#victory ball au
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Enter Here:
Hello, and welcome to my little corner of Hell! You can call me Venus, I'm not new to this hellsite by any means and I finally decided it was time to carve out the niche in the Star Wars fandom that I always dreamed of someone else making.
On this blog, I will be posting various headcanons, blurbs, quotes, fanart, possibly fanfictions of my own writing, all relating to what I consider to be my favorite ships, including rare pairings and a variety of ships that I think I came up with because I am single IRL and would really rather not be.
I personally write a ridiculous amount of self-indulgent fanfiction that I don't post anywhere and only write for my own enjoyment, but my preferred pairings and AUs are very rarely anywhere near canon. I always hoped there were more people with uncommon interests in the fandom, but after years of no luck, I've made the decision to find them myself, or convert some people...
My main ships that I enjoy writing about/am interested in exploring are:
Quinfox/Foxquin/Vox (Quinlan Vos x Commander Fox)
Codywan (Commander Cody x Obi-Wan Kenobi)
Blyla (Aayla Secura x Commander Bly)
Quinobi/Obiquin (Quinlan Vos x Obi-Wan Kenobi)
Rexsoka (Extremely wary of this one, I would only explore the concept post-Clone Wars Era as Ahsoka is... A child before the end of the War... Yeah, none of that please)
Kanera (Kanan Jarrus x Hera Syndulla)
Dinluke (Din Djarin x Luke Skywalker)
Wreckme? (Padme Amidala x Wrecker? Weird one that I think ONE SINGULAR PERSON has art of and now it lives in my brain dumpster and I've been toying with it a bit)
I'm curious about Kit Fisto x Aayla Secura x Commander Bly, but I haven't actually explored it much, so if you've got any thoughts or favorite fan works, feel free to send them my way!
These are the ships that I currently find myself interested in and writing about, but I'm open to hearing about what other people might like, my only boundaries are non-familial/platonic ships between clones, that's not my cup of tea, and any Master/Padawan ships, something I'm not interested in and would prefer to not engage with, you do you, of course.
I also enjoy at least two AUs, one that I believe pre-dates my use of it and the other is a very common one: Sith AU (Duh) and Victory Ball AU (In which the Clone War ends in a Republic-Jedi victory and things are all made right, Palpatine will always die, usually in increasingly hilarious or vengeful ways, depending on how my day went)
I am a SUCKER for the Soulmate trope/AU, and if anyone ever wants my thoughts on a specific ship being soulmates, ask! I will gladly babble my nonsense to any who wish to hear it!
I will forewarn that I am likely to post about ships + reader, for example, I'm already planning for my first real post to be a Quinfox x reader headcanon, so if you're like me and are polyamorous or LGBTQ+ in another way, you're welcome to send things in too! There's room for everyone around here, my little deal is that no one can be harmed and it can't be an illegal relationship (Examples include but are not limited to: Non-Con, incest, underage/of age partners, abusive dynamics/themes, coercion,) in our standards. As long as it would be legal here, I can usually give it a chance, though if you want me to write about a ship committing crimes together... That's a different story, I have access to Google and no respect for my search history, if you want to hear about being Codywan's assassin/lover, shoot me an ask, I have thoughts ;)
Lastly, I will post NSFW and suggestive content at some point and while I will do my best to add many tags and warnings, if you can't handle that risk and/or you are under 18, GO AWAY. I'm not sorry that I'm an adult and that I enjoy adult content, and anyone who doesn't want to see it is more than welcome to leave.
Ageless blogs and blogs run by minors will be blocked, and it will not be warned or nice, I don't want you here and if you're truly mature, you should be mature enough to respect that this space is not for you.
Asks are open, requests are open, ranting in the asks is more than welcome, feel free to send any questions in and I'll get to them ASAP!
~Venus
#star wars#clone wars#bad batch#original trilogy#prequel trilogy#rexsoka#codywan#quinfox#foxquin#vox#obiquin#quinobi#wreckme#kanera#dinluke#blyla#fanart#fanfic#send asks#headcanons#alternate universe#soulmates#sith au#victory ball au
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This is part of the @cloneficgiftexchange. The person I got was: @captainpains
I hope you enjoy some Victory Ball AU with Captain Rex
Prompt used: "You think you're hilarious, don't you?" "Yes, yes I do."
Warning(s): a touch of angst if you squint, fluff, shenanigans
Word Count: 836 Words
@locitapurplepink, @burningfieldof-clover, @writing-positivelyexisting, @rain-on-kamino
Your bottom lip remained captured between your teeth as the speeder came to a stop. The building looming over the city streets twinkled in the night. A beacon for personnel to gather while dressed to the nines. A hand curled around yours, smoothing over your knuckles.
âReady?â
âRex, are you sure?â
The captain's smile offered slight relief to your nerves, âI'd have the pleasure of escorting no one else.â
The corners of your lips twitched as your cheeks gained some warmth. Your free hand tracing over the fabric of your formal attire. The door slid open with a whispered hiss. The low hum of chatter from the sea of dress uniforms accented with their partners for the evening wrapped in shades that match the colors typically adorning their armor.
He extended his hand to stabilize your ascent. His gentle grip a tether ushering you into the bright lights and décor. Once inside, the air carried an electricity of restless troopers charged up from crowded flights to Coruscant and enough spirits to drown a sarlacc.
âWhere t-â
âRex!â
If they were not out in the open, the captain would have attempted to drag you away from the grinning trooper closing in. The captain sighed and swept a hand over his close kept blonde hair before the other trooper was in ear shot.
âCyare, this is Arc Tr-â
âJust Fives is fine,â He greeted, extending a hand for you to shake.
His smile growing as his eyes went from your face, to the captain's and back to you.
âSo this is the lovely creature that has the captain's eye.â Fives chuckled, âThanks by the way. Rex would let us go early any time you called.â
A giggle slipped past your lips at taking in Rex's pout, âGlad I could help.â
âHe's got good taste. You look better in our colors than we do.â
Rex's arm curled around your waist as he eyed his subordinate, âI couldn't agree more.â
Footsteps skittered against the polished floor. The soft squealing of dress shoes on the surface in an attempt to slow down.
âFives!â huffed another trooper, âHardcase...trying to...outdrink...big guy...from 99.â
The arc trooper raised a brow, âThis I gotta see,â He shot a parting grin, âYou two have fun, alright?â
The pair of troopers took their leave with Fives launching a two fingered salute. The captain shook his head with the hint of a chuckle as soon as the pair of troopers were out of earshot.
âThey'll be the death of me.â He murmured, soon offering a smile.
âShall we?â
With your own smile creeping across your lips, you crossed the threshold entering a space set aside for the main event. The dance floor changing hues as droids adjusted lights to music. A throng of troopers and dates alike crowded the floor. Dances ranging from sweet and chaste to motions that would be provocative even in the confines of clone bars.
Music cut through any dance floor chatter as another song began. The clone captain studied your expression. Your glances to what drew your attention; that sparkle in your eyes he never tired of. When you turned your gaze back to him, his hand swept out to the floor before you.
Your hand slipped into his, surrendering to the undertow of the dance floor. A hand cradling your lower back as you both found place within the rhythm. Your features creasing as he moved. Never once jostling you despite the movements of other dancers. You closed the distance. Your free hand inching higher along his shoulder.
âYou think you're hilarious, don't you?â
He chuckled, âYes, yes I do.â
Your pursed your lips, âYou said you couldn't dance.â
âThought I'd surprise you.â
âSo was it Jesse or Commander Tano that was your practice partner?â
â...General Skywalker called in a favor with Senator Amidala.â
The sight before of the calm and composed captain of the 501st Legion avoiding your eyes, warmed your heart. However it was the dusting of along the tips of his ears drew you closer until your lips graced his cheek. A gesture that was chaste, but also a spark which could light an inferno if left unchecked.
âPulling out all the stops tonight? I'm honored.â
âIt's a special night.â He replied, continuing his guidance in your own section of the dance floor, âThe galaxy and my brothers are safe.â
The warmth in your chest unfurled like a slumbering loth cat prompting you to reorient your arms to envelop him: A clone who had seen unspeakable horrors on the battle field, yet refused to let the life he never asked for turn him bitter and jaded.
His hand began a soothing circuit along your back. Fingertips barely making their presence known.
âYou alright, Cyare?â
You looked to him; his feature twisted in concern. The lights of the venue seemed to cast him in a halo.
Your lips crashed onto his. The embers resting in your chest roaring to life. Much too soon, lips parted for air.
âI'm glad you're here.â
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Solace
As the daughter of Alicent Hightower you had been fed stories of your older sister and her children, so when you are bethrothed to Jacaerys you arent too sure as to what to expect, and go into your courtship expecting the worse, only to find out you couldn't have been more wrong.
word count: 5,908
CW: MDI 18+, smut, fluff. p in v, fingering, loss of virginity, oral (f reciving), incest not beta read!
Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader
a/n - no war au
Masterlist
She had been betrothed to Prince Jacearys since they were both children, before most noble children even knew the expectation of one day getting married off and yet since the day of said betrothal, they had not spent a single moment together. Nor had you exchanged a single letter nor a single thought of the other, at least she had not.Â
In all honesty she had simply lived as if he and their impending marriage did not exist, so when he returned for his brother's hearing and for their courtship to officially begin, they were at a complete loss of where to begin, they knew of no common interests, and there familyâs had been pitted against each other their entire lives. Seeing as they had never been close in their youth, nor present much time together, seeing as she had kept to herself or Heleana, and Jacearys having spent most of his time with his brother and hers.
She had always preferred solitude, preferred to keep to her books, painting, and her beloved dragon Gaelithox. Gaelithox perhaps the only being she would spend day after day with willingly.Â
she had hoped he would be similar. Though from what she could remember, he always seemed to find himself surrounded by others, not once does she remember seeing him alone. Perhaps if she had then she would have gotten to know him. But for her crowds were her worst fear, talking to more than one person or anyone was really. But Jacearys was always the centre of attention, with his good looks and charisma, it seemed he never begged for attention, it just always simply found him. She hoped marrying him would not force her to become the same.
How they expected her to one day be queen confused her. With Jacearys as the future king she would have all these responsibilities and have to do everything she hated. Her mother had made sure to tell her that, to start to show her what would be expected of her.
For all she knew it was a scare tactic from her mother, y/n knew her mother hated them, she would call them bastards and would whisper in her ear more and more rumours about her eldest sister and her eldest son.Â
So, when he arrived all she could do was watch him. Scared to start a conversation, and too nervous to make any moves towards him. So she stood from the sidelines as he found himself surrounded by the keeps inhabitants.Â
As she watched him at dinner, following lucerys victory of being declared the future lord of the tides, she very much doubted he would like solitude as much as she did. The few moments where he found himself not in conversation, he almost seemed nervous. She feared he would never understand her fear of crowds, or her hate for balls and feasts. Nor understand what her mother referred to as her quirks. He was loud and charismatic, all traits she lacked. He was drawn to crowds and seemed to thrive at the events she hated. But he seemed to suffer in the moments she loved the moments alone, the quiet moments.
She had been forced to sit away from her usual seat and sit nearer to the centre, a place where all eyes were on her. She sat opposite her eldest sister, Rhaenyra, with Jacearys on one side, and Aegon on the other.Â
Aegon had been making crude jokes all evening, whispering and taunting her. Though she had become extremely talented at ignoring him, it was starting to bug her, and all she wished was to retire to bed.Â
Luckily, he seemed to be the only one interested in her, until Rhaenyra decided to start a conversation with her. She had never really known her eldest sister, having always been stopped by her mother. She remembered when her and Rhaenyra would have bi-weekly garden tea, until her mother found out and banned her from even going near Rhaenrya chambers.
Over the years her mother had told her only the worst about Rhaenyra, and forced her own hatred or mayhap envy of her onto y/n. And yet she only ever seemed to be kind to her when they did interact.Â
âSister?â y/n heard her call out.
âYes princess?â she responded, stuttering from being addressed.Â
âAre you quite alright, you look quite pale?â her face was concerned, as did Jaceaerys when he turned from his seat to face ger at his motherâs words.
âi-â you looked down starting to pull at the skin on your fingers, âi do not find i fit in well in such gatherings, it's just stressâ she spoke, voice shaking as y/n looked down and bringing her fingers to her mouth biting the skin around them.
âWould you like me to escort you back to your chambers?â She heard Jacearys ask in concern.Â
At this her motherâs attention was captured, as she snapped her head around, ending her conversation with her grandsire, in doing so capturing the whole tables attention âwhatâs wrong dearests?â
âi- i would like to retire mother?â y/n almost begged, desperate for the offered reprieve.
âof course Aem-âher mother began, before being interrupted, clearly offering Aemond to escort her to her chambers.Â
âI shall escort her,â Jacearys interrupted, standing from his seat and offering his hand that
she took it nervously. These were the most words either had spoken for each other, at least that she could remember.Â
Walking down the halls of the keep, she found herself in a comfortable silence. Though Jacearys seemed to find it rather uncomfortable as he began to ramble on about gods knows what.
âso i told Luke -â
She hummed, responding to a question she probably heard minutes ago, she hated to admit it but she was seriously struggling to follow whatever he was talking about. The topic of which changed near every second.Â
He stopped walking suddenly, causing her to be pulled back as their arms were still interlinked. He seemed to finally realise he was talking nonsense and had lost her completely âIâm sorry, Iâve been rambling on and you canât even follow a word of what i was saying i-âÂ
âoh no i- i, well yes, but I believe you are just nervous⊠as am ilâ y/n spoke softly.Â
He nodded, âyour right, i- i have been trying to think of anything i know about you, any shared memories and yet i can not find a single thingâ he shook his head, seemingly ashamed.
âoh well⊠we never really talked until today, i always much preferred my own company to that of othersâ
âoh i- really?â he sounded confused as if spending time by himself was beyond him.
âi always found i was always more myself when with others, in fact i find myself nervous when I am alone '' he spoke, slowly making sure not to ramble on once more.
âI suppose I have never found such solace with another person as to feel myself with another personâ you looked down, she too seemed so polar to one another and feared her solitude would always be interrupted once she married him.Â
âI understand that, Luke is the same wayâ he looked at her then, âi hope that i can be the person you find solace in, one day..â he took her hands, stoking them softly, it was always a hard thing for her, touch. Always avoiding it, and only taking hugs to shaking someoneâs hand when she knew social construct dictated she should. And yet with him it was fine it seemed nice almost, something she could get used to, even find solace in.
âI would like thatâ she nodded, and he gave her a sweet smile, relief almost washing over his face. He took her arm once more and led her back to her chambers, this time instead of rambling, he simply asked her questions about herself, and for once she happily answered them.
The next day she was awoken to the sound of rapped knocks on her door. Though she normally slept in, it was still rather early for such a thing. Opening the door she saw Jacaerys standing with a bouquet of flowers, more specifically peonies, a flower that you would often find embroidered on several of her dresses.Â
âPrince-â
âJaceâ he interrupted â please call me Jace, we are to be a married soon it is only rightâÂ
âJaceâ she said slowly, getting used to the informality she lacked with even her own family , âwhat are you doing here so early?âÂ
âEarly?â he laughed, as if if the idea that nine in the morning could ever be considered early, âi suppose it could beâ
âWhy are you here?â She asked, almost irritated.
âSorry,â he spoke, reaching his arm out to present her with the peonies'' i simply came to ask if we may break our fast, with the hope you had yet to eat and yet it seems i woke you,â he shook his head âi apologise, i am used to waking up early for training. I should have thought you may have preferred to sleep inâ he looked down nervously.
Sniffing the flowers, she moved into her room, leaving the door agar as an invitation for Jace to come in. âI would like thatâ she nodded, âThough this is still rather early for me, so i shall need to call my maids to help me dress and prepare our breakfastâ
âearly?â He again asked, âwhat time do you normally wake?â
âMostly before noon, but not before 10,â you looked up with a small smile, âi find i can sleep the days away if allowed, it is one of the few things i can never seem to get enough offâ
He laughed, the nerves leaving him slightly. âI find i am always awake by eight, at the latest, sadly i do not possess the same skill to sleep in, a skill i am much jealous of.â He smiled, â i shall have the guards fetch your maids and order breakfast, and perhaps tomorrow we may share lunch insteadâÂ
âI would like that,â she nodded.
Their fast was spent with the exchange of shy smiles and timid questions asked, as time went on they grew more comfortable and found their rhythm, and she found the tiredness she felt from talking to others never came.Â
The next moon was perfect, each day she would wake, dress, then Jace would meet her and she broke her fast and he took his second meal. Then they would walk the gardens. After a few days, she confessed how typically she would ride Gaelithox the second she awoke, and soon they found they were going for dragon rides every morning. Vermax and Gaelithox enjoying each other's company. Every second was filled with chatter, and those few that were not, neither felt any awkwardness, just contentment, solace.
They seemed to spend almost every second of every day with each other and yet she not once found it tiring, or wished for a reprieve, she simply wished for more.
There were even days where she wished for no talking and Jace was more than happy to spend the whole day in silence, simply enjoying each other's company, as they went about their own tasks.
She felt as if she was learning everything there was to know about him, through his stories she felt as if she knew his brothers, his family, like she had grown up with them , and not just watching them. She learnt his quirks and he learnt hers. And every day they seemed to learn something new.Â
But today was the first day she would spend without him since his arrival, with her father , the king, asking for Jace to accompany the small council meetings from now on.Â
So she had planned to spend the day alone, resuming her old daily routine even on the days where Jace was not in her company.Â
That was until her mother decided to skip the small council meeting and spend the day with her.
âDo not ever trust them, dearestâ her mother tutted, brushing through her hair. âThey only wish for you and he to grow close so when the time comes you are on their side-â
She had tried to tune her out, but the instant comments answered messing with her head. She felt as if she was falling in love with Jace and yet they way her mother spoke of him, it was as if he was worse than Aegon, a fact she knew was not true.
