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sleepyhoon · 8 days ago

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TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed.

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies.

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure? don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not��you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth.

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door.

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

#enhypen imagine #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung #lee heeseung imagine #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scencario #jake sim #park sunghoon #park jongseong

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nctsworld · 4 years ago

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two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

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mcyt-imagines-library · 3 years ago

Note

Can we have a college au were hybrids are normal and everything and the reader is a student who has a badass punk/alt style (piercings tattoos and all) and goes to underground parties and they're dating Technoblade, George, Dream, Sapnap, Karl, and Tommy (all separatly obvs)

Decided to start off with this one lol. It should be noted that, because i'm American, i'm taking 'college' as higher education and since the legal drinking age is 21

TW// Mentions of underage drinking and recreational marijuana use

c!Dream

He thinks your style is really badass, it being a little bit similar to his own

He likes hearing about the stories behind all of your tattoos and piercings, and in exchange, he tells you about the few he has

He fits in quite well at some of the more underground parties you drag him off to, and kind of thrives at them

A lot of the time during it, he wants your attention (he's a bit on the jealous side of the spectrum) but won't be upset if you want to hang out with your friends, though, and uses the time to mingle and meet others

If he's offered any, he'll smoke weed or drink alcohol, but only if you're not (someone has to play adult, after all)

If you're the one drinking, he'll watch your cup whenever you're not holding it and overall keeps an eye on you to make sure you're safe

If he's drunk, he offers to stumble back to his dorm alone so you don't have to deal with him (whether you take him up on his offer or help him/let him stay with you is your decision)

The next morning, regardless if he has a bit of a hangover, he talks positively about the party and wouldn't mind going to another one

c!George

You two are incredibly different than each other, so you either met in a core class or through Dream

In the relationship, he doesn't really care that you two look so different from one another, but he does kind of think it's a bit endearing

Asks about your tattoos and, after talking it over a bit, contemplates getting a tiny line art tattoo of a bundle of flowers or a mushroom just above the crook of his elbow

If you invite him to a party, he declines very quickly, it's not his kind of scene, so he'd just be incredibly uncomfortable at one

That doesn't mean he doesn't want you to go, though

As long as you have at least one friend with you and you text him now and again that everything's alright, he's perfectly chill about it

After the parties, if you're inebriated and you need someone to pick you up, he'll drop whatever he's doing at the time to go get you (if you need him for an emergency during, he'll absolutely pick you up then too)

This is a side note, but, while he works in the campus greenhouse, he loves when you visit him (especially if you bring him water during the summer)

c!Karl

If you thought you and George looked odd together than you should see you and Karl

Since his whole aesthetic is soft, over sized sweaters with the collars poking out, cuffed jeans, and sneakers in light or neutral colors, and your's is far more dark and edgy looking, you both look like complete opposites

When you two were starting out as friends, he asked about all of your tattoos and piercings, questioning you about how much they hurt (considers getting a standard lobe piercing on each ear)

In the relationship, he always notices whenever you get a new one and comments on it (it's always a compliment)

If you want to take him to a party, he's a mixture of nervous and excited

Because it is a completely new scene than what he's use to, he sticks to your side until he gets a bit more comfortable to branch out and talk to strangers (a lot of people go up to him first, though, since he looks so out of place)

At the party, if he's offered alcohol or weed, he declines, just in case you need someone to drive you home or help get you back to your dorm room

Kinda hopes you ask to have him accompany you to another party

c!Sapnap

While he has more of an e-boy aesthetic going on, he thinks that the whole punk/alt style you have is killer

He also really likes your piercings, he already has a mid-helix and left eyebrow piercing but seeing yours makes him want more

He also thinks your tattoos are super neat, asking about the stories behind them

Because of how cool you looks, he kind of shows you off to his friends and on his social medias (with your permission, of course)

After inviting him to a party for the first time, he acts nonchalant about everything while he's there and pretends like he's too cool for the scene

After about an hour or so though, he loosens up and stops pretending, actually opening up and being himself

He definitely gets a bit fucked up the first time, smoking more weed than he probably should've (he kinda reeks of weed, but you come in clutch with extra perfume/cologne)

When you two get back to the dorms, you help him stumble past the front desk and into his respective dorm room (You then have the choice to pawn him off on his roommate, Dream, or stay with him until the morning)

The next day, he talks to you about wanting to go to another one

c!Technoblade

Doesn't comment too heavily on the existence of your tattoos, but does like seeing them

With the piercings, he has a few himself so he doesn't blink an eye (comments whenever you get a new one, though)

Even though he doesn't say anything about it, he really likes when you wear gold studs because he thinks it looks nice on you (it's a piglin thing tbh)

Whenever you try to get him to go to a party, of any kind, not just the punk scene, he wants to decline

He pretends like it’s because he puts classes before partying, but in reality, it’s because he’s not really all that stellar in loud and packed social settings

He will, however, agree to go with anyway so that he can make sure you're safe

While you're out dancing with others, he sticks to the wall, guarding your drink with his life

When you're done, or he cuts things a bit short in his anxiety riddled state, he very carefully helps you home

If you're below 21, then he's going to be infinity more stressed about you, but since he's not a snitch, he's going to, as carefully and inconspicuously as possible, help you sneak to his dorm room so he can watch for you in your inebriated state

c!Tommy

Tommy is actually a senior in high school who's taking a few college level courses and you’re in your first year of college

You both originally met through Wilbur, who’s your friend and his older brother (he’s supportive of your relationship)

Safe to say, because Tommy wants to be seen as cool, he wants to get a few piercings and have you take him to one of the parties you've talked about (Wilbur is less supportive of that)

When you first met, though, he immediately commented about the multiple tattoos and piercings, asking how much they hurt, where you got them, and later when he goes back home, he tells Phil that he wants a few (Phil kind of dismisses him nervously, saying that he can wait until he's older)

When you two get into an actual relationship, he brags about you so much, insisting that his s/o is literally so badass

Every time he asks about a party, Wilbur shuts him down before he can get a whole sentence out and makes sure you do the same

You just keep telling him that you'll take him to his first party when he gets into college in a few months, which makes him a bit salty

Overall, Tommy genuinely thinks you're one of the coolest people ever and boasts that he's dating you to his friends, family, and random people on the subway who pretend like they're listening

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ellewords · 4 years ago

Text

coffee conversations

summary : your roommate has a habit of coming home late from work. you have a habit of staying up late to finish yours.

word count : ~1.6k

fic notes : kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader, fluff, roommates au, lowercase intended

from elle ! this ended up being longer than i originally planned. it was supposed to be just a drabble then it ended up spiralling into whatever this is ;-; regardless, i had a lot of fun writing it bec my kuroo brainrot is pretty strong now sigh anyways, thank you for reading and i hope you have a lovely day ! <3

midnight.

it’s when the darkness finally settles in, but the city’s just bound to come alive; especially on a friday night, or was it saturday morning? but did that really matter? kuroo leans his head on the window, the cab ride home has always been a scenic root. multicolored lights from the buildings and billboards reflecting on his skin, the several bodies that crowded the sidewalks as they trudged their way to the nearest bar. if he asked the driver to turn down the radio, if he listened hard enough, he could hear the dull thumping of bass from each flashy establishment they passed. and he supposes he could be one of those people, an arm lazily slung around a stranger, ordering them their next drink, dancing with them until sweat covered every inch of their bare skin. he could be, and it wasn’t too long ago that he was. but recently, he’s found a reason to head straight home.

kuroo knows exactly what he’s about to come home to, maybe that’s what excited him so much. why he nervously taps his foot on the tiled floors of the reception area, wondering if the elevator doors could open any quicker. why he speed walks his way along the carpeted hallways, the soles of his shoes barely making a sound as he made sure to keep his steps as light as possible. why his hands shake as he turns the key, opening the front door as quickly as his heart beats. all of that because he knows it’s you waiting for him.

you’re seated upright along the length of the sofa, typing away at your laptop. face illuminated by the screen’s glare, and he lets out a quiet tsk; he’s reminded you more times than he can count to turn down the brightness, you nod but never listen. your brows are furrowed and there’s a tiny crinkle in the space between them, kuroo wonders what it would be like to press a kiss right there. he shakes the thought away immediately, knowing that it would only do more harm than good to let his mind wander away like that. he watches the way your fingers move from one key to another, fast and precise, not leaving any room to breathe. you never notice when he comes home, gaze travelling from one end of the word document to the other, making sure each word is in its rightful place. kuroo knows you don’t really wait up for him, you’re just trying your best to finish the mountain of paperwork your boss had so graciously left you to do over the weekend. but for a brief moment, he lets his heart believe that you do. only for a little bit, never too long.

he has to cough to get your attention. it doesn’t get your attention the first time, having to cough maybe thrice before you remove the earphones that blasted at full volume.

“i see you’re home from work.” you comment, already making a move to stand from the couch. but not before stretching your arms upwards; you had been sitting there typing for way too long.

kuroo smirks, stepping aside as you stood and made your way over to the kitchen. eyes glancing at the stack of paperwork you left on the coffee table, “and i see that you still haven’t escaped yours.”

“i know. how unfortunate. the usual?” you frown, placing your laptop on the kitchen counter.

he places his work bag on the couch, taking off his coat and loosening his tie, “do you even have to ask?”

it’s like clockwork at this point. he sits on one of stools by the counter, elbows on the countertop and hands on his chin, watching you work. his eyes follow you around, mesmerized even by the simplest things: from the way you measured the coffee grounds to simply putting the coffee pot on the stove to brew.

“why can’t we be normal and just have breakfast together or something?” you sigh, crossing your arms and leaning your body against the wall, finally making eye contact with kuroo — unaware of the fact that he had been watching you the entire time.

he chuckles, there’s a light amusement that flashes across his features, “because i’m still asleep by the time you need to leave for work.”

“fair point,” you nod, closing your eyes in slight frustration as you’re reminded of all the things that you needed to accomplish by the time the sun rises. you have reports to write, presentations to prepare; wondering if any of this was even worth it. “why do i even need to work? is it not enough to lounge around the apartment all day watching tv?”

“you need to pay your half of the rent.” kuroo jokes, shaking his head. he waits for you to laugh, or at least come up with some clever retort. but you stay silent, finally opening your eyes to look at him, and he sees it. there’s tiredness, there’s stress — emotions he’s sure is evident in his own. “you alright?”

you shrug your shoulders before they return to their slumped position, gaze briefly flickering towards the coffee pot before placing them back on kuroo, “there’s nothing i can do.”

“you know you can quit, right, yn?” kuroo speaks before he thinks, eyes widening at his own question, “i don’t mind shouldering the rent for a little bit until you find something less exhausting.”

it’s your turn to laugh this time, “and have you working overtime even more? no thanks. you’re sweet though.”

sweet. kuroo notes, you think he’s sweet? heat rises to his cheeks, a faint flush coloring them in the process. never had he been more grateful for the dimness of the lights, the room just dark enough to not make it noticeable. “for your information, i work overtime because i actually like my job. and how else am i going to have these conversations with you?”

you raise a brow, he had a point there. despite sharing the same space, you and kuroo had a habit of missing each other for most of the day. you leave early in the mornings and he still hasn’t arrived by the time you get back in the afternoon.

“didn’t expect that you look forward to these.” you smile, turning off the stove once you notice the dark liquid boiling, signalling that it was ready. the scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as you grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “which one do you want?”

you hold two different mugs towards him. one you had gotten him as a souvenir from a business trip to kyoto, the other he had gotten you while on vacation in osaka. kuroo points to the one that you had gotten him, “of course, i look forward to these. it’s the highlight of my day.”

“your days must be terribly boring then.” you comment, placing the mugs on the counter and taking a seat on the stool beside his.

“no,” he protests almost immediately, a little too sudden actually. kuroo blinks back once he’s realized that he’s startled you, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment, “i just like spending time with you.”

a sigh leaves both of your lips at the first sip of coffee, the warmth spreading across the entirety of your bodies. it’s quiet for these few moments, where you and kuroo just sit back and take everything in. the chill in your apartment, the heat from the mugs, the distant sounds of city nightlife, the almost yellow glow of the light fixture that hung above you, the way your elbows accidentally brushed the other’s. there’s silence, but there’s a ringing in your ears that neither of you could avoid. your hearts beat uncontrollably fast. but that must be the caffeine. at least that’s what you try to convince yourself.

but kuroo liked to think that he knew himself better, that he was actually honest with himself. it isn’t the caffeine that made his heart race past midnight, when all you had to do was look at him in the way you usually do. head tilted to the side, hanging on to every word that left his lips, nodding along to whatever he ranted about, eyes travelling over his face like you were memorizing each and every feature, the corner of you lips flicked upward. it’s like looking in a mirror, he knows he looked at you like that too. and maybe, just maybe, he allows himself once more to believe that you could possibly like him back.

“if it means anything,” you speak, cutting through the silence as you recalled the last thing he said before you took your first sips, “i like spending time with you too.”

and it does mean something to him. to kuroo, it meant the world. he’s aware that there are other ways he could be spending his time. he could be dancing it up in a club, on his seventh shot of whatever the bartender decides to hand him, arms around some stranger whose name he was going to forget when the day breaks. he could be in bed, asleep, finally letting exhaustion catch up to him as he crashed face first into the soft pillows. but no, he’s here with you. your arm accidentally grazing his every now and then, resting your head on his shoulder as you rant about the day you’ve had, or placing a hand there to steady yourself when you laugh just a little too hard at his jokes and stories, knowing that his attempts of making you feel better are slowly beginning to work.

there’s nowhere else he’d rather be past midnight than in the kitchen of your shared apartment, complimenting you on making the best cup of coffee he’s ever had.

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot @aoirohi

join my hq taglist here. <3

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beca-mitchell · 4 years ago

Text

nothing has changed me quite like you (1/1)

Summary: Chloe Beale and her shetland sheepdog, Juniper, make quite the pair. Set after PP3. Written for @bechloe-week day 2 - he bit me!

Notes: Fic title from "Nothing Is U" by Bleachers. Written for Bechloe Week Day 2 - He bit me! Wrote this after a burst of inspiration tonight. Unbeta'd, sorry.

Read on AO3 or read below.

* * * * *

Chloe adopts Juniper from her uncle when she moves up to Ithaca to begin her veterinary school education. Juniper is a happy dog, incredibly enthusiastic about walks, and happy to lie on top of Chloe’s chest to wake her up in the morning.

Chloe had always wanted a dog again since her childhood dog had long passed away. However, living at Barden hadn’t really allowed for it in her first year there. Then living in a house constantly filled with loud, singing women...that hadn’t been the time either.

She had thought maybe—maybe when she moved into an apartment with Beca, her longtime crush and (even more) longtime friend, would have been the time. But no. Amy happened. And their tiny apartment happened. Their tiny apartment which meant that Chloe spent cold, sleepless nights trying not to cuddle too close to Beca, lest she startle her and send her running away for good. Those cold, lonely, sleepless nights spent wondering if Beca would ever reciprocate her feelings.

The nights spent after Beca and Jesse’s Breakup™. The nights spent falling asleep together after another bad Netflix movie.

The nights spent together after nights out. Sleeping only, of course.

All the nights.

It almost made Chloe forget about wanting a dog—about wanting a companion. Almost. It would have just been difficult to have a dog in such a small face while nobody was really home to take care of a dog.

(But it had made Chloe smile—widely too—when she had mentioned it offhandedly to Beca. The whole ‘having a dog’ thing. A rather domestic suggestion, if Chloe thought about it for too long. She had almost been afraid about bringing it up even hypothetically to Beca. It felt like a step she hadn’t been sure about taking even though they weren’t even anything. But still. Beca liked dogs and would have liked a dog of her own—their own?—if it weren’t for their roommate and their living conditions.

That was a win to Chloe.

Beca liked dogs. Nobody was taking that away from her.)

Finally, Chloe moved upstate. Upstate where it was easier to get a spacier apartment; where there was that much more greenery. Many more accessible parks to run.

It was finally time to get a dog.

Finally, then came Juniper—a force of energy rolled into one fluffy Shetland Sheepdog.

* * * * *

Juniper is a happy dog.

So happy to the extent that Chloe is surprised the first time she attempts to bring somebody back to her apartment. She brings back a nice woman from the Pharmacy School after a surprisingly refreshing date. They barely make it into the apartment when Juniper immediately begins leaping at their legs, surprisingly excited and over-eager for the rather late hour.

“Shh,” Chloe hushes, smiling apologetically at her date. “Sorry, she’s not usually like this. Um...here, let me grab your jacket. I can make us some tea or something.” She tries not to sound too desperate. “If you want to stay for a little.”

Valerie smiles—a pretty smile entirely too reminiscent of another brunette with blue eyes—and nods. “I’d love to.”

“Great!” Chloe exclaims, a bit too high-pitched for her liking. She turns so Valerie can’t see her wince. Valerie doesn’t necessarily need to know exactly how long it’s been since she was...super intimate in any sense of the word. Herself not included. “I’ll be back,” she calls over her shoulder, clutching her date’s jacket in her hand.

Juniper obediently follows her to the kitchen, little nails tapping against the hardwood. “You can do this,” Chloe murmurs to herself, opening cabinets as she searches for a good mug to use. “You can do this, right Junie?” she asks, bending down to coo at her dog. Juniper yelps, tail wagging happily as she flits around Chloe’s leg, clear herding instincts coming out. “She’s not Beca. I mean. Who is. But she’s pretty. And nice.” She glances at Juniper as if her dog is listening to her attentively. “She’s pretty nice,” she chirps, smiling at Juniper.

Juniper offers no feedback, other than a brush of her nose against Chloe’s leg.

Chloe sighs, bringing the mugs back out to her living room.

* * * * *

“Ow!”

Chloe draws back quickly, immediately pushing herself up on the couch and peering down at her date nervously. A small yelp of pain isn’t necessarily the reaction she’s used to unless discussed beforehand with her bedmates.

“Sorry,” Chloe whispers, hushed. “Did I bite you?”

Valerie sits up at well, cheeks still flushed attractively, lips still swollen from their make-out session. Chloe’s eyes don’t even wander to her half-unbuttoned shirt. “No, I think—your dog did?”

“My wha—” Chloe twists on the couch, peering around in the low light. She sees Juniper sitting up, alert yet somehow still innocent, in her dog bed in the corner of the living space. “She’s…”

“I didn’t imagine it. She definitely bit me.”

“No, I believe you, she’s just not normally—she likes other people.”

Valerie laughs, sitting up all the way and beginning to button up her shirt. Juniper perks up at that and scurries over, as if she is excited to watch Chloe very much not have sex.

“You don’t have to go,” Chloe urges, though she isn’t sure why she even wants to protest. “I’m—I mean we can—”

“Look, you’re very nice, but I guess...I just want to be friends.”

“Oh. I’m...that’s okay. I don’t…” Chloe finds she isn’t extremely disappointed, just a little stunned that her evening is ending so quickly. Though she has no extreme connection to Valerie—no lingering passion—she is still relatively disappointed by the lack of sex in her life. She sighs, deflating. “I’ll get your jacket.”

* * * * *

Chloe doesn’t think much of it. It’s just a pattern of behaviour that she assumes Juniper has developed. She doesn’t really bite people—she just nips. Regardless, Chloe knows it isn’t behaviour that she should encourage by any means. She just assumes Juniper is a little protective of her. A little territorial.

