ayato perks up, straining his ears in rapt attention.
“...I'm going on a date this weekend,” you sigh, rubbing circles on your temples. “I'll let you know how it goes.”
Oh no.
--
“-Dinner was nice. We didn't expect the rain shower, but he ran to the convenience store across the street to buy an umbrella because he didn't want me to get wet on the way to the car. He said it would be a waste if my hair got ruined since I-”
Slurp.
“...Styled it for the occasion. Then he drove me home. I found out we liked the same band from the music he played, and we agreed to-”
Sluuurp.
“-Go to their upcoming concert together. Then we somehow also like the same novel that's getting a movie adaption soon, so we also promised to see it-”
Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuurp.
“Could you please refrain from making noise when eating, sir?”
Ayato decidedly does not comply and only slurps his boba tea harder, nearly choking on a tapioca pearl yet again.
As always, you learn to ignore him.
“Concert... and a movie. I'm not sure about the concert, but the film you're talking about is the one coming out in the next two months, right?” Thoma confirms, sweating when Ayato's expression turns visibly grim. “You plan to see him for that long...?”
“Even if dating doesn't work out, we can always become friends, can't we?” You shrug, taking a bite out of your sandwich. “He seems like a nice guy. We get along really well, considering we've only met once. I ended up agreeing to a second date-”
The passive-aggressive slurping persists for the following afternoon.
--
“I've been meaning to ask for a while,” Thoma treads carefully, noticing Ayato's rapid-fire typing—no, striking—on the keyboard, “Ms. [Surname] is good at her job, but you seem really... eager to make her stay, sir.”
Ayato's fingers halt in their movement, and he takes a second to flash his business smile. “Of course. She's a valuable asset, and I'd be foolish to let her go.”
“Yes, I'm well aware, but...” Thoma scratches his cheek, looking off to the side. “You didn't go to such lengths when your former assistants resigned from their post. Or, uh... you fired most of them.”
“Yes,” Ayato simply agrees, still smiling, “she's competent. You don't find anyone like her easily, so it's only natural I'd want her to stay.”
“What do you mean by 'anyone like her,' sir?”
Thoma is awfully talkative today. Ayato might need to feed him something spicy to shut him up.
“Ms. [Surname] is special.” The words smoothly leave his lips. “Does anyone else have the meetings and company events scheduled for the next month memorized? She's the only one I can count on for work matters.”
Thoma's shoulders slump. “Okay, let me get straight to the point. Do you-”
“Mr. Kamisato?”
Thoma nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, accompanied by the clack of your heels.
“What is it?” The cold smile on his face finally melts to something more genuine, softer around the edges and looking especially radiant. It's welcoming, like your arrival counts as a joyous occasion, and he is exponentially more attentive compared to the way he lent Thoma half his ear (the other preoccupied with a phone call, which he swiftly ends the moment you walk in).
“I came to deliver some files from Ms. Miko... did I interrupt something?” You gesture to Thoma standing idly by the side, dumbfounded from Ayato's inconceivable behavior.
“Not at all. Is there anything else?” Ayato accepts the documents, noticing your hesitance to leave.
“Ah, yes, I will be asking for time off tomorrow.”
That's... rare?
But it's not a hard request. Ayato's own schedule is blank for the most part, since the latest project wrapped up not too long ago, and the workload is lighter than usual. Missing one work day won't do any harm.
“It's fine, but could I ask why?”
You fidget, tentative as you reply, “I was invited... for a trip on a cruise. He insisted I come since his friend bailed on him and the tickets would go to waste.”
The warmth in his eyes freezes over.
“The tickets would go to waste...” Ayato repeats under his breath, mockingly cruel. The tone flies past your head but it hits Thoma full-force, making him sweat profusely.
Distasteful. An utter disgrace of a man. The magnitude of his ignorance is so awe-inspiring, I have to applaud. I must give credit where it is due, and the foolishness of this clown is truly impressive. “The tickets will go to waste,” he says? His money must worth more to him than his dignity. Inviting Ms. [Surname] to a date on a workday with no regard for her schedule is one thing, but making her out to be an afterthought as a substitute for his original travel partner is another. How shameful. This is no way to treat a lady. If Ayaka were to be with a man of his caliber, I would never allow it.
But what he says outloud is of course, “I see. I hope you have fun, then.”
--
Corporate events are, for the most part, adequately entertaining.
Preparing for it is not.
But the worst part isn't even brainstorming themes, or finding an appropriate venue, or planning the logistics, or writing the guest list.
It's choosing what to wear.
Actually, the cause for Ayato's headache isn't even what attire he'll go with. It's yours.
“That looks wonderful,” Yae praises, looking at the picture on your phone. It displays a silver necklace, a tear drop topaz encased in a diamond twist. It pairs well with the dress you bought with Ayaka last week, an elegant fit that accentuated your curves.
However.
“He chose that for you, didn't he?”
The stoic line of Ayato's mouth twitches and his eyes can't help but sweep over your screen, scrutinizing each grainy pixel.
Though he has plenty of insults prepared at his arsenal, he can't find anything to nitpick about. Damn it. It's a good choice.
“You'll look stunning,” Kokomi assures good-naturedly, smiling in delight. Ayato does not doubt that will be the case, but he's sure he would be in a foul mood the entire night if he were to see you adorning it.
He has already retrieved his coffee from the break room so he excuses himself to his office, long strides that lead him out of earshot.
As a result, he doesn't hear the following conversation.
“Why this, though?” Kokomi asks, looking closely at the accessory. “It's a simple design. Doesn't look like something a man would pick from the rest.”
You shake your head. “I just told him I wanted something blue, and I couldn't choose myself because there were too many that caught my eye...”
“Blue?” She echoes, a simple curiosity. “Why blue?”
“...It's a pretty color.”
--
It is an actual coincidence that Ayato runs into you in the middle of shopping.
You're hunched over a display stand showcasing a variety of earrings, deep in thought as you observe each one. You're doing that thing where you scrunch your nose in concentration, a habit Ayato doesn't think you even realize you have.
“Fancy meeting you here, Ms. [Surname].”
(He wonders what face you would've made if he said “You go here often?” instead. Probably some degree of disgust.)
You blink, correcting your posture and nodding in greeting. You don't look particularly thrilled to see him, but at least you're unbothered by the prospect of seeing your boss on a free day. “You're here to shop too, Mr. Kamisato?”
Ayato smiles amicably. “I am. Were you planning to buy earrings?”
“Yes, but...” Your gaze returns to the display, your own smile faltering. “It is a bit difficult to choose.”
He walks over, scanning the variety up and down. “Is it really? You only need to choose a pair that matches your necklace, right?” He focuses on shades of silver, bypassing the vibrant colors of reds and pinks. Not even fifteen seconds later, he picks out a card and holds it out next to your ear. “This one looks nice on you.”
“Huh? Really?” Perhaps surprised by his swiftness, it takes you a moment to react accordingly. You take the card from his hands and flip it over, eyes widening by a fraction. “Oh. It is rather pretty.” Then they widen further as big as saucers. “I can't say the same for the price tag, though.”
“Hm? What price tag?”
He plucks the earrings from your hands, walks to the counter, and pays for it without a second thought.
“M-Mr. Kamisato?”
“Pull up your hair.”
“Eh? Oh, okay.”
You're so caught off guard that you unwittingly do as he says, tucking your hair back obediently and still processing the last two minutes.
His fingers tug at your ear, warmth bleeding to your skin, and by the time you return to reality, he's already putting the earrings on you.