âmother!â she finally snapped , shaking her head she pulled away from her mother, âi do not care! Jace shall be my husband and as you have reminded me since the day I first bleed, that my duty is to my husband and his family before my own.â she then whispered to herself âa fact you do not follow yourselfâ continuing she said â so why now when it is the son of the woman you despise, am I to do the opposite?â It was so out of character for her and yet years and years of hearing the words bastard and betrayal and whispers of war, she was finished.Â
She fully pulled away from her mother and stood up, straightening her dress, âthis past moon i have felt more seen and known by Jace than anyone my whole life. My whole life I have detested company, and chatter, and have at any and all attempts avoided events. and now i find the one person i do not detest, and would falsely attend any event he wishes me to, someone i enjoy spending time with, my future husband! You wish to ruin it for me! Do you not want me to be happy?â She nearly yelled, her face turning from the sweet, shy and docile face it had always been had turned angry âyou clearly do not wish for Heleana to have happiness, as clear with her marriage to Aegon at three and ten!â She was steaming, years of biting her younger so as to not gain attention, or do more talking thatâs necessary, bitterness flowed through her.
âdearest i-â her mother started, moving towards and reaching for her to pull her in a hug, only to be met by an instant rejection.
âI simply wish for whatever war you are making up in your head to end, so you can finally allow me the happiness I deserve!â And with that she walked about, only to be met with Jace and Rhaenyra's face as she walked out.Â
Jace chased after her, leaving his mother left to deal with Alicent.
ây/nâ he called out, ây/n stop!â
âNo, I can't,â she said as she continued down the halls, though she did slow down, allowing Jace a chance to catch up with her. âif i stop walking Iâll march right back in there and apologies!â she proclaimed.
âI'm sure you won't, you did the right thing '' Jace spoke, still trying to catch up with her.
âi have bite my tongue my whole life, never expressing my thoughts or opinions, and today i did!â she spoke, as she realised she was walking towards Jaceâs chambers. She didnât even think of where she was going, having stormed out of her own rooms, it seemed that in this past month his room had become a comfort to her.
Finally catching up in time to open the door to his rooms. ây/n you donât have to explain, you didnât do anything, you just spoke up for yourself andâŠfor meâ y/n swear she saw him blush.
âi know it was hard for you, that talking and expressing yourself is something your struggle withâŠbut you stood up for yourself itâs nothing you have to feel bad about itâs something you should be proud ofâ he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips âand in all honestly i was rather impressedâ
âyou where?â she blushed, stepping one closer.Â
he nodded, â you know me and my mother were coming to your chambers to discuss the weddingâ he said wrapping his arm around her waist. a movement and touch she had now grown to love. â We are to be married in a fortnightâ his face moved closer to her.
âWe are?â she questioned, her breathing getting heavier.Â
he nodded, there faces so close they were sharing their breaths âyes, soon you will be my wife, and i your husband and your mothers silly little rants will have no sway any longerâÂ
she gasped, he leant forward and finally kissed her, it was soft and sweet, leaving them both a blushing mess.Â
The next two weeks moved slowly, filled with wedding planning.Â
Her relationship with her mother was strained, finding most of the planning to be with her eldest sister Rhaenrya and even Heleana more so than her own mother. And the few times she was there she simply sent a glare in their direction and took at every laugh and smile.
She found that she rather enjoyed her sister's company, the two having a few similar interests. Rhaenyra seemed kind and cared for her children a great deal and as a result she did with her too.Â
She knew her mother cared, but watching her mother interact with Rhaenyra highlighted that most of her mothers objections were actually ones of jealousy. She was Jealous of Rhaenyra and more so of Daemon, as he received more glares the more he and Rhaenrya showed affection to one another. So much jealousy that she swear she saw some longing in her gaze whenever she stared at Rhaenrya.
The day before her wedding she finally found herself alone with her mother though from the way her mother barged into her room she knew the conversation the pair were about to have would not be a pleasant one.
âsit down dearestâ she spoke as she herself got comfortable. Doing as her mother bid, she sat beside her. Her mother quickly took her hand in hers, tight enough that even if she were to recoil it would not break her free.Â
âWhen I had this. Conversation with your sister, she already knew some of what was to come, with her Marrying Aegon, and will he loved to taunt her with the gory details for moons before their weddingâ Alicent took a deep breath. âOn the morrow you will be wed, and with that shall come some expectationsâÂ
she nodded, not quite sure what her mother meant. ânot only will you be taking on some of my duties but there is also the expectation of an heirâŠâ she looked at her then, expecting her to interrupt in some way. She stayed quiet, she knew she would have to have children but how the act itself was done was peculiar to her.
Her mother shifted uncomfortably, âonce you are wed the marriage must be consummatedâ she awkwardly grabbed at her hands, ïżœïżœïżœit will be uncomfortable but some pleasure can be found in the actâ she sent her mother peculiar look, causing her mother to cough uncomfortably and once again move to explain âyour husband willâŠinsert himself in you, and spill his seed, allowing a babe to be made, though it can take some time so i shall prey you are lucky and conceive soonâŠâ
she looked down quietly âmother âshe spoke slowly, âAegon is my brother, though he and i arenât close i haveâŠwalked in on him numerous times, time enough to know what sex isâÂ
Her mother was shocked, looking down and shaking her head, âyour brother has no shame-â
âmother, i also have a septa who taught meâ she laughed, Heleana only did not know because she was young mother, i am aware, in fact me and-â she cut herself off not wanting her mother to become more shocked at hearing how her and Jace have already talked of the wedding night.
They were both inexperienced, though Jace had been taken to brothels by Daemon he had never actually done anything, wanting to save himself for his wife. A fact she was most happy about.Â
She loved Jace, she realised. He was everything she did not expect, though he was chatty and loud, he was also kind and sweet, a perfect gentleman. She and him had more in common than not, they both loved to read though Jace found little time to do so, so was more than happy to listen to her ramble on and on about the last book she read. She had shown him how to paint and draw, a skill he, though terrible at, found rather enjoyable, especially when he got the flicking paint at her. She herself had even found she loved a few of his hobbies or well if you can call sword fighting a hobby.Â
she remembered the morning, it was still early in their courtship, the first week in. She and Jace had yet to sleep and yet they could see dawn breaking through the windows in his room. They had spent the whole day and night talking, getting to know each other. âitâs dawn already?â Jace sighed as he moved from his spot on the sofa. she sighed from the movement, missing his warmth.Â
âitâs seems soâ she hummedÂ
âitâll be time for training soon.â he spoke, not necessarily to her.Â
âDo you train alone?âÂ
âHere I do, On Dragonstone Daemon is typically dragging me and Luke out of bed the second the sun begins to rise but here he has no desire to trainâ he looked at her, âwhy donât you join me?â he asked.
âi have never even touched a swordâ she exclaimed, as if the idea was a mad one.
He grinned âexactly, itâll be most entertaining!â
she laughed, âfine, but you must promise to show me your high Valyrian!â y/n declared, he had been complaining how bad his Valyrian was but refused to show her, despite her being fluent and offering to teach him.
He sighed, then a big grin filled his face âvery well, let us teach one another, i teach you in swordsmanship and you teach me high ValyrianâÂ
she laughed âvery well! though i make no promises to these swordplay lessons!â
They met again in the training yard, both in training clothes. She had borrowed hers from Jace and she was sure he was trying to sabotage her. His clothes hung from her in an almost comical way, he himself had laughed as she nearly tripped netting the training yard.
âyou look beautifulâ he said though his eyes were full of mirth as he took in the way his clothes hung from her.
âPerhaps you could have given me some of Luke's clothes insteadâ she sighed, a frown forming her face as she hung her arm up to show just how big his sleeves were compared to her arms.
âNext time we shall!â he declared, stopping his laughter to then pass her a wooden sword âfor now itâs fine.âÂ
The sword was heavier than she was expecting, as shown by how she nearly dropped it.
âdo you do any exercise?â he asked, seeing her near miss with the sword.
she scoffed âno, do i look like someone who does?â she asked bewildered.
he laughed âno i suppose not, and knowing you it doesn't surprise me that you do notâ he took the sword off her âperhaps we should start with some exerciseâ
âwhat?â she asked, she hated doing anything that could be remotely referred to as exercise.Â
âDonât worry, just some light exercise, to build staminaâ he looked at her then, something passing through his eyes. something she had yet to see.Â
He had made her run ten laps, stretch in more easily than she knew possible, And then finally let her hold the sword. âYou know I was hoping you wouldnât take this so seriouslyâ she sighed, hitting the dummy repeatedly. Jace corrects her technique with each hit. âreally?â
âOf course not, when you said it I had hoped we would just be jesting aroundâ she sighed dramatically, before moving to place the sword down on the rack. âI think that this âlessonâ is over.â she started to walk away only for Jace to grab her arm.
âWait!â he said, pulling her back to him gently. âAre you really not enjoying yourself?â he asked with a sad smile on his face.Â
y/n sighed, before a small smile graced her face âno, but perhaps hearing you speak some high Valyrian may make it more joyous.â she spoke, though she was enjoying herself a little, though it would definitely not be a hobby she would be taking up, though watching him practice his swordsmanship, that is a hobby she will be taking up.
âI- really?â he asked, his face unsure, ânyk-e donât Èłdragon ziree sÈłrâ
She laughed, his accent and pronunciation were all over the place, perhaps she was better at swordsmanship after one lesson that he was at high Valyrian after years of lessons, âitâs gaoman daor Èłdragon ziry sÈłrÄ«â
I do not speak it well
âSee what I mean!â he exclaimed, as she continued to laugh.
âoh Jace, gaomagon daor worry nyke sure kesÄ jiĆragon sÈłrkta isse daor jÄdaâ she taunted.Â
do not worry Iâm sure you will get better in no time
âI have no idea what you just said '' he sighed, shaking his head, âbut at least i can hold a sword properlyâ he taunted back to her.
âHey! It's my first lesson, have you been learning high Valyrian for how long?â she questioned, a gleam in her eyes.
âhÄre jÄdriâ he replied, a smile as he realised he had pronounced it correctly
Three years
She hummed, beginning to circle him, âhÄre jÄdri? funny seeing hae heleanas riñar Èłdragon sÈłrkta eglie valyrain than ao se issi balrey hÄre pĆntÄlaâ
three years? Funny seeing as Heleanas children speak better high Valyrian than you and they are balrey three themselves
âI- well, stop taunting me!â he protested.
âOnly if we can stop this, will I have reached my yearly exercise limit.. For the year!â she joked, dramatically falling, conveniently into his arms.Â
âFine, fine!â he said, âbut you can not mention to anyone about my high Valyrian.â he brought her back to her feet.
âOh please who would i tell? se lo nyke gĆntan, skorkydoso would ao sesÄ«r gÄ«migon?â she laughed, starting to walk away, only to have Jace chase her back all the way back to her chambers.
and if i did, how would you even know?
It was safe to say she never participated in his training again, but on the odd days she was awake when he went, she found she did in fact enjoy watching him.
It took a few attempts before they found a hobby they both loved equally. Painting. She had been painting for as long as she can remember, Jace however had taken it up about two weeks ago, but seemed to love it as much as she.
âLet's paint each other!â Jace declared, as he saw the paints y/n left out.Â
She hesitated, âhave you ever painted before?â
âNo, but how hard could it be?â She laughed at that, but said nothing.
They sat opposite each other, their art facing only themselves. They gave themselves an hour before they would show each other what they had painted.Â
Jace went first. He seemed so proud of himself. To give him credit it was fairly good, though it looked nothing like her.Â
âIt's good!â she exclaimed, âi like itâ she reached forward to grab it âi shall have it framedâ she hummed. Jace smiled widely at that.
âShow me yours!â he asked, or more declared as he turned the canvas around himself.Â
His face was shocked, mouth wide, âi- wowâ he was at a loss of words. âThis is incredible!â he exclaimed, his face one of awe, âand you said mine was good!, you were lying!â
She laughed, âno-no it is, i promiseâ i grabbed his art then, comparing the two, before throwing his on the floor, âoh please, mine is rubbish, yours is wow! I think it shall become my official portrait!â he exclaimed standing up and walking to the doors with it.Â
âwoah ! where are you going?â she asked standing up to follow him.
âToo show everyoneâ he stated as if it was the obvious answer.
He showed it to everyone he saw, a blushing y/n on his tail.
âMother.â she spoke, back once more in the present, âi trust him, more than anyone and anythingâ at that her mother relaxed, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, she saw a real smile gracing her mothers face.
The day of the wedding came, she had expected nerves and jitters, and yet all she felt was contentment. She knew she was lucky, most brides barely knew their husband before they wed them, and she knew Jace and he knew her. She knew his quirks, his hobbies, and he knew hers. They were polar opposites, and yet they fit so perfectly together. She was excited for this day, and as was he.
The dress she wore was her mothers dress. A white dress with sleeves coming down to her elbow before dropping down to the length of her dress showing a deep red. On her shoulder sat two dragons, dragons she had changed to represent Vermax and Gaelithox. The dragons were joined together and connected in an intricate pattern on her bodice. She wore no jewellery, only a small head piece, woven into the braids on her hair.
âYou look beautifulâ her mother declared. âAre you ready?â
y/n nodded, taking one final look at herself in the mirror, one last time before leaving her room.
The wedding was a blur, it went by so fast and before she knew it, Jace and her were declaring their love and sealing it with a kiss. They exchanged giddy smiles as they left theÂ
sept, their hands never wavering from their grip. The night celebrations went by quickly. The only time they never once left each others sides. It was the first event y/n ever truly enjoyed, they had danced four times that night, feasted to their heart's content, and enjoyed the first few hours of being newlyweds.Â
Then it was time for the bedding. She had never been more grateful than when Jace shouted at the men attempting to drag her away, and he himself picking her up and taking her to their now shared chambers.Â
âI am sorry for that.â he spoke, taking her hand in his, âI had made it clear we would not have a bedding, but -â
âAegon had other plans' ' she interrupted, âdo not worry, it's just who he is' ' she laughed.
For the first time in weeks the silence between them was awkward. Both knowing what was to come, but not how to start.
After a few moments Jace finally moved forward, he reached for her slowly, one had wrapping around her waist, the other reaching up to caress her face. They both looked at each other shyly, before Jace moved in closer, his lips capturing hers. It was soft and slow.
His lips still joined with hers they moved further into the room, his hand moving from her waist to her back, reaching and slowly unlacing the binds of her bodice.
âAre you okay with this?â he asked, breaking away from her lips.
She nodded, âyes.â Â As she slowly reached to pull of her dress, leaving her in just her chemise.
Jace groaned his pants tightening, he reached forward once again capturing her lips in his.
 They slowly moved towards the bed, her hands reaching towards his clothes, slowly taking them off and leaving him in his small clothes.
There lips breaking apart, they both took each other in, before finally lying on the bed. Jace continued to kiss her slowly moving from her lips to her neck, his hands reaching down to her should and moving the straps of her chemise down, revealing her breasts.
âgodsâ he groaned, âyouâre so beautifulâ he said as he moved down to kiss her breasts. Slowly moving down her body, removing her chemise as he did, leaving her bare beneath him.
He was level with her heat, he had heard of kissing there and the thought of tasting her in such a way made a groan escape him. âCan I?â he begged, unsure of what he meant y/n nodded.
Jace dived in, giving a cautious lick through her folds, he groaned at the taste and quickly went back licking and tasting like a starved man. She herself was moaning in pleasure, her hands clutching the back of his neck, tightening when he finally found her bud.
Releasing the reaction form touching the small bud of nerves, he made sure to focus his efforts on it, sucking it into his mouth, and bringing his fingers up to her entrance, beginning to circle her juices and slowly tease his way into her.
Tensing at the feeling of the intrusion, she gripped further onto him, and started to move away. With his spare hand he gripped onto her and pulled her back to him. His finger now pully in he instead started to focus his intentions of pumping them in and out of her. Causing her to start moaning once again in pleasure, even more so when his second and third finger entered her. Soon she was reaching her peak.
He slowly backed away from her, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick long length.
âgodsâ they both groaned at the sight of the others naked body. He slowly crawled back onto the bed, his body covering hers. He once again took her lips with his, in a passionate and heated kiss, his legs slowly parted hers as he positioned himself at her entrance.
âAre you sure?â he once again asked, caressing her face.
She nodded, covering the hand on her face with her own and reaching forward to kiss him again, âyesâ she consented.
He nodded, kissing her once more as he slowly entered her.
She groaned at the stretch, feeling at slight sting as he slowly entered her. Her face contorted in quick discomfort, but quickly faded as he settled himself fully inside her, allowing her time to adjust.
âgods, you feel amazingâ he groaned, moving his head to her neck. âcan I move?â he groaned, near begged.
âyesâ she said, and he wasted no time, slowly pumping in and out of her. Slowly the discomfort faded and all she could find was pure pleasure.
Moving in and out of her, Jace was moaning, kissing her neck with each thrust, he had never felt such pleasure as he did in this moment.
Slowly picking up the pace, he soon found that sweet spot inside her, that turned her into a moaning mess. Wrapping her arms around his neck she was soon grinding her hips against his, chasing her peak, and he was soon reaching one of his own, spilling his seed inside of her.
Slowly pulling from her, her moved to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her towards him, he kissed her slowly and whispered, âI love youâ. In that moment she felt what could only be described as solace.
That night, they did not sleep a wink, nor would they in the moons that followed. Their marriage was a harmonious one, one of love and joy. And when the king finally passed, and Rhaenrya was queen, there was no division of factions of house Targaryen, she liked to think that their marriage has helped branch the units, and make them once more a family.
Even more so when nine moons after their wedding she birthed their first child.
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TOUCHDOWN ON THAT PUSSY !
a good way to celebrate the victory of a game is to have a sweet little treat right after.
( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, satoru gojo & geto suguru, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 5905 words !
â°â†football player!gojo satoru & afab!reader (she/her) & football player!geto suguru, college football!au, threesome, some bantering on satosugu's part, teasing, oral through the panties, dry humping and groping, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, nipple play, oral (female & male receiving), cum eating, satosugu kiss, not proofread, etc.