It isn’t until weeks later that another major incident occurs. Chloe has since learned not to really go back to her own apartment with dates, with this one being an exception.

Mark is a PhD student at the engineering school. She meets him through a veterinary school friend and they had agreed to go on a date together. One thing had led to another and they had ended up tucked away in Chloe’s room after their date (Juniper had been locked out of her room on purpose) and well—

It’s fun. That much Chloe can say. It isn’t until later, with Mark’s heavy snoring next to her that she realizes that she hadn’t felt any real connection to him. But maybe, she muses, it’s too early to tell. It had been one date. And she had felt enough of a connection to sleep with him, even though it isn’t something she does regularly. Putting out on the first date at least.

It is the next morning that everything becomes apparent.

Chloe wakes up alone, eyes blinking against the harsh sunlight of her room. She hears a strange sound, something that sounds like muffled yelling. Or whisper-yelling. She senses the distinct emptiness next to her and sighs, wondering if she even has time to be disappointed. Or if she had prepared herself adequately for this inadvertently.

She hears a bark. Followed by a hushing sound.

Chloe rolls her eyes. Sneaking past her dog. Typical.

Without more thought, Chloe pulls a robe around her and yanks open her bedroom door, wondering what she’ll see. She blinks at the scene in front of her and takes in the way Mark appears to be in a stand-off with Juniper.

She sighs, realizing he has probably encountered one of her behavioural issues. Her earlier annoyance aside, she tries to offer sympathy and clears her voice, making her presence known. “Oh, I’m so sorry, she’s—”

“Aren’t you a vet or something?” he asks, holding up one of his ruined shoes. The other, Juniper still holds in her mouth, her tail wagging enthusiastically. Like this is some game. “Can’t you train your dog better?”

“She’s not usually like this!” Chloe exclaims. “Junie, come here, baby. Stop that.”

“Do you know how expensive these shoes are?”

Chloe almost laughs at the expression on his face, but she remembers, fleetingly, how much Beca had valued her precious headphones. She supposes everybody has their hobbies.

“Give that back, you little—”

“Don’t be mean to her!” Chloe cries, attempting to intervene. “She’s just playing. Junie, come here,” she demands.

Mark scowls, continuing to tug at his remaining shoe. The one that isn’t covered in dog pee. Juniper refuses to let up, even growling a little as he tugs harder. She stands her ground with surprising force. Chloe wonders if she had imagined Mark’s arm muscles. Clearly nothing compared to a shetland sheepdog with something to prove.

She sighs, choosing instead to lean back against the wall. She pulls her robe tighter around herself, tucking the fabric to protect herself against the chill. At least she gets morning entertainment in the place of a one-night stand trying to run out on her.

“Hey—Hey!” Mark cries out, pulling his hand away, both shoes dropping to the ground. “She bit me!”

Chloe pushes off the wall, concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m f—”

“I was talking to Juniper,” Chloe says shortly. “You were antagonizing her on purpose. Rule one of interacting with dogs.”

He has enough sense to look appropriately chastised, but still displeased with the entire situation.

She rises, holding out her hand to inspect his hand. “Let me see,” she murmurs.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just go.”

Chloe watches the door slam behind him, Juniper by her side.

“Another one, huh, Junie.”

* * * * *

The next semester comes quickly enough, January creeping into February, then the early stages of March.

“Beca?” Chloe blinks, stunned. “What are you doing here? In the—in—?” Chloe peers out the door as if expecting a camera crew to surprise them in the middle of the hallway. This is some Punk’d energy Chloe feels. She hadn’t expected to see Beca for at least another few months, even if she has spent the last few months alone missing Beca terribly. “This isn’t L.A.,” she says slowly, wonder creeping into her voice. “You’re not in L.A.”

“I—surprise!” Beca spreads her arms, hesitant smile on her lips. Chloe gapes at her, noting how different Beca looks...yet completely the same. Maybe a little more...expensive, if Chloe had a word for it. Her jacket is sleek-looking, her hair is slightly curled and—

“Did you dye your hair?” Chloe asks, reaching out to touch the ends of Beca’s hair. “It’s so pretty…”

“Thank you,” Beca says, blushing. “You look...wow.”

Chloe touches her hair self-consciously. It’s tied up in a messy ponytail to match her oversized sweater and leggings. She hadn’t planned on seeing anybody today, intent on having a quiet study day. “Really?” she asks softly before she can help herself.

“Yeah, I—oh.” Beca pauses, looking down at Juniper who creeps between Chloe’s legs to peer up at Beca with interest. Chloe feels Juniper’s tail wagging against her legs. “Who’s this! Is this the cutie you always post about on Instagram?”

Hearing the high-pitched tone of Beca’s voice as she continues to talk to and about Juniper makes all kinds of affection shoot through Chloe’s body. That and something else. She smiles at Beca, realizing just how much she had missed the other woman over this time. While Beca had been off in L.A. making a name for herself, Chloe had missed her all the while, attempting to fill the voids that Beca had left behind.

“Yeah,” Chloe murmurs, watching as Beca holds out her hand for Juniper to sniff. “She’s just a little...temperamental with new people, I—” Chloe freezes, stunned when Juniper licks Beca’s hand and immediately pushes her body into Beca’s knees, clearly intent on receiving more cuddles.

“She’s adorable, Chlo.”

Chloe thinks she might cry. “She really is.” She clears her throat, battling the emotion away. “Do you want to...come in, or—?”

“I...okay. Yeah. I mean. I did come to visit you, but I’m telling you, she might take some attention away from you.”

Chloe scoffs. “As if that would ever happen,” she teases.

Beca hums, something non-committal, but not quite the immediate disagreement Chloe expects from her.

“Chloe?” Beca asks quietly as the front door shuts behind her. “Can I do something?”

Chloe turns, confused. She takes in the sight of Beca standing there in front of her with her expensive jacket and her expensive duffel bag (she hadn’t seen that before—did Beca intend on staying with her? In her one-bedroom, one-bed apartment?), with Juniper sitting obediently right next to her.

It is very much a picture of a girl with a mission, too weighed down by all her insecurities.

Chloe’s heart races. “Sure,” she whispers.

“I...wanted to do it the moment you opened the door. But I guess…” Beca smiles down at Juniper. “Needed the seal of approval first, huh.” She takes a step closer, dropping her bag gently at her feet. “I’m...Can I kiss you?”

That simple statement, said with such clarity and sincerity, snatches all the air from Chloe’s chest. She stumbles, eyes widening as she notes that Beca is standing right in front of her with nowhere else to go. Her favourite blue eyes, taking up her entire field of view.

“Chloe.”

“I—um. Yes. God, yes, please kiss me,” Chloe replies, wondering very much if this is still a dream.

"I just. Wasn't sure after Europe," Beca says stiltedly. Breathless, almost. She reaches up with shaking hands to put her hands around the back of Chloe's neck.

"Kiss me," Chloe whimpers.

So Beca does.

* * * * *

When Chloe wakes the next morning, she wakes up alone. Her heart pounds, wondering if Beca had left in the middle of the night. She lies, somewhere between dream and nightmare, too afraid to wake up and face the Pandora’s Box of her reality.

The previous night had been nothing short of amazing. Chloe struggles to find words to encapsulate the spectrum of emotions that had crashed through her the moment she and Beca finally got to know each other intimately. Wandering hands, heavy kisses, breathless pants, and the annoyingly rhythmic sound of Chloe’s bed creaking under the weight of two bodies finding their perfect match in each other.

It had been perfect.

Chloe wonders if anything will ever top their first time, now that she knows what it feels like to be wanted by Beca Mitchell. Beca, who flew across the country to pull Chloe into her arms and kiss her. Not quite an “I love you” but also not quite a “Let’s be friends” either.

Chloe sighs, sitting up and letting the sheets fall around her. She is too afraid to check, but she has more faith in Beca than that. Her longtime friend. Her longtime crush. Her maybe-not-one-time lover.

“Hey,” Beca calls quietly as she pushes open the door. She is wearing one of Chloe’s old oversized shirts and a shy smile on her face. Her hair is delightfully rumpled, catching all the rays of sun that sneak into Chloe’s bedroom. In her arms, she holds a squirming Juniper who looks like she is very much attempting to lick Beca’s face or jump onto the bed. Or both.

Chloe almost gasps, but she only manages a shy smile of her own, stunned into silence for once.

“You’re here,” Chloe murmurs when she finds her voice.

Beca sits on the bed, gently letting Juniper squirm free from her arms. Juniper curls up at the foot of her bed, ears twitching excitedly. “I hope you don’t mind, I just gave her some food. She was waiting for us when I woke up.”

Us, Chloe thinks happily. She smiles, reaching out to grab the front of Beca’s shirt to draw her in for a kiss. Beca responds immediately, hands coming up to frame Chloe’s cheeks gently, tilting her head, like she is responding to Chloe’s unspoken word. Us, she seems to echo in her kiss. Look at us.

Scratch perfection, Chloe thinks. This is all she needs.

fin.

#bechloe #mine #my fanfic #bechloe week #bechloe week 2020 #bechloeweek #pitch perfect #bechloe fic

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feminaexlux · 4 years ago

Text

Black Cats are Some Kind of Luck

Oh god this might just be a little bit of a crack fic but I had way too much fun writing this.

Rated M, probably? Iunno. LukaNoire!

∴

In most of the mornings Luka had in his life after toddlerhood he woke up alone in his bed. When Juleka was younger, maybe a toddler herself, she had dragged him out of his bed to hide under a blanket on the floor when she had nightmares. Anarka would find her babies in a tangled nest, since sleeping on the floor meant finding no monsters under the bed to very young imaginative minds.

This morning he woke up with… someone else snuggled next to him. Someone who looked a lot like Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He hadn't gone to sleep that way. Pretty sure of that. He was and had been sober.

He had no idea what happened.

Gently he pried himself away from her, extricating himself carefully from her grasp. He took a quick look around his room and yep, this was his room in his flat that he shared with his best friend. His guitars were hung up against the walls, his music sheet paper was on his desk in random piles, his hoodie was thrown over his desk covering his laptop.

But it was Marinette. In his bed. Oh god, he thought, HOW was she here? Somewhere deep down inside of him he didn't find the idea of him waking up next to her unwelcome but… there was a natural progression to things. Sure, he'd been in love with her for years but she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng the up-and-coming fashion star and personal designer for Jagged Stone. He was just Luka. He hadn't ever given himself even the slimmest of chances when she was Marinette and she had her eyes on Adrien Agreste, the supermodel and son of Gabriel, who ran the most prominent design house in France. She was probably 2 standard deviations out of his league.

"Shit," he whispered to no one in particular. He checked himself over and double checked that he was sober and dressed (oh god we didn't… did we?). She was wearing her pajamas and it didn't look like they did anything so that wasn't going to cause an immediate meltdown. He should probably wake her up and… figure out what happened. He knelt by the edge of the bed and gently shook her by the shoulder. "Hey. Marinette?"

"Mnnng," she groaned, eyebrows furrowing as she frowned. She grabbed at his blankets and pulled them in toward her, then started opening her eyes. "Hi," she said, lazily smiling up at him. She must still have been waking up, but if she smiled like that to whoever she woke up next to he'd happily have them both go back to sleep just so they'd wake up together again.

"Do you know where you are?" He asked. Maybe there'd been an akuma attack and she got teleported here? He wasn't sure. "You're in my room. Do you remember how you got here?"

"Yeah," she yawned. "I cam--" Her eyes shot wide open mid-word and she slapped her hands over her mouth. "Th-there was an akuma!"

∴

Oh god, she almost said she came here on purpose, and not because she'd been high as a kite on whatever kitty hormones had coursed through her veins while she was Lady Noire.

Well, she couldn't blame it just on the kitty hormones. Regular hormones were bad enough. And if she was even more honest with herself she had wanted to wake up next to Luka Couffaine, the gentleman rocker, ever since she found herself thinking about blues more than greens, distressed more than clean and crisp, shy but warm laughter more than confused smiles.

So basically for a couple of years now.

She should have seen it coming. When she and Mister Bug decided to swap permanently she'd been informed by Plagg that should she choose it, she'd be able to tap into some latent powers with the side effect of being more like the animal the Miraculous represented. She didn't think it'd be a problem so she chose it. Cats just slept all the time. If she didn't have to worry about being Ladybug anymore she could afford more sleep, right?

What she didn't really account for (and she should have after a facepalm worthy moment where she realized Plagg had been teasing it all along) was the heat. Or whatever it was that made her way more… touch-oriented, and way less inhibited than usual.

She'd been alright with napping more often. She'd been alright about unconsciously licking her hands clean. It was convenient that she was the daughter of bakers and helped out making pastries. She was practically covered in flour and sugar all the time anyway (regardless, she always washed her hands after). She didn't have a tail to swish around whenever she was annoyed so nothing about her was more cat-like than usual. Though she was annoyed more often now that she thought about it.

The cat-ness also severely affected her sense of smell.

She wasn't alright with how good some people smelled, especially near her period. When she and Kagami were having a juice date Marinette legitimately drooled at how vibrantly citrusy the fencer was. Alya, Nino, and most of Kitty Section smelled pleasant. Her parents smelled… well, familiar, which was to be expected. Adrien also smelled familiar, which was unexpected.

Luka was the worst. She couldn't place the scent but she kept thinking of blueberries, sea salt, chocolate, ocean waves lapping at her feet, the warmth of a crackling bonfire with the cooling sea breeze, and how badly she wanted to curl herself around him and take in his everything. It wasn't just near her period. It was all the time.

It seemed like after the late-night/early-morning akuma attack she had nearly gone ahead and wrapped herself around him in her kitty hormone addled brain. God, he had smelled so good and her brain had still been fuzzy at the edges when he woke her up, but she had quickly gotten to her senses after he had looked a little panicked and she had noticed that she was detransformed.

She couldn't blame him for being panicked. If the situation was reversed she might have screamed and tossed him across the Seine.

"I'm… I'm so sorry, Luka," she said in her own panic. She looked off to the side and nervously played with the rose-gold ring on her right hand, wondering where Plagg had gone. She looked back at Luka when he blew out a relieved sigh.

"Hey, it was the akuma," he laughed. "You alright? Not hurt anywhere?"

"I'm alright, yeah," she answered, then suddenly frowned. Plagg, that little shit, what the hell was he doing? She found him laying on top of Luka's head, smiling a wide Cheshire cat smile.

"I don't know why the miraculous ladybugs didn't drop you off back home," Luka said, sounding like he was talking more to himself than to her. "Maybe it works differently for Mister Bug?"

Marinette could definitely fudge it and say that the Miraculous Ladybugs kinda… skipped her. "Haha, maybe I was too far from them?" Marinette forced a laugh.

Luka shrugged. "Still, I'm guessing you'd wanna go back home, right?"

Hmm, not really. And well, her ride back home was currently lounging in Luka's hair. She reached out a hand to try to catch Plagg but the kwami slipped out of her grasp. She ended up just… petting Luka. "Oh! S-sorry you had something in your hair," she said quickly, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

"Thanks?" He said, a deep blush rising up to his cheeks. He swept his hair back after Marinette reluctantly drew back her hand and for a long moment Marinette just stared. The younger Couffaines had a mild tendency to hide behind brightly colored bangs when they were feeling shy, but Luka had as much unconventional beauty packed in his features as Juleka did.

And Juleka could very well be a supermodel if she wanted.

"I'll give you a ride back on my bike. Is that alright?" He asked as his blush faded. He still looked a little nervous with his hand on the back of his neck.

"I'd love a ride," she said absently, another yawn overtaking her. Ugh, his bed was so warm and smelled so nice and she would most definitely like to ride him--ride with him, WITH him, WITH him. Yeah, she should go home now before she ruined everything.

At least, that had been the plan. They had gone down to the garage and chatted lightly after getting geared up one after the other, both more than thankful that Luka's roommate was dead asleep in the other room. The ride was smooth and relatively short so she hadn't been thinking about how she wanted to feel him under her the whole time, no, not at all. He parked nearby as her housing complex had like, no available spaces, and walked the block and a half to her apartment with her so she could get out of the borrowed gear without going barefoot in her pajamas.

As he was heading out with the spare gear over his arms, she stopped him. "Thanks for getting me home and… for everything. I'm… I'm glad I didn't end up anywhere else," Marinette said with a shy smile. She got up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

"No problem," he said slowly, mostly surprised with a blush creeping over his face. "See you later?"

She had a giant yawn escape her after she closed the door and started walking back to her bedroom. Plagg zipped out of her pajama pants pocket to float in front of her. "Yanno you kissed him on the mouth, right?" he snickered.

∴

Luka slowly leaned forward and rested his head against her door. Had she just kissed him? Had she just kissed him and he said "see you later" like a dumbass? He tried to stifle a groan and pressed his head harder into the door when the door swung open away from him with surprising speed. Three things worked against him as he tried to recover from stumbling forward: being caught off guard, his arms already carrying stuff that made him unbalanced, and gravity.

Good thing Marinette was there to break his fall. The bad thing was Marinette had some really amazing reflexes and honed self-defense skills because she guided his momentum into throwing him onto the floor, landing him on his back. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands after realizing what she had done. "Oh my god! Luka are you okay?!"

"Don't know," he said, blinking up at the ceiling. He'd been dressed for the slide but definitely felt hit by a truck after she'd kissed him. "Probably," he said after a beat. "Was that an accident?"

"… Yeah, I don't usually throw you to the ground?" Marinette replied, confused.

"No, you kissed me."

She made a couple of noises that sounded like abortive starts at sentences. "I… guess I don't usually do that either," she ultimately sighed, pressing one delicate hand to her very red cheeks. She knelt down next to him and brushed his hair away from his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll be okay if you kiss me again," he said, thinking he'd be able to get away with ha, just kidding if she wasn't into it but desperately hoping she would be. Something in her expression shifted and he almost felt his soul leave his body. He started propping himself up by his hands looking for the gear that got flung aside when he was pulled up the rest of the way to sitting by his jacket collar.

He got hit by another metaphorical truck. She pressed her lips to his, which was pretty great by itself but then it got more and intense and open and she unbuttoned his collar and zipped down his jacket. The temperature of the room instantly got stifling and he was sure part of his brain melted.

She pulled back a bit and they got a few breaths of air. He should have used that time to ask Can this be an every day thing but then she licked her lips and all coherent thoughts evaporated. He didn't notice that she successfully tugged his jacket off. Didn't feel it when he got pushed back down. Did notice when she sat on his lap and leaned forward to kiss him hard over and over again. He only heard the faintest buzz of his phone that had almost been drowned out by her tiny, breathy moans, and that had only sunk in and registered after she sat back up and growled at it.

She picked it up and nearly threw it against her couch except she caught a glimpse of something and said "Goddamn it."

It wasn't his finest moment. "Huh?"

"Akuma. Sorry, Luka!" She took his hands off of her ass and jumped up. Somehow she hauled him up to his feet and pushed him out the still opened door, pressing his jacket and phone into his hands. "I'll get the rest of the stuff to you later okay? I'm so sorry!"

"Wait. Hold on, what--" She cut him off by kissing him again, which was a surprisingly effective tactic.

"I'll meet you for lunch, but for now I gotta g--hide! Be safe! Sorry!" Then the door slammed shut.

The phone buzzed in his hand and he took a look at the notifications. They were all from his roommate, the bastard.