STORY FLOW.
ok i lied i actually can't remember shit about this fic so i will be making up stuff as i go lol
what i do remember clearly is that the resignation notice that ayato found on your desk is years old. you meant to submit it way, way back when ayato was tougher on you, and you weren't as well-adjusted as you are now to the job yet. as stated in the fic, being ayato's secretary is no easy task—he'd fired countless people he thought was incompetent.
you fought a number of times, and you didn't know if you could keep up working for a man you thought was simply incompatible with you (in terms of being colleagues/partners).
but over time, you learned to work together. ayato acknowledged your efforts and hard work, and you knew ayato had been trying to give you less jobs to reduce your workload, but you were going to prove that hou could handle it.
what truly made you appreciate ayato more was when you got stranded at the train station. you dealt with a far company they collaborated with, but work ended later than expected, and you'd missed the last train home. taxis were an option, but youd have to go through several of them to get back. right when you were thinking of checking into a hotel, ayato informed you he was already on his way and drove a couple of hours to get where you were to bring you home.
time continued to pass, and that brings us back to the present. you were on the process of cleaning up your desk and left the old resignation notice out in the open by accident, which led to ayato seeing it.
it is very apparent to the others that you two like each other, but the involved parties themselves are unaware of it. you currently aren't eager to get married, but you were trying to meet people so your parents would stop bugging you about still being single.
anyway, ayato bought those earrings for you. timeskip to the corporate event. you unconsciously picked a blue motif for your outfit because it reminds you of ayato.
when you get there, surprise, surprise. the man you were meeting, kazuha is a bigwig, heir to some other corporation. he actually owned that cruise he invited you to and pretended he didn't because you might be intimidated. ayato didn't think the kazuha he knew and the kazuha you knew were the same person, and now the advantage he had over him was ruled out (i.e being rich). (actually while i was rereading i was surprised i didn't mention that it was kazuha...? istg i was imagining him the whole time i wrote about him)
anyhow, as it became later in the night, ayato wanted to get you home before kazuha could offer to drive you back or worse, spend the night with him. ayato acted drunk so you'd tend to him and accompany him home while his driver was in charge of taking you to his apartment. as you were nagging at him, he compared your interactions with him to yours and kazuha's. you were certainly nicer to that man. smiled at him a lot more, too. did you really like him that much?
if you did, could he let you go?
he was ashamed that he couldn't answer it right away. as if he had any right to whatever you do.
you carried him to bed when you got to his apartment, but when you were preparing to leave, he hugged you from behind. do you like that man? why do you want to leave me? why can't it be me? ayato was just pretending to be drunk, but he felt dizzy now, soaked in your scent. he said things that he wasn't supposed to. things that he couldn't take back. things that would change your relationship forever.
slowly, you took away the hands wrapped around your waist. ayato figured that was a message of rejection.
but then you pushed him back down on the bed and you straddled his lap. his mind was silent for but a few seconds before he started screaming mentally.
i've always wanted you, but i knew it was impossible. you have a fiancee. i'm an ordinary worker. your family won't accept me. ayato's mind was in a daze because your face was so close to his, and all he could see was the red, glossy shade on your lips, but he managed to hear those few sentences.
it doesn't matter. nothing else matters. i can't marry if it's not you. if you accept me, i swear i'll make you happy.
from here on, it could be a happy, fluffy ending where turns out, you were tipsy so you were more honest with him and you fell asleep in the middle of kissing so he took it upon himself to change your dress into something more comfortable and end the night with a forehead kiss...
...or you could continue what you were doing and the first thing ayato takes off is the damned necklace so he could replace it with a smattering of hickeys. your choice ^^
#genshin impact#genshin impact ayato#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#ayato x reader#ayato kamisato x reader#ayato imagines#genshin impact imagines#genshin imagines#ayato x you#for those worried about kazuha dw about it he doesn't want to get married either lol
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𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: run, run, run, through the shadows you stray, but the wolf is behind you and you're only prey - mother always said to never stop in the woods in fear of the wolf, if only you listened to her for once. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, drugging/aphrodisiac/forced lactation, forced breeding, slapping, p in v, blood, character death, gaslighting 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.7k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: @thef1diary & @emchante, my pookies fr because without them, would this have happened? probably not! also guys im running on 2 hours of sleep and instead of looking at my neurobiology lecture notes i wrote this instead because i couldn't stop thinking about this so if there's mistakes please forgive me!
"grab the tray, no the tray... i said the tray!" your mother hollered from the opposite side of the bakery. you poked your head around the furnace to see your mother glaring at you, her finger pointing towards the tray of bread. she had asked for you to slice them neatly so she could place them in the basket for lord perceval's maid. You were too busy perfecting the shapes of the new batch of cookies, your sense of priority amiss according to your mother. dusting your hands off, you strode over to grab the cutter, and turned your back to her. you could feel her dismissive eyes boring through the rear end of your skull. her conversation with the maid quickly died down, the sound of footsteps departing being heard from the entrance of the bakery that your late father had began 5 years ago. it was a pity that he was not around, you wouldn't have had to deal with the atrocious customers had he been at the door with his axe.
"have you not heard?" lady charlotte cooed, her hands smoothing down the outermost layer of her skirt. her eyes flickered from the velvety red texture of hers, to your beige, flour coated skirt that even your white apron could not cover. you noticed the edge of her lips curl upwards, her meaty hand coming forward to swipe the scone from you. "it's the talk of the town, lord perceval plans on leaving to England very shortly."
"i have not heard anything," you frowned, tilting your head. your mother had just walked in from cleaning the dishes outside, her hands calloused from having to use the rusty water pump by herself. you threw a glance over your shoulder at the poor woman pacing back and forth, as if forgetting something and then snapped your head back to the woman in front of you, "what is the town talking of?"
"oh my naive girl, there is a creature lurking in the woods! they say he came from spain, and finding no welcome there has come over here. they say he's a man by day, a wolf by night," lady charlotte grinned, her voice well below a whisper. your eyes widened, and just then your mother used the rolling pin to shoo away the woman,
"enough! do not bring these stories into my bakery. it's already bad enough that my daughter's not the brightest, don't give her ideas!"
"oh but i'm not! i'm just warning her. the bakery's right next to the woods after all," lady charlotte exclaimed which made your heart stop for a brief second. she was right, and it was absolutely terrifying to think about what horrors were just outside your window. your father had died when traversing the woods to find some logs for the fireplace. a similar fate could be met if your mother and you didn't leave. your mother rolled her eyes,
"if my mother can live alone in that cottage of hers, then surely there is no such wolf trying to feast on us. thank you for your time, lady charlotte, but i suggest you run back home before your father searches for you." and upon hearing your mother's words, the arrogant woman huffed out loud in annoyance, grabbed the ends of her skirt and walked out with her head held high. your eyes fixed onto the crumbs of the scone from earlier in the palm of your hand, shoulders sagging as you turned to your mother,
"she didn't pay for the scone."
"oh nevermind now, i'm sure there'll be more people to buy your scones later." your mother kissed your forehead, and you couldn't help but feel her linger a moment longer than necessary before hurrying to grab the batch of bread from the beehive oven. a few neighbors popped by to grab some cake and cookies, one of them even gave extra money for your scones, which left you gleaming as you took the coins graciously. you walked over to carefully place the coins in the small jar just below a small table when your mother took off her apron and informed you that she had to run a small errand. the marketplace was open earlier than usual today and considering how you both lived in the outskirts of the village, it would take her time to walk to and from. she kissed your forehead once more, telling you to keep a watchful eye on the bread in the oven and to be respectful to the customers, no matter how awful they treated you. the front door slammed as she left, leaving you in the eerie silence of the small bakery.
clink. clink. clink.
the sound of each coin echoed around you, a satisfying jingle when you shook the jar. you had been saving money to help buy a house near the center of town. your mother wouldn't have to walk so far, and if your grandmother did the world a blessing and passed away, you could easily sell her cottage in the woods. some fool would definitely buy it and with the extra money, you could buy some more baking supplies for your mother, perhaps hire another worker so you could frolic around with your friends like you used to. wherever they were... married, bearing children for their husbands. you shuddered at the thought, hating that your childhood came to an abrupt end with your father's death. you were toiling away to help your mother for the bare necessities, while they all had settled down and found their comfortable future. the door to the bakery swung open, and you scrambled to your feet,
"mother, how fast did you-" you paused, eyes focusing on a handsome, tall man instead of a frail woman. you brought a hand to your parted lips, "oh, i'm so sorry. i thought you were my mother."
"está bien, i was wondering if i could have something to eat." his accent was smooth, like butter flowing into a bowl. nodding, you walked over to the oven to pull out the cooked bread and placed it on the table to begin slicing. he was intently staring at your movements, brows occasionally furrowing when he saw you circle around in your spot to find something. from the corner of your eye, you were taking in his appearance. well-built, broad shoulders. big, brown eyes that would leave the moon envying its radiance, and hair that silk merchants would spend years foraging for. he was a brilliant being, royal in his appearance which left you questioning why he was begging for food like a common peasant. you shot him a shy smile as you walked over to where he stood to grab the cutter, twirling it in your fingers. a common habit you did that would make your mother lose her mind. perhaps it was his towering presence, but the small knife slipped across your finger, gifting you with a small cut that made you hiss as it clattered onto the floor.
"ugh," you grumbled, it was just a small cut. nothing too serious, but it was enough pain to have tears seeping from the corners. the man in front of you pouted a bit, holding your hand gently to wrap his lips around your thumb. you were enchanted at the feeling of his warm mouth, and was that his tongue flicking against your cut? you couldn't tell properly because you were getting flustered at his eyes gazing at you. he looked like a wolf that had just found a baby dear, and just when he took a step forward to you, the bakery door opened again to reveal your mother with a basketful of eggs and vanilla extract and most vividly, a scowl on her face.