( author's note. ) i had a vision of geto licking the pussy clean right after gojo cums in it, so i had to make it a reality. im a whore & also wanted some boy on boy action so accept this because i feel like that's the only right way to do a threesome. especially with satosugu.
Gojo has a promising future ahead of him as he dashes across the football field on the ten second mark. He canât hear a thing underneath his heavy football helmet, but everyoneâs screaming is getting louder as they stand on the bleachers and egging him closer to touchdown. Heâs unstoppable. His teammates back him up as they prevent the opposing team from laying a finger on him and if they get too close, Gojoâs an extraordinaire at ducking and dodging.Â
An absolute fiend he is, blazing through the bright green grass like the roadrunner, swift on his feet as heâs so close to victory. His coach was right, the Racers were no joke as they gave them their most difficult game in the season. Now theyâre at neck-and-neck, tied at 15. His team is depending on him to break this tie, to keep their winning streak going strong and heâd hate to disappoint.
The audience battles between watching the clock and the field, the six ticking down to a five.Â
Five⊠Theyâre starting to have their doubts, dread creeping into their bones as they begin to believe heâs not going to make it. Knuckles turning white as Gojo continues to speed with the ball in his hand.Â
Four⊠Someone is gaining up on him, only a few inches away from tackling him down until heâs beat down. Thereâs a stagger on his feet before he picks up the same moment. Three⊠Twâ It happens in a matter of a split second. With a force that could cause it to deflate, Gojo throws the ball down with his entire strength as he cheers, screaming through the helmet before the huge buzzer overhead goes off and blaring into plenty of ears.Â
Their moment of apprehension is replaced with exhilaration as Gojo pulls off his helmet, revealing his white head of beautiful hair, shaking it as sweat beads down his face. His teammates all come to surround him, his coach getting into the mix as they use all of their strength to throw him in the air. The opposing side mopes, heading to their side as they grab their towels and huddle around each other. While disappointment fills their lungs as their coach tries to give words of wisdom, the other party celebrates.
Itâs always been overwhelming, moments like thisâ especially one so big. Soon Gojo will be drafted, leaving college football to go professional and make it within the NFL. Thereâs already lots of chatter and noise as many people anticipate it. It feels incredulous, though he always expected it. He worked so hard for it and knew he deserved the best, but for it to become closer to him? It feels immaculate to see your dreams coming true before your eyes. Theyâve happened to him aplenty, when he graduated high school and got drafted the first time. It closely resembles this, that tight feeling within his chest thatâs suffocating him and close to putting him on the brink of death.Â
To get to that spot right into the college heâs been wanting to attend since the moment he figured out what he wanted to pursue in life. Everything he put his eye on and decided he wanted, he got it. To know it was through his hard work and dedication to get here, it brings a huge smile on his face.
However, to say he did it all alone would be a lie and a huge disrespect to Geto's name. His close friend stuck with him through it all, holding the same ambitions simultaneously. He put in the same work as Gojo did, landing them both a spot on the same team.The one to pass him the ball and assisting in their victory. The duo was a force to be reckoned withïżœïżœ undeniably good with each other.Â
The crowd slowly dissipated around Gojo, finally giving him the space he needed to catch his breath properly. Though, said friend and his coach stayed behind. Gojo extends his arms to be pulled into a tight hug. A retired player himself, the coach engulfs Gojo in pride and happiness for the youth. A burly chuckle that leaves his lips. âProud of ya, son. Youâre one of the strongest Iâve got blessed to work withââ Gesturing to Geto, he drags him into the hug as well. ââ You, too, boy! Youâve both made me so proud.â
âThank you, coach,â they say in unison.Â
Out of the helmet, a few strands of Getoâs raven locks have left the band of his bun, the sweat making it stick to his head as he swipes them away. âWe probably wouldâve gotten our ass handed to us if it werenât for you.â
âWell, ainât that damn right!â his coach laughs. âYour football careers wouldâve probably ended before they even officially started.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about,â Gojo jests, hands resting behind his head as he grins widely. âIâdâve been fine without you.â
Slapping him in the back of his head as Gojo winces his pain, his coach chortles. âYour ass wouldâve been in the ground, for sure, with that cocky attitude of yours.â
The coach leaves not too long afterwards before someoneâs walking past the bleachers and onto the football field. You werenât easily spotted at first, maneuvering yourself past hurdles of men as you can only muster up so many âexcuse meâsâ before youâre tired of the repetition. Youâre wearing one of Satoruâs jerseys that he got tailored to fit you just right, it is hugging you and your curves that the football players that want to ogle are immediately deterred they see the number of just who you belong to. Geto spots you first, the white-haired man has his back turned as he grabs a few of his things and is ready to head to the locker room before heâs being nudged. âYour trophyâs arrived.â
Knowing exactly who heâs talking about, Gojo spins on his heel right as youâre easier to make out through the shortening distance. That boyish smile that graces his features as he turns into an absolute fool when youâre in his sights. He goes to close the gap, jogging to close it even sooner. You pick up your pace, landing in his arms as youâre quickly engulfed by his sweaty form. You inhale his scent, accustomed to the sweaty musk after a game. He plants a chaste kiss against your neck, humming as his grip tightens.
âYou were great out there,â you breathe, arms wrapping around his neck before he detaches himself from yours. âItâs probably the best youâve ever played.â
âThanks, babe,â you murmurs, pulling you into a kiss. âCouldâve done infinitely better if you were out there on the field with me.â
You roll your eyes. âYou donât get tired of that stale joke, do you?â
âBecause Iâm not joking,â he pouts. âIf I got to chase after your fine ass out there, we wouldâve beat them much faster than we did.â
Pinching his arm so that he can put you down, you immediately go to fix your shirt. You exhale, âWell, you have Geto out there with you. Heâs got a nice bubble butt just for you to chase.â
Grimacing, Geto frowns as you come to approach him. He extends his arms to pull you in his embrace. âI donât think I like your form of objectification. Can we talk about something else?â
âYeah,â Gojo agrees. âI donât think I like your admittance that youâve checked out my best friend.â
The hug between you and Geto lasts a little longer than it should, though shorter than your embrace with Gojo. Pulling away from the heat that Geto enfolds you in, you push at his chest as you giggle, kissing Gojoâs pouting cheek in reassurance. Your hands wrap around his waist, one lingering to his ass as you give it a few pats. âDonât worry, babes. I prefer yours, anyway.âÂ
The field is diminishing as the three of you linger, the boys getting their things together. You planned on waiting for them not too far along, hanging with a bunch of your girl friends in a group, so that you can feel safer before you leave. Gojo comes to peck your lips once more. âIâll message you when weâre ready, âkay?â
âMhm,â you nod.
âCall or text me if you need anything,â he presses.
âOf course, I will,â you assure him, puckering up your lips some more for more affection that heâs glad to give. With a few more farewells before he lets you leave, youâre throwing Geto a temporary goodbye before youâre sauntering down the field again, your hips swaying with every step you take. The two boys watch you leave before Getoâs glancing at Gojo. âHave you told her?â
He knows his best friend all too well, aware that he can prolong things to the absolute last second. And just as he suspected, Gojo shakes his head. âNah, not yet.â
However, it still brings him to shock that heâd do it for something like this. Something you might not even agree to. âWhy not?â
âBecause I thought it would be a nice surprise,â he shrugs, his nonchalance picking at Getoâs annoyance. "Makes it sexier.â
âWhat if she says no?â
âShe wonât.â
âSatoru,â Geto digs, crossing his arms as the two finally make their way to the locker room. He can be such a cocky asshole sometimes, so sure of himself until heâs hearing the word ânoâ and feeling like a fool. And in this case, Geto can also be one if you end up disagreeing.Â
âShe wonât! I promise you,â Gojo continues reassuring his best friend. Heâs seen the way you interact with Geto. Youâve admitted your attraction towards the long-haired brunette before, when he vaguely tried to get your opinion on the proposition of a threesome with him. He never coined the term exactly, but he assumed that through your attraction, it would be something youâre interested in. âI know my girl better than anything. Sheâs down.â
Geto sighs as he decides to put his trust into Gojo instead of making the decision to delay things in itself. Heâs said it before. I know my girl better than anything. While Gojoâs been wrong on plenty of things, so far, when it comes to you, Gojoâs an expert. Punching his arm to elicit a wince, white eyebrows furrowing before glaring at Geto. He doesnât have to verbally say it, What was that for?Â
Geto points in his face, brown eyes boring holes into Gojoâs blue. âYou better be right because Iâll beat your ass if youâre not.â
â
From Gojo: hey, the locker room is empty now. just me and geto. come.
You furrow your eyebrows reading Getoâs name. Typically when the locker room is empty, itâs an open invite for sex. And if another personâs in there, itâs not entirely empty as he says it is.
To Gojo: geto?
Immediately, Gojoâs typing in. Three dots bouncing before your phone is vibrating in your hand once more.
From Gojo: just come. wanna talk about something with u
âHey,â you call for the attention of the girls that around you at a picnic table. They were all nice to stay with you for the time being. âGojo said heâs ready. Iâm gonna go meet up with him.â
âDo you want us to come with?â one of them asks, eyes brightening up as she comes to stand. However, shaking your head, you stop her.
âNo, Iâm fine from here. Thank you so much, though!â you bid your farewells, showing your gratitude to them repetitively as you walk off. Then, youâre met with the silence of the night, hearing the chirps of cicadas and crickets deep in the grass and the sizzling of the overhead lights illuminating your path as the sky begins to darken. Itâs getting chilly as you hold yourself, the short-sleeved jersey and the tight denim jeans barely doing a thing to conceal you and give you warmth.Â
When you arrive at the locker room door, you know in a specific rhythm that immediately lets Gojo know that youâre here. Shortly enough, the door swings open as Gojoâs standing before you, dressed down in a pair of baggy gym shorts that stop below his knees and a muscle tee. He pulls you in by the waist, kissing you quickly and leading a path towards Geto. He sports a similar fit to Gojoâs, just replace the shirt with a regular band one. His hair back in a neater bun as he leans against the lockers, arms crossed and one leg on one of the seats. Thereâs a shift within the air as Gojo sits down next to his leg, making you cock an eyebrow as you grow nervous. âWhatâs up? Is something the matter?â
âNo,â Gojo denies. âNothingâs wrong. Just need to ask you something.â
âAsk me what?â The tension in the air nips at your skin, bringing you to a comfort that you donât like. Noticing this, Gojo puts his hand in yours, pulling you down onto his lap to put his lips on yours to ease it. Geto can only watch, shifting to hide the impending erection just in case this goes left. His moist pink lips on yours are sweet. They always are. Making you addicted to them and has you whining when he pulls away.Â
âYou trust me, right?â Gojoâs blue eyes stare into yours, searching for something that you canât quite define. Yet, you nod because you do. You always have. âAnd you know that if you donât want this, you can say no, right?â
âWant whatââ
âIf Geto were to kiss you right now,â Gojo interjects. âHowâd you feel?â
ââToru,â you look at him in confusion, refusing to look over at Geto. âWhat are you getting at?â
âMan,â Geto finally speaks up. âI told you, you shouldâveââ
However, heâs cut off with a hush from Gojo before his focus is right back to you. He takes a deep breath as youâre trying to get a hold of whatâs happening before you. Your mind is going to a few possibilities before you land on the right one. But, in denial, you wait for Gojo to continue speaking. âIf he were to touch youââ his hands start traveling all over you, from your shoulders down to your thighs to in between your stomach and to in between the crevices of your breasts. Your heart rate starts to increase as well as your breathing as you finally muster up the courage to glance over at Geto, whose eyes are already on you. ââtouch you in the way I do. Make you feel good in the way, er, close to the way I do⊠Would you want that?â
Your eyes havenât left Getoâs, mind finally wrapping around the current proposition. âYou want a threesome?â
Glancing over at his friend, Gojo nods. âYeah, weâve talked about it, but we wonât do it if you donât want to. If you say noââ
âNo,â you say so abruptly before youâre sputtering on your words as Gojoâs immediately caught off guard. âWait, I mean, yes. I agree.â
It takes a moment for either man to register that youâre agreeing to this. That you want to have a threesome. Gojo chokes out a laugh, a grin gracing his features. âYou had me on a rollercoaster for a second.âÂ
âSorry,â you apologize sheepishly. Geto inches closer to the two of you, hand pushing at the back of Gojoâs head.Â
âGuess you were right,â the corners of his lips twitching upwards. âYou do know your girl.â
âÂ
You never took your attraction towards Geto seriously. He was a sweet guy and often people have told you that you shouldâve gone for him instead of Gojo. However, you have a type. And while Geto is an angel and if you were to date him, heâd treat you like royalty, you know Gojoâs the one for you. Thatâs why Gojo has so much trust in you. Knowing that despite it all, youâll still run to him after this. That despite Getoâs hands on you right now, your back leans against him and holding onto his wrist as heâs got you secure in his hold.
His cock is painfully hard in his gym shorts, pressing into your back as youâre slouched off the seat. Gojoâs hand is snaked under your jersey, your bra hiked over your breasts as theyâre pooled out for his enjoyment. Your breathing is heavy, dark nipples puckered and being played with. Youâve let out breathy moans and squeaky whines as the two men are determined to tease you to death. Despite your pleas, Geto continues to play with your pussy through the fabric of your panties, watching how it darkens as your juices soak through it. His thumb would prod at your clit, pressing down as your arousal keeps on coming and pushing through. Your sweet cunt would throb and clench for more, thighs tensing up as the boys sought after your torture.Â
Your back arches as you plead, begging Geto to do more. âPlease, Sug. Please.â
Then Gojo moves one hand to play with the band of your panties, the hem continuously snapping against your skin as your boyfriend lets Geto continue his teasing. Geto would be a liar to say heâs doing all of this because he loves to see you whine and writh from what heâs doing, but truthfully, itâs not. While he loves seeing how you get so worked up, he enjoys seeing how your pussy can develop so much slick. The bubbles that it forms as youâre just secreting so much that it comes to mess in between your thighs whenever you tighten them together to the point he has to pry your legs open once more. He should stop, his cock painfully hard and wanting nothing more than to empty himself inside of you, but no. Impatience never leads to anything good.Â
It feels so good, having you buck your hips out, pressing your body into Gojo and squirming around. You donât know what youâre doing to your boyfriend, rubbing against him in your lust-fogged mind as you canât focus on the erection against your back. He wants nothing more than to have you. Fuck that tight pussy of yours and have his fill, but he wonât dare be too hasty for the sake of his best friend. The one down on his knees messing with your pussy as if it were a toy, resembling a cat. But, he himself is growing impatient and heâs afraid that with you pressed into him like this, heâs going to cum earlier than anticipated.Â
âCâmon, Sug,â he emphasizes your nickname for Geto. âGive my girl what she wants.â
âIs that why your girl is such a spoiled brat?â the brunette chuckles. âAlways giving into what she wants?â
You whine and pout at him Geto. ââm notââ
âYeah,â Gojo agrees, turning your head to face him and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. âMaybe if you were more giving, youâd have a girl already.â
You find it obnoxious how even in a moment like this, they find a way to banter with each other. It makes you frown as you jut your hip out forward. âStop arguing and do something already.â
Finally does Geto inch in closer to your pussy, fingers prodding at the hem of your panties, but not moving it. You can feel his breath against your covered cunt, breathing steadily while you feel like an erratic mess. âAnd there you go proving me right,â he chuckles.Â
His tongue presses against your core, not removing your panties as you hoped, but he presses into your cunt deep that it tickles your folds and has you jolting in Gojoâs arms. You can hear a soft fuck leave Gojoâs lips as he bucks his hips out. Hooded eyelids with his sapphire blue eyes peering down at you as yours are shut now.Â
Your braids tickle his bare skin, and surely a bit disheveled at the naughty actions youâre partaking in tonight. However, he can ignore the scratching as he watches Geto enjoy the taste of your pussy, sucking up your slick through the fabric of your panties. Itâs a lewd sight that he canât help but chuckle at, pushing you more into his tongue as Getoâs arms come to grip your thighs and pull you closer to the edge.Â
One hand traverses to press a thumb into your clit while he laps at your panties, sucking at it hard to drag your juices out of it. You never thought youâd have found it so hot for a man to eat you out like this, it's enough being able to have you moaning like this. Your folds feel sticky as you leak and leak into your underwear. However, itâs still not enough, your body begging and aching for more to be done to you. You throw your head back, it nearly bangs into Gojoâs as you whimper out. You manage to maneuver a leg around Getoâs shoulder, bringing him closer to your core.