Just now Di © K: Hope ur ok where ever the fuck u r

One minute ago Di © K: Shit akuma

Two minutes ago Di © K: Oi whered u go

Three minutes ago Di © K: ? Di © K: Lulu Di © K: Heeeeey Di © K: Hey

… Didn't the whole thing with akumas mean he should have stayed indoors? With her?

He wasn't sure he could sit on his bike comfortably for the next little while anyway.

∴

Mister Bug swore almost every other akuma was some damned mind-control wizard. Of course it had to be one of those today, and of course today Lady Noire was especially pissed off so she was slightly more reckless than usual. Which was saying something, as Mister Bug had seen her go on a rampage not 8 hours ago and that had been one of the quickest akuma fights he'd ever seen. Seen and not participated in, as he'd been left nothing but cleanup.

Heatstroke or whatever had literally thrown the akumatized object at Lady Noire's feet after she had beaten and clawed the shit out of him. He was cowering in the relative security of a dumpster bin when Mister Bug found him.

She must have really loved her sleep. It'd been maybe 2am?

This latest akuma called herself the Directator. She'd been managing a movie set and of course something had gone wrong early in the day. So Hawky gave her the power to truly direct everything to her heart's desire or similar bullshit like that. Mister Bug and Lady Noire took maybe a few minutes to try to figure things out when Lady Noire skipped straight to the attack phase, beating Directator with the director's chair.

He should have noticed that she was ready to pounce when Lady Noire's ears were angled back and her electric green tail was whipping back and forth in a threatening fashion. She'd been way more actual-cat-like than he ever was as Chat Noir.

Directator panicked and commanded Lady Noire to 1) stop attacking her, 2) put the director's chair down gently, 3) be a nice kitty, 4) take off and go.

Mister Bug spent the next few minutes chasing after Lady Noire. When he finally caught up with her and stopped her, she put up her hands. He sighed with relief that she still wanted to work with him. He'd been relieved all up until she started slapping him with those hands and he fell back in surprise. She took off again.

It looked like she was heading in a particular direction so, after deciding to stay back a bit, Mister Bug trailed after her to see where she ended up. He didn't have to wait too long until she stopped running across the rooftops and dropped down to street level, where she seemed to chat up a dude in full riding gear next to a motorcycle. The next thing he saw was Lady Noire taking motorcycle guy by the waist and using her baton to propel them both to the roof of the tallest nearby building.

Maybe he should… do something about that? Especially since it seemed like Motorcycle Guy was screaming out a "what the fuuuuck".

Mister Bug went after them and found Motorcycle Guy sitting against the raised ledge of the building with Lady Noire curled up against him, sitting on his lap. Adrien coughed to hide and try to suppress his laughter. Motorcycle Guy raised his visor (oh hey, it was Luka) and asked "What's going on?"

Before Mister Bug could answer Lady Noire leapt up and stamped her foot in front of Adrien. "No! He's mine! Leave us alone!!" she hissed.

"I'm what?" Luka said incredulously.

Mister Bug backed up a few steps to placate her. "Yeah, okay," he chuckled. "You're being a nice kitty, right?"

She huffed and crossed her arms. "I'm always nice."

"You're right. So the nice kitty will let me talk to her friend for a minute, right? 'Cause you're such a nice Lady Noire?"

"Only a minute," she said unhappily. She was pouting.

"Great!" Mister Bug said cheerfully. He walked over to Luka and contemplated what to do on the way.

∴

(Just a bit earlier)

Where had Marinette disappeared to? Luka had knocked several times after she shut him out but she didn't answer. He pressed his ear against the door to see if he could hear anything but it was dead silent on the other side. She wouldn't have made out with him and thrown him out like this and ghosted him… would she? It didn't seem like a Marinette thing. Not that he was an expert in all things Marinette… one day he'd like to see if she'd let him become one though.

He had loitered around her place for probably 20 minutes trying to convince himself to not break in and find out what happened. He'd have to respect her privacy and he did, really, but the last akuma attack magically teleported her to his someone else's bed and his thoughts were slowly spiraling into dangerous territory, where he imagined her ending up in Adrien's bed and her realizing she had better people than Luka to roll around under the bedcovers with.

Be cool, man, he thought at himself. Not going to help anyone if he suffered a mental breakdown. There might be a non-zero chance that she ended up back at his place? Okay that seemed too optimistic but… he should probably let his flatmate know he was fine and that he was heading back anyway.

He walked out to his bike after putting his jacket back on and unlocked the rear seat off to get to his helmet. He'd been ready to get back on the bike and ride off when he heard more than saw someone plunk down next to him. He turned and Lady Noire was looking directly at him. "Hi Luka," she said. "I need you."

"For the akuma?" He asked. Maybe he needed to be Viperion again? "Okay?" She rushed in and threw him over her shoulder, then they were a hundred meters in the air. "What the fuck?!"

He got plopped down against the ledge of the building and then she sat curled up on him. It might have been his imagination but… she was purring? This was… not making any sense at all. Luka saw Mister Bug land on the roof and the spotted hero managed to get Lady Noire off of him for a minute.

Mister Bug walked over and sighed before talking with Luka. That was a bad sign. "I'm sorry to have to ask this, but could you… stay with her until I can deal with this akuma? I just needed to know she's safe and in one place."

"… What?"

"Mind control akuma. Lady Noire's been hit with some weird commands." Mister Bug paused and looked thoughtful. "Hmm, I don't know, actually. Seems like she's just doing whatever she wants to outside of being ordered to leave the scene."

"Can't you fix that? Or… maybe get me out of here?"

"It'll be fixed after I deal with the akuma. I don't know if you noticed but Kitty here has been pretty extreme recently. Might be safer for everyone, including both me and you, if she's here and not ordered to Cataclysm anyone or anything." Mister Bug dropped his voice to a whisper. "Never thought she'd be a loose cannon. She might just attack me again so I'm not going to tempt fate if she just wants to hang out with you." Mister Bug shrugged at Luka. "Hey, greater good and all that. I promise I'll fix this as soon as I can. Take care of her, alright?"

"Hey wait--" "Bug out!"

Mister Bug up and left them. Shit. Lady Noire came walking back and looked over the edge of the building to make sure Mister Bug was gone. She sat back down next to Luka. "Okay, good, it's just us!" she beamed, hugging him.

"Uh," Luka started uncomfortably. "Not… to try to make things any weirder, but… could you get off of me?"

She pulled back, looking hurt. "You don't like me?"

"I… don't know who you are. I mean as a person, not a superhero." Luka tried to say that gently enough to not set her off. "I might like you if I got to know you?" He backtracked, feeling unsure. "But I mean, I'm just not great with the touching. I'm… into someone and it feels wrong to have someone else be this close."

Her ears flattened out to the side. "Who's that?" she asked, half sad and half… bitter? He felt like he just waded into turbulent waters. He didn't want to throw anyone under the Lady Noire murder bus, least of all Marinette.

"I'll tell you if you stay here," he compromised, hoping that he didn't just sign any death warrants. "Besides, you know her already. She usually chases after you."

"Alya?!" Lady Noire was shocked.

"No, Marinette? She always runs out to--"

"But I'm Marinette."

"… You. You're Marinette? Marinette Du--"

"Dupain-Cheng, yeah. That's me."

Oh. "… I thought you weren't supposed to tell anyone who you were?"

She snorted. "I can do whatever I want!" She leaned in closer. "So does this mean I can touch you again?"

∴

It was just a few moments shy of Mister Bug letting the ladybugs set everything back to normal, so he ignored the notification on his yo-yo from Lady Noire. He checked it after and saw one line: "Taking Luka home now! ;)" Oh boy. Well, she should be relatively okay now. Luka would be fine.

Hopefully…

∴

Lady Noire started whining and that whine turned into a full blown scream in the middle of dropping from the roof, just as the Miraculous Cure worked its magic over her. Luckily she still landed softly enough while she held onto Luka, so it wasn't that she had lost control or anything. She immediately jumped away from him after setting him on his feet.

"Oh my god I am so, so, so, so sorry Luka," she cried, covering her entirely red face with her hands.

"Thank god you're back to normal," Luka sighed, leaning back against the building.

"Any chance you could forget all that?" Lady Noire asked nervously, dropping her hands back to fiddle with her baton. She looked like she wanted to leave Earth as soon as she possibly could.

All that included him taking his helmet off, her crawling back into his lap and grinding herself against him, her ripping apart his jacket and shirt (they were fixed now), peppering him with kisses and tiny bites everywhere, and doing all of this while she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng underneath it all. He did his best to keep up and reciprocate but she was superpowered. She barely let him breathe but he survived. And he'd enjoyed it. He had enjoyed the hell out of it. But at the same time he had gotten thoroughly overwhelmed.

He didn't want to forget all that, but… "I can if you want me to," he sighed. She'd been mind-controlled, after all. "It was all the akuma, right?" Too bad. "What… about earlier?"

She opened her mouth to reply but inhaled too quickly and started coughing. "Um, I…" She coughed again. "Er. Um…" She bit her lip and looked down, muttering something to herself.

∴

Goddamn it, Plagg. Plagg had mentally kicked her and the voice in her head said "Cat's already outta the bag, toots, you've been wanting to mount that guy for-e-ver. Don't you dare take it back." It startled her enough to cause her to choke on air.

"Um, I… Er. Um…" She kicked at the ground. She wanted this. She wanted this. No mind-influencing akuma had told her to kiss him, that had been completely her. "No, don't… don't forget anything. I wanted all that," she sighed. "It was all me."

He raised his helmet visor to get a better look at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded and looked back up at him. "I'm sure. I… kinda want to continue, too?"

It sounded like he choked. "I… wouldn't mind that."

She glanced back at her apartment a few blocks away. "See you in a few?"

∴

(Some time later)

Luka hadn't completely gotten used to waking up with someone else in bed. He wasn't sure if he ever would, since every time he woke up next to Marinette it'd been nothing short of amazing and he'd felt like he was dreaming but no, she was actually there.

Occasionally he'd have to deal with waking up in the middle of the night because she'd leave for patrol, or had come back from it to snuggle back into his arms. It wasn't really a problem because they were together in the morning.

He didn't really miss waking up alone.

#lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #lady noire #mister bug #fxl fic #lukanette #endgame lukanette

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 5 years ago

Text

Guys My Age

You meet Sebastian Stan and end up on a date, but what happens when he asks you out without knowing you’re only 22?

You wished you could say you didn’t like a guy fifteen years older than you, but you would also be wrong. Very wrong. It was dumb to even assume someone like him could like you back, regardless of age. He was an actor, a good one, who had his life together in every sense of the word. He had apartments in two cities, an endless amount of phone contacts you could never even dream of, and an actual life. You were just some college student who worked for Marvel until he needed a dog-sitter and you were the closest by. He probably didn’t even know you were a college student. If he did, he would probably dump you. And, as a matter of fact, that was what you were waiting for.

It started out just dog-sitting for him on the occasional weekend when he needed to fly back to New York. You were just excited for an excuse to leave your dorm for the weekend, much less spend time with Sebastian’s puppy, Trooper, and the extra money helped because Marvel could have easily paid you more than they did. You didn’t think he would ask you out, at all. And when he did, even though it was just for one dinner, you were more than excited. That was how you ended up in front of the mirror in your dorm, trying to decide whether to wear the clothes you had on or not.

“You have a dick appointment with thick boy?” Your roommate said, causing you to laugh so hard you nearly got mascara all over your nose.

“Jesus Christ,” you responded, “his name is Sebastian.”

“His name is a snack,” she insisted under her breath. “And if you don’t come back having gotten some, I’ll make you clean the bathroom.” You rolled your eyes.

“Nothing is going to happen,” you sighed. “It’s a first date and we’re literally just going to a restaurant. He’s definitely classier than fucking on the first date.” You finished with your mascara and threw it back into the box you kept your makeup in, making sure you weren’t wearing too much makeup for what you actually kind of hoped was a dick appointment. Not just so you could say you got dicked down by Sebastian Stan, but because he was hot and you genuinely liked him. He was sweet, hilarious, and he was probably the biggest idiot you’d ever met. But he was also almost forty years old, you kept reminding yourself. There was a fifteen year age gap. And you were determined not to let him know. You didn’t have a plan for when he did find out, because you assumed that he would dump you before then, but you probably should have had a plan.

“Whatever you say,” your roommate sing-songed to you. “Why are you meeting him at his house?”

“Because he doesn’t know I’m 22 and I intend to keep it that way.”

“He probably doesn’t care, honestly. If he knows you’re an intern, he knows you’re probably younger.” You consider this for a second as you put your lip gloss on, because why not, and then you pull out your phone.

Heading over soon!

Sebastian started typing almost immediately, just a quick okay, and you grabbed your jacket and wallet before heading out the door. Your roommate yelled a quick goodbye, but as you rode the elevator down to the garage you did your best to drive instead of thinking about all of the bad things that could possibly happen. Honestly, he probably didn’t care. But you were an anxiety-ridden human being and that was one of the things you had the most anxiety about. To you, age gaps didn’t matter. But it could also be that you just wanted to be with him so badly…

You were so concerned and thinking so hard that you almost missed his interstate exit. And then you almost missed the street. The house, the fifth on the left, was Sebastian’s, and it was hard to miss. The dog was in the front yard, a few feet from the invisible fence, and started barking as soon as you pulled in. He must have come to recognize your car, even though you spent most of the time with him when you were dog-sitting.

“Hi, Troopy!” You said brightly, the Rottweiler standing on his legs and leaning on you. “Hey, buddy!” He barked again and then ran to the front door, where the screen was already open. Sebastian was folding a blanket in his hands when he noticed you were there, and opened the door for you.

“Hey!” He said, walking forward and giving you a hug. He smelled like he’d just showered – he’d used the expensive cologne he kept on his vanity. When he peeled away he was still wearing a smile on his face. The dog let out a bark before settling down on his bed in the corner of the room.

“Hey, how are you?” You asked. It had only been three days since he had gotten back from New York, where his mom had roped him into coming back for a family friend’s wedding. Then the month before he’d had to go out to California for a meeting about another movie that would be filming in the summer, and that was the month after he’d gotten Trooper. You were thankful that you had been the lucky ADR assistant who’d struck up a conversation with him.

“I’m good. We finally finished that one scene with Mackie’s double, so at least that’s out of the way.” He was talking about one of the most dangerous stunts Marvel had actually let him do – they weren’t even letting Mackie do it. “You?”

“Finished up your dialogue earlier,” you responded. “And we had weird staff meeting.”

“Weird?”

“Russo’s came by. Taylor was sucking up. It was just weird.” He grinned. Your boss, Taylor, was probably one of the craziest guys you’d ever met in your life. And he worshipped the ground that the Russo brothers walked on.

“Yeah, that’s awkward. You ready? I got reservations at that Italian place, uh, Boccalupo?” He asked. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, I love that place!” The only time you’d ever been was your junior year when your parents were moving you in, but you weren’t going to say that. You felt bad for hiding it, but if he asked, you would tell him.

“Let me just find my keys and we can go, I was just cleaning up a little.”

“You’re fine,” you responded as he disappeared up the stairs, probably go to his bedroom. You pulled your romper down a little more, just so you could kneel to pet Trooper for another minute.

“Good boy,” you said to him as he offered you a paw. You’d taught him that trick last weekend.

“He’s been giving his paw to everybody,” Sebastian smiled as he walked back down the stairs, Jaguar keys in hand. “You should be a dog trainer.”

“Yeah, when I move out of my apartment I think I’m gonna rescue.”

“No pets?”

“Unless you have an ESA form, no pets.”

“That sucks. Honestly, I wasn’t even thinking of getting one. But then I saw Trooper and…”

“He’s a cute boy.” You watched Sebastian lock the door, then unlock his car in the same move. He laid a gigantic, warm hand on your back, walking you over to his car. He even opened your door for you, something a guy had… literally never done before. He shut the door and crossed over to his side to get in.

He was the ultimate gentleman. He poured your water for you, pulled your chair out for you, and even though you insisted he shouldn’t spend an outrageous amount of money on you he still paid for all of dinner. So when he suggested you get a couple drinks at a dive bar, you couldn’t say no. If anything, he said, you could just leave your car at his house and he could call you an Uber to come get it the next morning. He was quite possibly the sweetest man you’d ever been on a date with. And he had stories, tons of them, and his brain was something you could pick at and listen to and laugh with. You could spend and endless amount of time just listening to him. And when he put his hand on your back to walk you across the street to the bar, you could have just melted right into him.

“ID’s?” The bouncer asked. You reached into your purse and pulled out your bare license, thankful that the under 21 bar had been removed. Sebastian gave the ID’s over to the bouncer, who just smirked.

“Thank you,” Sebastian replied when the bouncer gave him his license back.

“22, huh?” The bouncer looked you up and down, scanning you, checking you out, and Sebastian’s hand on your back froze. “You’re a young one.”

“Uh, yeah,” you responded quietly. You sighed, looking over at Sebastian.

“You’re 22?” Sebastian asked. He sounded more curious than anything. You just nodded as the bouncer let you in. Thanks, asshat, you wanted to say.

“Yeah,” you said. Your heart fell into your stomach. Sebastian picked a booth and sat you down, and you prepared yourself for the I can’t date someone fifteen years younger than me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just…”

“Why didn’t you?” He asked. A waitress came up to the booth.

“What can I get you two?” She asked.

“Just whatever’s dark and on tap,” Sebastian answered, “and she…”

“Just a cider,” you responded. The waitress nodded and left. “Because I thought you would dump me before you figure it out.”

“I wasn’t going to dump you, first of all. I like you,” he said with a small smile. “But you gotta tell me the truth. I mean, I figured you were, because you’re an intern, but…”

“Yeah,” you sighed, nervously running a hand through your hair. “I’m a senior.”

“At least you mean college. Wait, you do mean college, right?” You cracked a smile. “There’s a smile.”

“Yeah. Are you sure you’re not pissed?” He shrugged.

“No. Honestly, if it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me. I’m just flattered you’d want to go out with an old guy like me.”

“You’re not old. You just play a guy who’s a hundred and something.” He laughed. The waitress came back with two bottles, putting them down on the table, and left again. “So why did you even ask me out? If you figured I’m so young.”

“Because you’re pretty. And smart. And you’re really good at your job. And you like my dog, and you’re great at training him. Because I like you.”

“I like you too.” Sebastian reached across the table and took your hand in his.

“So you wouldn’t hate it if I asked you out again?”

“I don’t think I would hate it. And I won’t judge you for your age if you won’t judge me for mine.”

“So?” Your roommate asked you later as you tried to sneak into the room. She was evidently waiting on you, even though she was on her bed scrolling through her phone. You put your purse down on the floor beside the door, then took off the wedges you’d been wearing. Sebastian was already half a foot taller than you, at least.

“He found out,” you responded, throwing your shoes into the basket you kept them all in. Your roommate’s face fell.

“Aww, I’m sorry.”

“But,” you continued. “He said it doesn’t bother him if it doesn’t bother me. And he asked me out again.” Your roommate’s face lit up this time.

“Ugh, I knew it! See, I told you you’re pretty enough to go out with him!” You smiled, starting to take your makeup off at your desk. “Did you do anything else?”

“No,” you laughed. “He kissed my cheek. And he said he can’t wait to see me on Sunday night.”

“Sunday night?”

“Sunday night!” Your phone chimed with a message from Sebastian.