"(y/n), can i ask what's going on here?" she questioned, stopping just in front of the two of you. you gulped, trying to pluck your thumb out of the man's mouth but he instead chose to bite down, causing you to cry out as your blood pooled onto his tongue. you wriggled away from his little bubble of space, staring at your mother with a dumbfounded expression,
"he came in asking for anything to eat and i was going to cut the bread, but then ended up cutting my f-" you had begun only for your mother to instantly berate you,
"i've told you so many times! so many times to never twirl that around! you need to be careful, you never listen to me!" your mother scoffed, setting the ingredients down. you were opening your mouth to argue when the man besides you then licked his lip, eyes bigger than usual. you frowned, taking in his appearance once more to see if there was something abnormal about him. your mother grabbed a new knife to begin cutting, which allowed you some time to ease your curiosity.
"are you new here? what's your name?"
"i just moved here a few days ago. my name is carlos-"
"your family name?"
"not important... at least to you," he snapped, raising an eyebrow at your desire to know more about him. you coughed into your elbow, awkwardly shuffling to your mother to help with shelving away the ingredients. as you slipped to the back of the house which was your pantry, you could catch a glimpse of the woods from your window. the snow fell, the trees waited for rebirth in spring and your eyes cast down to the red footprints that curved around the bakery. you frowned, returning to your mother who was busy giving carlos a basketful of bread and scones. he was taking a bite of your raspberry scone when you overheard your mother bragging about your baking skills,
"she might be a bit dull at times, forgive her, her father died when she was young, but her scones are the best! a true baker at heart, that she is." your mother smiled, bringing her arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a side-hug. you shrugged your shoulders, feeling as though the praise was a bit forced from her end. you averted your eyes to the floor when you noticed the red snow on his boots. your jaw dropped for a second,
"mother, his..." when your eyes traveled back up to his face, the hardened glare that you faced stunned you into silence and you bowed your head once more, getting a good look at the red snow that peppered his feet. something felt wrong inside you, as if this strange... creature - because in what world would a normal human have red snow under their boots - was a warning for you to quit baking and move to the center of town.
"well, we hope you have a nice day..." your mother shook you from your thoughts with her loud voice, and then she turned to face you, "don't forgot we need to save some food for your grandmother. you need to deliver it for tonight."
"t-tonight?" you squeaked out, shoulders sagging, "but it'll be dark! it's the woods! you heard what lady charlotte said!"
"oh, enough with the superstitions. you'll be fine! now, do me a favor and go outside to grab some more wood," she grabbed your coat from the table, the shining red being the only luxury you could ever afford and patted your back, signaling for you to leave the bakery. carlos had followed you out, lurking behind you. his eyes cast down to the cloak that veiled your body pretty well from him, a sight that he wasn't very fond of. he saw your tits pressed upwards due to how tight your corset was, your blood tasted sweet to him, he missed the tang of iron on his tongue and with hooded eyes, he saw you scampering over to the pile of wooden logs just on the side of the bakery. he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent from afar and imprinting it into his memory. he would need it for later and with a cruel smirk, he took a bite of your scone and walked off.
"remember, the only place you go to tonight is your grandmother's house. don't stop, walk fast but do not run," your mother instructed you as she adjusted your coat. it was around 9:00 at night, which was the time that your grandmother had asked for you to come. you were a bit late since you overslept your nap, so while you were whining "do i really have to go?" "can't we do this tomorrow morning?" your mother shut you up with a kiss to your cheek, and shoved the basket into your hands. with a raised finger she narrowed her eyes at you, "listen to me, ok? i know you've always hated listening to me, but you need to do it tonight. it's dangerous out in the woods-"
"didn't you say there's nothing in the woods to worry about?" you snapped, scowling at her. she rolled her eyes, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation,
"Oh, for pete's sake! just be careful in the woods! remember to keep walking, never run and never stop. just keep walking." with a final tug of your hood, she sent you off on your little journey, a prayer on her lips as she watched you walk out for the night. the entrance to the woods was enough for you to debate about running back home. the intertwined twigs, the roots reaching out to grab your ankles and the utter darkness that flooded the area. the moon was your only companion tonight, and it was sure doing a terrible job because you could barely see anything. you held the basket close to your chest and stepped forward, carefully making sure not to make any sound. the last thing you needed was for lady charlotte's words to be true; that creature should never find you... ever.
your eyes darted nervously around, the slightest brush of wind making your skin crawl. in the darkness, your eyes were alert to see anything suspicious, anything out of the ordinary that would put your life at risk and despite the calm air that surrounded you, you felt as if you were being watched. you pulled the cloak closer to your body, bringing the hood down to mask your eyes. standing still for too long would attract someone, or something in this case, and thanks to the vivid color that you adorned around your body, you weren't a target to miss that easily. you clutched onto your basket, hovering your foot over the ground before taking another step and then the snapping of a twig, made you freeze in your spot. the sound thundered through the quiet forest, and you whimpered to yourself in fear that you might've awakened the fearful beast that lady charlotte had mentioned earlier.
"hermosa, what are you wandering around for?" an accented voice called out to you. you spun around, dropping the basket in the process as your breathing became more labored, terror forcing you to stand still. the man from earlier in the day was leaning against a tree, arms crossed as his muscles strained against the shirt that he was donning. he raised an eyebrow at your silence, and snapped his fingers, "answer me. your mother did say you were a bit dull."
"m-my... grandmother," you responded, pointing off to the distance, "s-she lives here in the w-woods, 'm just going to deliver her a basket of food." your feet crushed on a scone and you shrieked in horror, trying to salvage what was left of the food that had been dropped to the ground in your state of shock. with the goods stashed back into your basket, he stalked over to where you stood and reached down into your basket to pull out a raspberry scone, his lips enveloping around the crust of the treat. he groaned at the taste,
"your mother was right about you, mi vida, you're a really good baker," he licks his lips, bringing his finger to swipe the jam into his mouth, sucking the delicacy off. his eyes flicker from his finger to your anxious expression, "i wish i could repay you for your treats, they taste so good, hermosa."
"w-well, I... I should leave now," you whispered, taking a step back and much to your horror, he followed you. you saw his hand dig through his pockets, pulling out a vial that he shook between his index finger and thumb, it was red and cloudy.
"at least having something to drink on your trip, no?" he kept pushing forwards, the vial kissing your bottom lip, "the apothecary gave it to me once as a surprise. it's nice from what i heard..." but as you stumbled over your feet to get away from him, you noticed his eyebrows furrowing, lips turning into a frown.
keep walking. don't run. just walk.
you trudged forward, turning your back to him and speeding up your pace but you could hear his footsteps chasing after you. slow, hard thumps. each step shook the ground beneath you, and before you knew it he clasped his hand around your mouth. you screamed, wriggling under his grasps as his hand squeezed your jaw, desperate to get your mouth to open. your hands flew to release yourself from his grip, but his hand just wouldn't relent. he bit into the cork of the vial, spitting it out behind him and shoving the tip of the vial down your throat to let the liquid drain. it burned, your eyesight blurred with the tears that flowed down your cheeks. he shoved you onto the ground, yanking the cloak off your trembling frame. when you hear the jingling of an unbuckling belt, you're about to scream once more when he cussed out loud and took off running. you watched him try to avoid the moonlight that now shifted to where he ran off, and you swore you saw big meaty paws tread through the ground. was it... was it the werewolf lady charlotte mentioned? was he the beast you were fearing this whole time? you felt the liquid's foreign taste still cling to your tongue, and you hesitantly got up to see the dent on the forest ground.
and there it was. the footprint the size of 7 scones, and you wailed at the sight of blood staining the print. you fled, grabbing the basket and heading to an unknown direction. with the way you were running, the contents of your basket flew out, leaving a little trail unbeknownst to you. you had to get to your grandmother's house. forget about what your mother said about walking, no you had to run! every corner that you turned made your heart beat louder, and soon your basket was abandoned. you wanted to go home, you wanted to leave the woods. this was all a mistake! why did you stop? why didn't you keep walking? at the sound of a piercing howl that cut through the silent air of the night, you fainted onto a small flower bed, unable to control the fear that consumed you.
a mistake that you later learned would cost you greatly.
when your eyes fluttered open a few hours later, you gazed up at the night sky, the moon was out to greet you as if to apologize for what a horrid night you were having. you whimpered at the way your body felt heavy, a strange warmth that creeped down your body, leaving you aching in a very strange way. you propped yourself up on your elbows, gazing down to see that your breasts were slightly enlarged, struggling at the edge of the corset. you frowned, feeling a strange sensation near your covered areolas - a wisp of dampness - and as much as you wanted to investigate your body's strange response to the environment, you figured undressing in the forest - especially with that monster around - would only make your situation much worse. with great effort, you stood up and almost fell onto the tree besides the flower bed, and grabbing the empty basket you struggled to walk towards the pathway that you saw. you just didn't understand why you felt so tired, your mind a foggy mess. you rubbed your eyes, yawning and blaming the lateness of the night for your behavior and kept going forward, remembering your mother's words. never run, never stop but always walk.
and then you saw it. the damned cottage. the reason behind all your sufferings. you scowled at the sight of it. you prayed the day of your grandmother's death so that you could sell this stupid place and never trek through the forest ever again. you hauled yourself up the front steps, still sore and incredibly sweaty - as you naively assumed - from the journey. you let your body rest on the front door for a small moment, and let out a small whine when the wooden surface brush against your clothed nipples. you felt delirious, yearning for something that you couldn't understand. your chest felt like it was on fire, and you barely had enough energy to even open the door. you screamed in frustration, banging the basket onto the door.