Heâs addicted to your taste already, moaning as he feels you wrap yourself around him, slotted in between you and your boyfriendâs legs. Grunting and groaning, his cock strains inside his pants, his pre staining his boxers and surely to show through his shorts. For a girl thatâs not even his to have him feeling this way, addicted off of somethingâ someoneâ thatâs not his.Â
âFuck,â he pulls himself off of you, leaving you unsatisfied and wanting more. He pulls your legs off him rather abruptly as he comes to his feet. He doesnât have to say a word to Gojo, one of his hands already disappearing into the band of your panties to shove two fingers inside of you. It has you screaming out in the locker room, your cries echoing loudly. They can only hope and pray that the janitors on the night shift donât come inside anytime soon to stop them.Â
The stretch is somewhat painful, Gojoâs fingers are long and they hit deep inside of you, touching at your g-spot. Heâs easy on you as Geto shuffles with his pants, pulling at the tie and letting it drop to the ground along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. He differs from Gojo, where your boyfriend has more length to him, Geto has more girth. His shaft is darker, a fat cock that is slightly over the average. His balls hang heavy as his happy trail is carefully trimmed and is wavy. The only thing you can say that the two resemble is that theyâre both cut, no mushroom head to fill you up.Â
He inches towards you. The fingers stuffed inside you start to move, your walls wrapping around them greedily as your pussy is so responsive. Your juices pooling down to the base of his fingers and dripping down at the palm of his hands and trickling his wrists. Itâs a reason why he loves your pussy so much, so reactive and always soaked.Â
Getoâs hand wraps around his length, using his pre to spread it around as he pumped it a few times. With his free hand, he comes to caress your cheek, pulling your head closer to him as he pets and touches you. Your skin his smooth, feeling the short and soft hairs as you react immediately to his soft touch. You relax in Getoâs hold as his cockâs so close to your face, pumping himself that your eyes flicker from his down to his length and back.Â
âLook at you,â he says, his voice always so smooth that it could talk someone into murder. âSuch a pretty little thing looking to get fucked by another man, one wasnât enough.â
Gojo clears his throat, but Geto scoffs. âDonât ruin the moment. Remember, youâre the one to first suggest it to me.â
That piece of information sparks your attention that Geto notices it. He chuckles, his hand grabbing at your chin and forcing you to look up at him even more. âYeah,â he whispers. âYour boyfriend here wanted to see you get ruined by another man. Heâs just as nasty as you are.â
You clench around Gojoâs fingers, a coil forming in your stomach as you try to look back at your beloved. However, Geto forces you to look at him. âAht aht, look at me, dear. Look at the man thatâs gonna stuff your face full of his cock.â
His tip kisses your bottom lip first, smearing his translucent pre on them before he props to the opening. Your mouth opens, but not enough for it to fit. You look up into his brown eyes, purposely teasing as you lick a small stripe on his tip. He shudders at the sensation, but his voice doesnât falter when he says, âDonât be stubborn. Open up some more.â
âOh, just like you made me wait,â your retort has Gojo chuckling, him moving a few of your braids to whisper in your ear, âOh, be a good girl for Suguru, babe.â
His fingers press deep into your pussy then, having you immediately dropping the act as you mewl and quickly coming to obey your boyfriendâs words. Opening your mouth wider for Geto, the head comes to rest on your tongue as you lull it out. He tsks at your obedience for your boyfriend, finding it cute yet annoying in a circumstance like this. âIf I remember correctly, you were the one to agree to this.â
Then, he shoves his cock inside of you, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag and tear up. Your cry out is muffled as youâre forced to take the whole of him before heâs pulling out completely. âSo, like your boyfriend said,â he pants. âBe a good girl for me, babe.â
Shortly after is the sound of squelching heard, Gojoâs fingers starting to rapidly fuck into your pussy, the impact of his fingers inside of you, creating such a lewd sound in the night. In another hour, the lights will go pitch dark, so the three of you better be done by then unless you all plan on fucking in it. Your juices pour from your pussy, sticky strings forming simultaneously as Geto enters your mouth once more.Â
This time, heâs easier on you, the bottom of his shaft, grazing your tongue as his balls come to hit at your chin when the base hits your lips. He stays there for a moment, adjusting you to him before he feels your mouth closing around him completely. Your face is becoming teary-stained as you momentarily shut them before they flutter back open, the sting not dissipating, however.
You moan around his length, your tongue flattening out against the bottom of his shaft as it comes to swirl around it. You try to focus on his cock while your boyfriend obliterates your pussy with his fingers, bucking your hips into him while doing so in a visceral need. You grind down into him as one hand comes to hold onto Getoâs waist as you slowly begin to bob your head. Geto hisses at the sight before him, looking down on you as he comes to wipe away some of your tears with his thumb.Â
You look so pretty like this. Laid up against your boyfriend whoâs got you weak in the knees as he fucks into your pussy with his digits. Your sweet nectar dripping down onto the bench and floor as you make a mess of yourself and him. How you manage to stay so level headed keeping up the pace of sucking Getoâs cock, breathing in through your nose as you moan out and send vibrations that go straight to his cock. Youâre a dirty little vixen, taking them both like this. It makes the brunette want to cum inside your mouth and your boyfriend wants this to last forever.
His cockâs grown sensitive under the restraints of his pants, pressed into him and rutting like the needy girl that you are. Heâs held himself back for so long that he just canât anymore. His fingers leave you, making you a needy mess as you whine in an attempt to ask for him back. However, heâs lifting you up, pushing you deeper against Getoâs cock and forcing you to take his entire length in your mouth. Still, you behave so well that you continue to suck at it despite it hitting the back of your throat.Â
Gojo pulls down his pants and boxer briefs, letting them pool at his feet in a hurry to have himself completely sheathed inside you. Cock bearing free, the tip is red and angry with need that he doesnât make haste in pulling you down onto him. First, you feel his length against your folds, how heâs grabbing at your hips and bringing you up and down. He glides his length in between your pussy lips, coating it in your juices in preparation before he brings his tip at your entrance, holding his cock to gently push in.
Geto eases himself, pulling you off his cock to watch you adjust to your boyfriend. Watching how your face twists and contorts in pain as you sink down on his length, taking inch by inch. You whimper and pant at the stretch, still holding onto Geto as your nails dig into his skin. When youâre fully sheathed, taking every last bit of Gojo, youâre taking heavy breaths as your boyfriend plants kisses along your neck. âI know, I know,â he whispers into your ears. âYou did so good for me.â
âFeel so full,â you babble out, whining out as Gojoâs hands are at your waist, starting to bob you up and down on his length. Itâs then that Getoâs back inside your mouth, taking control as he knows that youâll now be unable to focus. He grabs a handful of your braids, pulling your mouth onto his cock. Eyes mouth shut as you moan out at both intrusions, you let your body be used for their pleasure. Your body bouncing as both men fuck into you. All that can be heard is their moans against the slapping of skin and your muffled noise. Your hands are digging so much into Getoâs skin that you might draw blood, but he canât find it within himself to care when youâre making him feel so good.Â
âShit,â he curses, eyes shut as his mouth hangs open, hips rutting into your mouth. Saliva begins to drip from the corners as his fingers dig into your scalp, both hands preoccupied in them. Gojoâs lips are on your bare skin as he uses his strength to fuck you onto him, your pussy clenching around him as the slapping of skin sounds the entire locker room. The stench of your pussy fills their air, your smell so potent that Gojo recognizes it within a matter of seconds. It has his chest grumbling out as if heâs a feral animal, burying his nose deep into your skin as he sucks into it.Â
Your pussy clenches and pulsates as you didnât know itâd feel so good to be used like this, thinking that the videos youâve seen of women being railed by two men to be an act. However, Geto and Gojoâs doing such a good job, ten times better than what youâve seen before. Saliva pools heavily in your mouth, escaping it and pouring down your chin as you can barely keep your eyes open. Your mind is filled with everything dirty, not managing to stay focused on a single one as a familiar band reaches you.Â
Your moans become more high-pitched and you start slapping Getoâs side. Gojo curses the signs heavily there. âS-shit,â he stutters as he feels himself twitch inside you, his orgasm approaching him as well. âSheâs gonna cum.â
Geto doesnât say anything, only fucking into your mouth harder and egging on Gojo as his thrusts up into you become brutal. Your sounds become choppy as he brings you into a quick release, your cream coating his cock in a matter of seconds as he continues fucking with a vigor. The tears that Geto wiped away are back as your sensitive folds become overworked as Gojo doesnât stop until heâs relieved himself inside you.Â
His leg tenses up before that sweet cunt of yours is milking him, flexing and contracting as your mouth is full of Getoâs load inside of you. He pants heavily as he watches your body convulse the longer Gojo stays inside you. Itâs as if the three of your bodies were in sync with each other. Gojo emptying himself in you to the brim that his seed starts pushing him out. He drags you off his cock and pulls you back into him further as he can no longer stay upright. He brings you to lay against his back with him and itâs such a sight to behold that Getoâs cock hardens again in a manner of seconds. Your cunt is open and spread, just his for the taking. He canât help himself for falling onto his knees and pushing you open.
Feeling him against both of you, you and Gojo bring your heads up to see Geto right at your cunt. It takes you too long to process, unable to utter a word and only able to cry out when you feel his lips enveloping your labia. Your folds were covered in yours and Gojoâs cum, a delicacy he wanted to try and uncaring for the man that laid claim on your cunt with his seed. Take it as him cleaning you up, a thank you for letting him have you in such a vulnerable way.Â
You jolt in Gojoâs arms, but he holds you tight, his cock hardening once more himself as he watches his best friend eat away at both of your releases. Youâre sensitive, he knows, but fuck is this hot. You thrash in his arms, crying out but never saying no. The only thing Gojo does to soothe you are the sweet kisses and an infinite circle drawn into your skin, telling you that you can take this. Geto doesnât pull away until your cunt is shining and gets rid of the white.
Gojoâs eyes dilate as heâs back to sitting up and caught into the spur of the moment, catching Geto off guard when he says, âlet me have a taste,â before his mouth is on him and he can taste himself and you on his best friendâs lips. You find yourself stuck in between the homoerotic scene shared amongst the two best friends, your body humming back to life that you mewl out. Itâs long before theyâre pulling away, pink tongues dancing against each other as the flavor is embedded into their taste buds.
Heavy panting and breathing as none of you say a word, simply digesting everything that happened. However, the jingle of keys are enough to have you all rejuvenated with energy as the door swings open. The unsuspecting voice calling out as they still see that the lights are on and a few bags thrown down haphazardly. They mustâve been wearing headphones to not hear the raunchy actions taking place prior.Â
âHello,â a voice of a man in his late forties. âIs anyone here?â
( author's note. ) SATOSUGU MY BELOVEDDDD âŒïž
#( đ ) : standalone.#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#geto suguru x reader#satosugu smut#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#satosugu#gojo satoru#geto suguru#geto suguru x you#gojo satoru x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#x reader#x black reader#tw: (n)sfw
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itâs cupid, stupid! | lhs
àšà§ SYNOPSIS -âș To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?
àšà§ PAIR -âș golden boy!heeseung x fem-pres!reader
àšà§ GENRE -âș fluff, pining, hurt/angst, slow burn (oops), bakery au, summer au, post highschool au | àšà§ TROPES -âș (slightly one sided) enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers | àšà§ WC -âș 20k (jfc)
àšà§ INCLUDES -âș CURSING, food mentions, a self indulgent characterization of my grandmother but sheâs also everyone elseâs in this fic, the bakery has foods from like 40 different cultures, both mc and hee get burned but itâs tiny, heeseungâs parents r lowk overachieving assholes this is NOT a reflection of anyone irl, ew so much banter, heeseung and mc drink from the same straw ik thatâs an ick for some LOL, underaged alcohol consumption (and being drunk)âŠsorry
àšà§ REN SAYS... thank u thank u thank u peng aka @jlheon for beta reading this in one sitting for me!!! your comments were so cute i'm so glad you enjoyed reading it <3
plsplsplspls reblog and send feedback/asks if you liked this!
Lee Heeseung might only have eleven characters to his name, but they spelt trouble in forty different ways.Â
It starts with the same old Lee Heeseung spilling his applesauce on you in the first grade, with his cup of mushy lukewarm grossness splattered across your new pants with glittery stars on them. You shriek when it happens, frantically wiping off the mess and yelling at his Lightning McQueen lunchbox with all of the bottled up rage a six year old can have. His eyes are wide, but all his friends laugh and say girls are so angry all the time, so he stops himself from apologizing. Which, you think his friends were being a little rude to all girls alike, but what mattered was that Lee Heeseung never ended up saying sorry.Â
But thatâs just one way of spelling it. He hit you in the face with a ball, ran into you when your knee was scraped and you almost were bursting into tears, and tripped you in the lunch line.Â
Did the universe hate you, or did he?Â
You figured it was the latter.
Heeseungâs been stuck to you your entire life with some extra strong adhesive that you canât seem to get off. You wish you could get some of the same glue that stuck you two to the hip and attach his tongue to the nearest streetlight, but things almost never worked in your favor. If you could catch him, just once, like one of the dumb boys who lick frozen poles in winter, youâd be satisfied.Â
The blackmail would trump any sort of Heeseung related adversity your elementary grade self had to deal with.Â
Unfortunately, the years have rendered you no protection against him, and in the small victories you find yourself in, you also see Heeseung right next to you. The exam you aced was topped by Heeseung with a 98%, just a bit higher than your 96%, and it couldnât even feel good to talk about it because you knew all your friends talked about was how he did the best. Better than you.Â
There was no accomplishment anymore when Heeseung was around.Â
Heeseung was perfect in everyoneâs eyes, a golden boy in their praises and a role model for their parents. If people didnât want to be with Lee Heeseung, people wanted to be Lee Heeseung. That? That was something you hated. How could people want to be someone who you couldnât stand?
Summer is a new slate- a very humid new beginning for you to get away from people at school and hang out with only your closest of friends and to ghost any new message you get. That is, if you choose to. Or, you could have an objectively more âhot girl summerâ where you go to pools and post pictures on social media and talk about strangers on the internet. Unfortunately, none of those things seemed to be a viable option, with your friends in different countries and in cute swimsuits. Your visits to your grandmother had been so pushed back with all of the finals on top of exams and end of the year festivities that it had been a while since you last saw her. Spending time with her this summer was your number one priority- your friends could wait a few weeks to hang out again.Â
You spend your first Saturday at her house making pastries with oddly reminiscent spices and a sprinkle of your childhood within every slice. If thereâs one person you can trust to stay the same, itâs your dear grandma, with her decade old recipes and hard to find ingredients that she sometimes makes you go on a manhunt for. Itâs endearing in a way to know that her cooking will never change, and maybe itâs the reason you make an effort to visit when you can. You love your grandma, and you always have, because sheâs the only true constant in a world thatâs constantly changing.Â
Youâve made a feast by the time the sun barely peeks from the edge of the ground. Youâve measured countless spoons of sauces and powdery substances that all look the same and you're surprised the sauce you burned still tastes good. Sheâs finished setting up the table, and you two can finally dig into your favorite authentic cooking. Even if you see her quite frequently, she doesnât always cook. Sometimes itâs leftovers, sometimes itâs take-out. But today was different.Â
After youâve both finished, your grandma hands you plastic wrapped dishes filled with mere fractions of what you two have made. She tells you to go to the Leeâs down the road, and your eyes narrow slightly. Lee is also the last name of Heeseung. So, what would be the odds it was him?Â
Not likely. Heeseung would think heâs too cool to live in an area like this. His parents are probably minted- and if not loaded, then well off.Â
Well, you were 100% wrong! Lee Heeseung does seem to live here, and you will admit the porcelain figures of calico cats in the dark as shapeless silhouettes were a little frightening at first. Your grandma washed away your previous concerns with a âOf course theyâll be home! Heeseung always answers the door for me.â and pushes you out of the house to deliver the two boxes of leftovers that smell delectable. If you werenât so full, youâd just take a different route and have it for yourself.Â
You can hear the âitâs our neighbor!â And a pair of footsteps tumbling down the carpeted stairs to answer the doorbell.Â
Lee fucking Heeseung in his sock and pajama clad glory. How punchable he looked in this very moment, with his warm brown dyed hair and white t-shirt.Â
âI have leftovers. For your family.â His widened eyes immediately go back to their normal state, and he reaches out to meet your offering halfway.Â
âYou live here?â He asks, in a calm, civil manner that you donât think youâve ever seen with him.Â
âGrandma does- Iâm just her errandâŠrunner.â You respond, in a not so smooth way. You wince internally at how choppy your words come out, but make no further effort to fix it. By now, itâs Heeseung whoâs holding the styrofoam boxes. Your job is done. âDo you live here?âÂ
He nods solemnly, a smile filled with a smidgen of pride dusted across his features. He loves this house- Heeseungâs been in it his entire life, and itâs obvious the memories that have stayed with him since childhood make him far from ashamed to say itâs where heâs grown up all these years. But you? Could you say the same thing about the simple abode you went home to everyday?Â
Maybe not. Another reason why Heeseung had it perfect, and another reason to resent him.Â
You sighed to ease the tension that had condensed between the two of you. His mom wondered what took him so long, and he wondered the same question.Â
Before youâre about to turn away, he blurts, âThanks for the food.â You turn around, nodding a silent âof course,â and walking away.Â
At that very moment, there was no reason to hate Lee Heeseung. But as you walked away and back to your house, you hated the calico cats and the gate you entered through the house he went back inside to.Â
The nostalgic board game high with your grandma does not last for long. As if the universe needed another reason to hate you, the unfortunate truth was that there was always more in store when you were subjected to a bad day, a bad week, or even a case of bad luck. You come back to the mahogany door to terrible news- your grandmother is sick. You rush out of her house the same day with the names of medicinal cures scribbled on a notecard and an urgency in your step. You buy her enough to last for the next few lifetimes, but it doesnât matter. Anything healthy you could find in the fresh food aisle, you put in your cart, and when you came home, she was already up and sweeping the cold floors with a cough threatening to overwhelm her.Â
Sometimes, you wish she didnât overwork herself. You gently coerce her into laying on the couch, taking some of the medicine you got with a cup of warm water to ease her throat. She says nothing and you expect nothing in return for the last minute shopping youâve done, but her eyes hold a sincere thankfulness that you know she will never speak aloud. When sheâs retired to her bed, you finish unpacking the groceries and complete the mental task of chores your grandma wouldâve exerted herself to finish independently. When youâve finished, your hands are dry with soap and cleaning products, and your arms ache from the mopping, but the house is clean, and your grandma is sleeping well in the other room. You turn off the tv with one of her shows and switch off the light, heading back to your room and changing out of your clothes. By the time you crawl into your bed and charge your phone, the moon is the last thing you remember seeing before you fall asleep.
Monday comes unexpectedly, despite time still being on its course. You find yourself flipping through the cookbooks that littered the walls in your grandmotherâs room, and in turn, the absolute urge to busy yourself in her passions manifested in the impulsive decision to work at her bakery.Â
âCould- could I go work in the shop?âÂ
At first, her rejection was through scowls and furrowed eyebrows wondering why someone like you would want to fill their youthful summer days dusting surfaces with flour and kneading doughs instead of living the dream and swimming in turquoise waters. Her second rejection is easier to register. âI already have Hee helping me.â She states plainly, excusing the idea of two people in one room to run her business. Your nose scrunches up, and the temperature of your blood increases tenfold.