See you Sunday. Had a great time :)

“Aww, it autocorrected to a smile emoji!” Your roommate said as she read your message.

“Just get back in bed!”

“22, huh?” The bartender asked on Sunday night, right as you handed him your ID. Sebastian’s hand squeezed your waist as you just laughed, handing the bartender your driver’s license.

“Yep,” you responded as you took it back. Sebastian ordered for the two of you and then sat you down at one of the stools. “I get it, I’m a baby.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said to you as you turned to him, laying your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your back and tugged you closer, then kissed your exposed temple. “But you’re my baby.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Will you be my very young girlfriend?”

“Only if you’ll be my somewhat older but not middle-aged boyfriend.” In a burst of course you sat up, looking into his blue eyes, and caught him in a smile. But you must have looked to his lips, too, because he leaned in. His lips were ridiculously soft. He tasted like the glass of wine you’d had at dinner.

“Sounds good to me,” he said after he broke the kiss. Your beers arrived at the same time a photo flashed from across the street. “So, that would be one of the people that likes to follow me and take pictures.”

“That’s just weird,” you responded. “I wonder how long it’ll take for them to figure out that I’m basically jailbait.”

“It’ll be fine. I know how to deal with this and the best thing to do is just let them speculate and don’t give them any answers they don’t need. We can go back into hiding, if you want.” You shook your head. A piece of hair fell in front of space and Sebastian pushed it back behind your ear.

“I think I’m done hiding things.”

“Yeah, me too.” He removed his hand to grab his beer bottle on the table. “The question is, kid, can you keep up?”

“Hey, can a kid do this?” You chugged the bottle in one go, slapping it back down on the counter.

“No, but I can.” Sebastian started chugging his own, then put it down. “So can I see where you live? Or do you have an age limit on those things?” You laughed.

“You can see where I live. As long as you forgive the bottles of wine we used as decorations.” He chuckled, picking up his car keys, and he threaded his fingers through yours as you started walking toward the bar’s exist.

A/N: This came out way less angsty than I intended it to, but I can’t imagine Sebastian being rude, lol. He seems like such a sweetie! I hope I did your request justice! 💕

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff

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doc-pickles · 4 years ago

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squeeze cheese, pandemics, & you

AKA the pandemic fic that literally everyone asked for

i still cannot believe that i actually wrote this BUT soooo many people asked me for a freaking pandemic fic that i wrote it. it’s crazy, a little messy, and the sass radiating from levi schmitt fuels my cold dead heart.

i’d like to personally thank @odd-birds-and-booksellers @kidneys4karev @choosingmywife and Nat AKA the “jolex mass grave” chat that bullied me into doing this. they’re also the heart and soul of ‘pandemic jo’ and really brought her and her mannerisms to life. cheers to you ladies, this fic is for you!!

and now... without further ado... the pandemic fic that i wrote most of at 10 pm while slightly tipsy (BONUS POINTS: it’s also another fix it fic bc i am traaaaash hehehe)

“Why do we have a nacho cheese dispenser?”

Jo looked up from her place on the couch, eyeing Levi as he stared at the new machinery in the kitchen. She turned her attention back to the soap opera on TV before answering him.

“Are you complaining?”

“No but-”

“Exactly.”

Settling back into the couch, Jo grabbed the bowl of apples that she had covered in nacho cheese earlier. She had developed a nasty online shopping habit since being in lockdown, but figured since she had sold off a good chunk of Alex’s belongings that she deserved to treat herself.

Worried sick that any exposure to the hospital or any of it’s doctors would harm her, Jo had been on a strict self-quarantine since March. Levi, having to choose between his job or place to live, was forced to reside with Jo full time. The past few weeks had been tough on both roommates, but their bond had been strong regardless of their arguments.

“I’m kind of concerned about your online shopping habit,” Levi sat on the other end of the couch from Jo, a plate of nachos in hand. “Between the nacho cheese machine and the ball pit, I have some questions about the vibe you’re trying to create here.”

“Hey I’ve never had a place to myself. I want to have fun! Let loose! Besides in a few months I’ll have to take care of someone else,” Jo patted her small baby bump affectionately. “I’m trying to be a cool mom and the ball pit was the first step.”

Ah yes, Jo’s unexpected pregnancy and the reason she was so paranoid about staying isolated. Three weeks after Alex had officially left, Jo had realized that he left her much more than just hospital shares and their loft. Four home tests later and a shoe thrown across the loft at Levi (“I’m just telling you Jo, false positives are really ra- OW!”) Jo had indeed confirmed her earlier suspicions.

“Well… for your sanity’s sake, I hope your online shopping doesn’t go completely off the rails,” a knock on the door interrupted Levi’s sentence, his eyes trailing to Jo accusingly. “If that’s another Amazon package, you’re going to have some explaining to do.” “Actually, it’s something even better,” Jo rolled her eyes, standing from the couch and grabbing what had been dropped on the doorstep. “It’s takeout! From the Italian place downtown with the really good spicy meatballs! It’s important that we support small businesses during these trying times.” “You sound like a walking capitalism ad,” Levi groaned, moving from the couch to the dining table and sitting across from Jo. “But if it keeps me well fed I can’t complain about that. Oh please tell me you’re not- yup that is squeeze cheese on the meatballs. That’s not right.”

+ “Hey have you seen- Ow! Why the hell did I just sit on knitting needles,” Levi held up the items in question as he stared down Jo. “Are you an 85 year old woman? When and why did you take up knitting?” “So I can make baby sweaters, duh,” Jo rolled her eyes and bit into her toast. “I’m not that great at it yet, but Helen has been teaching me over Skype. She’s an expert, she helped me make a baby hat but it’ll probably fit a baby doll before an actual human baby.”

“Okay wow, umm so many questions,” Levi pulled a chair over to where Jo was sitting, staring at her quizzically before jumping into his questions. “First, what is on your toast? Secondly, Helen as in your ex mother in law? And third, why are you sitting in the ball pit wearing a bucket hat and a bathing suit top?”

To his credit, Levi was asking sensible questions to Jo. She was indeed sitting in the ball pit she had bought online, eating a piece of toast with some questionable toppings and wearing an old pair of Alex’s boxers and a bikini top, a Seattle Seahawks bucket hat thrown carelessly on her head.

“The toast is nutella, swiss cheese, and strawberry jam, it’s like the trailer trash version of what you get at fondue places,” Jo took another bite as if to emphasize her point. “The bathing suit top is because my boobs are huge and won’t fit into my regular bras. Also my baby bump is growing larger by the day so I can’t fit into anything but sweatpants, but it’s way too hot in here for that. The bucket hat is because I was tired of staring at my unwashed hair in the mirror. And yes, Helen and I have become quite good friends and Skype every Tuesday while you go outside to call Helm for an hour and collect hospital gossip. She’s very excited she’s getting another grandchild and has begged me to come and visit once I bear the heir to the Karev name.”

“So you’re keeping your last name? And passing it onto the baby?”

Jo had spent many nights thinking long and hard about what to do with her last name. She had finally decided to change it but when she had found out she was pregnant, she knew that Alex’s side of the family would be the only real family her child would have. And after crying about it over Skype with her former mother in law, Helen had reassured Jo that she would be more than proud if she and her unborn child carried on the Karev name.

“Yes we’re both going to be Karev’s,” Jo sighed, hand coming down to her bare bump. “I don’t need to explain my decisions to you Levi.”

“Well I’m assuming that if you’re going to be staying a Karev that you’re going to tell Alex?”

Not wanting to answer Levi’s very direct question, Jo began to pelt him with the balls from the ball pit until he walked away towards the kitchen. Jo knew that she should pick up the phone and call Alex, that he had already missed so much of his other children growing up that he deserved to be there for everything for this one. But Jo was still angry and upset at Alex for leaving her alone. If he was still here, he’d probably be sitting in the ball pit with her, cracking jokes about her inability to knit.

But he wasn’t, Alex was halfway across the country and Jo couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and hear her husband's voice.

“For the last time Levi, I do not need anything from you! Stop asking me! And stop texting Meredith every two minutes!”

Jo walked from the couch to the bed, flopping down onto the surface as she let out a loud sigh. It had been eight weeks since she and Levi had been quarantined together, twelve since she had found out she was pregnant, and seventeen since she had actually fallen pregnant. The constant bouts of morning sickness and mood swings in close quarters with her pseudo friend/ roommate had not been easy, but Levi was being a trooper for his part.

“Come on Jo, Meredith just wants to make sure that you’re okay,” Levi pleaded, sinking down into the couch. “Don’t take her over compensating tendencies out on me.”

For her part, Jo understood where Levi was coming from. She knew that Meredith was over protective of her because of what had happened between her and Alex, but it didn’t mean that the situation bothered Jo any less. She was capable of taking care of herself and the life that was growing inside of her, pandemic be damned.

“Tell Meredith I’m fine and that I’m doing crossword puzzles and going to Zoom therapy sessions once a week,” Jo huffed, hands coming to rest over her eyes as she tried to understand why she had ever thought a one room loft was a good idea. “I don’t need you two hovering over me at all hours of the day.”

A loud banging sounded on the door of the loft, Jo and Levi exchanging looks before Levi scurried to the door to see who was there. The only visitors the two had had in the past few weeks were either Meredith or the grocery delivery guy, neither of which were allowed inside and neither of which pounded their door so loudly.

“Jo! Open the door, I know you’re home,” both Levi and Jo paused at the voice outside the door. Levi, who stood next to the front door, looked to Jo for guidance, but she had no direction to give. “Damn it Jo, open the door. I need to talk to you!” After a nod from Jo, Levi slid the door open, one hand coming up to stop Alex from storming into the loft. The sight of her ex husband for the first time in months made Jo’s stomach flip, her hand coming to cover her mouth so she didn’t scream in shock.

“Sorry, Jo doesn’t let anyone in the loft anymore,” Alex raised an eyebrow towards Levi, his expression angry and ready to challenge him. “Not even Meredith. There’s a pandemic happening, dude.”

Alex rolled his eyes, trailing them towards Jo who stood nervously in the kitchen now. If you knew her well enough, you could tell that her figure had changed in the past few weeks. Her breasts had filled out and her face was fuller because of the slight amount of weight she had put on. Alex couldn’t see from where he stood, but he assumed that her stomach had begun to curve outwards as well.

“Jo, I need to talk to you,” Alex wanted so badly to step closer to his ex wife, but he knew that Schmitt would try to stop him no matter what he did. “Mer called me, can we please talk?” Jo peaked around the corner of the kitchen, eyes taking in Alex’s nervous form. His stubble had grown out, his eyes seeming more tired than usual as they scanned over her body. A subconscious hand floated down to her stomach, Jo shielding her unborn baby from the fight that was about to ensue.

“You can do it from there, Alex,” Jo responded, eyebrows furrowing as she stared Alex down. “You can’t come in unless you’ve quarantined yourself for 14 days and you’ve been tested for COVID-19.”

“Leave it to you to be paranoid during a freaking pandemic,” Alex groaned, one hand coming up to run through his hair. He had driven straight through from Kansas to Washington, only stopping to pee on the side of the road every few hours. “Are you okay? You're…. feeling healthy and what not?” Schmitt, who had been quiet up until then, rolled his eyes in Alex’s direction. After spending every moment of the day with Jo, he knew that the question would piss her off to no end, regardless of who was asking it. He turned to her briefly, noting the pissed off expression on her face, then turned back to Alex.

“Jo is perfectly fine, she has been for the past few months without you,” Levi’s voice was firm and defiant to whatever Alex might counter him with. “And furthermore, I don't think either of us appreciate you showing up here unannounced. We are, may I remind you, in the middle of a pandemic.”

“I’m fine, Alex,” Jo took a step forward, coming further into Alex’s line of sight. Alex’s eyes trailed up and down her body, finally taking in the bump that had appeared on her normally flat stomach. “I do want to talk, I promise, but I can’t risk my health or… or our baby’s health right now. So come back in two weeks and I promise I will talk to you.”

The glare that Alex sends towards Schmitt sends the younger man reeling back, grasping for the door handle as he tries to shut Alex out of the loft. However, the older man’s voice rings through one last time before the door shuts completely. “I’m coming back for you, Jo,” Alex calls out, voice urgent and waiting for his lost love to hear him. “I’m coming back and you can’t stop me.”

Door firmly shut and locked, Levi turned to Jo, who seemed to be brimming with an odd mixture of anger and sadness. She ran her hands through her hair once, finally letting out a scream as she flopped back onto her bed.

“Well shit,” Jo groaned, hand slipping down the cradle her baby bump. “That’s just about the last thing I needed.”

“Did you order breakfast? Because this is delicious.”

Jo stepped out of the bathroom, eyes narrowing as she took in Levi and the huge bag of food in front of him. She hadn’t ordered anything, but since the bag was clearly labeled from her favorite diner, she could only assume where it had come from.

“Pretty sure you know who sent this,” Jo reached into the bag and grabbed a breakfast burrito, unwrapping it and slathering it in Easy Cheese and hot sauce. “I want to be mad about that, but I really can’t. This is the best thing I’ve eaten in awhile.”

“It’s been five days, has he said anything to you,” Levi asked, eyes cautiously floating to Jo. While they’d grown closer in quarantine, the one thing that Jo never wanted to talk about was Alex. Now that he was here though, Levi thought that maybe she would be more open about the subject.

“He’s texted a few times, assured me that he’s staying by himself and that he hasn’t even seen Meredith,” Jo shrugged, one hand coming down to touch her stomach. The once small bump had seemed to balloon in the past week, almost as if her unborn child was trying to show off for their father. “She’s mad at me now, saying that my paranoia is interfering with their friendship. But we haven’t really talked yet.”

To be fair, Alex had been texting Jo a lot since he had showed up at their door and confirmed with his own two eyes that she was pregnant. And if she wasn’t lying straight to Levi’s face currently, she would tell him that she had been texting Alex back. They had talked mostly about the baby, the rest of the world being a subject neither of them wanted to broach. Kansas hadn’t come up either, but Jo had a feeling that maybe everything wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows if Alex hadn’t hesitated in showing up at her door.

“I think it says a lot that he came back, you know,” Levi shrugged as he grabbed a tater tot from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “I mean he said he left for his kids but the first word he hears about you he drives all the way here. That’s a good man for you.” “Well he wouldn’t have had to drive all the way back if he didn’t go there in the first place,” Jo huffed angrily, dropping the rest of her burrito onto the table with a frustrated groan. “I’m going to take a shower.” “You just took one,” Levi countered, a confused look appearing on his face.

“Well unfortunately that’s the only place in this stupid loft that I can sit in silence,” Jo exclaimed, hands coming up in an angry gesture. “If you make it out of here alive it’ll be a miracle, Schmitt.” + “I swear if you don’t back up right now, I’m going to lose my mind!” “Okay but you’re-”

“I told you I’m fine Schmitt, back up!”

The raised voices alarmed Alex as he approached the loft, bringing his keys out to unlock the door instead of knocking. Relieved to find that Jo hadn’t changed the locks, Alex slid the door open and stepped into the loft unnoticed by the bickering roommates.

“I just think if you’re in pain you should go in,” Levi’s hands were held up defensively as he stood in front of Jo. “I’m no expert on pregnancy, but that can’t be a good sign.” “You’re in pain? What’s wrong?” Both Levi and Jo whipped around at the sound of Alex’s voice, the latter holding a hand firmly against her stomach. The glares that she was shooting in his direction didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he brushed it off as he was overwhelmed with worry for Jo. Alex noticed that even in the short time it had been since he had seen her last, Jo’s bump seemed to have grown.

“You shouldn’t be here. I’m fine,” Jo tried to sound convincing but her voice faltered as she winced. “Seriously I’m okay. Stop looking at me like I’m some shelter puppy that’s about to be put down. I can take care of myself, I’ve been doing it for awhile now. And you need to get out of here, you’ve only been quarantined for like a week.”

Despite her best efforts, Jo had exhausted herself scolding Alex and felt breathless almost immediately. Settling her free hand on the arm of the couch, Jo tried to be inconspicuous as she sat down, but both men next to her were watching her closely.

“Where does it hurt,” Alex asked as he sat next to Jo, unfazed by her outburst at him.

“I told you I’m fine!”

“She’s been breathless and clutching her lower right quadrant for about half an hour,” Schmitt offered up, Jo immediately tossing a throw pillow in his direction. “I’m trying to be helpful! You haven’t been in pain this whole entire time.”

“Go be helpful in the bathroom Schmitt! I don’t need both of you hovering around me and I know that he won’t leave,” Jo gestured to Alex vaguely as she took another deep breath, leaning over as she clutched her stomach again. “Go!”

Levi ran off, Jo letting out an aggravated sigh as soon as he left the room. A few tears sprinkled Jo’s cheeks as she rubbed her hand into her stomach.

“I’m fine I just… can’t catch my breath and my stomach has some localized pain,” Jo didn’t fight Alex off when he placed his palm gently next to hers, his larger hand almost covering her whole bump. “I’m okay, I swear I’m fine. The baby’s fine and it’s okay and nothing is wrong.”

As Jo rambled more, her tears began to fall harder, breaths coming in short gasps as she leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder. Doing his best to comfort and assess her at the same time, Alex rubbed his hand gently against her stomach. A few light kicks met his hand, tears threatening to fall as Alex felt his child move for the first time. Once he was satisfied that Jo had calmed down, he spoke up, sure his crooked grin was showing in full force.

“Well, you’re not dying,” Alex chuckled, his fingers moving lightly against Jo’s stomach as he explained what she was feeling. “Baby’s lodged up here, in your rib, and when they kick, they knock the air out of your lungs. I can feel their head down here, which means their legs are stretching out and kicking up towards your diaphragm. That’s why you feel so out of breath. If you’re lucky, I can try and coax them out of their tight spot.”

Jo barely nodded, eyes closed as she continued to lean against Alex and take deep breaths. He moved one hand up to where he felt the baby’s feet and gave a slight push, Jo groaning loudly as they shifted. Alex waited a moment, grinning when he felt a small kick against the lower left side of Jo’s stomach.

“Oh god,” Jo let a gasp out, eyes flying open as she laid her hand over Alex’s. “Oh, I can breathe again! I haven’t been able to breathe since 2 AM. Jesus that feels so much better.”

Alex took Jo in with a sense of awe, observing all of the changes he had missed about her. She had cut her hair short again, the locks just brushing her shoulders, and her cheeks had filled out more. The way she had eased into her pregnancy made him smile, knowing that she had always had a maternal instinct hidden underneath her hard exterior. Alex eyed the chain across Jo’s neck that held two silver rings, but said nothing about it.

“Easy trick, just remember that if they get themselves twisted around again. Your OB didn’t show you that,” Alex watched Jo turn her head towards his shoulder, burying her face and mumbling something incoherent. “I can't hear you when you’re hiding your face like that.”

“I haven’t been to my OB,” Jo muttered, eyes focusing on Alex’s hand that still sat under hers. “Not since I confirmed I was pregnant.”

“You’re a doctor, you know better than that,” Alex knew that Jo would never avoid something this important without a reason, so he didn’t go into a full on rant like he wanted to. “Why haven’t you gone in, Jo?”

“Because I can’t leave the house! I’m so scared that if I leave something will happen to the baby and,” Jo inhaled deeply, her free hand coming up to wipe at her eyes. “This baby is the only thing keeping me sane, it’s the last connection I have to you… and I just can’t risk that. I’ve already hurt too much this year, I don’t need more heartbreak. I’m a doctor, I’ll know if something is wrong and I can go in then. I’m fine here, I don’t need to leave.”