"grandmother! grandmother!" you bellowed, mouth hung open as you were panting, trying to understand what was wrong with you.
"come in!" a raspy voice called out to you, it was accented, but your poor mother was right all along: (y/n) (l/n) was dull headed, and with a mushy brain, there was no way she could make out her grandmother's voice clearly. you pushed the door open weakly, leaning against it once you had closed it firmly. you narrowed your eyes, the darkness of the night doing very little to help your vision. the moonlight shone from the window on the side, illuminating just the end of your grandmother's bed. you sighed out loud, plopping the basket at her feet,
"oh, grandmother!" you whined, "please leave this cottage! i had to go through so much. mother gave me so many treats, and... and i was being chased... i lost them all... I... oh!"
you threw your head back, tears falling from your eyes as your entire body felt like it was about to explode. you bit the inside of your cheek, just about ready to rip your corset and the shirt underneath off you. your hands clenched into fists and you slammed them onto the bed, right onto the feet of your grandmother. that was large. you frowned, glancing up to see the silhouette of her face.
"why grandmother! what large feet you have! did you break them, are they swollen?" you asked, genuine concern laced in your voice. you missed the way your grandmother shifted her position in the bed, trying to get friction somewhere that wasn't necessarily appropriate for an old lady such as herself. you walked around the bed, to the darker side where the moon wouldn't shine and saw the hands that crept out of the blankets.
"the better to travel to see you, my dear," your grandmother responded, and when she brought her hand up to brush the backside of it against your cheek, you frowned at the size of her hand.
"why grandmother! what large hands you have! when did they get so big? let me guess, arthritis?" you pressed further, and when your grandmother smiled, it felt as if she was barring her teeth, her canines sharper and pointier.
"the better to bake scones with you, my dear!" she responded, her voice dropping down to a low growl as her hand traveled down to rest right above your breasts, which had you whimpering, arching into the touch. you glanced back down to see the smile more prominent than ever,
"why grandmother! what big teeth you have!" you squeaked out, and with a harsh squeeze of your tits that made you squeal in oversensitivity, the being in front of you lets the covers of the bed fall to the ground to reveal themselves as none other than carlos. the very being you were running from.
"the better to eat you, mi zorra!" he roared, lunging at you. your screams were overshadowed by the way the bed snapped against the wall as he pounced onto you. he grabbed onto your ankle, tugging but you twist your body and kick him firmly in his face, ignoring the way your shoe cuts his lip. he hissed in pain, muttering curses in his language before grabbing onto your crawling frame, dragging your tits against the floor which left you sobbing, aching for some relief. hurling you onto the bed, he sat behind you and let each of his legs wrap around yours to hold you in place. on the right, where the moon shone through the window, you noticed his leg grow hairier, his hand - no paw - with jagged claws ripping the corset off you, along with the rest of your clothes. you're screaming, crying at how you want to go home and what happened to your grandmother. where even was she?
her rotting corpse outside, tossed into the pond, would never be found ever again.
the warmth of his paw along with the coolness of his hand made you let out a strangled moan as he began to grope your tits. your head thrown back onto the shoulder of his fur-covered side, as his thumb flicked over your sore, puffy nipples. you glanced down finally to see that this entire time you weren't sweating, you were leaking! milk oozing out of your nipples, and every time he'd squeeze harshly you'd moan out loud as he watched you spray the bed with your natural milk.
"Oh, mierda, this is working out better than I imagined," he grunted into your ear, and then he brought his hand down on your tits, slapping you with force. you sobbed, needing him to grab a handful of your swollen bosom, you can't stand this anymore. the fire is everywhere in your body, and with each blow, he laughed at the way your tits jiggled under his touch, the way your hips bucked. his paw, in the meantime, came towards your unattended tit and his claw circled your weeping nipple, and with a little bit of added pressure, you're silently screaming at the pleasure you're feeling. it's too much for you, all too much for you to handle! he flipped you over to your back, standing on the side of his bed as he fully returned to his human form at the darkness and he grabbed hold of your jaw, "kicking me, screaming into my ears, thrashing around... every other prey was so much easier, but you? what a fucking pain."
he spat at your face, letting the saliva rest on your cheek as he slapped your tits firmly. you sobbed out loud, begging him to end your suffering, to let you go. his dark chuckles did little to satisfy your pleas, and instead he harshly gropes your tits, sticking his tongue out to catch the stream of milk that spurt out of you. he licked his lips, head thrown backwards, "es tan perfecto, tastes so good."
he raised an eyebrow, looking down at your writhing body and he let his thumb rub into a drop of you milk before rolling your nipple around, "imagine being able to have this milk to myself... all the time. it's expensive, princesa, having to buy the formula secretly. right when everyone wants to fucking kill me."
your mind can't comprehend his words, too far gone in pleasure and still yearning for more. your tits still feel full, they still feel heavy and with parted lips, you moaned about what was going on, what even happened. how did you even end up here? carlos smirked, leaning his head forward to wrap his mouth around your areolas, beginning to suck. that was all that needed for your questions to simmer down for the moment, the room only flooded with your incoherent moans and whines. he sucked and squeezed, biting down on your nipple and letting his teeth sink into the fat of your tit, enough to draw a bit of blood. his tongue lapped at it, murmuring against your skin how your blood tasted so good at the bakery, that he just knew he needed to have you.
"and i will, because i always get what i want," he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. he grabbed you by the back of your neck, tossing you onto the floor where the moonlight decorated it with fervor. you could hear the faint sounds of undressing and when you opened your eyes, you saw him transform into the creature that horrified you. the wolf got down to his knees, and your eyes drifted down to his cock that was visibly throbbing, leaking pre-cum just for you. your head fell back onto the floor, your mind already shutting down because nothing seemed to make sense. this had to be a horrible dream, there was no other explanation. he yanked your body closer to him, spreading your legs as his massive tongue dragged over your cunt. you bucked your hips into the air, demanding for more and he continued, rolling your clit around before letting his tongue invade your precious hole. his fangs grazed against the inside of your thigh, and every time it did so, the fear flood into you and in short bursts of 5 seconds, you had enough consciousness to push his head away. weak attempts as they were, but he could clearly hear your cries.
"n-no, please... stop i can't take it anymore!" you hoarsely whined by the time he brought you to your 4th orgasm just on his tongue. his tongue exists your swollen cunt, trailing up to your tits and circling around your hardened peaks that continued to leak. he brought his massive head down to suck once more and you're holding your breath, praying he doesn't bite your tits off. and for the first time since he transformed into a wolf, his deep guttural voice finally spoke up,
"the finest milk to feed the pups i'll put in your belly," his words rang in your ear, and you tried to sit up but his paw pushed you back down, his fangs on display as his muzzle pressed against your neck, a silent warning for you to try and refuse his desire to breed you. he cock slid against your folds, almost teasing you and seeing if you'll deny him. if you'll shove him away. but considering you're too fucked out at the moment to do anything, you watch helplessly as his paws hold onto your hips and he enters you in one swift thrust, burying himself as far your body can allow him. you arch your back at the stretch, the air being knocked out of your lungs. you let out a choked scream, as you felt every thick, pulsing inch of his cock being shoved into you, spreading you open and filling you entirely. your slick cunt clenched around the intrusion, struggling to accommodate its girth. he snarled in feral pleasure, relishing the feel of your silken gummy walls gripping him like a vice. he started to move, his hips pumping as he fucked into you with deep, pounding strokes. the force of his thrusts rocked your entire body, your heavy, leaking tits bouncing and swaying with each impact. lewd sounds filled the air - the slap of flesh on flesh, the squelch of your dripping cunt being plowed, and the wolf's grunts as he wanted to ruin you every other man.