âHeeseung,â she clarifies, with almost too much enthusiasm. âHeâs in your grade. Goes to your school, too.â She smiles, brushing a section of hair behind your ear and examining the imperfections on your skin. You frown, the obvious displeasure plastered on your features. Itâs not hard to notice you donât like what she just told you. âYou donât like him?â
âItâs whatever.â You tell her, shrugging away from her gaze and shrinking in on yourself. âI donât care much for him.âÂ
What a lie! âIt seems like you donât like him.â She comments.
Of course you donât like him. Heeseung is stuck up, arrogant, and looks past people like you- people who just arenât as perfect as him. âI mean, why canât I help you? Shouldnât HeeseungâŠ.rest for the summer?âÂ
âItâs fine- heâs helped me out multiple times anyways.â She concludes, closing the book she was reading previously. âI wouldnât mind you coming down to help, Iâm sure 17 year olds like you and Hee can run things by yourself.â You raise an eyebrow at both of your names mentioned, but donât speak out against her.Â
You can run it by yourself, but you wonât, simply because your grandmother seems to have an affinity for some boy you just happen to hate. Plus, if Heeseung messes up, you get all the triple chocolate cake to yourself, so youâll pray on his downfall until then.Â
Wednesday morning is when you head over to the bakery, at a much earlier time than usual. The business doesnât open until at least an hour later, and you spend the time preparing the mixing stands and covering the sweet rolls to be baked in a light sheen of oil. When the sun shines more vibrantly in the morning sky, and the cars honk at the traffic, a ruffled head of hair enters the building, and youâre very worried that you mightâve forgotten to lock the doors. âSorry, weâre closed!â You yell out, but Lee Heeseungâs tuft of tinted hair is already in your vicinity.Â
âThe real question would be why youâre here, Miss _____.â He glances towards you, curiosity glazing his eyes over. You immediately scowl at his slightly teasing tone, one that could feel even condescending if he pushed that boundary just a bit more. Lee Heeseung might objectively be better than you in the eyes of an average high schooler, but frankly, you were just the same, and he had no right to sound that amused when you woke up and came here first. Itâs 8:03am, and you already found just one more reason to hate him.Â
You roll your eyes, knowing that with your back turned to him, he wouldnât notice the obvious displeasure. âI canât help out my grandma?âÂ
Itâs so quiet in the place that you hear him suck on a breath behind you. âSheâs your grandma?âÂ
âDid you not remember when I dropped off the food? Oh right, you probably wouldnât spend your time on something soâŠ,â you pause, racking your brain for a word you think he would use. ââinsignificant.ââÂ
Rustling. He takes a bowl and a carton of eggs. âDonât put words in my mouth. Sorry, itâs just so difficult to believe youâre related to her.â Were you really that detached from your culture, or was Heeseung just mean?Â
Lee Heeseungâs words get right under your skin, and it makes you see red. You frown in his direction, disregarding his words and moving on with your day. âYeah, my grandma is nice, I just donât know why she thinks youâre a saint.â
âShe thinks Iâm a saint?â And you see something for the first time, something thatâs akin to stars in his eyes, and the corner of his lips turn in satisfaction. He doesnât even comment on how youâve let it slip that youâre jealous of their relationship.Â
âMaybe in your dreams.âÂ
âYou just said-âÂ
You feel like two cats about the fight behind a dumpster, before the door jingles, and someone walks into your conversation with Heeseung.Â
âSorry, is the shop not-?â
You rush to the counter before Heeseung does, counting it as a mental victory to take the first order.Â
âIt is! What would you like?â Itâs something else you can tell your grandma when you get home- that youâve been starting off all the work in the bakery, and youâre ânot sure what Heeseung really does.â
The professionalism masks the irritation on his features, and you wouldâve killed to see Lee Heeseungâs frown once more.Â
When the customer is done telling you his order, you make sure he gets everything he needs, fully satisfied before the ring of the door is heard once more during his departure. The corner of your lip turns up into a grin, victorious as you childishly tease your co-worker.Â
âIâm going to do the most around here, and I donât need your pretty face getting in the way of things.âÂ
While he denies the rest, Heeseung doesnât quite ignore what you said about his features.Â
When noon has passed, but the sun still glares down on everyone outside, you work just as hard as the white ceiling fan providing cool air for everyone inside. You work in silence, with a playlist filling the air and adding to the ambience, as you listen to your own music through your headphones. Heeseung works without interacting with you more than what needs to be done, and rarely asks for help. He doesnât let people down; if anything, he exceeds their expectations, but never yours. Itâs been like this since the beginning, and youâre convinced itâs something personal- some wrangle ever since you two learned what cooties were that lasted until now.Â
â____,â He starts, turning to you. You glance at him, waiting for the boy to continue. âCan you make the brown sugar milk tea- itâs on the-âÂ
âI know where it is.â You snip.
Heeseung makes the right choice (in your opinion) to say nothing as you proceed to grab a cup and open the container of boba pearls. After youâve taken a few orders, you move to the back of the bakery to pull the tray of matcha sheet cake onto the counter to cool.Â
âHave you seen the scissors?â Heeseung asks out of nowhere, startling you from the doorway.Â
Reaching for the ones you used to cut the parchment paper with, you hand the pair to him and with a mumbled âthank you,â he makes his leave.
In an odd way, youâre stunned by the silence that follows. A âyou suck, _____!â would be more in character for villainous Lee Heeseung than whatever just happened. But youâre way too occupied with the bakery, and go back to cutting squares in the matcha cake.Â
Itâs the same for the next hour until the rush ends and you get a bit more time to yourselves between orders. Heeseung agrees to wash the dishes and you clean the tables to the sound of your playlist from the speakers.Â
âYou have good music taste.â Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he emerges. He wipes his hand on a white towel and you stare at him, utterly puzzled. Whereâs the malice? Whereâs his snarky comments?
âIâm waiting for you to tell me itâs not as good as yours, or something along those lines.â You deadpan.Â
Heeseung rolls his eyes. âIâm not that mean, I can give a compliment or two when I feel like it.âÂ
âOh, poor Lee Heeseung only has so much room in his heart to compliment people. How thankful should I be that you spend your daily supply of niceness on me?â You snap, cleaning off the tables. Your chest feels light and you donât feel as angry as you did this morning, finding your digs to be more playful that serious
Blame it on the lack of sleep.
âI think you should be bowing down to me and only talking when I tell you to.â He jokes, and when you glance up, thereâs a semblance of a smile on his face. âAnyways, when are you leaving?â
âWhenever you leave.â You tell him, shrugging.Â
âYour grandma said she didnât want you to stay too late but she also wanted me to take you home, and I think sheâd throw a fit if you didnât. You were dropped off this morning, right?â
âIâd die before getting into a car with you, Lee Heeseung.âÂ
âIf I had to get into a car with you, thatâs probably how Iâd die.â He responds lightly. You furrow your eyebrows and rack your brain for some sort of retort that hurts Heeseungâs pride, but nothing comes up.Â
âMy driving skills are very good, Iâll have you know.âÂ
He jabs, âDidnât think you had it in you.â
âHow about, next time you come, you leave with your bumper falling off? Some bad driving, yeah?âÂ
Heeseung could start feeling dizzy if his eyes continue to roll around in his skull. âSure, weâll see what your insurance has to say about that.âÂ
The aroma of vanilla slips through the air, and momentarily distracts you as you make haste to get it from the ringing oven. Unfortunately, your enthusiasm spills over the rim, and when reaching inside, you feel the burn of the sheet cake as you leave it on the iron rack to cool. Heeseung doesnât tear his eyes from the way you jump back, squeezing the tender skin between your fingers as you blow on it in puffs.Â
âAre you okay? Here-â He reaches for your hand, but gentle. âLet me see that.â Heeseung soothes the slight pain with his thumb running over the burn, and his breath cooling it down slowly.Â
âIâm fine.â You tell him, slowly pulling your finger away. His gaze snaps back up at you, and you feel your disdain for him dwindle ever so slightly. Maybe the Heeseung that rushed to make sure you were okay isnât so bad.Â
âRight. Youâll be fine.â And he doesnât know if itâs something he tells himself, or if heâs telling you, when he goes to get some ointment.Â
âA grad party? With Heeseung? Invited?âÂ
You canât see him, but you almost hear Sunooâs pout from the line. âYeah, I donât even know why you two fight anyways.âÂ
You huff, laying back down on your bed after Sunooâs confession made you shoot up in surprise. âHave you seen him? Heâs the most stuck-up annoying person ever.âÂ
Your friend hums. âTo be honest, I donât think you really know him.âÂ
âI know him plenty. And thereâs nothing good about him, like, ever!âÂ
âYou barely even talk to him, ____.â The last week proves differently, but you bite your tongue.
âI talk to him enough!â Youâd defend yourself until the end of the earth. âHeâs justâŠalways around me- not like I even want him to, or heâs always hanging out with my friends, or-â
âOur friends.âÂ
âWell, not really.â You think hard. âTheyâre only friends because you and I are friends, so Iâm friends with Heeseung in a distant obligatory way. And I need to keep it that way by not coming to this party.âÂ
âCome on!â Sunoo whines from the phone, and you laugh at his antics. âItâs a grad party, youâll be too busy talking with everyone else to care anyways.âÂ
âWell, maybe for a bit.âÂ
âWhenâs the next time weâll even be able to see each other anyways? Considering all of this college stuff.âÂ
You break his facade. âWeâre literally going swimming in two weeks from now.â Sunoo laughs. âNo, ____. Swimming is different from eating snacks and playing dumb board games.âÂ
Heâs right, and you admit that itâll be fun for something once last time.Â
Maybe Heeseung wonât even show up.Â
The next day at the bakery, you rush to ask him, almost too eager to know his answer. âAre you going to Sunooâs party?â Please say no please please please-
âOf course. Iâm his friend. You werenât invited, or something?â His tone makes you want to light a fire on his head.Â
âIâm his friend, too. I was the first person he talked to about it, so of course I was invited, and of course Iâm going.â You say it as if the boy in front of you didnât make you single handedly question your attendance last night. You say it like your demeanor never faltered, not even once. You say it like Heeseung had no say in the decision.
Because he definitely didnât.
âIâll see you there, then.â He smiles at you, a glint of evil in his eyes as he gauges your reaction. You return his scheming grin, frosting a slice of cake before walking out and calling the order number. When Heeseung emerges from the paper white curtains, he sees you engrossed in helping a customer pick out a few of the best options for âsomething not so sweet.âÂ
When youâre done, you turn around to take a sip of your iced tea. âReally?â He starts, stirring some milk into a swirling shot of espresso. âThe red bean cake is your definition of not too sweet?â Your ear-to-ear smile falls when you hear the off-handed comment from Heeseung, leaning against the counter with his taro milk tea, with close to no sugar.Â
âIâm sure if they asked you, they wouldâve walked out with a cake that tastes like a sponge.â You retaliate. You do your best not to look so affected, seeing as there were other people in the vicinity. Itâs a bakery, you have to keep up the comforting atmosphere.Â
âI donât really think youâre the best person to offer advice for those kinds of things, unfortunately.â His tone snips at your resolve, and with every passing moment you stare at his lips and listen to his words, the more you wish to sew them together.Â
âSure, and theyâll be satisfied with eating basically paper? Your standards are also a little far-fetched.â You busy yourself with cleaning the cups and bowls from this morning, physically turning away from him.Â
He walks past you and into the kitchen, but not before saying, âIâm sorry one of us has good taste.âÂ
You pray to every being that someone keeps Heeseung from speaking another insufferable word.Â
Sunooâs house is as quaint as you remember, and although you donât find yourself making the resemblance often, it suits him. With one hand occupied with holding a gift, and the other about to press the doorbell, youâre interrupted by an all too familiar voice.Â
âI guess you did show up. Sucks to see my dreams didnât come true.â
âI will throw this at you.â You motion to the neat basket in your hands.
Heeseung sighs dramatically, before continuing in the same feigned tone. âWould be a shame if Sunoo only had one gift from us.âÂ
âHeâd understand.â You turn around to ring the doorbell, and Sunoo emerges, a bright smile on his face. He greets the both of you, and his quick side hug immediately reminds you of why youâre here.Â
You will have a good time. And you wonât let any auburn haired boy ruin that.Â
Despite being close to Sunoo, youâre not as close to the rest of his friends. He keeps his circle small, only with people he spends time with regularly. Which would be good for any other day, but for today, you feel almost like an outsider. Sunooâs group of friends greet you all the same, and shower the boy behind you with affection. When you walk towards the kitchen, you catch some more of your mutual friends, and your nerves slowly ease away. You join their ongoing card game, an observer to it all as they yell in success or defeat.Â
The group of people playing Taboo suddenly doubles as the six of Sunooâs friends decide they want in. With the way you move to the floor, youâre so preoccupied with making sure thereâs enough space for everyone and that all the cards are there, that you donât realize where youâre sitting.Â
Cross legged, on the ground, next to Lee Heeseung.Â
You canât get up, and you weakly protest against the many thoughts telling you that a game of Taboo with Lee Heeseung would get you so heated that everyone would see steam out of your ears by the end of the first round.Â
âYou know how to play?â Yuna starts to thumb through the cards, making sure all of them are placed in the right orientation. While the majority of you guys nod, a few of them shake their heads, and it prompts a quick explanation from Ryujin.Â
âSo, everyone gets a set of cards in a team of 3, and you have to describe it without using the words in the white box below. So for example, if my word is Vanilla, I canât use the words bean, flavor, ice cream, extract, or chocolate.â She shows everyone the example card, and you all nod your heads. âOkay, now we divide into teams!â You tune out the rest of her words as she divides you all into sections based on where youâre sitting, and it leaves you with a twisting feeling.Â
âBlue will be ____, Heeseung, and Jungwon!âÂ
Truly, was luck ever on your side?
You donât have time to ponder just how horrible things are going, because Jungwonâs excitedly pulling you two close into a circle to discuss game plans.Â
âOkay, just skip the cards you canât answer, think about references rather than actual descriptions. Guys, the prize is good, Sunoo told me.â And the need to win anything reignites in your eyes, determination being your main motivation.Â
Jake, Sunghoon, and Yuna go first, and guess four cards correctly. You feel the excitement coursing through the air like electricity, as everyoneâs competitive spirit shows through.Â
Itâs finally your turn, and you volunteer to be the describer, picking up the cards with anticipation. You share a look with Heeseung and Jungwon, praying they share your wave of telepathy.Â
First word- Engine.Â
You scan through the words youâre not allowed to use, Jake watching over as your referee in case you slip up.Â
âOkay, itâs the thing in the-â Youâre about to say car, but you pause, quickly trying to reevaluate your descriptions. The timer looms, and you feel panic settle in. âThe thing that powers theâŠvroom vroom.âÂ
In Jungwonâs head, it clicks. âEngine!â You toss the card, reading the next. Egypt?Â
âItâs a 3D thing, but it has three sides in north Africa.âÂ
âPyramids.â Heeseung answers smoothly.Â
You grin unknowingly. âRight-right, okay. Where is it?â
âEgypt.âÂ
âThis is a Jesus related celebration-â You continue, glancing at the hourglass as the sand slips through.
âEaster!â Jungwon says. âChristmas!âÂ
âThe second one! Itâs one of the little things you⊠put up!âÂ
âStockings!â And you shake your head at Jungwon, goading them to think a bit more and guess. You glance up almost sheepishly, at a loss of words and stumbling over thoughts. Heeseung sighs, leaning back before looking at you again.Â
âOh, donât look at me like that.â You huff, flicking at the card anxiously.Â
âLike what? Like you canât describe a simple word?âÂ
âOh, as if you could-â
âOrnament!â And with that, the timer ends. You glare at Heeseung, hard, and if you were anything like Superman, you really wouldâve burned holes through his skull. Thankfully, with Jungwon was your mediator, you donât say anything snarky back at him, staying silent as the other groups go.Â
The first round tension eases as the night carries on. As Jake and Sunghoon score 7 cards in one round, it prompts you, Heeseung, and Jungwon to come together, a jittery feeling as you sip from a can of soda and pray your brain works in tandem with both of them.Â
Remembering Heeseungâs your describer, you sink in your seat a little, feeling hopelessness consume your mind- but Jungwon doesnât let you sulk as he cheers Heeseung on. âLast round!â He says, a sparkle in his eye. The teams are so close, and despite your team having the lowest points by being the last group to go, you know you can score the 6 points needed to beat Ni-ki, Ryujin, and Sunoo.Â
The hourglass is flipped, and you hold your breath.Â
âNaturally occuring formation,â he says smoothly, glancing at you and Jungwon. âHot stuff.âÂ
It clicks. âVolcano!â Jungwon smiles, feeling victory running through his veins. Heeseungâs lip curls up.Â
âItâs the saying with too many people, âthreeâs a..â He waits for you both to finish the line.Â
âCrowd!â Heeseung and you smile at each other as he continues to rush through the cards, briefly glancing over to the timer.Â
He falters slightly, before lighting up. âWhen youâre excited, youâre on ____ 9.â You finish it quickly, burning holes into the back of his cards before he continues. You have to win.Â
âJungwon, we played this game in 2020 on Discord with the guys!âÂ
âAmong Us.â and you laugh at the references he makes to win.