Alex stared at Jo for a long moment before pulling her fully into his embrace. He knew the way he had left her was cruel, but at the time his brain had been so turned around that he couldn’t see another option than breaking the heart of the woman he loved most.

“Izzie is remarried. She… her kids call him dad and he’s uh, he’s a good guy. She said that I can bring the kids here for a few weeks during the summer if I wanted to but I don’t belong in Kansas,” Alex pulled back and looked at Jo, tears streaking down her face and wide eyes staring up at him. “I’m sorry Jo, I know I screwed up and I should’ve just talked to you when I found out but I was so freaked out that I just… ran. But I wanna be here, with you and this baby and I wanna take care of you. It’s always been you, Jo.”

Jo sniffled, both hands running over her face quickly in an effort to dry some of her tears. She fixed Alex with a serious stare, eyes meeting his for the first time that day.

“You have a lot of making up to do. And you’re gonna have to be the one to kick Levi out,” Jo motioned towards the bathroom, where she could hear faint cheers echoing from. “And… if you promise to get me cheesecake afterwards, I will go to see my OB this week.”

“I told you,” Levi strutted out of the bathroom, a satisfied smirk on his face. “That’s a good man you have there.”

“Oh shut up!”

#jolex #alex karev #greys anatomy #jo wilson #jo karev #jo x alex #jolex fanfic #nina writes #jolex fic #grey’s anatomy fanfic

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delldarling · 4 years ago

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always, we return | hyrian

This was March’s Story of the Month over on Patreon! Can you tell that the weather sometimes influences the subject of my stories? non-binary rain elemental x gender neutral reader 2.5k words sfw | one showing of blatant interest, mention of drinking, but otherwise read more is for length!

The sound of the rain is making you strangely drowsy.

It shouldn’t be. You’re cold as hell, sitting on the front porch of your new house at midnight, nursing a drink one of your roommates made to celebrate. The false heat the alcohol had made inside you seemed a little too hot, so you thought that stepping outside might give you a jump to your system Might wake you with the snap of the cold. Instead, the heavy rain pouring into the yard and onto the street has you blinking your eyes furiously to keep them open.

The droning noise is just so soothing.

You suck in another deep breath, trying to relish the sear in your lungs - maybe you are fighting it - but then you’re distracted by the figure in the rain. They walk slowly, like they’re walking with something heavy on their legs or their shoulders, the rain bouncing off of them, creating a strange kind of misty aura. You… You can’t see them. Just their shape, the splash of their feet in the growing puddles, some kind of walking stick in their arm that they swing back and forth. They’re invisible. Their clothes, their body, the stick in their hand- everything about them is invisible.

The lethargy builds, until you’re swaying in your seat on the porch stairs, eyes narrowed as you try to focus, because- because that can’t be right? Can it? And then you feel the weight of their eyes, can see a spark-like gleam where their eyes should be and wind chimes seem to echo in your ears-

You wake, finding yourself back inside on the couch. Cold morning light fills the living room and casts shadows over one of your roommates, sleeping soundly on the floor next to you. Obviously they’d drawn the short straw and remained nearby to make sure you were alright.

“What the fuck was that?” You whisper into the silent room, heart racing loud enough to nearly drown out your words.

Outside, the rain continues.

Once everyone is awake and recovered from the previous evening, you fully expect someone to bring up what happened. To make some kind of mention as to how they found you outside and hey, what were you doing out there anyway? But no one says anything. It’s almost 2 in the afternoon before you finally breach the topic, clutching nervously at a glass of water on the counter.

“Did I pass out on the porch last night?” You ask, forcing yourself to take a sip. The motion helps, even if you don’t feel thirsty, which is, frankly, odd. You were drinking last night, you know you were, but you haven’t felt any kind of ill effects at all. Everyone else has been doubling up on water or gatorade since they got up, and here you feel… Normal.

“Did you?” One of your roommates asks, but that feels like it’s going to be the extent of the conversation until you keep talking.

“Yeah? I mean. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep out there. And I saw something really weird.” As soon as you get the story out, as soon as you explain the strange chiming noise you’d heard and the abnormal drowsiness, everyone treats it like some half remembered story.

“It sounds like some kind of fever dream. Or maybe you were just really drunk - though I swore you didn’t-” Your roommate trails off, and then brings up a prior appointment, rushing through a goodbye to you and then calling out goodbyes to your other housemates before they’re out the door. When they leave, you see the rain still cascading over the street, filling the gutters, opaque where it reflects the heavy clouds above, and then the door closes, leaving you staring at nothing but pale paint.

The rest of the day, all you can think about is the continued rain. You check the weather multiple times, half afraid that the rain will clear up before nightfall, before you can slip outside unnoticed. Even though part of you does wonder if it was some kind of hallucination, brought on by drink and tiredness.. You also can’t help but wonder if seeing what you did requires some kind of special stipulation. Maybe it’s like those fantasy or sci-fi shows where only one person can see the ghost because they ate strawberries or they’re distantly related. Regardless, seeing the figure felt special, and you really would like to see it again, if only to prove that you weren’t imagining things.

As soon as it’s dark, and you know that no one else is going to be coming and going through the front door, you slip out onto the porch. You’re not as warm as you were the night before. This time you aren’t bolstered with alcohol in your veins, falsely warming you from the belly outward, and the rain has been going for long enough that everything is vaguely chilly. You want to go back inside and grab a blanket or a coat, but in the back of your mind, you’re almost convinced that the moment you do is when the figure will appear once more. You’ll miss it, them, their cold eyes shining through the sheets of rain, their body obviously solid, but invisible to your eye. You stay outside until you’re tired and aching, staring out at the downpour without any kind of excuse to keep you here. There’s no strange lethargy rolling over you either tonight, just a steadily growing grumpiness from subjecting yourself to such discomfort.

“I suppose that’s it then,” you whisper, letting a yawn well up and close your eyes. “Time to go in,” you add, turning and reaching for the front door handle. As soon as your fingertips touch the cool metal, a sudden intangible weight seems to drag at your heels. Faint chimes echo amidst the rain, growing louder as you turn your head to glance back over your shoulder- And then you see them.

They’re in the street again.

This time they aren’t moving. They’re still invisible, still only noticeable because of the rain bouncing off of the seemingly empty space of their body. And their eyes - like cool sparks or the reflection of passing headlights on hidden bits of polished metal. They’re watching you, tracking your every movement as you turn to face them, shocked into silence for an extended period of time. What are you supposed to say now?

“Am I dreaming?” You can’t help asking, breath coming fast and sharp, the chill of the rainy night making your fingers ache the longer you watch them. You clasp your hands together, trying to chafe them into some semblance of warmth when there isn’t any kind of immediate response. You’re not sure as to whether you expect them to answer - maybe they’ll just keep on going? Or maybe they can’t speak, and then you’ll have to pick out clues that they share through mud puddles or- It doesn’t matter. You’re still not sure as to whether this is even reality, because honestly, you’ve never even heard of something like this- But then their voice fills your ears, watery, eerie, every punctuation to their words a well timed drip into a puddle or splatter over the rooftops.

You walk the waking realm. And you See.

Their words are.. Balanced, between irritation and awe, like they should be unhappy with this information, but have found themselves strangely, unexpectedly, amused instead.

“It’s… Good to know I’m awake,” you say, and then stop, blinking, ready for them to vanish from sight. “And, yes? I do see you.” It seems like the most obvious answer in the world, but then they’re walking closer, the cold gleam of their eyes growing clearer. You still can’t see them, not the entirety of them, their body or their features, but their shape is there, visible in the rain. “I- does that mean that others generally can’t? Or that your presence makes people forget? Because I have a few ques-”

Can you Touch? They ask, overeager, and you’re fairly sure their hands are curled around the railing on your porch now. The moisture on it is vanishing, leaving behind two dry shapes like handprints, though they’re oddly shaped and look to have three fingers each.

“Touch what?” You ask, wanting to kick yourself, or to take back the words. A myriad of follow ups fly through your mind - do they mean yourself, or the rain? You finally settle on the idea that they must mean them, can you touch them, but you’re a tad too shy to give voice to it.

They aren’t shy though. They don’t answer at first, but rain splatters the porch railing again, and then their hands are curling around your wrists, cool and fluid and- their touch feels like raindrops. You’re still dry, and there’s definite weight to their hands around your wrists, but it’s as if their heartbeat is so strong against their skin that you can feel it with every brush, in time with every pitter-patter of rain across the ground, on the street, on the tree tops. The taste of fresh rain permeates every breath you take, and their eyes grow closer and closer, until they stop just shy of your face. They don’t blink, but a second pair of hands smooths over your shoulders and then strokes back up to your neck until they’re cradling your face. The rain is coming down harder.

Too few can Touch and we miss it. The warmth. The brightness that humans bring.

“We? Are there more of you?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder, worried suddenly about the second pair of hands belonging to someone you’d yet to notice, but they keep you focused on them, still cradling your cheeks, touch just strong enough to keep you still.

Water, they say. Rain. We journey across the world, we scatter, but always we return to the sky. The sound of their voice and the way they speak is so rhythmic, that you’re fairly sure their speech was what sent you to sleep yesterday. It was slower then though, and softer, harder for you to actually make out the spoken words… They might have asked you a question, now that you think about it. Once, they continue, rain drop touch trailing over your parted lips, humans recalled their connection with Us. But so few of you carry Us now-

“Carry us. Carry. Okay, uh, do you… have a name?” You ask, freezing when your tongue brushes over what feels like a water droplet on your lower lip. They don’t admonish you though, or even acknowledge that you might have licked something of their body. Heat still zips through you like lightning though, and you would be looking away if you could see any kind of expression on their face.

Hyrian, they murmur, sighing as they pull away. You can still see the spark of their eyes, can still taste the clean rain on the air, but you have to cross your arms over your middle, concerned about touching them without invitation. Part of you is highly tempted to look up stories of invisible people now, if only to know how to navigate conversing with.. With Hyrian. With rain.

It has been an age since we have been Seen. Would you be opposed to us returning? To courting?

The question leaves you staring, minding spinning with worried thoughts about whether or not you’re looking at their face or whether you’re just staring past them. What if- what if they think you can actually see all of them and you’ve accidentally lied?

“I- Okay, so wait. I can see your eyes, your- the shape of you. Like a shadow, or an outline, but not you entirely. I swear, I’m not trying to lie, and if you’re asking because you think that I-”

Hyrian laughs and the tree branches and power lines near by rattle and shake as water cascades off them into the street. Worry not, you see us correctly. If we took more form we would still not be.. Solid. Perhaps more opaque.

“Ah. Awesome, and then.. well, we’ve just met, and you’re- You’re magic? I’m not sure why you want to court me.” You try, hoping that isn’t offensive.

Hyrian’s voice turns wistful. Once humans would seek us out, would journey into the wild places looking for us, if only to spend a night in our company. We’d only just met them, Hyrian reveals, almost teasing in tone. Let us attempt to court you, to show you why those humans would come back from the wilds rejuvenated and carrying tales of being loved by wind or water itself.

“I need to think it over,” you blurt, but you don’t sense any kind of unhappiness from them. The rain is still steady and their eyes, unblinking, are still focused on your face.

The sweet sounding wind chimes echo through the street again, finally turning Hyrian’s attention away from you. You don’t know what the chimes mean, if they’re summoning Hyrian, or if they herald some kind of arrival, but it keeps them facing away from you for longer than a few seconds. When they turn back, their eyes look smaller, tired, but no less kind.

If not for courting, then for friendship, let us return? We will not press to be your suitor, but we do crave companionship and speech. Humans are so much brighter, you see.

You might not know how to feel about a rain spirit asking to court you, but you do know that you want to see them again. You don’t even have to think twice about their question this time, you stick out your hand, pulse pounding and offer them a smile.

“I would like that, Hyrian,” you say warmly. That drumming beat of rain held captive under their skin has you shivering. Two of their hands close over your one, gentle in grip, but strong, and even after they let go of you, the thrum of their touch lingers.

Then we shall return. Look for us at the next crest of clouds, we will be close behind.

And then the rain slows. You can still feel them, can still see their eyes gleaming, but the less rain there is, the more they truly fade into nonbeing. For the second time in two days, you grow drowsy out on your porch, listening to the chimes on the air, but this time you watch Hyrian fade from view. Even after they’re gone, you stay where you are, eyes searching the now quiet street, the only sounds that of cars far off in the distance, the last remnants of water rolling off of eaves and drain spouts. You make your way inside and into bed, this time all on your own merit, and start drafting up the questions you have for Hyrian. You can’t forget their touch though, the buzz of it lingering on your hand and forearm. The sensation follows you, even into your dreams.

#monster lover #exophilia #elemental x reader #rain spirit x reader #d.darling writes #hyrian

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penaltbox · 5 years ago

Note

Like what if ur in a no strings situation w beech or owen or whoever and something bad or stressful happened in ur life so u’ve been kind of down lately but haven’t talked w him ab it because ur supposed to just be fuckbuddies & one day he invites u over & when ur either making out he realizes something’s wrong w how ur acting & he becomes really concerned & ur caught off guard cause u didn’t think he’d care but he does & so u confide in him in that way for the first time & it’s a turning point

Okay I actually loved writing this 🥰

—

“It’s just a chain of bad luck. I’ll survive this, right?” You ask nervously, looking over at your roommate.

She gives you a smile, trying to sound reassuring as she replies, “of course, you’re like smartest person I know. Plus we’ll go have some fun this weekend to get your mind off it.”

You take a deep breath, hoping she was right. You were having possibly the worst week ever. You’d overslept Tuesday morning and missed your important calc lecture (which had impromptu quizzes so you most likely missed one), you hadn’t done nearly as well on a lab report as you needed to, and you just found out you were turned down for a job in one of the research labs over the summer all in a matter of three days.

“I’ve got this. I can do this,” you tell yourself, trying to make it your new mantra. You’re about to repeat it and start on some notes when your phone buzzes. Oh right, there was that problem too.

You really thought you could handle a hook up. You figured it would be easy and you could cut it off if things started to get too deep. No strings attached couldn’t be that hard. You totally missed the cut off though and now you were always trying to dodge the feelings that came up about him all the time, but it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

“Is that lover boy?” Your roommate asks over her shoulder, the little smirk on her face making you blush, “shouldn’t he be at hockey practice?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, opening the message right away, “maybe he got done early.”

‘Come over tn’ was all it said but it still made your heart race a little. This was stupid. You needed to cut this off... like maybe next week.

‘What time?’

You shake your head knowing it didn’t matter what his answer was. You’d be there regardless. You distract yourself with homework, remembering all the things you’d missed this week, and trying to get as much done as you could.

Eventually you get ready, always making him wait a little longer than when he told you to be there. You don’t know if he noticed, but it added to the thrill a bit for you.

“Johnny,” you smile as he opens the door, immediately pulling you in for a hug. There was something about those big warm hugs that made you never want to give them up.

You let him lift you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist. He laughs lightly, carrying you over to his bed and sitting down with you in his lap. He starts to kiss along your jawline, hands carefully slipping up your sweatshirt.

“Mm, glad you came over,” he mumbles between kisses, “haven’t heard from you since Monday.”

You try and ignore it, knowing you’d avoided him for many different reasons, and wanting to forget all of them for the time being. You turn your cheek, kissing him hard to get him to be quiet, which he eagerly returns.

You tangle one hand in his curls as the other grips onto his shirt like it’s your life saver. You feel him smirk into the kiss a little and you turn your head suddenly, letting him move down your neck. You focus on taking a few deep breaths when he freezes underneath you.

“Are you okay? Something seems a little off,” he says, pulling back to look you in the eye. When did he start noticing things like this? Were you being obvious?

You shrug it off, quickly saying, “I’m fine, I swear. Why?”

He frowns, looking you over again, “I don’t know that I believe that. Did something happen?”

“I don’t want to bother you with it. That’s not what we do here,” you whisper, knowing that would only cross more lines.

Johnny reaches up, putting a finger under your chin to make you look at him, “just because we sleep together doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings or a life. If you need to talk about something you can always tell me.”

You hesitate, wondering if it was really a good idea. It might be good to get it off your chest to an unbiased party though. So you spill everything about the classes and the research job, but you hold back on the whole falling for him part of it. He didn’t need to know that.

He nods, listening to it all and rubbing a hand on the side of your thigh during the explanation. He waits until you have a chance to calm back down from it to talk.

“You seem really smart, I’m not gonna lie,” he starts off, “but maybe that wasn’t a good department to apply to. It sounds like they wanted an older student so maybe look at different departments on campus. I can ask the academic advisors for athletics if they know of anything.”

You smile, kissing his nose, “you don’t have to do that, but I appreciate it. And I remember now that my professor drops one quiz grade for calc so if I did miss one then I’m in the clear.”

“I think there was more to your worries too because you still look hesitant, but I won’t push you if you don’t want me to know. But I do care about you, ya know, so you can always talk to me about normal life stuff.”

He emphasizes it with the sweetest kiss he’s ever gave you and it makes your head spin a little and your heart spin a lot. You didn’t think he’d ever say that type of thing and it makes you wonder what it means for the two of you moving forward. You really weren’t ready to tell him how you felt, but from the way he said it, maybe you wouldn’t need to cut this thing off any time soon.

#johnny beecher #michigan hockey #my blurbs #mine #my writing

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yoonguurt · 5 years ago

Text

For the grade

Genre: enemies to lovers

Warnings: smut; fingering

Word count: 5,506

Y/N and Jaebum hate each other. What happens when they''re forced to work together for a school project?

You liked to life with as little negativity as possible. Sure, you had bad days, but you went through those knowing that it was simply a bad day and the next would likely be better. You really didn't have anything to complain about.Your friends were great, supportive people, your family as well. You had just one rainy cloud in your sunshine life. Lim Jaebum.

It's not like you wanted to hate Jaebum, you didn't. In fact, you really wanted to like him, you had tried to like him. He just made that near impossible. He was rude and cold. When you first met him, you wondered how someone you had just met could already hate you so much. You had met last year at your best friend Mark's end of the year party. Mark had moved into an off campus apartment and he and his roommate had decided to through the party this year. You got there early to help Mark set everything up. When you knocked on the door, Jaebum answered, scowl on his face. He merely grunted at your presence and moved aside to let you in. Throughout the night, he either acted upset at your being around or ignored you completely.

So here you were, beginning of your senior year of college, still dealing with Jaebum's shitty attitude. You had long since given up on trying to be civil and treated him as he treated you. You were supposed to meet up with Mark for coffee today, but he texted you this morning saying he felt ill. Being the good friend you were, and not trusting him to take care of himself, you decided to head to his apartment with medicine, soup and juice to take care of your best friend. The fact that Jaebum had classes all day today, made your decision that much easier. Mark had given you a spare key for emergencies, so once you arrived, you just went ahead and let yourself in.

Setting your supplies on the counter, you turned to the cabinet and grabbed a bowl and a glass. You set those on the counter, and turned back around to grab the soup. Reaching for the can, you looked up when you heard a voice. "How did you get in here?" Standing before you, stood a shirtless Jaebum. Without even meaning to, your eyes scanned down his chiseled form. You had never realized just how cut the man was. You hated to admit it, but he looked good. "You gonna stare all day or are you gonna give me an answer?" his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "Mark gave me a key" you replied, voice laced with annoyance, "and for Pete's sake go put some clothes on." You turned around to continue your tasks, not noticing the smirk on Jaebum's face as he walked away.