"oh, hermosa, imagine your belly all round and swollen, carrying my pups. your tits leaking to feed them. you'd be like this for the rest of your life, stuffed with my cum and so beautiful, no?" he growled, before laughing at the tears streaming down your face at his words. the reality of the situation was dawning on you. yet, the pleasure was the only thing you could focus on, and you let out another strangled moan which he took as confirmation. his claws dug into the soft flesh of your rear, leaving red crescent marks as he gripped you tighter, pounding into you harder.
"w-where was i going? what... what, oh! what was i coming here for?" you weakly asked through moans. everything was a blur, you couldn't remember how you got here, you couldn't even remember your life before this very moment. everything only revolved around his cock hammering into you at an ungodly pace.
"mi vida, you were on your way to meet me!" he chuckled, before grunting at the way your pussy clenched around him.
"b-but the b-basket... the..."
"they were all for me! you were going to treat me first before letting me breed you, hermosa! such a good girl for me," he grinned, fangs shining under the moonlight. thick strands of your arousal splattered with each unforgiving pump of his hips, coating his fur with your juices. your pussy clenched and fluttered around his pistoning cock, milking it greedily as if trying to coax out its creamy load. you were screaming, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continued to drill his member further into you, and as his thrusts became more erratic, he came shortly after with a loud growl making sure to continue his thrusts so that not even one drop of his cum seeped out of you. every drop counted to him. you whimpered when he pulled out, only to roll you onto your stomach, ass positioned into the air.
"we are far from done, i will stuff you with my cum again and again and again until i see your belly growing with my pups," he slapped your ass as emphasis, rejoicing in your whimpers.
when your worrying mother woke up the next morning eagerly waiting for your arrival, she opened the bakery door only to be met with disappointment once again. she knew you were foolish enough to have gotten yourself killed in the woods, but there had to still be a chance that you were alive and well. she sighed, letting her eyes fall onto the snow and her foot touched something unexpected. she scowled, eyes snapping downwards to see a very particular thing.
a raspberry scone spread apart, the red jam oozing out.
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Gunpowder and Lace - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)
Follow up piece to:
Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare
Synopsis: Determined to level the playing field, you take The Salesman to places he's never been
A/N: I honestly don't know who i become when i write for this man, this piece is unhinged and i regret nothing. I also know this character never has his real name revealed, but for the purposes of the storyline, I had to make one up.
This fic is also inspired by the insanity that is this gif:
He was desperate to be back in control. That night in the restaurant had taken him by surprise, had left his mind reeling. You’d left him lying there on the floor like yesterday’s trash, saying goodbye without a second glance back at him. You’d humiliated him, left him to clean himself up and hastily pay the bill before he was found naked on the floor, shaking from pleasure and rage. No one had treated him like this before, no had ever been this bold before. The women he’d played with in the past, they’d always been scared him; but not you. You seemed to enjoy this torture, seemed to enjoy being pushed. He was sure the meal would break you, but it only seemed to make you stronger.
He was so desperate to regain control that he almost didn’t notice that he was losing it entirely. He’d never invited anyone to his home before, and the day after your meal together he turned up at your apartment to bring you over. He’d tried to convince himself that it would be easier to have you under his control if he had you somewhere he was familiar with, but he was fooling himself. He’d given up sitting out on the park bench now, his desire to be with you far outweighing his desire to watch you like a predator watches its prey. You no longer went to the coffee shop either, instead marking your student’s work at his home. He had tried to convince himself that it was another way to keep you in line, to keep you away from a world where you could wonder away from him at any time. But you seemed to enjoy being in his home, stretched out on his sofa as your worked, acting as if he didn’t exist. He wanted to be angry with you, but he couldn’t. He wondered if he was somehow broken. The aloofness he had once possessed was gone around you. He found himself seeking your attention, trying to distract you while you worked. But you never rose to the bait, never gave him the satisfaction he so desperately craved. One evening, as you worked late into the night on a presentation, he’d grown tired of waiting for you.
“I’m busy,” you told him, when he came searching for your touch. Your words felt like a slap, a punch in his gut that left him floored. “You’re getting awfully mouthy with me,” he snapped back. He could feel himself losing him cool; why weren’t you scared of him? Why were you so unfazed by him? Was he losing his touch? Perhaps he wasn’t enough for you anymore. That last thought scared him, and he wasn’t used to being scared. He ended up on his knees in front of you, his tongue lapping desperate circles around the sensitive nub of your clit. The moans he elicited from you were heavenly, his fingers working your soft, tight core. Your thighs tightened around his face as you came, your cries of pleasure echoing off his expansive walls. He was sure he’d got your attention, was sure you wouldn’t be able to resist him, but you went right back to your work, leaving him on his knees like a dog.
You knew exactly what you were doing, of course. You didn’t like acting so cold towards him, but you were tired of knowing nothing about him when he knew so much about you. You were intrigued, if a little shocked, when he invited you into his home but could find nothing that would give you any clue as to who this man was. You could feel your lust turning into something more, but you didn’t even know his name, and it was beginning to drive you crazy. You decided to try and beat him at his own game, to try and push him like he pushed you. You hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the steak incident; you’d been sick for days after, but something kept you coming back. You recognised the feelings you were beginning to have for him, but you couldn’t fully allow yourself to break down the walls. All relationships needed an equal amount of giving and taking though, and it was time he learned that.
“Tell me your name,” you whispered one night, your nails dragging down his chest and torso as he writhed against his mattress. You’d bested him again, beaten him at his own game. What had started as a desire to show you that he was still in charge, had ended up with him handcuffed to his bed while you delivered the most delicious punishments. Your tongue, lips and teeth explored his body, your silk negligee brushing against his flushed skin. The mix of silk, soft kisses and sharp teeth were agonisingly blissful, and he found himself slipping further and further into your grip. “Just tell me your name,” you repeated, “and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
What was it that he wanted though? This whole thing had started as a game for him, just another girl he could use to entertain himself until he ultimately got bored of you. But somewhere along the line, it had gone horribly wrong. He wasn’t bored of you, far from it. He craved your attention, your validation. Your hands skimmed his lower stomach, purposely avoiding his stiff, leaking cock. He whimpered, a sound he’d never made before, and he knew in that instant he was done for.
“Let’s try something else then, shall we?” You smiled. You’d get him to tell you his name, consequences be damned. You knew that once he’d recovered, once he’d regained his usual controlling façade that you’d pay for this. You didn’t mind though; you’d take whatever punishment he dolled out if he would just tell you his name.
You knew he kept a gun in his bedside table, had seen the flsh of the black metal as he opened it one night. You’d grown up clay pigeon shooting as a child and teen, and a handgun couldn’t be that different from a rifle, could it? You’d removed the bullets while he’d been in the bathroom, setting the gun back carefully in its place. He didn’t need know you’d taken them out, but you couldn’t help but feel that accidentally firing it might spoil the fun a little.
Pulling the drawer open, you carefully removed the gun, the weapon heavy and cold in your hand. You saw his eyes light up, heard the guttural growl fall from his lips as he pulled at his restraints. His chest rose and fell heavily, his body shaking with anticipation. He was enjoying this.
You dragged the barrel of the gun slowly up his leg, his stomach, and across his chest. “Open your mouth,” you instructed. He did as he was told, so eager. You slid the gun slowly into his mouth, relishing in the pathetic little whimpers that fell from him. Your free hand trailed back down his stomach, before coming to a stop at the base of his cock. A single nail dragged up its length, your eyes never leaving his as he squirmed against your touch. “Tell me,” you repeated, tutting when he shook his head. Your hand gripped the base of him, working his shaft slowly and deliberately, watching his reaction as he neared the brink. Just when you felt him start to shake, just before he reached the edge of ecstasy, you pulled you hand away.
He screamed something at you, but you couldn’t tell what it was; the gun muffled his voice. “It’s just your name,” you sighed, “that’s all I want. Give me what I want, and I’ll let you punish me for my disobedience.” Your hand began to stroke him once more, your thumb circling the top of his cock as he pulled against the handcuffs.
He couldn’t take it much more, the desire to fall apart for you was overwhelming, bordering on painful. He’d tell you his bank account details if you asked, anything to get you to give him what he needed. “Park Jin-Tae!” he cried, his words muffled by the cold metal in this mouth. “What was that?” you smiled, removing the gun enough so he could speak clearly. “Park Jin-Tae,” he repeated. “My name is Park Jin-Tae.” “Good boy,” you winked. He’d told you what you wanted to know; you wouldn’t tease him any longer. You placed the gun back on the bedside table, lowering your mouth to his aching cock. You’d barely placed your lips around him before he emitted a strangled cry, losing himself completely as he spilled his seed down your throat.