â____, itâs the 60% thing you like at the bakery.â
Your breath hitches, and you almost forget to answer until you see the way heâs looking at you.Â
âChocolate.â You mumble, and he cracks a grin again, relieved to get it in only four seconds.Â
With the way he looks at the words and furrows his eyes, you worry that the sand will slip through the hourglass completely before he can finish explaining the sixth and final word.Â
Heeseung chooses to deviate from the normal meaning of the words, and chooses to use a different meaning of it in order to not risk using a word on his unavailable list. âWhen something is more spicy than you expect, you say it has a little something to it.âÂ
Your heart is beating wildly, and youâre barely in the same spot as you were when you first started, leaning over and closer to Heeseungâs curly fringe. âKick!â you yell out, and the room explodes in commotion, carefully counting the tallies under every team name. Yeji sighs as she marks down your final tally, and you stand up, all in a group hug before you even realize it. You watch Heeseung, looking up at the way his eyes are closed and his smileâs wide. The adrenaline keeps you jumping with your partners, unaware of how Sunoo observes the carefree way you cling onto his friend, and the supposed bane of your existence. When you two finally stop cheering at your long awaited victory, you shoot Heeseung a glance, noticing how heâs already looking at you with the same gears turning in his head. Although youâve created space, heâs zoned out, and you can tell he hasnât noticed that you two once again make eye contact. It takes a raised eyebrow from you for him to look elsewhere, absentmindedly tonguing the inside of his cheek, feeling almost embarrassed to have been so close.Â
Thereâs a bubbling feeling in your stomach whenever you think about how he remembered- how Lee Heeseung pays attention to the little things. You push it down, because itâs nothing more than what coworkers do for each other. Heâs cordial, as always. Thatâs all it is.
âDidnât seem like you hated Heeseung much.â Sunoo comments, a smile puffing up his cheeks. You roll your eyes, helping him pick up some of the stray trash from the floor after the party is over.Â
âDonât even!â You start, debating if you should throw a Dorito in his face. âItâs just for the games, he was literally insufferable every other minute.âÂ
Sunoo is unfortunately the victim to your back-and-forth, trying for you to see with reason but falling short to your simple petty nature. He fails to see how Heeseung has treated you, but deep down, you see it. You see the occasional stare Heeseung finds himself in with you, the frown on his features or the way he always carries himself as if heâs somehow better than you. Itâs exasperating how easily he surpasses you, and always glances back to make sure you know. The looks he gives you are deceptive, and you basically see his thoughts laid out in front of him before he turns away. You swear to Sunoo that he has it out for you, always trying to boost that inflated ego of his by showing you how much better he is at anything.Â
âHow are you so sure Heeseung just wants to rub it all in your face? Well, wait.â He pauses, tying a trash bag closed. âWhy do you look at him so much that you catch him staring?âÂ
Oh. You think about it, truly emptying your brain to find a proper answer, but deep down, there was none to be found.Â
âI donât know, Sunoo,â you huff. âHe just always looks at me.âÂ
âMaybe he wants to be friends.âÂ
Violently shaking your head, you smash in a water bottle, feeling a flash of confusion pass through you. âWhy would he want to be friends with me? To show heâs such a nice and caring person?â The boy on the receiving end sighs, slumping to the floor in the kitchen. You stare at him, watching how Sunoo deflates before going to wash his hands in the sink. âYouâre insufferable.â He calls out, laughing quietly.Â
A frown makes its way onto your features unknowingly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you truly put yourself in your friendâs shoes.Â
Surely, Sunoo sees what you mean, right? Thereâs just no way Heeseung would want to be friends with you either- itâs not like you treat him any better than he treats you. Plus, Heeseung has had it out for you, always by your side for the best and for the worst times, somehow dampening your mood in both.Â
Right?
After a tight hug from Sunoo and your efforts to lift his mood after a long day, you get in your car, a random song from your playlist coursing through the stuffy air.Â
There is mutual hatred- well, maybe not hatred, but dislike. A definite dislike between you and some part time bakery employee who also happens to be the worst boy youâve ever met.Â
Youâre beginning to think that this feud between you two is a small flame that youâre shoveling piles of wood into, igniting from your own hands.Â
You have no idea how to prove it, though. You canât let yourself look like an idiot by simply being nice to him if he really has it out for you and hates you- or else heâll get some sort of upper hand.Â
Your plan goes like this; Youâll give Lee Heeseung one chance to prove himself as an arrogant and selfish person, and when it happens, itâll be true solid evidence you have to dislike him. Itâll prove that Lee Heeseung hasnât changed one bit, and that you were always right in your beliefs.Â
You trust the universe will help you out one time, and pray for the best.Â
So thatâs why, when your grandmother invites you to join her at the Leeâs once again, you agree, finally getting to try not just the leftovers of Mrs. Leeâs delicious galbi recipe.Â
And thatâs how you're standing in front of his doorstep with a welcome mat under your feet, and a porcelain cat staring up at you from the porch.Â
You hear the commotion that follows your knock, and you're greeted with a warm smile from whom you can only assume is Heeseungâs mother. After she invites you in, you meet the rest of the family, and make sure your grandmother has taken a seat. Heeseung glances at you from the stairs, before wordlessly joining the table, quickly grabbing bowls in the kitchen before coming to sit down. Everyone interacts, and youâre stuck smiling and shaking hands with his father and bowing to his grandmother, asking if thereâs anything you can do to help.Â
When his mother brings the steaming aromatic food over, your eyes light up. âHere, Heeseung, sit next to ____!âÂ
Your smile drops.Â
He takes the empty seat next to you, flashing you a grin. âLong time no see.â You roll your eyes, with the distance between the two of you closer than ever, you lean over to make sure your grandma gets plenty of cabbage kim-chi and warm sauces with her rice, helping her whenever necessary. By the time you sit back down, your bowl already is full of food. You glance over at the culprit.
Heeseung just shrugs when you raise an eyebrow, muttering a thank you before digging in.Â
âI hear youâre planning to attend the same university as Heeseung.â His motherâs words cause your eyes to widen, choking slightly on your bite before you feel someoneâs hand on your back. âYou okay, ____?â And the mirth in his eyes tells you he finds your reaction funny.
You shake your head in earnest, feeling yourself lose even more passion for school. She continues, reaching for some grilled meats with her chopsticks. âItâs exciting, isnât it? You two are basically neighbors, and youâre always super hard working. Maybe Heeseung could learn a thing or two, since I hear so much about how you help out your grandma.â
Youâre pleased to hear she likes you, but it all comes out at once, and her confessions leave you in surprise. You glance over at the boy next to you, hoping to gain some wicked satisfaction from it all, but what you see leaves you with a dejected look. Heeseungâs gaze is steely, and you notice the almost glare his mom sends her son after saying it. He feels small, unlike the confidence that surrounds him after test scores or when he got admitted into his colleges. Something doesnât feel right, and it leaves a sour feeling on your tongue when you try to make yourself bigger than him.Â
âHeeseung has always done well. Iâm sure heâll continue to do well both at the bakery and in school.â You donât mean to disagree with her, but itâs true. You hate to admit it, at least to his face, but Heeseungâs worked just as hard or harder than everyone else. He tilts his head in confusion as to why youâd voice something like that, and you roll your eyes, hoping that he never brings it up again. Â
You continue to talk with his mother, laughing at her comments and going along with whatever she has to say, no matter how traditional her views might be. You thank her profusely for the meal, and she waves you off with a bashful look. âItâs nothing,â she communicates through her laughs and small hug when you two are about to leave.
âSee!â Your grandma says on the walk back, as you carry tupperware of marinated meats and soup. âHee isnât so bad after all.âÂ
âI guess.â You really have nothing else to tell her, not wanting to ruin the delicate moments between you two as the sun casts down a slim glow. âHe didnât really say much.âÂ
His mom, however, made you realize just why Heeseung performs at the standard he does- because he really has no choice but to be the best, or to accept failure in front of his parentsâ eyes. Itâs a corrosive treatment, one that slowly digs away at anyoneâs ability to be passionate about truly anything.Â
She changes the subject. âHowâs the bakery?âÂ
You want to tell her that Heeseung is annoying, that he runs around always telling you to do things, that heâs always too busy covered in flour and coconut cream to help you out. You want to tell her that you hate Heeseung, and that your quality of life decreases whenever heâs around. He messes with you, sends jokes and digs your way, and you donât know how to get him out of there faster.Â
âHeeseungâs fine. I know heâs a big help to you.â And maybe, heâs become a big help to you, too.Â
There is one thing youâre not sure you can perfect- macarons.Â
Theyâre dumb, take so little ingredients yet such precision- and to be honest, do they even taste that good? In your personal opinion, theyâre nothing amazing, and honestly, the scraps of chocolate cake that you donât use for cake pops serves you well.Â
The night before, you and Heeseung both mutually agreed to stay for a bit longer, starting on the macarons so neither of you would mess up tomorrow morning in a rush. Itâs a large order, and you get them relatively often. You try to get tips from your grandmother the night before that, writing them down in your phone and making sure you listen to every piece of advice she says. You write down the last thing in your notes, ominously typed out in bold text. âdonât overdo it.â it reads, and you stay up watching videos on how other people make them look so perfect.Â
Staying late for the shift meant you shifted your routine by a few hours- showering later, eating a bit later, and sleeping less than you shouldâve. You were tired already, but the extra work only added to it, making you feel less and less confident in every piped macaron.Â
The alarm reads 8:00am, a criminally late hour if you want to get to work on time. Sending a quick apologetic text to your coworker, you rush out of the house, driving as carefully as you can to make it there while scraping as much time off as you can. Rushing in, you see Heeseung, leaning over and assessing your yellow batch. If the grid you used was supposed to be a 5 by 11 sheet, then there should be 55 macarons- but you notice, in a few places, there are missing confections.Â
One culprit. âHow childish do you have to be to eat the ones Iâve made?â The immediate accusation has Heeseung looking up at you, straightening his back to narrow his eyes.Â
âSome of your macarons were hollow shelled.âÂ
âWhat, so you go and throw them away without even asking me?â
Heeseung hates how the mood is immediately dampened, finding himself getting more heated around you. âWe literally need 25 of each- only four of yours were hollow- I had to start making another batch because I didnât want to risk mine being hollow, too.â He tries to explain, tapping his fingers on the counter. Your skin feels hot- how dare he mess with the batch you already worked so hard to pipe and fold? If you were to fish out the shells from the trash right now, you would be positive that they werenât even that empty. You grab one of the tools from near the sink, going to inspect his red ones.Â
His attempt to make himself look human is shattered when you notice that none of his, are in fact, hollow like how he presumes they were.Â
âYou didnât even check yours!â You exclaim, feeling targeted.Â
He rolls his eyes. âIt doesnât even matter whoâs batch it was- why do you care so much that I was trying to help you out because you were late today?âÂ
That- that was your reason. Lee Heeseung once again spelt trouble, by meddling in your macarons when you couldâve so easily examined them yourself. He turns around to start washing the utensils in the sink, as you stand there and seethe. Blame it on the sleep, or on the stress of rushing out this morning, but all of it makes you walk out of the building, feeling the hot tears fill your waterline before they spill and cascade down your skin.Â
You worked so hard to make them- and even if they werenât perfect, even if what he had to say was right, you just wished you couldâve seen it for yourself. You havenât worked there much prior to the summer, and macarons have always been something youâve wanted to nail, so to see Heeseung set the standard according to his own feelings and just throw out the ones you wanted to see- well, it hurts. Itâs a jab at your pride, at all the effort youâve put into learning and watching videos, sacrificing sleep to listen to people croak advice after advice on one of the greatest baking feats. It hurts to see once again that youâve failed to be like Heeseung, and that he took matters into his own hands by assessing your tray for you
Fishing out your phone, you look for one contact to offer comfort. âGrandma?â You ask, sinking down to rest your head on your knees without sitting on the cement. Youâre next to your car, not wanting to go through the efforts of finding your keys.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â She asks immediately after hearing your sniffle, and you tell her. You tell her about how your shells were uneven, and how you worked so hard for them, and how Heeseung threw them away before you could even see for yourself. She understands your pain, and tells you that no one can perfect something as difficult as macarons- and that during spring break, she had seen Heeseung go through the same thing. It helps, just a little, to know that he started from the same place as you, too. You calm down with her further reassurance, and wipe your puffy eyes before coming back in. Youâre afraid the patrons will notice somethingâs up, and ignore Heeseungâs worried looks to pat cold water onto your eyelids in hopes of helping them look less red.
He sees all of it- Heeseung Isn't stupid, he knows what heâs done, but he canât get himself to apologize. And as you knew, he went through the same heartbreaking process, and in his thorough reassessment of the situation, he doesnât know why he didnât see it from your perspective until you stormed out.Â
âI'm sorry,â he writes on the bag of lemon curd he made for your macarons. But it does little to salvage your disposition for today. You ignore him, never asking for any help, or any opinion even in the times you usually would. Itâs quiet throughout the whole day, like a gray cloud has dampened the colors in the sky, and you clock out at exactly the right time after everything is done, put away, and cleaned. you refuse to leave a mess for Heeseung to point out, but you leave feeling angry, sad, but mostly, disappointed.Â
The next day, you arrive at the bakery to find Heeseung sipping from a dangerously large cup of instant boba and taro milk. His eyes dart up to witness all of your struggling glory carrying a shipment that came to the house instead of the shop. In a hurry, he grabs a few boxes from the top and sets them down on the counter, and whatever you were carrying follows suit. He treats you as if you didnât fight, as if you two arenât filling the room with tension the more you steal glances at each other. He grabs his drink, one that heâs prepared 15 minutes ago, and finishes almost another quarter of it in one long sip.
You want to tease him for how much taro heâs had when itâs barely 8 oâclock, but itâs not the right time. Days like this are always slow, only dragged out longer by the silence and lack of tasks. The awkward silence between you two fuels him to grab scissors and start opening the boxes.Â
âI thought your grandma mightâve told you I could handle it.â Heeseung comments, refilling the crushed water and oreo toppings. âI was checking the delivery updates pretty often.â
âNot often enough,â you snap. You fight back a glare, and proceed to open up your own box of extracts. âIâm her granddaughter. Maybe you should go enjoy summer with your friends. Donât you have a beach trip to thirst trap at or something?â Itâs meant to be an insult, but Heeseung quietly chuckles, finding it a little funny.Â
âYes, we are having a beach trip soon. But i already told your grandma Iâll work in the morning before your aunt comes to take over.â You frown, wondering why your grandma never reaches out to you and asks you to help.
With emphasis on the syllables in his name, you fire back, âLetâs be clear, Heeseung, she wants my help much more than she needs yours.â He glares, stirring a cup with his eyebrows furrowed and lips curled down in distaste.Â
âIâm sure thatâs why she was so enthusiastic about coming over to our house and talking to me.â Itâs your turn to scowl, and youâre afraid Heeseungâs comments will only take years off your life and produce wrinkles on your face much quicker.Â
âFunnily enough, I heard she didnât want you working there at all.â You cross your arms to look at him as a way to further your point.Â
He responds defensively. âYeah. as if.â Even the way Heeseung rolls his eyes at you is annoying. âShe just wants me around more than you.âÂ
You canât feel offended, especially when his tone is so light. It probably isnât even true- how much your grandmother prefers Lee Heeseung over you, just like anyone else. The feeling burns you and you shrink away from the heat of the sudden fire accompanied by the implications of his words. Heeseung catches on to the sudden shift in your demeanor.Â
âHey, I didnât mean that.â He tries to apologize, watching you carefully.
The flames leave you angry with his response, feeling once again belittled by him. âBullshit. Are you glad youâre the favorite for every single person you know?âÂ
His eyebrows furrow, feeling the bite of your words, and the mood instantly changes. âThatâs not what I meant, ____.âÂ
You roll your eyes. âOf course thatâs not what you meant, Heeseung. Of course youâre the one whoâs perfect, and Iâm simply the one who misinterprets all of it. Of course you have never had a bad intention ever and you are loved by everyone. Why canât you just go? Do you really have to take one more thing away from me and make it your own?â The years of resentment pile up in the words you throw at him, and the built up wall youâve created finally shows just why you should despise him so much. âOr was it not your intention to do that either?âÂ
Itâs too early, to be honest, to be fighting like this, and youâre definitely saying things that youâre going to regret. But youâre tired of being second to him- tired of never getting the recognition you so badly deserved from those who you actually wanted to hear it from. Youâre tired of never being heard by your teachers, getting grades that swoop right under a certain someoneâs. All on purpose. (right?)