When you finished heating the soup, you knocked in Mark's bedroom door, only to be met with some form of groan. Taking that as permission, you opened the door only to see a Mark size lump on the bed. Yanking the blanket off of his head, he let out another whine before turning to face you. "What the hell, Y/N?" Why are you here?" his voice was rough, either from sleep or sickness. You chuckled lightly before replying "Well, I know you and I knew you wouldn't take care of yourself so here I am." He gave you a small smile and you made him sit up so he could eat.

"I'm just saying that he didn't have to act like I broke in or something. Why is he even here, doesn't he have classes all day? And does he always walk around half naked? I mean-" your rant was interrupted by an obviously annoyed Mark. "Y/N, don't take this the wrong way but I'm sick and I really don't want to hear about the crush denial you have for JB." You actually reeled back as if you had been slapped. You? Crush? Jaebum? Absolutely not. No way. Not if he was the last man on Earth. Turning to Mark, you narrowed your eyes. "I do not have a crush on him." You were met with Mark's stupid smirk, the one he gets when he thinks he's right. "I mean it. I hate him." you continued only to still see that smirk. "Sure, Y/N. Whatever you say".

For the next week, you were at Mark and Jaebum's every day taking care of Mark. By the fourth day, you were pretty sure he was faking so you'd keep taking care of him, but you did it anyway. What are best friends for, right? On day five, Jaebum was home all day and that was an annoyance. The day was filled with snide comments and looks of dislike from the both of you. Mark had tried to get you two to at least be civil to no avail. He had even yelled once, something about both of your actions being a sham, but neither of you paid attention. You both just told him to hush and go lie back down. Finally, your time playing nurse was over and you could focus on yourself and your classes.

As a photography major, you took your classes very seriously. You had always had an eye for pictures. You could look at the most mundane things and immediately find a way to make them look beautiful through a lens. You knew all the right angles to turn any random thing into art. Being in a college where you could learn better ways to use those talents, was something you considered a great honor. You even shared a class with some film majors, which you were excited about. Getting to learn about video editing was going to be really neat. Until you got to said class and saw a familiar face. Lim Jaebum. Was there any escaping this man?

Ignoring the empty seat next to the smirking man, you walked to the other side of the room and found a seat there. Sure, you couldn't see the board very well and this particular area smelled odd, but you were far enough away from the thorn in your side that was Jaebum. Your professor introduced himself and began the class as you took as many notes as you could. As the lecture ended, he announced that the class would be divided into pairs and work through the semester on a project. You would receive your partner in an email. The project itself was up to the two of you. The only requirement was it had to be a 5 minute video about something you were both equally passionate about. You were slightly thrown off at being assigned a project on the first day, but excited.

You had been checking your email religiously for two days. You wanted to know who you were partnered with. The thought of getting to know someone new was nice, but you really wanted to start brainstorming on ideas. There was also a little nervousness. What if you and your partner had no common interests? How were you going to complete your project then? Mark had gotten tired of you staying planted by your computer, so he forced you out to get lunch with him. He even took your phone, which you thoroughly protested. "Staring at your screen isn't going to make the email come any faster, Y/N. Take a break and enjoy lunch with me." Realizing he was right, you let the project drift to the back of your mind and just enjoyed yourself.

A couple of hours later, you were returned to your home. You grabbed your laptop, thinking you'd check one more time before you set off to do something else for a while. Clicking your email tab, you noticed the notification for a new email in your inbox. You quickly clicked it, seeing it was indeed from your professor. Taking a breath and calming your nerves, you opened it. Your mind fluttered through so many thoughts before you read through the message. You still really hoped you and your partner had at least one thing in common, but you were determined to make it work regardless. You eyes scanned through the words to find your partner's name. Shit. Fuck. This was not good. There at the bottom was the name of your partner. Lim Jaebum. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Grabbing your phone, you immediately hit Mark's name and pressed the phone to your ear. After a few rings, Mark's voice comes through the speaker. You don't even let him finish his sentence before you launch into your rant. "Mark, this is bad. I just got my email and my partner is Jaebum. What am I supposed to do? We have nothing in common! We hate each other. We have months to work on this and we aren't going to be able to get anywhere I'm gonna fail." When you stopped to take a breath, Mark took the opportunity to start speaking. "You need to stop being so dramatic, Y/N. I'm positive you guys have something in common, you just have to stop being assholes to each other long enough to figure out what that is." As much as you HATED to admit it, he was right. This was an issue you would have to set aside for your grade. With a huff, you prepared your reply "Tell him to meet me at the campus cafe in 20 minutes." You hung up and sighed again. This was going to be a long semester.

You arrived at the cafe 10 minutes early. You just wanted to get the concept down, get a plan together and get out. You ordered a coffee, sat down and scrolled through your phone until a figure slid into the seat across from you. Expecting it to be Jaebum, you looked up with a scowl already on your face. Instead, you found a man you didn't know facing you. "Sup. I'm BamBam. You looked lonely over here all by yourself." Oh crap. This was the exact opposite of what you wanted. You politely thanked him for the thought, but you were waiting for someone. "Aw come on, baby, don't be like that." he started before a hand roughly on his shoulder. "You heard her, kid. Beat it." Looking up to see who your savior was, you were a bit shocked. Jaebum had never done a nice thing for you before, but there's a first for everything.

After your unwanted guest had left, Jaebum sat in the chair across from you. You were briefly distracted by the way his hair fell in his face in such a beautiful way, you wouldn't even have to mess with the angle that much to make a wonderful picture. You quickly shook your head to rid yourself of such ridiculous thoughts and cleared your throat to get Jaebum's attention. "Look, I know neither of us are happy with this arrangement, but I don't plan on getting a failing grade so we need to try to work around our dislike for each other. As of now, I know nothing about you or your interests, so why don't you tell me a little bit about what you like?" He sat there for a brief moment before sliding you a small piece of paper with a number written on it. He looked at you as his lips parted to speak, "I'll go along with whatever you want. Just call me when you decide" then he stood up and left. Yepp. This was going to be a real shitty semester.

As you walked back to your apartment, you pulled out your phone, dialing Mark's number. He answered with sass, as he always did. "If you called to bitch about JB, save your breath. I'm not listening to it." Of course, that had been what you were going to do, points to Mark on that one. You raced through topics to talk about as quickly as possible before settling on a way to find out Jaebum's interests. "Actually, he didn't give me much information, but I still want to try to make this work, so I called you. What are some of the things he's really passionate about?" You felt silly asking Mark this, but you needed to figure out how to incorporate both of your interests, pride be damned. Mark was silent for a while before you finally asked if he was still there. "Yeah. Thinking. He likes, uh, his cats?" You instantly frowned. Cats? Really? You loved cats but is that the best he could come up with? "Oh! And music! He's really into making music." Music, huh? That's something you could work with.

You hung up with Mark as you walked through your apartment door. You set your phone down and sat down at your laptop, pulled up a word document and began to type an outline for your project. Your plan as of now was to have a music video of sorts. Jaebum could use one of his songs as the music and the video could have some beautiful shots from your photographer's eye. You would each have something you were passionate about in the video. In your mind, it was perfect. Now, you just had to run it by Jaebum. Despite what he said at the cafe, a big part of you felt like he would shoot it down just because it was your idea. Making up your mind that sooner was better than later, you sent him a text explaining your idea. Almost immediately, your phoned dinged with a new message telling you to meet him back at the cafe in 10 minutes. Sighing at having to go right back out, you grabbed your keys and walked out of the door.

Opening the cafe door, you scanned the room, finding Jaebum already there. That was a bit surprising, but you made your way over and took a seat. Before you had even fully sat, he spoke in a harsh tone, "How do you know about my music?" Really? You had to come back to the cafe just to answer a question he could have asked you in a message? "I wanted to make something that had both of our passions in it, not just mine. So, I called Mark and the options he gave me were music and cats. I love cats, but I don't really want to make this video about just cats" you replied with an emotionless tone. He sat and thought about your words for a moment. "Ok, but if we do this, we're doing it my way. You get say, it's your grade too, but this is my music and I want it done right." You agreed that as long as your input was taken into consideration and it wasn't all about him, that this could work.

One week later, you were on your way to Mark and Jaebum's place to give input on song options for the video. You didn't really like the thought of being in their apartment without Mark, but you were excited about starting on the project. Knocking on the door, you felt a sudden urge to run, and you weren't sure why. It was just Jaebum. Sure, you didn't like the guy, but you had no reason to be nervous around him. You pushed the nervous feeling away just in time for him to open the door. He stepped aside to let you in, and gestured to the kitchen counter where there was a whole buffet's worth of food. "I asked Mark what you liked and he gave me a big list so I just got it all" he said rubbing the back of his neck as if he were nervous or embarrassed. You just stood there for a moment, a little shocked, before thanking him. Was Jaebum being nice to you?

You grabbed a small plate of food and the two of you ate in silence. It wasn't as awkward as you had thought it would be, it was actually strangely comfortable. When you were finished, Jaebum led you to the spare bedroom. Well, what you thought was the spare bedroom. Once he opened the door, you realized that he had a small studio set up there. He went straight to his laptop as you sat on the couch. He informed you he had two songs he was thinking of for the video. The first was a more upbeat song, the second being a slower, love type song. As you listened to the latter, you felt your heart ache in the most beautiful way. It was about love not being reciprocated, and your mind was already flooded with ideas. When it was finished, you gave him a sincere compliment on how amazing it was and told him that you would really like that to be the video song. He gave you the first genuine smile you had seen from him, and your heart fluttered.

You very quickly dismissed that flutter, no way you were gonna take that seriously. After some discussion, you agreed to meet at a nearby park the next day to do some location scoping. The leaves would be starting to fall soon and you had an idea for a shot and you wanted to find the perfect place for it. Saying a small, polite goodbye, he followed you to the door saying he'd see you the next day, and sending you off with some of the food he'd ordered. Mark called a few hours later, asking if you wanted to grab some coffee, which you readily agreed to. Making your way to your usual cafe, your mind wandered through all the ideas you had for the project.

"So, how'd it go?" were Mark's first words to you as you sat across from him. "You know, not that bad. We decided on a song and we're going to the park tomorrow to scout and see if it fits what I have in mind." you replied with a small smile. Mark's stupid smirk was prominent on his face as he raised one eyebrow. "You and JB? Getting along? It's almost like someone knew this wouldn't be so bad." You threw the paper from your straw at him, telling him to shut up. "I still don't like him, Mark. This is just for the project. It's important." The smirk didn't leave his face, but he didn't push you anymore on it. And you sure as hell didn't tell him about the heart flutter.

You met Jaebum at around noon the next day. It was a weekday, so the park wasn't overly crowded and the temperature was near perfect. You had your camera handy so you could check lighting and he had brought a tripod and video camera, just in case. Walking along the sidewalk, you came across a group of trees, leaves falling from them. You grabbed a quick picture before setting the strap back across your shoulder and walking to the middle of the trees. You just stood there for a few moments, leaves falling all around you and just looked up at the branches, admiring the beauty of nature. By the time you had turned back around, Jaebum had set the camera up, facing you. "Thought it would be a good idea to get the leaves falling" he spoke quietly, rubbing his neck again. You quickly moved out of the shot so he could get it the way he wanted. You pulled your camera out to snap a few more photos, then noticed Jaebum looking over your shoulder at the screen of your camera. "Those are really good" he half whispered before going back to his own camera.

After the day at the park, you both decided the park would be your primary location. The idea of mostly nature shots coupled with the slow song sounded very appealing to you, and Jaebum agreed. Things went surprisingly well for about a week. You had gotten multiple shots of the leaves, and a few of some children playing in the leaves. You had even convinced Jaebum to have a leaf throwing war with you. Today was a completely different story, though. You had gone to the park and gotten a few nature shots, but in the midst of shooting, it began to rain. You were immediately struck with a desire to get some shots of the downpour. Rain had always been beautiful to you. Jaebum did not agree, however. Sure, your cameras could both withstand some water, but he simply did not want to stay. This led to a slightly heated argument.

"Come on, this could make a really great shot if you'd just LISTEN" your voice slightly louder than normal. He had been very cooperative up until now, but this was something you were not willing to back down on. "Excuse me for not wanting to stand in the rain and get sick!" his voice louder than your own. "Fine, then go! I'll get the shots on my phone and you can deal with the crappy quality!" this time you were actually yelling. He threw his hands up, and walked away to gather his equipment. Not wanting to let him ruin your mood, you did a twirl in the rain, enjoying how the drops felt on your face, before turning around to get a better shot of the park at a distance. You found Jaebum still standing there, camera still on the tripod. "I thought you were leaving?" You spoke with an eyebrow quirked up. "I am. Had one more shot I wanted to get." And with that he packed up and left.

After the rainy day at the park, things were back to being strained between you and Jaebum. You were having more and more arguments, often forgetting to turn the camera off during, which led to more arguments about the amount of footage that would have to be sorted through. You wanted to shoot from this angle, Jaebum wanted to shoot from the opposite angle. It was like he went out of his way to disagree with any suggestions you had. You had been working on the project for over a month, half of which you had spent arguing. You had finally had enough. You were going to confront him about this. Picking up your phone, you typed out a message giving him your address and telling him to meet you there.

An hour later, he was at your door, camera in hand, thinking you had something you wanted to shoot. You invited him in, and he set up his camera to get it out of his hands and not just placed on your table. You gestured for him to sit on the couch, and you sat next to him. Steeling yourself, you finally set into what was on your mind. "What is your problem? We've done nothing but fight for weeks. I say something, you immediately disagree. We were getting along great there for a while, and now we're back to where we started. Speaking of, why do you hate me so much? I tried to be nice to you, I tried to be your friend. You weren't having it. What did I ever do to you, Jaebum? You were a jerk to me the first time I met you and I just don't understan-" you were suddenly cut off by his lips on yours. And even more suddenly, you were kissing him back.

He pulled back after a moment, just for you to pull him back in. He eagerly chased your lips once more. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth for him. Before you realized, he was leaning you back on the couch. He pulled back again, slightly out of breath. "Tell me to stop, and I will." You replied by pulling him to you again and a small "don't " against his lips. He moved his mouth to your neck as his hand traveled down your body, stopping to squeeze your breast. You let out a small moan, encouraging him and you felt a smirk against your neck. His hand continued to trail down your body until he reached the bottom of your shirt. Pausing, he lifted his head to give you a questioning look. You gave a simple nod, and his hand slipped under the cloth and traveled back up.

He moved under your bra, as he squeezed again. He took your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, enticing another moan from you as he nibbled at your neck. As your arousal grew, you began to buck your hips, a silent plea for more. With a throaty chuckle, he whispered against your neck. "Patience, baby." With a whine, you picked up the pace of your hips, needing some kind of relief. At an excruciating speed, his hand began to slide down your body. As he reached the button of your jeans, he gave you another questioning look. "Are you sure?" His face was serious, wanting to make sure you were absolutely certain this was what you wanted. Breathless, you muttered out, "Please."

He let out a small growl at your neediness, as he undid the button of your jeans. Sliding his hand further down, he kept his eyes on your face. When he finally reached your dripping heat, he gave you a smirk. "So wet already." As he guided a finger through your folds, you let out a moan slightly longer than before. He kept up his teasing, simply running his finger through your wetness. His dark eyes still glued to your face, he teased your entrance, before slowly pushing inside of you. He kept his movements slow, wanting to tease. All at once, he picked up the pace as he added a finger. The sudden addition caused you to cry out in pleasure, earning another growl from Jaebum. His thumb rose to find your sensitive bud, staring in slow circles before picking up speed. Your release was building up fast and he picked up the pace once again. Just as the knot in your stomach unraveled, he learned down to whisper in your ear, "Just let go.I've got you." He gave you one last nibble before leaning up to see your face. His words were all you needed for the knot to completely break, causing a cry of his name.

Jaebum helped you ride out your high before planting a kiss to your forehead. He buttoned your jeans for you before getting up to get you a glass of water. He sat back down, and you could see the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you?" you managed to get out between gulps of water. He just laughed and shook his head. "Another time if that's something you want. I have some things to say first." You heart stopped briefly. Did he already regret this? All kinds of negative thoughts ran through your mind. As if he could sense your thoughts, he shook his head again.

"It's nothing bad, and I definitely don't regret anything that just happened. You asked me why I hated you. I have never hated you. I'm not good with people, I can come off cold and distant for a while before warming up. After a while, we just got into the routine of arguing and being distant with each other and I just didn't know how to go about changing that. I always wanted to, always wanted to be your friend. As for why things took a turn recently, we were becoming friends and I realized something, " he paused a moment as if to think, "I realized I didn't want to be your friend. I wanted more, but you still hated me so I went back to what I knew. I'm sorry for making you think I hated you." He finished his thoughts and looked away from you.

You sat there trying to process all of the information you were just given. Jaebum had feelings for you. That was not something you expected to hear. He hadn't hated you, but you sure hadn't liked him. When did that change? When did you go from not wanting to be in the same room as him, to laying on your couch with his hand down your pants? Thinking back, you tried to find the moment it changed. Was it the smile? Or maybe him ordering everything he knew you liked to eat? That may have been the start, but you realized the big moment. The leaf fight.

It had taken you quite a while to convince him, but when you finally had, he gave you that beautiful smile again. You took off running into a pile of leaves, him closely behind you. You picked up a handle full of leaves and tossed them directly in his face, letting out a loud laugh. His smile never left his face as he picked up and even bigger handful and retaliated. You spent an hour together just throwing leaves. That was the moment. That was when everything changed.

Realizing you had been in thought for a while, you reached over and grabbed Jaebum's hand. "I'm not going to tell you that I didn't dislike you. I did. I thought you were an ass. But, I no longer feel that way. You can still be an ass, but it isn't all the time. Things changed for me, too. Even through all the arguing we've done lately, I didn't want to argue. I didn't want to go back to how we were. I wanted to move past that. So, " you took a deep breath, "Let's see where things go, yeah?"

Two months later, and it was time to turn in your project. Jaebum had done all the editing and he hadn't let you see it yet. The night before you were set to turn it in, he asked you to come by his apartment to see the final product. You knocked on the door and Mark answered. "Y/N! Are you here to see me today or are you here to see your b-" you cut him off with a shove. "Move, I get to see the video today." He laughed as you shoved by him and made your way to Jeabum's studio. You gave a slight knock before letting yourself in.

He was sitting at his laptop with his headphones on, taking them off when he noticed your presence. You sat in the chair beside him, practically bouncing. He let out a chuckle and turned to his computer, and handed you the headphones. Putting them on as he pressed play, you focused on the screen. You were expecting the familiar melody of his song, but were met with your voice instead. "Come on, this could make a really great shot if you'd just LISTEN" on the screen was a clip of you and Jaebum. It was the rainy day in the park where you argued about shooting in the rain. Confusion washed over you, why was he showing you outtakes of your fight? That clip was followed by more clips of the two of you fighting. After a moment, the music started. The screen was filled with clips you had never seen before. You staring at the leaves, you twirling in the rain, the leaf fight, all things you didn't realize had been captured.