He’d given you a piece of himself, a part of him that he had kept hidden from the world for longer than he could remember. As you unhandcuffed him and kissed him tenderly on his lips, he so badly wanted to be angry with you. But as he looked into your eyes, his chest ached in the most beautiful way possible. His heart raced, his stomach flipped, he craved your touch, your skin against his. He knew in that moment he’d lost the game. He wasn’t in control anymore, you were. Maybe you had been the whole time. He’d spent his entire life feeling nothing for anyone, treating people as toys he could play with and throw away. But from the moment he met you, his body had ached for you, every atom of his being craved you. He was a fool to think he’d ever been in charge.
“Park Jin-Tae,” you smiled, kneeling before him with your hands behind your back. “I’ll let you punish me now.” You looked so beautiful, so perfect. As he slipped the handcuffs onto your wrists, bending your delicate body over his knee, he brought his hand down against the skin of your ass hard. Your cry of pleasure was irresistible, but tonight he’d make you shed tears.
Yes, he would punish you. Punish you for making him fall in love.
#squid game#squid game 2#squid game x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game x you#squid game smut#squid game season 2#the salesman x reader#gong yoo#the salesman fanfic#the salesman squid game#the salesman x you#the salesman smut#the salesman
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ramen & fate | boo seungkwan
SUMMARY: in which you meet a rich guy at the convenience store during a late night ramen run.
PAIRING: chaebol!seungkwan x reader
THEMES: strangers to lovers, meet cute kinda
WARNINGS: fluff, use of curse words
WORDCOUNT: 2.4k
A/N: @wheeboo happy birthday my love! this is a little gift from me to you! this is such a silly idea but i thought i'd write it out for you and i hope you like it <3
you walk into the convenience store and walk inside and the faint sound of pop music hums from the speakers overhead, blending with the quiet hum of the refrigerators in the back. you barely notice any of it though because your mission is clear - ramen. you really needed a ramen fix right now.
you make a beeline for the ramen aisle, the craving gnawing at you and nothing else would do now, not after the day you've had. there's a strange comfort in that little cup of noodles, in its simplicity, in the way it tastes exactly how you expected it to. your eyes scan the shelves and you spot your favourite ramen, only to find one left on the shelf. you immediately reach for it without a second thought, but so does someone else.
your fingers brush against another hand, and you pause, startled. your eyes follow the hand, trailing up a crisp white sleeve, past a perfectly tailored suit jacket, until they land on the face of the man reaching for the same cup of ramen. he’s tall so you have to tilt your head slightly to meet his gaze. his expression is cool, almost unreadable, his jawline sharp and sleek, his styled hair making him look like he just walked off the set of some corporate drama.
"oh," you say, blinking as your hand hovers over the cup.
he looks down at you, his brows lifting slightly as if in mild surprise, but he doesn’t immediately pull his hand back. "looks like we’ve got the same taste," he says, his voice smooth.
you blink at him and wrack your brain for a response before you let out a nervous laugh. "well, it is the best one", you reply as you look at him.
he smirks faintly, tilting his head. "i agree, but there’s only one left."
there’s a pause, the moment stretching out as both of you keep your hands over the cup of ramen and suddenly this feels like some sort of high-stakes negotiation situation.
"i—uh—had a long day," you say, trying to justify your claim, though you immediately feel silly for doing so. "i really need this ramen".
his smirk softens into something resembling amusement. "and you think i don’t?", he counters, raising a brow at you. "i’ve had back-to-back meetings since seven this morning", he says.
"well, i’ve been running around non-stop too", you protest, your grip on the edge of the shelf tightening. his gaze flickers between you and the ramen before he exhales, and lets out a small resigned sigh and to your surprise, he takes his hand away.
"alright," he says, stepping back slightly. "you win, take it", he says as his hand swings down. "really? thanks," you say, though your tone is cautious, like you’re not entirely sure this isn’t some kind of trick.
he gives you a small nod, then glances at his watch, grabbing a different ramen from the shelf and walking to a different aisle without sparing you another glance. you blink, a little confused but get about on your mission to get the ramen. you grab a few more stuff, some kimbap and something to drink and make your way to the cash counter when you spot the man in the suit again.
"i'm sorry sir, but i don't have change for such a big bill", you hear the worker say. "unless you buy items for that amount, i don't really have a way to give you back your change", the worker continues.
you walk front and put your stuff on the counter. "i'll pay for his stuff", you say and he looks at you.
"i've got it, i'm sure i have smaller bills somewhere", he says as he pulls out his wallet and your eyes nearly pop out with the fat wad of cash you see in it, all big bills. what the fuck. you decide to ignore what you just saw and by the time the man in the suit is digging his wallet, you've already paid for your stuff, his included.
you take your things and towards the corner of the store to cook your ramen. once the ramen is done, you take a seat and that's when the man in the suit appears again. he’s got his own ramen cup in hand, the sleeve of his tailored suit pushed up slightly to reveal an expensive looking watch. he moves methodically, peeling back the lid of his ramen cup and pouring in the hot water with a steady hand, there's no hesitation and no fumbling. he catches your gaze, and you quickly look away, suddenly very interested in your own noodles. you can feel his eyes on you for a moment, but then he goes back to his ramen, silent and composed. you sneak another glance at him and think to yourself - he is pretty handsome.
you’re halfway through your noodles, the warm broth hitting just the right spot on a cold night before you hear the shuffle of footsteps coming towards you.
"mind if i sit?" he asks, his voice smooth and you nod. he sits down with a kind of effortless grace, setting his ramen down in front of him and adjusting his sleeves like he’s dining at a michelin-star restaurant instead of a dingy convenience store. you focus on your noodles, hoping he won’t notice the way your gaze keeps flickering back to him and you watch as he stirs his ramen and takes a bite.
"you didn’t have to pay for my stuff, you know," he says after a bite, breaking the silence.
"it’s not a big deal," you reply with a shrug. "maybe you should carry smaller bills next time", you tell and you can see the faint smile on his face.
"i swear i thought i had change on me", he says, rather to himself.
"doesn’t seem like you need to worry about it," you remark before you can stop yourself. “i mean, with a wallet like that.”
his smile widens slightly, and he leans back in his chair, resting an elbow casually on the table. "appearances can be deceiving," he says, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent you can’t quite place.
you raise an eyebrow. "right, and expensive suits and fat wads of cash are just a camouflage?", you ask.
"something like that," he replies, and there’s a glimmer in his eyes now like he’s enjoying this back and forth talk, like he's amused by you.
you huff out a soft laugh as you shake your head. "well, next time you’re low on change, i suggest hitting the ATM before wandering into a convenience store", you tell and he nods.
"noted," he says, and there’s a warmth to his voice now.
"i’d like to pay you back", he says after a moment, but you shake your head.
"that's not necessary," you reply, waving a dismissive hand. "it’s just ramen", you say.
and he just looks at you, and it looks like he wants to say something more, but he settles for giving you a small smile instead. "alright, if you’re sure".
after finishing his meal, he gathers his things, straightens his perfectly tailored suit and offers you a polite, "thanks again," before leaving.
you think that’s the last you’ll see of him, until you notice something on the table, his sleek black leather wallet, the kind that practically screams expensive. your eyes widen as your hands reach out for it and you mutter under your breath.
grabbing the wallet, you flip it open and find a few crisp bills (all large denominations, of course), some credit cards and a single business card tucked inside, but there's no name, just a logo and a phone number. you hesitate for a moment before you decide to call the number, but it goes straight to voicemail.
for the next few days, you keep the wallet with you, figuring he’ll eventually call back or text or come looking for it, but nothing. it’s not until a few days later, when you’re rushing through a crowded sidewalk with a bag of groceries in one hand and your phone in the other, that fate decides to intervene. you’re trying to balance too many things at once, not paying attention to where you’re going, when you collide hard into someone coming from the opposite direction. the impact sends your phone clattering to the ground and your grocery bag spilling open. "oh, come on!" you groan, crouching to pick up your things.
"sorry about that", a familiar voice says, and you freeze mid-reach.
you glance up to see him, the ramen guy, in his perfectly tailored suit guy, crouching down to help. he looks as polished as ever, his suit immaculate despite the chaos of the street and he notices you at the same time, and his eyes widen slightly.
"you," he says, clearly surprised.
"you," you reply, just as surprised. "i've been looking for you, you left this", you say after you've gathered all your groceries and stand up. you dig into your bag and bring out his wallet, handing it over to him.
his expression shifts. "i didn’t even realize it was missing until yesterday, but by then, i figured it was gone for good", he says as he looks at you.
"well, lucky for you i found it,” you say as you hold it out for him. he takes it from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly, and his smile softens. “you have no idea how much this means, thank you", he says
"you’re welcome," you reply and he looks down at the wallet in his hand, then back at you.