Despite the sudden urge to bicker with you about how you think everything is about you, and how youâve never given him a chance, the boy beside you is observant to how hurt you sound being so vulnerable. Heeseung finds himself trying to rethink the past ten years of shared childhood experiences. Heâs never really thought about what heâs done to deserve such resentment from you, but the more he says silent, the more he realizes that heâs always so graciously soaked up praise from everyone, and because of it, you were always left sulking in his shadow.Â
âIâm sorry.â But itâs more than that.Â
You feel stupid for expecting anything deeper. âIs that all you have to-â
He cuts you off, trying to articulate the words and form reason. âNo, thereâs more. God- let me just think.â You hear how badly he needs to get it out, and you stay quiet, having let all of your anger out already.Â
âIâm sorry for hurting you. Iâm not going to apologize for all of the things Iâve achieved,â he says firmly. âBecause thatâs never how things were for me- I have no reason to feel bad about what I did.â And you can respect him for standing his ground in a situation full of misunderstanding. âI never did it to hurt you, and I never did it to get in your face and show I was better. But Iâm sorry for hurting you unintentionally. Iâm sorry I never realized that those things were just as important to you, and Iâm sorry for always assuming the worst when weâd talk. Iâm sorry I never apologized, and held all of this against you, and made this thing between us worse than it was supposed to be. And, Iâm sorry, too, about the macarons. That was stupid. I really shouldâve known.â
You feel overwhelmed, your mind trying to undo the years of built up feelings towards him under the assumption that he meant to do those things. âI thought you did it because you genuinely didnât want to see me happy. Like that time you did the extra credit in biology just so you could score better than me.â You breathe, words coming out without really realizing what youâre saying. âOr like that time in first grade where you spilled your applesauce on me, and never apologized. I kept thinking, what the fuck did I do to deserve it? What had I done to make you feel like we had to compete?â Your open ended questions continue to resonate within your co-workerâs mind, and the more you ramble, the more he sees just how twisted he looks.Â
âIn first grade, that was because the boys said Iâd get cooties if I went to talk to you. Believe me, ____, I tried. But every single time I try to fix things between us, you never let me, I swear.âÂ
Itâs your turn to be confused, swearing that you never saw him apologize. âWhen have you ever tried to be nice to me?âÂ
âI tried to let stuff go. Like all the little things weâd say about each other- I tried to understand why you were always so unhappy around me. But you always said I was meddling in your business or that I just wanted to find another way to get under your skin.âÂ
It settles, then, the realization that youâve turned him into the villain a bit more than you shouldâve. You know thereâs always been mutual dislike- there are certain times where you know Heeseung had it out for you, with his sneers, his comments or the way heâd smile at your defeat- but you werenât a saint either. There were other times that maybe, he wasnât out to get you, but you were always so consumed with the idea of hating Lee Heeseung that you hated the idea of him being a decent person, too.Â
âIâm sorry,â You say, leaving your emotions to witness. âI really shouldâve paid attention to your genuine efforts back then, too.â
And youâre not the only one whoâs at a loss for words this time. Heeseung is in uncharted territory, unsure of how to process the way youâre apologizing, and being so open. And heâs antagonized you too; made you out to be a mood killer and party pooper in every event imaginable, despising the idea of being around you because you two always disagree somehow.Â
âBut, why do you do it? Why do you come here if itâs really anything personal?âÂ
He answers in the only way he sees fit. âI want to help her out, sheâs always cooked for our family, sheâs let me come over a few times, just little things for my family and I. I never meant to take your grandma away from you like that, I promise. Sheâs just so kind, and she cares so much about me, so of course I want to care for her, too. I just didnât think itâd be at the expense of you.â
Despite still feeling hurt, you nod, trying to be mature and talking about it rather than burying it deep. âAll I hear about is how she wants you to come, and how she never needs my help anymore because she has you already volunteering. Itâs like I barely mean anything to her.â Your words sting for Heeseung, but not because thereâs any anger directed at him. Heeseung feels a pang of relatability in his chest, the inability to ever be enough for those around you gnawing away at your self-esteem.Â
He shakes his head, begging you silently to understand. âShe doesnât want you to work so hard.â He starts, running a hand through his hair. âShe tells me about how sheâs worried if youâre eating, or if youâre stressed. Sheâs watched you through-out your whole life, ____. All sheâs ever wanted was for you to finally enjoy the summer you worked so hard for.â
âI just wish it felt that way.â You admit.
To hear such high praise from his lips feels foreign- the idea of Lee Heeseung noticing how hard youâve worked, realizing the amount of effort youâve put into your standing and accomplishments, itâs weird. You know he understands completely how stressful itâs all been, considering he was stuck to your side the whole time in highschool whether you liked it or not. Lee Heeseung has worked hard, if not harder, than you, and for him to be able to admit that is so much different than what your perception of him would think. Itâs awkward to meet his gaze, and his small smile eases the tension a little when you laugh at his attempt to soothe things out.Â
âI feel dumb, for thinking so horribly of you. I honestly never thought you looked at me like I was an equal, just someone you could surpass.â He shakes his head, about to reach out and grab your wrist before he realizes just how intimate it would be.Â
âYouâre not dumb, _____. You never have been. Iâve always looked up to you.âÂ
There are knots in your chest- the ones that make it feel as tight and hard to breathe as you do right now- that slowly become untangled the more he speaks of you. His words undo them, little by little, and even if it takes a long time to fix the rift between you two, at least you know you have help.Â
Internally, your heart begs you to ask. âWhy do you even care?âÂ
He pauses, mulling over his words, and looking for a proper response. âI donât know.â He sighs. âI just want to, weâve been around each other since we were kids, and if there was someone who Iâd hope to have by my side, whether or not weâre close, it was you.âÂ
Your breath hitches at his confession, and your mind runs in a hundred different directions, without ever expecting those words to tumble from his lips. You promise yourself to do things differently from now on, not trusting your words to continue the conversation.Â
âWe should finish unpacking.â And the rest is that.Â
When you two leave to go home, the old tension feels different- lighter, almost. As much as you know he would do things to get on your nerves, never understanding just why you were so negative and brooding around him, your perception of him wasnât the best, either. And still, you may be a bit mad at him, and not exactly friendly, but at least youâve both let go of the unspoken baggage. Â
When you sit in the passenger seat, youâre less inclined to turn away and face the window, and make small talk with the radio on.Â
Things arenât perfect- the years of hurt heâs done to you doesnât dissipate in a day, but itâs getting better, and you can only hope it continues that way.Â
A week passes between the two of you, and time flows easier now that you two talked things out. You donât dread going to work, and you didnât refuse when he offered to buy food on the way home a few days ago. Sure, some topics between you two are sore, and youâre not best of friends, but itâs light years ahead of what it was like before.Â
You can never truly get rid of the banter between you two- there are clever insults youâve crafted in your head that you love to see his reaction to, and youâre just the right person for Heeseung to bicker with.Â
âDo you ever stop drinking that soy milk?â Your coworker asks. You nurse your cup, keeping it close as you rush to defend your end of shift drink. âYouâre like, a baby.â
âItâs lactose free. And a very good basic drink.â You explain, frowning at yet another large cup of taro tea he holds in his hands. âYour drink probably tastes like nothing.âÂ
He holds it out, and you raise an eyebrow. âJust use the same straw,â he insists. You truly donât mind, but itâs so weird now to know that Heeseung, like, your friend. But you take a sip anyways, cringing at how your suspicions were right- Thereâs barely a hint of sweetness in there.Â
âDonât make that face!â He comments when you grimace, and also feels the need to protect his opinion on 15% sweet options.Â
âAnyways,â you change the subject, determined to get him to see your sweet tooth ways. âHelp me make some creme brĂ»lĂ©e for my grandma. Iâve never tried.â And he sets his cup down, and for the first time possibly, Heeseung joins you to do something.Â
âIt should be easy, right?â He says, and with a look of determination, you set off.Â
âHeat the cream.â You tell him, reading the instructions from your phone.Â
He retorts lightly, âSo rude.â and you turn around to scoff, all in good fun.Â
âYouâre insufferable.â And he tilts his head, offering you a small pouty smile when he turns on the stove.Â
The mood feels so much less stuffy than it did before when he says, âMust suck to always hate me like how you do.âÂ
âI have an egg yolk in my hand that iâm willing to throw at you.â He chuckles, and peers over at your bowl.Â
âYouâre pretty good at that.â He notes, and you fight the urge to beam at his compliment for your yolk-separation skills. After heâs poured in enough cream, he grabs the sugar and a measuring spoon, fishing your phone out from beside you and reading the measurements.Â
He adds so much less than what the recipe says, and you only know this because when you glance over, the scale reads a number much lower than 65 grams.Â
âHeeseung,â You call out, in a playfully stern manner, and the boy in question turns around like heâs been caught. âBring back the sugar.âÂ
âWeâve run out.â He says, the lie appearing as a wide smile on his face. Unconvinced, you walk over, and in turn, he holds the jar up out of your reach. You refuse to reach for it, knowing that the boy in front of you is much taller, but also that you donât want to break the glass with some horseplay.
Your voice goes from demanding to reasoning. âGive it back. God, I canât stand you and all of your low sugar preferences. The sugar is literally needed for the texture!â He simply shakes his head, walking over to add just one more unmeasured spoonful. âYou didnât even weigh it.âÂ
Heeseung mocks you- a high-pitched and garbled version that follows the intonation of your words, and you let out a surprised scoff at his immaturity. Getting a whisk, you make sure the newly added sugar is fully dissolved. He returns with the pot of cream that bubbles slowly, with an oven mitt around the hot handle. Without a look in your direction, Heeseung holds out his arm between you and the heated cream, and it really doesnât do much- but yet, at the same time, it does. Itâs something he does subconsciously; and something you do your best not to pay attention to in order to properly reach for the whisk.
He slaps your hand away lightly, and you mumble an âow!â in response. âDonât touch that. Let me whisk it. Itâs hot.â He reprimands gently.
Yeah, youâre still doing your best not to pay attention to it.Â
When the mixture transforms from a deep yellow to a pale banana color, he leans down and checks the side of the bowl for any egg and sugar heâs missed. âHere,â you reach out. âLet me get the pot.â Heeseung glances up, and shakes his head quickly.
âNo itâs okay-â and it happens quickly, the hand that was whisking leaves to swat your hand away, but it instead makes contact with the rim of the metal appliance when he doesnât pay attention to where his hand is placed. Although Heeseung only hisses quietly at the pain, you immediately feel bad.Â
âJust give it to me,â you demand, and pry the pot out of his hand to let him nurse his wound, leaving it in the sink and quickly going to the medicine cabinet for burn relief cream- the same one you used a few weeks ago. After you grab it, you return to him, reaching out your hand and waiting for him to show you the puffy red skin.Â
He slowly puts his hand on your palm, and you twist around his finger to apply the ointment, doing your best to spread it without pressing too hard.Â
âThank you.âÂ
You glare. âDonât hold hot things if youâre not fully attending to them.â And he puts his hands up in surrender, taking a step back.Â
âIâll be preparing your ramekins, boss.â The nickname has a nice ring to it.Â
When itâs done, the creme brĂ»lĂ©e comes out with a slight wobble in the middle, indicating a well-cooked perfection. âGrab the blowtorch!â You shove him into the direction of where it is, and he complies. You sprinkle sugar over five of the six dishes, using a spoon to shape the sugar in the last dish into a heart since you thought it looks cute.Â
Heeseung comes back from your right, leaning over to watch you intently. âA heart? You make it seem like youâre in love, or something.â He jokes, evading a jab with your right elbow.Â
âShut up.âÂ
âYou shut up.â
âYou argue like a-â youâre about to finish your sentence with âchild,â but when you turn your head (in hopes that saying it directly would add more emphasis), youâre face to face with Heeseung, with a proximity between you two thatâs far less than expected.Â
He takes a quick step away, and you glance somewhere else with a nervousness in your eye.Â
Neither of you say anything, not really sure if you should apologize or if he should, and you return to your current task, a small churning turning in your stomach. You take a step back to let him caramelize the sugar, and he holds the blowtorch with his non-burned hand.Â
Itâs good, is the only thing you think when you crack the sugar and scoop a bit, admiring the texture. When you and Heeseung finished one each, you begin to clean up and wash the equipment you used.Â
âItâs late, _____. Iâll take you home.â He states the obvious, and for what?
âHow else am I supposed to get back?â You laugh, and in response, he shrugs.Â
âJust a reminder as to which one of us is so graciously kind to drive you too and from the bakery almost everyday.â
âIf I had a choice, I couldâve easily taken my own car. You know my grandma needs it for her errands. Like her Wednesday bingo night, or whatever.â He chuckles, holding the door open and unlocking the car.Â
Being in the same space as Lee Heeseung isnât as excruciating as how it used to be- and now, itâs just an opportunity for you to finally ask your burning questions.Â
âHeeseung, Iâm just curious. How did you even meet my grandma?âÂ
He furrows his eyebrows. âI think it was the mailbox,â he starts, trying to remember. âShe dropped her mail, and it blew out into the street, so I went to get it for her. And on the walk back, she just started asking me questions. Apparently she and my mom were closer than I thought.â
âAnd thatâs how you started working?âÂ
âFirst, it was community service. Just using the cash register- since weâre cashless, itâs nothing illegal to have me manage orders.â
âAnd she just thought you were an angel from the get-go, or something?âÂ
âWho doesnât?â And you glare, mocking him like what he did to you earlier. Heeseungâs lips curl into a grin at your antics, never taking it to heart.Â
âMe, obviously.â And itâs a half-lie, because secretly, Heeseung isnât so bad.Â
âWell,â he starts, motioning. âI donât think thereâs anything I do or could do that youâd like.âÂ
You splutter, âThatâs not true!â And he raises an eyebrow at your indignant words.Â
âName one thing that you like about me.âÂ
âNo!â You refuse, crossing your arms. âYou already have a large enough ego from the teachers.âÂ
Heeseung rolls his eyes at you, tapping his hands tapping on the wheel impatiently. âThatâs lame, ____. Youâre just further proving my point.âÂ
With a sigh, you tell him, âI like how you helped us win in Taboo.â And he gives you a look.Â
âCop-out.âÂ
âWhat-? No!â Emptying your brain, you try to find something you truly like about the boy who makes life a living hell- or, well, used to (he still kind of does). âOkay, fine. I like that you care about my grandma.âÂ
Heeseung stays kind of quiet, not really sure what to do now that youâre once again being sincere. âWell, sheâs like- the only person who doesnât expect something from me.âÂ
Confusion floods your thoughts. âWhat do you mean?â
âIâm grateful for everyone in my life,â He prefaces. âBut itâs no fun having to always work for peopleâs approval, sometimes, I wish that someone could just appreciate me for me, and thatâs how your grandma is. No expectations with her. Sheâs just happy Iâm still around- which, I know, is bare minimum, but at least I donât have to try so hard for her to like me.â The light turns green, and the car rumbles as he slowly accelerates.
You mull over his confession. âDo I expect something from you then, too?â
âYou expect me to perform well, because I always have- and therefore, I have to do well, or else youâll just rub it in my face.â He states plainly, and you grimace for the second time today.Â
âSorry, I wonât do that anymore.â Heeseung waves you off.Â
âItâs no big deal- plus, you werenât the only one who thought Iâd do well all the time. Itâs something everyone thought of me. If anything, you were the one who just motivated me to always work harder.âÂ
âBut isnât that a good thing? To be the best?âÂ
He shakes his head and when you take a good look at him, Heeseung has a glassy look in his eye. âSometimes, yes. A lot of the time, no. I just want to do well without anyone forcing that on to me. I donât want the expectation to be perfect, because then, itâs so much easier for me to stumble.â You donât realize just how much weight Heeseung carries on his back from the words of his peers and his family. And to you, he resembles a diamond; perfect, but from pressure.Â
âWell, from now on, I wonât expect it from you. And if I do better, then I wonât rub it in your face. So thatâll make two people you wonât have to worry about.â The response he gives you is non-verbal, but his change in expression is first laced with surprise, and then silent appreciation.
âThanks,â he says, once again at a loss for words. âI appreciate it.âÂ
You send Heeseung a smile, understanding how it feels to always have to do good. You can only hope that he gets his break from the pressure before he burns out.Â
âOh, I should tell you now. I canât make it next Friday. I have plans, and Iâd figure Iâd let you know now so you could find someone to replace me.â He announces. When he looks over to see your response, you nod in understanding.
âWhat are you doing?âÂ
âGrad party.â Heeseung says plainly. âItâs Jakeâs, so if Iâm hungover, Iâll try to let you know if Iâll be good by morning.âÂ
âSo considerate.â You comment, albeit a bit teasing. He scoffs, making the final turn before reaching your house. âTo be expected from someone like you.â
âSomeone like me?â He questions. âAnd what kind of person am I?â
âSomeone whoâs going to have to work alone for the next two weeks if he doesnât shut up.â He laughs, his eyes scrunching up as unlocks the car. âThanks for the ride.âÂ
âOf course, ____.â
A few days go by, but one morning, you walk outside to see Heeseung parked in his car, scrolling on his phone- and it takes you walking up to him to roll the window down.Â
âYou didnât even text me you were coming,â you start, pouting slightly.Â
Heeseung pats the passenger side. âJust- get in, will you?â And you comply, never one to refuse a free trip to work.Â
âSo why today?â You ask, fiddling with your fingers and bag. âYou usually never pick me up on Thursdays.â
âSince itâs your grandmaâs birthday and all, I figured I could just pick you up, and drop you off. She called me yesterday asking to come over, and invite my parents, too. And they couldnât come because of a work trip, but I promised her.âÂ
You stay silent. âFuck, thatâs today?â And Heeseung laughs- not at you, just at the situation.Â
He nods, eyes still glued to the road. âHave you decided what you want to get her?â
âFlowers, definitely. Probably these treats sheâs been thinking about getting from the store. I have this really nice collection of kitchen appliances that I know sheâll like.â And youâre rambling, but Heeseung makes no effort to stop you. âShe loves to peel stuff by hand, but I was trying this thing out in the store and it actually works perfectly. Here, Iâll pull it up.â And he takes a quick look at the overpriced appliance, realizing that you also care immensely, but in different ways. âI still need to get her stuff, though- Iâm not sure how Iâm supposed to get to the flower shop if they close when we close.â And it leaves you dejected, since you know what flowers are her favorite, and how happy sheâd be if she saw them on the table for a while.Â
âWeâll figure it out,â Heeseung promises, and you nod, believing his words.Â
You close a bit earlier than usual, and Heeseung writes on a small sticky note for patrons to come tomorrow. The bakery closes at 8:00 PM everyday, and usually 30 minutes canât hurt- or at least, you hope it doesnât.Â
When you continue to anxiously check the clock, he comes to your side, rubbing your shoulder and telling you that â30 minutes is plenty of time.âÂ
âWe have to walk there though, and clean up. Thereâs virtually no parking there ever since that other place opened up nearby.â And he curses, not taking something like that into consideration. While you might be ending earlier, you canât just leave anything out in fear that someoneâs going to try and break in, but you also donât have nearly enough time to properly wash the dishes and wipe down the tables and counters. Instead, you both opt for putting away the large equipment and the food, turning off the lights so anyone who looks in gets the impression itâs closed with the lack of displays or people around. Then, you two can come back to finish organizing and preparing for tomorrow.Â
His reassurance is easy to listen to, and Heeseungâs ability to figure out a plan is comforting in and of itself. Youâre grateful heâs even willing to come with.Â
âYou can just wait in the car, really-âÂ
Heeseung looks at you like youâre mad. âWe talked about this,â he pressed. âItâs dangerous to go out alone. I have nothing to do in the car anyways.â
Finally, you shut off the lights and start dragging Heeseungâs arm, whoâs still taking the key out of the lock as heâs being taken away by your impatience. Setting off in a brisk walk, you continue to check your phone, trying to beat time. Heeseung promises you once more that itâll be okay, and you ask him what he got for your grandma to change the conversation. You both know her well, and your gifts reflect what qualities you care for most. You realize that Heeseung always keeps others in the back of his mind- like his thoughtful gift to Sunoo, with a handwritten card that Sunoo read a bit of to you guys before Heeseung stopped the further embarrassment. You didnât realize it then, but the people in his life feel wanted all the time because he has the love to give them.Â
You get there barely five minutes before 8:00 PM, and the discontent that washes over the shop ownerâs face is apparent. âWeâre closed,â she says, and you canât imagine itâs easy to stay by yourself in a room so stuffy and full of pollen. You walk up to her with Heeseung following behind you, observing the way you practically beg for her to let you find some flowers. You promise you wonât take long, and she sighs, unraveling some of the wrapping paper she knows youâll want.Â
There arenât many left now that the day is over- and you wonder what kind of people frequent the flower shops. Is it apologetic husbands trying to win over their disappointed wives? Is it children buying flowers for their parents and elders? Or is it people like you and Heeseung, who want to gift it to someone they care about?