The video played through more clips of you and Jaebum between shots. The music stopped and your voice played again, "Why do you hate me so much?" you winced at the words, not wanting to remember them. The screen transitioned to you and Jaebum on your couch as he grabbed your face and kissed you. As your voice faded out, Jaebum's replaced it. "Passion is different for every person. For most, it is taken as something they enjoy. For me, passion started as an argument, only to grow into something amazing. See, love and hate are two sides of the same coin. A very passionate coin, for you cannot have love or hate without passion." With that, the screen faded to black.

You sat there for a few beats looking at the blank screen. Jaebum carefully lifted the headphones from your head and wiped the tears you hadn't realized had begun to fall. "You hate it. Don't worry I made the original plan, we can still submit that." He moved to exit out of the video, and you grabbed his hand to stop him. "I don't hate it. It was just beautiful and I wasn't expecting it. He wiped more tears as they fell. "Do you want to see the other one?" You shook your head and pulled him in for a kiss. "No. This one is perfect." He gave you a deep kiss before barely pulling back. "I love you" he whispered against your lips. Smiling wide, you replied "I love you too, Lim Jaebum."

#got7 jaebum #jaebum angst #jaebum fluff #jaebum smut #got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 smut #angst #smut #fluff #lim jaebum #jaebum #enemies to lovers

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forever-rogue · 5 years ago

Text

Just My Luck - G.L.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is dedicated to @spacedustmazzello, who was one of the winners of my Halloween Challenge. I hope you (and everyone else) enjoy!! Please let me know what you think!

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: none

»»————-　♡　————-««

Sighing as you woke up yet again, pulled the countless amount of blankets around your body in a vain attempt to keep warm. You hoped for a few seconds that something would give and you'd get warm, but as soon as you moved even slightly, you grew cold again. On top of that you'd neglected to put on socks, which you almost never did. It must have been the coldest night of the year and here you were, sockless and freezing, and naturally the heating wasn't working.

It had just gone out earlier in the evening, much to your and Gwilym's chagrin, and there wasn't anything you could do that late on a Sunday night. You'd both stocked up on blankets out of the linen closet, Gwil giving you the biggest and fluffiest before retreating to your rooms for the evening. He promised he'd call to get the heating fixed first thing in the morning, but that didn't alleviate the chill that was currently setting into your bones.

Hastily making up your mind, you slid out of your bed and pulled on a thick of wool socks, courtesy of the time you had stolen them from Gwil, grabbed a few blankets and draped them around your shoulders. You padded down the hallway and stopped in front of Gwil's door, wondering if you should actually wake him up just because you were cold. But you could see the faintest sliver of light peeking out from the under door, signaling that he was either reading or watching some late night television. You held up your hand and rapped your knuckles gently across the door. There was only a moment of pause before Gwil quickly said, "come in."

"Hey," you grinned at him shyly, immediately struggling to not get your eyes roam all over his body. It was hard being in love with your best friend who also happened to be your roommate sometimes. You stepped in and closed the door, going over to the bed, "I am absolutely freezing. Can I join you? At least to get warm?"

"Of course," he shot you that megawatt grin you so much as he lifted the covers up and motioned for you to slip under them, "come then, we'll get you nice and warm."

"My hero," you joked as laid down next to time, trying to maintain at least a little bit of distance between your bodies, "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Probably would have frozen to death," he joked as he put his arm around and pullet you closer, causing the breath to catch in your throat. It was almost like he was acutely aware of what he was doing, but at the same time had no intention of stopping. He seemed to notice your slight reluctance and gave you a curious glance, "what's wrong? You know I don't bite!"

"Haha very funny," you mustered up a nervous smile as you allowed yourself to meld against him, immediately comforted by his body heat. He was almost as effective as a furnace, but much better at the same time because he was very much real, warm, soft, and currently smelled like your favorite body wash of his, having probably showered just before bed.

"Better?" he asked as you rested your head on his chest, intently trying to listen to the beat of his heart for any signs of nervousness. You knew that if your positions had been reversed he would definitely have been able to hear the erratic thumping of your heart; honestly it's a wonder he didn't hear it regardless.

"Mhmm," you mumbled as you closed your eyes and let yourself be lulled to sleep by the everything, "you can keep watching your movie. I don't mind."

"It's okay," he said as he switched off the television and switched off the bedside lamp, "besides it's definitely time for bed. Good night Y/N."

He moved ever slightly so he could get a better hold on you as he nestled against his pillows and let out a small, content sigh. You felt like your heart could burst from the sweetness of the moment, "good night Gwil."

Just as you closed your eyes and were almost sound asleep, you were stopped by a soft sensation on your back. It took you only a moment to figure out that it was Gwil, gently tracing shapes up and down your back as he hummed softly under his breath. You wondered if he was still away or doing it in his sleep. Either way, you weren't going to question him or tell him to stop; you decided to let it happen. Maybe, just maybe, he might actually have feelings for you too.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The following evening when you arrived home with a few bags of groceries, you expected to come home to a new warm apartment, ready to relax and enjoy an enjoying with Gwil.

But, your plans were quickly interrupted and thrown to the wayside when you got inside and realized it was just as freezing as when you had left in the morning to go to work.

"Umm," you said as you put down the groceries in the kitchen and wondered what could have happened, "Gwil!?'

"Hiya love," he said in a nervous tone as he clambered into the kitchen. You gave him a surprised look and gestured at nothing in particular to signal your annoyance with the lack of heating, "umm about that...I have some bad news unfortunately."

"Oh?" you groaned quietly as you pulled out the bottle of wine you had just purchased, decided it was already time to put it to good use.

"I called around and no one's go availability to come and look at the heating for at least several more days," he said it so quickly you almost didn't catch but once you processed it, took a large swig from the bottle, "I'm sorry love, I must have called every company in the city and they've all got their hands full."

"I know it's not your fault Gwil," you told him, "life happens but it's still shitty. It must be 5 degrees colder in here than it is out there!"

"Well, I know it's not much, but maybe we sleep together again?" you almost choked on the wine and started coughing to try and clear your throat at his choice of words, "I just...ugh, I meant sharing the bed. Jesus, are you alright?"

"Yup," you said with one final cough as you set the bottle down and came to your senses, face feeling warm under his gaze, "I don't want to inconvenience you, Gwil. I can just bundle up in more layers before going to bed."

"It's not an inconvenience at all," he insisted, a small, hopeful look in his eye, "I swear, and that way we'll both be warm."

"If you insist-"

"I do," he said as he came around and into the kitchen to help you put things away, "now, why you don't you go and take a long, hot shower and I'll start dinner?"

"I, ughh...thank you," you said as his hands brushed over yours as he gently nudged you in the direction of the bathroom, "I'll be back soon.”

"Take your time," he said as he began to set out a few ingredients out for dinner. You watched him for a moment, a probably dopey smile on your face as you realized just how much you love him.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next several, cold, days continued in the same fashion. You'd come home to the freezing apartment, make dinner with Gwil and then end up together in his bed, all tangled up with each other by the time the morning rolled around. It was almost funny, that it took something like the lack of heating to bring you together, but you weren't complaining.

You were sad knowing it would end sooner rather than later, but that was the reality of the situation. It wasn't like you were suddenly dating and this was the unofficial start to your relationship; rather it was two friends doing each other a favor.

It was Friday night when you got home, later than expected, and exhausted, and as soon as you stepped inside, you were greeted with all the warmth you could ask for.

"Surprise!" Gwil called from the kitchen as you forced a smile onto your face. Yes, you were happy to be back home and in the warmth, but it also saddened you. Suddenly gone were your nights with Gwil.

"Hi," you gave him a tight lipped smile and he could immediately tell something was wrong. You sat down at the bar and watched him work in silence for a few moments, "heating is back on I see."

"Finally! The guy finished like an hour ago," he beamed at you, "I was so worried it wouldn't be done before you got home, but I'm glad it is! We won't freeze now!"

"Finally!"

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately sensing your hesitation.

"Nothing-"

"Y/N..."

"Fine, alright if you must know..." you sighed, feeling silly suddenly, "I've quite enjoyed spending the night with you..."

"Oh," he let out a small sound of surprise as he watched you intently, "really?"

"Really," you admitted, watching your feet and avoiding his eyes.

"Well, we don't...have to stop," he seemed just nervous as you suddenly and his cheeks turned a brilliant shade of crimson, "if you catch my drift."

"I...oh?" you were surprised by his nonchalant response and it made your mind race and if this was it, the time to profess your love for him, "because I like you, Gwil. Like I really, really like you."

"It just so happens that I really, really like you," he was trying to test the waters as his heart leapt with joy as he realized that the sentiment was mutual, "so I'm reading this correctly, we both like each other a lot."

"Yeah," you breathed out nervously, "I guess we do."

"Maybe we should do something about it," he suggested and you snuck a glance at him, heart starting to race again, "and I think I have the perfect idea for starters."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"I'm going to kiss you now," he said simply as he came so he was standing in front of you. He put a hand delicately on your cheek before tracing the contours of your face, "if that's okay of course."

"Yes," you grinned at him, "absolutely yes."

And he didn't have to say anything else to you. You leaned up to meet and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and he was kissing you like it was the only thing that mattered. It was soft, passionate, and perfect; all the waiting had definitely been worth this moment.

"Was it there?" he asked as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Was what there?"

"The spark," he chuckled, "because I definitely felt it."

"I dunno," you joked, "maybe you should try again. Just to make sure it's really there. I felt something though...this is purely for science."

"Right, science," he joked and just shrugged innocently, "I'd be more than happy to oblige."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #reader insert #au #queen #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #Brian May #John Deacon #roger taylor #freddie mercury #joe mazzello #ben hardy #rami malek #patricia's halloween challenge #winner #congrats

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years ago

Text

Gotta say, I might’ve enjoyed this a little too much. The very generous @jinnnesta asked me to re-write Persephone’s and Hades’ myth in a College AU, and hopefully, this’ll be satisfactory. And just to clarify, Hades is a really, *really* soft Yandere, but I tried to avoid any out-right tells, as per request.

Word Count: ~6k

People had never been Hades’ strong suit.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, he didn’t mind them. People were interesting, most of the time, and although he didn’t really care for many of them (growing up with two older brothers will do that to a person), he didn’t mind having to co-exist with whoever he was forced to that day, even if that meant playing wall-flower whenever his roommate dragged him to a party in a vain effort to make Hades do something other than study. It still shocked him that Thanatos had a busier social life than him, but that was another matter entirely, for another time when the aforementioned man had got rid of his pocket-knife collection.

No, he didn’t hate people, he just wasn’t very fond of actually talking to them.

Knowing this, you can understand the panic that initially ran through him when someone tapped on his shoulder.

It was surprising that someone else had gotten to the lecture as early as he had, only a handful of people currently littered through-out the hall. Still, Hades took a deep breath, turning and doing his best to make a scowl look friendly. The least he could do was act positive, even in a morning class on the first day of a new semester.

Luckily, he didn’t have to. Not when he saw who wanted his attention.

‘Stunned’ would be an understatement, no one could just be stunned while looking at Persephone. The girl was radiant, as beautiful as a warm spring day, with a smile that could make the sun bow its head in shame and the kind of personality that made Hades believe in saints. Even in leggings and a sweatshirt, she was godly, long, dark hair pulled into a messy bun and brown eyes suddenly fixed on him. Hades couldn’t stop himself from scowling, more out of habit than any sort of anger, but Persephone only managed to glow brighter.

Briefly, he wondered if he’d go blind just from looking at her.

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked, pointing towards the seat next to him. Her voice was smoother than he thought possible, sweet as honey and cheery, but not high-pitched or forced. He wanted to ask her to talk more, if only so he could lull into it, but all he could do was nod, attempting not to gape at the girl in front of him. Whether or not he succeeded was debatable, but she thanked him regardless, sitting down and making Hades’ heart skip with every extra movement.

She didn’t say anything for a few moments, Hades doing his best to keep from staring at her, keeping his eyes focused on his laptop. He didn’t want her to know how much he was panicking, even if he didn’t want to seem to shy, either. But, it was a pointless endeavor, really. When he glanced back to Persephone, she made no effort to hide the fact that she was staring, her chin propped casually on her hand, like her eyes weren’t boring into him. He opened his mouth, ready to ask her what she needed, but Persephone beat him to it.

“I swear I’ve seen you before.” Again her voice was painstakingly sweet, even when she was staring him down. Hades swallowed nervously, but Persephone just laughed, hitting her desk lightly. “You’re Posideon’s brother, aren’t you?” She hardly waited for a response, barely giving Hades enough time to spit out a quick ‘supposedly’ before she cut in. “I knew it! He was my lab partner in chemistry, last semester. Or, he was technically my partner. He wore sandals every time we had to do something… chemistry-y.”

Hades cringed, thinking back to all the times he’d been late to his own courses to give his absent-minded brother something more solid than a pair of Birkenstocks. But, the familial association wasn’t the only reason his cheeks were turning red. “He showed you the baby pictures, didn’t he?”

“Oh, dozens,” She purred, her curious frown fading into the widest grin he’d ever seen. If it was possible for her to pass through the arm-rest between them, she would’ve, leaning over as much as she was able to. “He was polite about it, if it helps. Waited three weeks and everything, I had to ask if he had more.”

“He does, he always does,” Hades mumbled, shaking his head. Persephone giggled, watching as he curled into himself, just hoping beyond hope Poseidon had been merciful enough to skip the ‘tween gallery’. It was a dwindling moment of optimism, though. Desperate to change the topic, Hades attempted to face a still-laughing Persephone, rubbing his neck as he spoke. “So… you’re into Marine Biology?”

“Hell no, the ocean can suck something awful.” She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand, a look of disgust briefly passing over her features before she shook it off, forcing her eyes to open again. “I’m aiming for a Bachelor’s in Botany, although I’m just working on my credits here. My mom’s supposed to ship me off to some big, fancy, overseas university in a couple of years.”

Hades nodded, pursing his lips. “You don’t sound very excited.”

“Have you ever listened to someone talk about germination for two hours? I can hardly even look at flowers, anymore. If I see another goddamn rose, I’m going to pick a tree and burn something down.” She sighed, but the tension didn’t leave her shoulders, her relaxed posture seeming so more… stressed, then it had been when she first approached him. Without thinking, he reached over, simply resting a hand on her back, giving her a sympathetic nod when she glanced over. With a shaky breath, Persephone forced a renewed level of composure, once again shrugging off anything deeper than a mild complaint. “It’s… it’s stupid, don’t worry about it.”

People were flowing into the hall more steadily, now, the professor taking is position on the elevated stage at the front of the room, beginning to pull up whatever power-point or presentation he’d sleep through for the next few hours. He turned towards Persephone, but she’d already caught on, that dazzling, bright, beautiful smile back in full-force.

“Lunch after class?”

Hades never thought he would enjoy walking to class.

Especially one that wasn’t even his, Persephone seeming to wake up with the sun, her morning schedule earlier and more brutal than Hades thought he could put himself through. He didn’t need to be on campus today, and yet, here he was, torn from his cramped room and watching as Persephone was cornered by two first-year students, both speaking far too quickly while his friend nodded and laughed at panicked, seemingly random intervals. He’d been mad, initially, when they came over, ripping away the girl he was obviously walking with, threatening to make her late for her class and stopping her from talking to the person she’s chosen to spend time with. But, if Persephone herself was bothered by the intrusion, she did her best to hide it, shaking her head when he started to approach the trio.

He’d conceded… for a good three minutes. Then, when he decided the conversation had grown a little too invasive, he pushed his way between the two, grabbed her hand, and made some half-assed excuse before dragging a far too agreeable Persephone back into the crowd of people.

“Friends of yours?” He muttered, lips pressed into a tight, thin line. He didn’t want to seem spiteful, but… he was, to be honest. Anyone would be, if they had their time with someone as flawless as Persephone taken away. “They seem… nice.”

Persephone shrugged, moving to pull him forward, latching onto his arm as she walked. Her touchiness wasn’t uncommon, though. Rather, it was something Hades quickly found himself growing fond of, even if he still gave her hell for it. “In a way. I guess you could say that.” Her voice was nonchalant, as if she’d already explained it a thousand times. “They’re fans, I think. I mean, I had to sign something.”

At this, Hades paused, Persephone barely glancing up, her complexion quickly becoming darker as she noticed the wide, playful smirk he was suddenly wearing. She huffed as he ruffled her hair, struggling to smooth over piles of curls as Hades laughed. “Ah, the rich girl has fans, now? Is there a club?” He let his voice get lower, nearly whispering. “Are they expecting new members?”

The girl pouted, elbowing his arm, Hades only breaking-up more at her weak attempts. It took him a few deep, deep breaths to regain his composure, stifling his laughter down to a half-muffled chuckle, Persephone pouting, crossing her arms in a vain effort to give her companion the cold-shoulder. “Don’t give me that shit, not when your dad is the one putting you through college, too.” With a slip of her hair and another proud, confident stance, she continued. “Besides, I’m a Youtuber. It doesn’t have anything to do with money.”

Again, Hades could hardly contain himself, fighting to keep his hand over his mouth, even if his grin was still peeking over the sides. “Is… is that better?”

“Yes!” She said, defensively. Persephone was walking again, before Hades had time to notice, forcing him to play catch-up. It always caught him off guard, how quickly someone so short could walk. With a glance over her shoulder and confirmation of her embarrassment, she let her pace slow to something Hades could manage, pulling a strand of hair loose and twirling it around her finger, still not facing him. “It’s… it’s a lot of work, and I don’t just upload the raw footage, or film whatever I see. Fuck, editing alone takes a few hours on better days, and I’d like to say I’m pretty good at it. My followers think so, anyway.” Abruptly, her eyes widened as she finally processed her own words, anything Hades could’ve said immediately interrupted by Persephone’s sudden frenzy. “Please, don’t mention it in front of the professors. I’m really trying to be taken seriously, and if the people grading me find out I spend most of my time trying to cry my way through water-proof mascara… they might tell Demeter-”

This time, it was his turn to talk over her, his tone serious, but far from cold. “You said it’s hard work, didn’t you?”

Persephone spared him a glance, short nods coming reflexively. “It is, yeah.”

Hades allowed himself to stare, being the one to move closer this time. He did so rarely, always relying on Persephone to make the first move, but a surge of confidence than through him when she didn’t move away, only looking up at him. Inquisitive, but never scared. That might be why he’d always liked her so much. “And you put effort into it?”

She laughed, tugging on that same loose curl gently. “I think so.”

“Then, there’s nothing to worry about. You should be proud, if anything. Not a lot of people have the work-ethic to keep something like that going, not for very long.” He gestured vaguely, to nothing in particular and if only to alleviate his own anxiety. “You’re doing something you’re good at, and that I hope you enjoy, instead of wasting your time at a dead-end, part-time job. If your professors don’t respect that, that they don’t deserve to see what a wonderful, determined person you are.”

Persephone didn’t say anything, growing quiet for a moment, slowing down until she eventually perked up, noticing the propped open door to her lecture hall. A soft, warm smile blossomed across her features, not dazzling or gorgeous or memorable, but… perfect, all the same. Silently, she pulled him down, kissing his cheek lightly before rushing off, calling a quick ‘thank you’ or ‘see you later’ or something as she left, Hades couldn’t hear her. He couldn’t barely think, only managing to form a single thought for minutes after she’d left.

Persephone had kissed him, him. So sweetly and so excitedly, at that.