“i owe you, again", he says. "let me buy you dinner, it's the least i can do, please", he asks and you blink, caught off guard.
"dinner? that's...", you trail off as you chew on your lip, considering his offer. "but you don't even know me?", you say, unsure.
"i'll take my chances", he says, a small smile playing on his lips.
“alright,” you say, nodding. “dinner sounds nice.”
the smile that spreads across his face is slow and warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds and it softens his polished, professional look, making him seem boyish almost.
"i didn't get your name", you ask.
"i'm seungkwan", he says, holding out his hand and you reach for it, shaking it, the warmth of his hand engulfing you. "yn", you say, giving him a small smile.
you both exchange numbers and you head home, and it's only then that you wonder if he'll actually follow through. and a few days later, your phone buzzes with a text from him.
ramen guy: this is seungkwan, does friday evening work for dinner? let me know what time works for you.
you reply quickly and his response comes almost immediately.
ramen guy: perfect, i’ll take care of everything, looking forward to it.
when friday arrives, you find yourself standing in front of the address he sent—a restaurant that looks like it was plucked straight from a luxury travel magazine. the building is sleek and modern, its glass walls shimmering in the golden hour light. your nerves spike as you step through the grand entrance and suddenly you're thinking that this must be some kind of joke, that he must have sent you the wrong address by mistake because holy shit, you could barely afford this place. a host greets you with a warm smile when you walk inside. “you must be here for mr. boo seungkwan” they say, their tone polite but knowing. boo seungkwan?
the person guides you towards a private dining room and it's a beautifully set table near the window that overlooks the city skyline. you spot him waiting there and he stands up the moment he spots you, a smile lighting up his face.
he was wearing an all-black suit, and it was perfect for him, tailored to perfection, the fit making him incredibly handsome and attractive and the fit made him look effortlessly sophisticated, yet there was an ease to his posture that made him seem grounded. his dark hair was styled just enough to look intentionally tousled, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. there was something about the way he carried himself, confident but not cocky, poised but not stiff. his smile was the same: genuine and unpretentious, like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, yet somehow, in that black suit, he couldn’t help but leave an impression.
“you made it,” he says, his tone warm as he steps forward to pull out your chair for you. "yeah", you say softly, still trying to take in the posh ambience around you.
as the evening unfolds, you’re surprised by how easy he is to talk to. he’s incredibly down-to-earth and he listens intently, laughs at your jokes, and is just so sweet, a complete gentleman. his genuine interest in you, paired with his relaxed nature, made the evening feel warm and comfortable and didn't make you feel intimidated anymore.
“so, what exactly do you do?”, you ask, looking at him.
he hesitates for a moment, then shrugs lightly. “family business,” he says, clearly trying to downplay it. “it’s not that exciting.”
"so what exactly is this family business?", you ask but seungkwan only chuckles softly in response. "it's not as cool as you think. let’s just say it's a lot of paperwork, meetings, and business stuff", he makes an exaggerated motion of his hands like he was emphasizing the mundanity of it all. the date ends on a good note and he even offers to drop you home, but you decline, not wanting to impose on him anymore.
it isn’t until days later, when you’re scrolling through your phone that you stumble across an article and you realize just who he is.
heir to the boo family conglomerate, boo seungkwan spotted at his newest restaurant with someone: who’s the mystery guest?
your jaw drops as your eyes scan the article, which details his family’s massive business empire—including restaurant chains, luxury hotels, and even media companies. the photo accompanying the article shows him stepping out of the very restaurant where you had dinner with him, wearing the same outfit he had that evening, looking effortlessly handsome and polished as always.
and just then your phone buzzes with a new message from him at that exact moment:
ramen guy: i hope you enjoyed the dinner last time. let me know when you’re free again, i owe you another one.
taglist: @joshuaahong @paindivinemp3 @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852
@weird-bookworm @mirxzii @naaaaafla @wheeboo @icyminghao
@lvlystars @gyubakeries @wootify @ihrtboo @n4mj00nvq
@yoozuku
#skye's writing!#caratlibrary#k-labels#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen drabbles#seventeen soft hours#svt imagines#svt ff#skye thoughts#svt fluff#svt fanfic#svt scenarios#svt x reader#seungkwan imagines#seungkwan fluff#seungkwan x reader
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i need more loser!heeseung after reading that oh my gosh . yes yes yes yes. #needhim #needthat
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ LO$ER = LO♡ER
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, headcanon, WC; 2.7k, WARNING(S); mildly suggestive (what’s heeseung supposed to do when you’re so hot?), A/N; your wish is my command. i absolutely love loser!heeseung. it's a need. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso @hollyoongs @hoonieyun }
loser!heeseung was excited. so excited. why you may ask? because you agreed to go to anime con with him. you even suggested that the two of you cosplay. you asked to go as lucy and david from cyberpunk edgerunners, something that fit the aesthetic you two had built. so, heeseung checked himself out in the mirror, fumbling with the yellow jacket you sewed for him and fixing the pieces of his hair that fell out.
“baby, i think we’re gonna be late if we don’t head out n—”
you came out in your outfit as you adjusted the belt resting on your hip. heeseung didn’t have any words. you looked… gosh, how could he describe you without being weird? you were beautiful, even on the days you didn’t feel it. but… right now? heeseung felt ashamed to say that he understood all those nasty guys thirsting over cosplayers. holy crap, he hit the lotto. you were a vision.
“hee? do i look weird? i wasn’t sure about the wig either,” you pouted as you touched the long white strand.
“no!” heeseung shouted, then cleared his throat. “you look really good.”
you smiled and walked up to him, checking out the two of you in the mirror. “you also look very handsome. we make a good lucy and david, huh?”
your eyes glanced at heeseung through the mirror and noticed he was still looking at you with his mouth agape. you turned to him and waved your hand in front of his face. “hee?”
as he kept staring at you, you shifted. you couldn’t help but blush under his gaze. heeseung gulped. how was he going to keep all those creepy guys away from you? he can’t even fight! he’d have to cover you up! but then he wouldn’t get to look at you in this… this outfit.
you softly planted a kiss on his cheek and that brought him out of his daze. his ears were bright red when he stepped away from you.
“i— uh. um. we— you—” he stuttered, unable to form a coherent thought.
a giggle escaped you at his lack of words. you did a little spin for him. man, heeseung couldn’t help his eyes drifting down at the cutouts on your hips and how short your—no! stop objectifying her. bad heeseung. that is your lovely girlfriend, who you love very much and who, for some odd reasons, loves you too.
“hee,” you interrupted, your lashes lowering—wow, you looked ready to eat him. “i thought we were gonna be late?”
you crept up to him, your hand ghosting over his arm. you pressed into him. “i mean, we don’t have to go. i just thought you wanted—”
you didn’t end up going, by the way. your couple’s cosplay never saw the light of day. instead, they were scattered on your bedroom floor.
loser!heeseung didn’t know how to feel when you asked to play d&d with him. while he said yes (because he’d never say no to you), he was admittedly nervous. what if you thought he was a big nerd and wanted to leave him? what if you hated how he dm’d (dungeon master)? well, it was too late now. you guys were on your way to jeongin’s apartment.
contray to heeseung’s overthinking, you were excited. you finally got to experience one of heeseung’s favorite pastimes. you didn’t really understand the whole thing, but you were open to it! you did some late-night research and built your own little character. she was an eladrin sage druid at level 6. heeseung made sure to let you know that you’d be thrown right into the middle of this campaign and that all the other characters were at level 6.
when you guys arrived at the door, jeongin threw it open and you were taken aback. he was in full costume, armor and all. apparently, jeongin was also taken aback. he didn’t think you were actually coming.
“oh! uh, welcome to my apartment, y/n!” he stepped aside to let you and heeseung in. inside, you saw unfamiliar faces who were also in costume. jeongin pulled heeseung aside and whispered. “i didn’t think you were serious when you said that y/n was coming! and where’s your costume?”
heeseung gave him an apologetic look. “dude, i’m sorry. you know i can’t say no to her. and i didn’t want to overwhelm her before we even left the apartment.”
jeongin sighed. “you better still dm the same with the voices and everything. and no preferential treatment!”
heeseung nodded and went to sit by you. you leaned into him and whispered. “i feel incredibly underdressed. did you know they were going to dress up?”
he rubbed the back of his neck. “we usually do for every session.”
you pouted and looked him up and down. “i would’ve tried dressing up too if i knew! where’s your costume?”
oh, how heeseung loved you. you didn’t even bat an eye that they were all losers that liked to play dress up on a weekly basis. you were just put out that you weren’t told.