God, how could he not adore her?

“I want to go into mortuary science.”

The admission came abruptly, breaking the peaceful silence of the campus garden, Persephone still looking out at a wall of roses and over-grown milkweed as she spoke. Hades looked up, nonetheless, closing his textbook the moment he’d heard her voice. It was always hypnotic, for him, drawing his attention despite all the distractions he could justifiably fall into. Part of him knew that wasn’t the healthiest mindset to have about a friend and classmate, but that would only be a problem if he said these things out loud.

Which he wouldn’t. Ever. He couldn’t. She was Persephone, beautiful, charming Persephone.

And he… he was just Hades, the loser who was lucky enough to have someone so incredible that he wanted to keep to himself.

By the time he finally realized how long he’d been thinking, Persephone was blushing, crossing her arms and focusing on the roses with a concentrated, fixed gaze. It was a defensive position, but an unnecessary one. She knew that as well as he did, really, but that didn’t mean she would drop it any time soon. “I know it’s creepy, and morbid, but…” She bit her cheek, beginning to pace through the small gazebo, hardly seeming to notice the boy sitting on the floor behind her. “I want to. It seems interesting, I don’t know, and the course is less strenuous than most. And do you know how many resources we waste with traditional burial methods? Hundreds of acres, per county-”

“Persephone,” Hades cut in, interrupting her mid-rant. She twisted to face him, eyes wide and lips pulled into a small frown, and Hades shook his head, leaning back into the guard-wall. “You don’t have to justify your interests, I believe you. It doesn’t have to be creepy, not if you don’t make it creepy.” Some of the tension reluctantly left her shoulders, but she remained on-edge, her worried eyes only dropping to the wooden floorboards. Hades persisted, still. She would only back-track if he didn’t encourage her. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

She let herself chuckle, fiddling with the ends of her long sleeves. “Well… a while now, if that makes sense. I’ve always been really invested in funerals and the whole embalming process, but I think I just realized I wanted to be a part of that last year. After I got tired of…” She trailed off, waving a hand through the air, trying to think of the right word. “…plants, I guess. I mean, they’re pretty, but I don’t think I could spend the rest of my life on a farm.”

With a sigh, Hades stood, only moving close enough to stand across from her, leaning on one of the support pillars. The silence that surrounded them was a comfortable one, Persephone eventually ripping her eyes away from the ground, meeting his with that comforting, nervous smile. It took a while for either of them to speak, to think of something to say or ask the next clear question, but luckily Persephone didn’t need to be prompted.

That was probably for the best. Hades wasn’t sure if he had the nerve.

“It was my mom’s idea. She says it runs in the family.” With another tense chuckle, a few more awkward fidgets and shaky eye contact, but Hades waited patiently, letting her confess on her own terms. “I guess she thought I wanted to be like her. I think I was a pretty sheltered kid, you don’t make very many friends when you live in the middle of nowhere, but I’ve been dreading it since she first brought up my ‘inheritance’. And if she found out I was more interested in corpses than irrigation…” Persephone let out a ragged breath, letting her hair dip over her eyes. “I don’t know if she would ever forgive me.”

“Do you want her to?” He asked, reflexively, instantly regretting it once he had. Her eyes widened, the girl snapping towards him instinctually, Hades backtracking as soon as he realized what he’d said. He stumbled backwards, stuttering over his words, attempting to mumble out something close enough to an apology or an explanation to make up for it, but Persephone only giggled, covering her mouth and finally, finally looking at him.

“She’s my mom, and I love her. Even if Demeter is a bit… overbearing,” She began, releasing some of the tension from her rigid form. He rested a hand on her shoulder, something he could only hope was a comforting gesture, and she nodded, as solemn as it was accepting. “I should tell her. I’m going to tell her. I just have to decide if this is what I really want, first. There are probably a few professors I can talk to, or something.”

“I could go with you, if you’re alright with that,” He offered, not pushing the topic when she shrugged.

“I’ll have to think on it.” The answer was simple, but he took it at face value. It was the least he could do, right now. “I appreciate the offer, though,” She added, brushing back her hair. “It’s just… a lot, right now.”

Hades didn’t argue as she leaned against him, nor did she move away when his arms fell to her waist, Persephone just letting him support her weight. She felt right, there, fitting perfectly in the space between his arms.

He did love her, he was sure of that, now. She was beautiful, brilliant, and so, so strong, but this wasn’t about him.

His feelings could wait, he would wait. For as long as she needed him to.

“So… you and Hades?”

Aphrodite’s voice was as calm as always, monotone yet so very judgemental. Persephone admired that about her, truthfully, how unbothered her ‘frenemy’ was by the world that seemed to operate at a polite distance from the cosmetic specialist at any given time. Still, she snapped up as much as she was able to while the other girl cupped her chin, attempting to lather the girl in more make-up than was appropriate for a casual afternoon live-stream. Aphrodite had insisted, and Persephone was never eager to do the task herself.

Persephone scoffed, the slight movement quickly crushed under Aphrodite’s ironclad grip. “What’s wrong with Hades?”

“I don’t know, why don’t I start with the fact that a bright light could give the poor boy a sunburn?” She teased, giving her victim a temporary reprieve as she reached for a vial of mascara. “Or the ‘youngest-brother’ syndrome he has going on? Or that wanna-be-lawyer thing-” She stopped abruptly, a wide grin threatening to streak her oh-so-perfect lipstick. “Or the grease.”

“He’s not greasy!” Persephone huffed, crossing her arms, the wand nearly lodging itself in her eyelid. She attempted to lean onto the vanity, her posture quickly corrected by a steady, forceful hand, but she still rolled her eyes… when Aphrodite said she was allowed to, of course. “That’s rich coming from someone dating… who is it? A mechanic? Or is he a soldier, now?”

“Hephaestus is a mechanic, Ares is ex-military,” Aphrodite corrected, momentarily reaching for her phone. Whatever she saw, she didn’t like it, hastily typing out a response before she turned her attention back to the task at hand. “And Athena is being difficult.” Persephone couldn’t help herself, laughing as Aphrodite shot her a glare, nearly slamming the device back onto the wooden surface. “Wipe that look off your face, at least I don’t go… canoodling around on campus.”

“Hermes saw, didn’t he?” Aphrodite only nodded, managing to ignore the high-pitched ring of her phone. She cursed under her breath, reluctantly letting the girl tip her chin up, something light and powdery soon coating her cheekbones, her hold more gentle than before. Persephone took the cue to spill, as long as her torturer was feeling nice. “Look, nothing’s going on, alright? He’s a friend, a good one, and he’s…” She let herself sit a little straighter, squaring her shoulders. “He’s helping me change my major.”

Reflexively, Aphrodite cringed, hiding it quickly but not quickly enough, Persephone’s confidence immediately fading. She looked to the side, trying to keep from shrinking into herself. This wasn’t Aphrodite’s choice. This wasn’t Demeter’s choice.

Aphrodite’s follow-up didn’t help. “Your mom’s not going to ask that, y’know.”

“My mom is going to have to live with it.” Her voice was steady… or she hoped it was, at least. Persephone wanted to be sure, to know this was the right choice and to have some kind of confirmation that she wouldn’t regret this when it inevitably went wrong. It felt terrifying, to go against her own mother for the first time since she was a teenager, but this was something she was passionate about, this was the one thing she knew she wanted.

All she could do was hope it wouldn’t go too wrong, really.

Her eyes darted back to Aphrodite, the slight edge to her voice hopefully coming off as intimidating. “It’s not like she’s going to find out, right? Demeter doesn’t have to know.”

It took a moment of tense, cold silence, but Aphrodite was the first to relent, only sighing as she sprayed a thin mist of setting-spray over the girl. “Demeter doesn’t have to know, even if she should.”

Content with that, Persephone simply stood, thanking her friend and attempting to leave before things got too uncomfortable, only failing miserably. But, Aphrodite only watched as she left the dorm room, pursing her lips, gaze drifting back to the phone so tantalizingly close. She was sure she still had Demeter’s number, from freshman-year, when the woman had cornered Aphrodite and forced her to promise that she’d ‘report’ anything concerning back to the over-protective, really fucking scary mother of one of her closest friends.

Hesitantly, she reached out, managing to avoid Athena’s frantic messages. This was for the best, she told herself, fighting the guilt slowly planting itself in her throat.

She’d find out one way or another, Aphrodite was just… breaking the ice.

Whatever Hades had expected of Persephone’s apartment, it certainly hadn’t been this.

The two weren’t yelling, but it was more than clear both wanted to, voices forced into harsh, low whispers that Hades could hardly make out, the older woman both staring down and glaring at an equally dismayed Persephone. Even from his vantage point, half in the doorway but ready to run at any signs of violent hostility, he could make out an uncanny resemblance between them, the stranger sharing Persephone’s dark eyes, her sharp features, her skin a few shades tanner than Persephone’s own but their complections just as dark. They were related, obviously, possibly a cousin or sister or…

Or Persephone’s mother.

The oh-so-dreaded Demeter.

The Demeter who was now staring directly at him.

Both were, technically, but Persephone seemed more surprised than she was perturbed. Only Demeter looked mad, scowling with lips pulled so tightly he could hardly believe she could still move her mouth. He smiled nervously, the thought of introducing himself competing with the temptation to flee back into the relative safety of Persephone’s lobby. In the end, neither won, Hades just balling his fists into sides and staring forward like a deer in headlights, Demeter’s slight frown quickly morphing into a sneer.

Persephone caught on first, moving to stop her mother but failing, Demeter only holding up a hand, her daughter instantly growing quiet. “You’re the boy who’s been distracting Persephone, right?”

He cringed, fighting the urge to apologize. “Hades’ works, ma’am.”

His voice was barely a whisper, but Demeter didn’t seem to care, only turning back to the increasingly timid Persephone. “You’re dropping out for him? What’s the catch? Rich parents? Did he promise you an easy life?” She let out a laugh, the noise akin to nails on a chalkboard, Persephone flinching at the sound of it. “Did that girl forget to mention you’d gotten knocked up?”

“I’m not dropping out, I’m changing my major,” She growled, her nails digging into her palms. He couldn’t tell whether she was more annoyed or enraged, but he didn’t there was much of a difference, at this point. “Just because it wasn’t your plan doesn’t mean it’s not a plan! And he’s a friend, not like you’d know anything about my life.”

Demeter drew back, her expression remaining disgusted, but her posture stuttering, recalibrating, adjusting. Her movements were nearly methodical, like every reaction was preplanned and drawn-out, surprise something far-beyond her comprehension. “You will not talk to me like that-”

“You don’t pay her tuition,” Hades cut in, instinctually, his own father quickly coming to mind. He didn’t know he could be this angry, so bewildered and confused and mad, just because someone dared to berate someone he cared for. It was like a spark, lighting something he didn’t know he had, pure anger soon burning inside his chest, fueling him as he continued. “Persephone pays were own bills, doesn’t she? She pays the rent for this apartment, she has her own job, and she doesn’t owe you her future. She’s nice enough to not cut you off, but the moment she does something you don’t approve of, you come to her home and insult the friends she chooses. You’re lucky she even considered telling you.”

When neither spoke, Persephone stunned while Demeter only let her gaze fall to the ground, an expression he couldn’t read layered over any one emotion she could’ve been feeling. The need to take it back, to leave or apologize or just so something to diffuse the situation eating away at his resolution, but he attempted to hold strong, only biting his cheek as Persephone shook her head, probably formatting her own excuse and all the platforms she’d have to block him on as soon as she reached a phone.

Shockingly, Demeter was the one to break the silence, firmly refusing to address Hades, instead focusing her attention to her daughter. “You… like the subject you’re going into?”

Persephone’s eyes glinted, shakily nodding before she could muster enough stability to nod. “Mortuary sciences? I mean… I love it.”

“Please, don’t remind me.” She grimaced, but did her best to cover it, her gaze only dropping to the floor. She only shook her head, gracefully sitting down on one of Persephone’s technicolor sofas, rubbing her temples. “We can talk about it-” Her eyes flickered to Hades, for the first time since he’d walked through the door. “-alone.”

Hades didn’t need another excuse, saying something to Persephone before unceremoniously speed-walked out the door, fumbling with the knob and practically collapsing against the door when he managed to get outside. He felt tired, sweaty, overworked yet so energized he could hardly stand to stop moving. All he wanted to do was go home, sleep, run a fucking mile, but that didn’t stop a delirious, relieved smile from finding its way to his lips.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Persephone so relaxed.

When she invited him back, reaching out two days after the incident and just when he’d managed to lose hope for a rekindling, he might have been over-enthusiastic, momentarily forgetting he had a life outside of Persephone and her family drama.

He wasn’t proud of what he’d done with that time, to say the least, his pathetic search for her channel almost immediately followed by a binge-session of her most popular videos, then her newest videos, then… well, all her videos. There were the make-up tutorials and daily vlogs he’d expected, but a good amount of her uploads consisted of Persephone simply existing, living her day-to-day life and making twenty-minute long rants about whatever was on her mind. Currently, his favorites were ‘Naming All My Houseplants’ and ‘I Know What Evapotranspiration Is And You Will Too’, both of which more than half an hour long and features a whiteboard Persephone seemed uncomfortably affection of.

But, that digital, peppy, manufactured version of her didn’t matter, not when the real girl was sitting in front of him, impatiently guiding him to her room and practically shoving him onto the bed, hastily sitting down beside him. It wasn’t the tranquility he’d expected from a weight being lifted off her shoulders, but she seemed more… active, lacking the exhaustion that’d been weighing her down, recently. He was happy for it, too, her giddy smile and small fidgets as infectious as they’d ever been. More so, even.

“I don’t think I even had to email anyone,” She sighed, the words coming out breathy, rushed but overjoyed, at the same time. “It was so easy, I’m still a little nervous. I feel like this is all just a perfect dream I’m going to wake up from tommorrow morning.”

He fought not to reach out, just letting himself fall into her relief, nodding as he tried to figure out what to say, how to say it. “God, I hope not. If I have to lecture someone else’s mom for a second time, I’m never going to forgive you.” He glanced around the room, like Demeter would crawl out of the floorboards at the mention of her name. “She’s not still here, is she?”

“No, absolutely not.” She had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing, but her eyes seemed to sparkle, doing more than enough to give away how she really felt. “She can’t be away from her farm for more than a week, the thing’s her life-force. I’m just happy she let me drive her to the airport, honestly. At least she hasn’t given up on me entirely.” Persephone paused, her skin paling. “But, she doesn’t know about the dissections yet, either.”

Hades chuckled, resting a hand on her shoulder, equal parts attempting to distract her and display his support, in one of the only ways he knew how. “Either way, I’m still proud of you. Your brilliant and brave and…” He trailed off, watching as she brushed her hair out of her face, the sunlight seeming to radiate off of her. Like a fucking goddess. The slip was unintentional, but… right, the words fitting perfectly on his tongue. “And I love you.”

She didn’t react, not for a second, her eyes staying focused on the floor in front of her. Her gaze was concentrated, but not scared. Not angry. When she broke the stillness, her voice was soft, hardly audible. “You do?”

The idea of taking it back crossed his mind, calling her a ‘close friend’ and just playing it off like nothing had happened, but he couldn’t. It’d already come out, and he couldn’t take it back. He didn’t want to.

“Yeah, I guess so,” He said, his hold on her shoulder becoming softer, but not falling away. “I love you. I think you’re amazing, and I think I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’re alright with that.”

“Is…” She grew quieter, gradually turning towards him. “Is there anything else you want to do?”

It felt natural, instinctual, leaning down as she closed her eyes. Their lips barely touched, at first, Hades more nervous than he should’ve been, leaving Persephone to deepen the gesture, her arms wrapping around his as he reached up, cupping her cheeks in an effort to bring her closer. With a small lick to her bottom lip, his tongue was in her mouth in a matter of seconds, the fight for dominance over the moment he pulled her closer, dragging her into his chest and dropping his hands to her waist, something Persephone reacted… positively to, something similar to a purr leaving her lips. That was enough for Hades to pick her up, handling her smaller form a little too roughly as he threw her against the mattress, his lips never leaving hers until he was kneeling between her legs, only seperating to catch his breath. Persephone seemed to need it, too, red-faced and panting, a wide grin spread across her features.

Hades wasn’t much better, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he fought to keep from laughing. Persephone, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as self-conscious, giggling as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, her fingers soon running through his hair, combing through the messy locks, tugging whenever he nipped or kissed her neck. “Someone’s excited,” She teased, her laughter hitching when he bit down, hard. “Really excited.”

“Can you blame me?” He grunted, straightening his back. He’d never realized how small she was, her head just reaching his shoulders and barely half his weight soaking-wet. The idea made him feel smug, confident, enough to grab at her thigh with one than, letting the other trail down to her chest. With a quick glance up and a hasty nod on her part, he was pushing her shirt up, letting the material pull at her collar-bone before tearing at the pink-lace covering her chest. Her bra fell away with few complaints, leaving Hades free to suck and kiss as he pleased, groping anything and everything his hands couldn’t reach. “I mean, look at you,” He mumbled, his voice mostly muffled by her skin. “You’re fucking perfect.”

She tilted her head to the side, only to let it fall back as her back arched on a particularly harsh grope. The whimper that worked its way past her lips had Hades damn-near salivating, encouraging him to kiss down her stomach, lingering at her shorts before he took a deep breath, the fingers hastily rooted in his hair a good source of encouragement. Even then, it took a minute for him to fall into it, but with a few whines and moans from Persephone, his teeth were latched onto inside of her thigh, the flat of his thumb pressed against her clit, teasing her with so much pressure but so little movement while two fingers worked her open. He operated off of her reactions, his movements hesitant, but hopefully, enthusiastic enough to make up for the experience he lacked. She was so hot, so wet and tight and inviting, grinding down every time he curled his fingers and writing whenever he added another.

He didn’t know why he didn’t do this sooner, if only to feel her around him. She was so beautiful, like this, unashamed and blissful-

“Ha-Hades…” She whimpered, bucking into his fingers. He stilled, glancing up, and she threw her arms over her face, taking a deep breath before she could peak out between them. “If you don’t put something bigger inside me right now, I’m kicking you out.”

All he could do was nod, as overwhelmed by how blunt she was by the throbbing hard cock suddenly calling for attention between his legs. Persephone dragged him into another kiss while he worked, only breaking apart to tear off his shirt as he kicked off his jeans, their lips connected as he pressed her into the mattress, lining himself up with her entrance and thrusting in.

The sensation was nearly orgasmic on its own, Hades’ hands moving on their own, parting her legs to pump in deeper, to feel more of her. She didn’t seem opposed to the idea, grinding against him, whining and keening and moaning, the noises muted compared to the pulse pounding in his ears. Everything felt like a blur, time passing slowly yet too fast, thrusts and gropes mixing together, Persephone’s nails digging into his back and scratching just to ground herself. It wasn’t long before she clamped down, her cunt instantly turning into a vice-grip as she climaxed around him.

He hardly had time to pull out, cumming on her thighs without a breath to spare. Hades could feel himself collapse on top of her, just as emotionally exhausted as he was physically, but her arms only wrapped around his neck, thin lines of warm blood soon running over his skin. It felt right, natural and faultless and…

And perfect.

Because he loved her, so, so much. And she loved him, too.

What could be more perfect than that?

#commission #Commision #writing commission #comission #writing comission #not yandere?#god damn what do i even tag this

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