“i didn’t wanna pressure you when it’s your first time,” heeseung said, patting your knee. usually, heeseung would kiss your pout away, but he was in a room full of friends who were very blatantly staring at you.
a throat cleared, drawing heeseung’s attention towards jeongin. in a (poor) scottish accent, jeongin said. “dungeon master, the fellowship awaits ye!”
heeseung nodded and pulled out his notes for the campaign. when you tried to peek, he immediately leaned away, keeping the notebook shut. “the people in the campaign can’t see this,” he said.
understanding, you stopped trying to look. you just pulled out your phone with your character sheet on it. jeongin paused in his seat. “oh, y/n, did you need to build your character first? we can wait for you,” jeongin said in his normal voice.
you shook your head and waved your phone. “i built one in d&d beyond! i came prepared, sort of?”
now, jeongin didn’t have much opinion on you other than that you were heeseung’s really hot girlfriend. but, after seeing how you tried to prepare, he could say that he liked you.
once everyone settled down, heeseung resumed the campaign. it amazed you how he was able to switch between all those voices, acting out the npcs of the quest. the way you were staring at him intently made heeseung unusually nervous.
whenever his eyes shifted over to you, his dialogue faltered for a sec before he continued. he interacted with the others of the campaign before coming to a point in the story where you could hop in. you put on a proper english accent, trying to sound as much like arwen from lord of the rings (you watched it countless times with heeseung). if no one else was in the room right now, heeseung would’ve died from your cuteness. a part of him was geeking out right now. his girlfriend, the love of his life, was playing d&d with him. what did he do in his past life to deserve this?
then came the fights. as he narrated, his friends rolled on their turns, fighting against the monsters that heeseung created. when it came to your turn, you looked a bit out of your depth. you were scrolling through moves in the d&d index to see which ones you could do. everyone was thankfully patient with you.
“i use a 3rd level spell slot and call upon lightning to strike the monster closest to jeongin?” you commanded unsurely.
heeseung leaned over, careful to not expose any notes. “baby, you’re gonna hit jeongin with that spell and you gotta reference his character, not him. that spell has a damage radius of 5 feet. the monster is only 3 feet away from him.”
you deflated as you scrolled through your list of spells. you turned your phone to heeseung, showing him the spell you wanted to use instead. “can i use flame arrows instead?”
heeseung could just die from how cute you were. he shook his head and scrolled through your list and clicked on wind wall. “you can use this one and surround the monster. it’ll take bludgeoning damage once the wall forms, regardless of his strength saving throw.”
you nodded and got back into character. you acted as if you were really putting a wind wall up and commanded more confidently. “i erect a wind wall around the monster and separate him from thralladin.”
heeseung got back to dm’ing and rolled his dice, falling short for a saving throw. he took note of the damage and continued everyone else’s turn. the night was fun! heeseung couldn’t believe how quickly you picked it up or how into it you were. at the end of the night, when everyone was leaving, jeongin pulled him aside again. “dude, y/n’s actually cool.”
pride swelled in heeseung’s chest. you managed to get the okay from his friend, not that it really affected how he felt for you. you two said your goodbyes to jeongin and walked home. you were filled with excitement for the next session. “what kind of clothes should i get for illanaria? i’m thinking white robes with some sheer drapes to add a bit of flair. i really need to study up on my spells so i don’t keep wasting time scrolling through the index. should i also get a notebook?”
just when heeseung didn’t think he could fall for you any harder, you proved him wrong.
loser!heeseung has met your parents, but in passing. however, today was a dinner meant to force—he means give a chance (don’t tell y/n he said that)—him to talk to your parents in length.
“don’t be nervous! my mom’s loved you since high school!”
ya, it’s not your mom he’s worried about. your dad on the other hand? what was he even going to talk about with him? football? heeseung could barely understand the sport. home improvement? he always needed your help to build ikea furniture. there wasn’t much he could do to gain some points with your dad. he just prayed that he wouldn’t hate him too much.
after 4 years (you recently celebrated your anniversary!) of being together, heeseung was finally going to talk to your dad. no more small talk while he waits for you to come down. he was actually going to have to make conversation with your father. if his phone didn’t tell him how cold it was, he’d think it was summer with how he was sweating.
the door swung open to reveal your mom, who looked as jovial and vibrant as ever. “kids! come in, come in. it’s freezing out there. that stupid global warming is really messing with the temperature.”
heeseung greeted her warmly, awkwardly accepting her bear hug while balancing the mac n’ cheese in his right hand. she pulled away and gasped. “you brought your famous mac n’ cheese! y/n’s been raving about this ever since she had it. i can’t wait to try it!”
when she rushed off to set it on the dinner table, your dad appeared with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. he peered up at heeseung, since heeseung was slightly taller, and stared at him for a moment.
“so… you brought mac n’ cheese,” your dad said plainly.
heeseung laughed nervously. “i hope that’s okay?”
when your dad didn’t say anything for a second, you slapped his chest. “dad, stop intimidating him!”
your dad cracked a smile before ruffling your hair. “alright, sweetheart.” he clapped heeseung on the back and grinned. “i love mac n’ cheese! dinner’s almost ready, so make yourself feel at home!”
wow, he was a lot less intimidating than heeseung remembered. he thought back to all those moments in high school and wondered if your dad was just pretending to be stoic. your dad guided him to the dinner table before entering the kitchen again. as he moved around, your mom leaned forward. “so, heeseung, when are you going to ask my daughter to marry you?”
you choked on your water, water spraying out of the side of your mouth. heeseung quickly offered you a napkin and patted you on the back. you wiped your mouth and glared at your mom. “mom, that is not one of the preapproved questions. actually, i explicitly said you and dad can’t bring up anything about marriage.”
your mom tsked and pouted. “honey, you’ve been dating for so long. it’s a natural question.”
before you could protest, your dad brought over the rack of lamb, fresh from the oven. he placed it in the center and took off his gloves, kissing the top of your head afterwards. “your mother is just excited to have a son-in-law that can cook. you talk about him all the time. sue her for being curious.”
you talked about him with your parents? you glared up at your dad. “we haven’t even talked about that yet. i wonder why? oh ya, because we’re still in college!”
your dad raised his arms in surrender. “hey, i asked your mom to marry me when we were 16.”
“to which i said no,” your mom playfully jabbed. “we were far too young.”
“we’re also too young,” you grumbled, leaning into heeseung’s side. he wrapped his arms around your shoulder. he hoped your parents didn’t look at him too closely. his blush was probably covering his whole face. he didn’t realize your parents were also high school sweethearts.
“you also rejected dad until you were in college, anyway,” you added, clasping your hand with heeseung’s. ah, so not high school sweethearts.
when your dad settled beside your mom, she patted him on the chest. “he wasn’t always the hunk you see now.”
“okay, that was gross. can we eat now?” you groaned. your dad started making a plate and handed it to your mom. heeseung should also probably do this for you. he pulled away from you and started making your plate, avoiding the deviled eggs and piling on the mac n’ cheese. when he placed it down in front of you, your dad raised his eyebrow. “you still avoiding deviled eggs?”
you brought your plate closer to you, waiting to eat until heeseung had his plate. you stuck your tongue out at your dad. “i don’t when hee makes them.”
your dad looked at heeseung with a surprised look. “you made her eat deviled eggs?”
“i just added miso and switched the regular mayo out for the japanese one,” heeseung sheepishly laughed. “she seemed to enjoy them.”
a boisterous laugh escaped your dad as he leaned his head back. when he caught his breath, he gave heeseung an approving nod. “good on you, man.”
the rest of the dinner went smoothly, and heeseung felt himself relaxing. your dad wasn’t nearly as intimidating as he thought. they easily bonded over cooking and how the women in their life shouldn’t have to lift their pretty little fingers if they didn’t want to. heeseung felt relieved. your dad seemed to like him, especially after you telling him how much heeseung takes care of you.
by the end of it, your dad was inviting him back over—without you. “you should come over and we can workshop a course menu for the girls.”
heeseung grinned, promising to come back soon. you said your goodbyes and drove home. on the drive, you kissed your intertwined hands. “thanks for doing that.”
heeseung shook his head. “it’s no problem. i’m glad i got to talk to your parents.”
“nothing to worry about, right? they really like you,” you teased. “they even want you to marry me so they can trap you forever.”
heeseung hummed. he’d gladly be “trapped” by your parents if it meant calling you his wife. should he go ring shopping? he didn’t have money for that right now. maybe once he gets his return offer. he could at least scroll on through websites.
“good thing i already do wanna marry you.”
disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! you can now leave requests!
#enhypen#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: writes#⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: headcanons#⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: 𝓪𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼#anon 〠
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