âCan you trim the thorns?â And she shakes her head, continuing to ring your bouquet up. You feel horrible, understanding exactly how it feels when someone at the bakery asks for something so grandiose near closing, when your social battery has depleted and you donât have any more smiles to give. And you know this, but youâre willing to go above and beyond if the shop owner is okay with it. The effort sheâs put in already to cut the papers and ribbons to accentuate the flowers is already plenty, but itâs your grandma, and you make sure to come back to support her generously again.Â
âPlease,â you exhale, desperation and anger mixing in your tone. âIâll pay extra.â With that, the shop owner sighs, taking your forty dollars and looking up as she opens the cash register. âJust keep it.â You say, in apology for earlier. She doesnât decline the offer, and slides the crumpled bill into the slot with the rest of them, and ties a purple ribbon around the bouquet.Â
You almost forget that he watches the whole ordeal, until the owner of the flower shop mutters a âcouples these daysâ under her breath, and your eyes widen.
With profuse thanks, you grab the neatly wrapped flowers and leave, but the moment you turn the corner, you gawk. âDid you hear what she said?â
âThat weâre a couple?â Heeseung brushes it off like itâs nothing. âYeah. But- what kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasnât the one paying for them?âÂ
Heeseung paying for flowers to give to you- itâs a thought that leaves you quiet as your feet follow the same steps you took to get there. Of course he would- and you wonder if youâd ever want to be on the receiving end of it from him- or, actually, anyone for that matter. Youâre not sure your mind automatically wants such a sweet gesture from Lee Heeseung himself.
âThank you for coming, again.âÂ
âQuit worrying about bothering me,â and itâs like he can read your mind. âBelieve it or not, I donât mind being around you.â His sarcastic comment still holds that undercurrent of honesty, and itâs like he knows just what you need to hear.Â
The walk back is much less stressful than the walk to. It falls back to that simple dynamic between two people who have begun to tolerate each other, full of little insults, hits to the side, and laughing. You finally make it back, and the sun paints the sky with swirling blue and pink. The sunset illuminates Heeseungâs side profile as he unlocks the door again, and when you finally pay attention to his jawline, or the gentle purse of his lips in concentration, you come to the conclusion that Heeseung is more than easy on the eyes.Â
And as you two clean up, the flowers sit in the passenger seat; a symbol of care for your grandmother, and Lee Heeseungâs time well spent with you.
The trips with leftovers become more frequent, and his parents always remember who you are every time you come bearing gifts. â____!â They exclaim, returning the old tupperware with more dishes on top. It feels like at this point, your grandma cooks for them, and they cook for her just as much.Â
âGo bother Heeseung, wonât you? We have dinner in a moment, but heâs been so busy with his work.â You smile at her, curious as to what he even has to do now that schoolâs over. âItâs the room to your left when you go up.âÂ
You knock on his door and he yells in response, telling you to come in. Under the assumption that itâs his family, Heeseung goes wide-eyed when he notices itâs you in his messy room with his pajamas and old t-shirts strewn here and there.Â
âI did not expect it to be you,â he mumbles, quickly getting out of his chair to fix his covers and pick up a sock. A laugh bubbles from your throat with the way heâs scrambling to make things presentable right before you.Â
âDonât worry. I donât think Iâll be staying long anyways. Your mom told me to drag you downstairs because you were too invested in your work.â He looks sheepish as he mumbles a quick apology, and after the quick tidying, he shuts his laptop and organizes his desk. âWhat do you even have to do anyways?âÂ
âIâm just making music- I started this internship with an entertainment company where they let me shadow a producer and offer input on some unreleased songs for their artists- so Iâm just looking at the tracks and making demos.âÂ
âThey let you do that? I figured shadowing wasnât possible for a company so big.â He nods, a smile dusting his features, and you can tell he takes pride in what heâs accomplished.
Youâre about to ask more, but a call of your names from downstairs leaves you two quickly walking down.Â
âHave dinner with us!â His dad tells you, and you want to tell him you already ate a bit, but the noodles look delicious, and you agree to only eat a little bit. You glance over at Heeseung, but he offers a small smile as he pulls out a chair for you.Â
And so it begins again, but just without your grandmother.Â
â____, what are you planning to do in the future?â Heeseungâs dad starts.Â
âIâm planning to study Biology in the fall at uni.â You start. âI had an internship last summer before senior year, and I really learned a lot from it, so I knew what I wanted to do by the time I applied for schools.â His mother praises you, as all Asian mothers do, and you can see why Heeseung is so kind-hearted by the way his parents speak to you.Â
The conversation naturally switches from your plans to Heeseungâs, as they talk about his pursuit in music production.Â
âIâm sure heâs doing a good job, Iâm always in classes with him, and thereâs nothing you need to worry about.â
His mother continues, however. âI mean, thereâs always ways kids can get ahead. I always tell him to apply for things early, and he couldâve gotten more scholarships and finished his internship last summer if he wasnât so behind. But heâs doing it now, so there's nothing we can say about it.â Her words rub you the wrong way immensely. While your own parents were never the most involved in your high school academics and were supportive of any career path you chose, they never placed an expectation on you to do the best and overachieve. But you get the sense that for Heeseung, no matter how supportive they were, it was never really good enough. Itâs torturous.
But, you donât really know how to respond, humming to ease the growing silence instead. âThatâs always true, but I know a lot of people look up to him, including me. Heâs doing great regardless of when he does it.â No matter how gently you put it, you know itâs in total opposition to how they think and feel when it comes to their own son, but you can only hope that it helps ease the tension.
The rest of dinner goes smoothly, with the discussion of your summer and how things have been with friends, parties, and planned trips. You finish their food quickly, complimenting Heeseungâs motherâs cooking once again and watching her face light up.Â
âYou should head home, we donât want your grandma to be too worried.â His dad starts, and you agree, quick to grab your bag. Heeseung takes the containers from your hand and starts putting on his sandals. âIâll walk you home.â Despite your refusal to let him carry your things, he insists, and you miss the way his mom stares fondly at you two from the kitchen island.Â
The warm summer air gives you the illusion that itâs not so late, and with the way light still peaks from the horizon, you feel less tired the later the summer nights get.Â
The boy next to you speaks up first. âDid you mean it?â You sneak a glance at his relaxed posture, a hand in his sweatpants and bangs on his forehead.Â
âWhat part?âÂ
âAny part.âÂ
You nod, feeling almost incredulous that he thought youâd make up something like that after you two agreed to be on good terms.
âOf course, Hee- I wouldnât lie about that stuff, especially not to your parents.âÂ
âIâm sorry about them, by the way.â He reaches up to run a hand through his hair. âThey have high expectations sometimes, Iâm sorry if itâs uncomfortable to hear them talk about me like that so openly.â The first instinct you have is to reach for his shoulder, making eye contact with him and offering a semblance of comfort before you walk across the street.Â
âNo, you donât need to apologize for stuff like that. Iâm sorry your parents hold you to those kinds of expectations.âÂ
âItâs okay, Iâm used to it.âÂ
âBut the problem is, you shouldnât have to be used to it. Youâve genuinely done so much and you deserve some recognition rather than someone always telling you to do better.â
It goes quiet, but you donât choose to bring anything else up, enjoying the crickets chirping and the gentle breeze that carries you home.Â
You stop outside your door and unlock it, inviting him in to say hi to your grandmother.
âThank you,â you tell him as heâs leaving. âFor walking me home.âÂ
Heeseung simply shakes his head. âIt was nothing, really. Thank you for seeing my parents again and whatnot.â He smiles, waving at you before walking back, and a grin makes its way onto your face before you even notice it.Â
Your phone dings at an hour earlier than you expected to get up, and it leaves you in an annoyed mood while you turn off your alarms.
hee: dude you HAVE to come in we just got a huge order for triple chocolate cake they said theyâd pay extra if we finished by today
y/n: help wtf r u doing at the bakeryÂ
hee: i was making brownies i asked ur grandma this morning if i could
y/n: what forâŠ
hee: because i had a craving ??? what else..
y/n: oh LOL ok ill be there in 30
Originally, you and Heeseung were going to have the day off, and your aunt and grandma were going to work instead- but the tempting offer from Heeseung leaves you explaining why you have to come in for work, and that they should stay at home. You say anything that comes to mind, but they know you wouldnât let them come with the way you were dressed and already grabbing your shoes and keys.
When you finally rush to the doors, you see Heeseung cutting into the chocolate treats, and when you two make eye contact, he shoves the piece in his mouth and nods.Â
âGross.â You comment, laughing.Â
He says something intangible, and you shake your head, putting on your apron.
The amount of work you two have put in is simply criminal to be fake, and the day off you have is getting darker the longer you two stay.
You voice your concerns. âDo you think theyâre lying about the tip?What they told you seems like much.âÂ
Heeseung shrugs, and sprinkles sea salt over the piece he picks up. âIâd hope itâs true. They seemed pretty desperate. I called them back today telling them their order would be done soon, so if they show up and pay more, thatâd be great.âÂ
âIâm glad youâre so optimistic.â You laugh.Â
âI have to be, because youâre definitely not.â Heeseung laughs when he sees the scowl on your face.Â
âOh yeah? I think Iâm at least a little better than the time you spilled the tapioca pearls and then talked about how everyone had it out for you that day.â He rolls his eyes.Â
âBetween the two of us, Iâll always hear you saying âfuck, i dropped the spoonâ more.â His teasing has you smiling.Â
âFocus on your lettering. Or do you need someone to hold your hand and help you?â You lean over to look at him spelling CONGRATS with brown icing. âYou messed up.â Nitpicking, you point out a random loop and make fun of him for it despite it not looking bad at all.Â
âI did not!â He huffs defensively. âI want to see you try.â He passes you the bag, and you get a piece of plastic wrap on the counter before starting.Â
âLee Heeseung sucks.â He reads. âDid you seriously write that?â You laugh at how offended he is, and the boy next to you is quick to pull the bag from your hand to start piping. halfway through the word âhate,â you elbow his side, and it causes his letter âtâ to be dragged too far.
âHey!â He runs over, smearing a bit of icing on your forehead before you duck and try to avoid all his other attacks. The laughs bubble from your stomach, the adrenaline causing you two to chase each other around the kitchen. Youâre not even sure what Heeseung would do if he catches you, but you donât want to find out.Â
âI think we should package those cakes!â You remind him, albeit as a distraction. He sighs, crossing his arms in defeat before agreeing and heading back over. You narrowly avoid his glare, a wide smile on your face as you hum in victory. Itâs a bit past closing, and he makes sure to flip the sign, still keeping the light on.Â
The customer rings the phone, telling Heeseung that sheâll be there in a few minutes. By the time youâve boxed all three cakes and cleaned up any edges, she walks in. You ring her up at the counter, and she pulls out her largest bills, telling you to take the change as a gift. You two both thank her immensely, making sure she can carry the cakes out to her car before closing for the night.Â
When Heeseung enters through the front door, immediately you start cheering. âWe just got paid tonight, Hee!âÂ
The boy grins, subtracting the total from the amount she gave, and itâs clear that she was being serious when she said she would pay extra. âI think this calls for celebration.âÂ
You donât really have an excuse to see him outside of work, and the idea of being alone in a non-bakery setting feels scarily new.Â
And youâre about to make up an excuse about how you have to be home (you donât), but your stomach makes a low sound, and it serves as an answer in place of your faltering words.Â
âIâm thinking Korean.â
You donât expect to learn something new about Lee Heeseung, until you see him order two bowls of stir fried ramen despite the restaurant serving much more elegant dishes.Â
âRamen?â A glance at the menu has you reading one of the more expensive meals offered. âYou couldâve had- I donât know, their Honey Garlic Short Ribs.âÂ
He scrunches his nose in disapproval as a testament to how much he adores his instant noodles. âItâs just not the same. We barely have noodles at home, since my mom always insists on making it from scratch or boiling them in those big packages. Never just ramen.â You take a sip of your water, surprised.Â
âYou donât have ramen? God, come over more often, Iâll make you some.â You suggest lightheartedly.Â
He glances over, taking you up on the offer. âWoah- me, in your space?â You send him a glare, looking away and ignoring his laughs.Â
The food comes relatively quickly, and he looks over what youâve gotten to judge it. âIt looks good. Let me have some.â He says, reaching over with his wooden chopsticks.Â
You gasp at his suddenness, quick to refuse and to drag your plate away from him as you pick up a short rib and eat it before he can. The meat tastes wonderfully marinated and tender, and you donât realize that the haphazard way you tried to eat it left some sauce on your mouth. Heeseung glances over with a frown, about to comment on how incredibly stingy you are until he notices thereâs red sauce on your chin, and grabs his tissue.Â
âHere.â He says, tapping you on the shoulder. And silently, he wipes it off, to make sure you wonât have to walk around with people seeing and saying anything.Â
âOh- thanks.â Itâs pathetic the way your throat dries up, and how you force yourself to drink your water and move on. You hear about this only in movies- about male leads you turn to burns and wax poetic about how much they love you. You donât expect it to happen so suddenly.
âIs yours any good?â You ask, averting your gaze. His fried eggs and boiled shrimp sit neatly on his stir fried noodles, the presentation better than you could ever make it at home.Â
With a shrug, he replies, âWeâll see.â He tries some, and you see a satisfied grin on his features.Â
âIs ramen really that good, Hee?â His enthusiastic nods tell you all you need to know as you continue eating, your pile of bones growing ever so slowly. You two make small talk, about his recent beach trip, or about you rafting with your friends. He talks of college- about going away and his fears of growing up. You tell him youâre scared to dorm, since youâve been around your family for so long, and you share each otherâs sentiments about the rapidly approaching adulthood youâll both have to face. Itâs nice like this, not to bicker and to argue and to despise him. Itâs nice to just exist around Lee Heeseung, and you wonder why you havenât done something like this before- sitting next to him and being able to talk freely about the interests and questions you share.Â
You guess that it was just the timing- you were both always so stressed from school, unable to properly sit down to sort out your emotions. And yeah- summer is a new slate, and this year feels just a bit more life-changing than the rest of them.Â
âYou eat so slow.â And you shoot him yet another scowl, picking up some rice.Â
âYou ordered ramen and you eat like youâve been starved for three years.âÂ
âWhatever. Iâll cover the bill?âÂ
Narrowing your eyes, you try to remember if you two had discussed anything about payments before. âNo- I thought we were just going to split the bill.â
He doesnât seem to care too much. âIâll pay for you, since I couldnât have done it without you,â refering to all the baking you did today. Â
Exasperated, you refute his horrible reasoning. âI wouldnât have even found out about her order if you werenât there. Just let me split it.â You reach out expectantly, and he retracts the receipt, clutching it close.Â
âJust pay me back sometime for something else,â and itâs the last thing he says before turning on his heel and leaving you with your agape.Â
When you clean up and join him in the car, the first thing you tell him is that heâs âannoying,â and âso stubborn it hurts.âÂ
Heeseung just laughs at you, telling you itâs nothing special- like heâs used to paying for others. And thinking about how many people come in to ask him for his number or hope for a date, your assumption makes sense- that he does these things for everyone, and youâre not an outlier in any way.Â
When the bakery is one chestnut haired boy short, things are much less interesting.Â
âDonât have too much fun without me.â You joke when Heeseung begins to undo his apron.Â
âYou can come,â He offers with a small yet sincere smile on his face. âI asked, you all know each other anyways.â You feel your heart stir with the way Heeseung keeps you in his thoughts.Â
All you do is refuse his offer. âI have to rewatch my rom-coms.â You wave him off, and within minutes, youâre left alone. The quiet music plays and the bell jingles every so often as patrons come for pick-up orders or drinks. Thankfully it was slow for a Friday, and you werenât rushing around the shop.
Thereâs a girl whoâs around your age who walks in, curious as to whoâs taking her order before making eye contact with you emerging from behind the curtain.Â
âWhereâs the boy you usually work with?â She says, getting a list of what her and her friends wanted. âIâve been meaning to ask for his number.âÂ
You canât lie and say youâre indifferent to her question, but nonetheless, you take her order and give her his phone number saved in his contact. âHeâs not dating anyone, so donât worry.â You tell her, handing over the receipt. She smiles, and your heart tightens a little at the thought of Heeseung. One of you two is well-liked, one out of the two of you is perfect in every way, and it wasnât you.Â
Without any of your usual weekly plans with your friends, the drive home was quiet as you figured out what to do for the weekend. You would feel bad every time your grandma had to take a shift despite her recovering quickly, and despite her being excited to work again. When home, you decide to make dinner, change, clean up around the house, and retreat to your old room. The show you were catching up on until the wee hours of night was interrupted, and a familiar contact flashes on the screen.Â
âHeeseung?â You ask, confused. Itâs 12:00 AM.Â
â____-ie.â The line giggles a bit before you hear some shuffling. âMy head hurts.âÂ
Youâre a bit shocked to hear him like this, but youâre not going to hang up on him and leave him confused. âDid you drink too much?â You ask, trying to choose your words carefully.Â
âYeah,â Heeseung responds, sighing. âI lost a bet, _____. And I lost cup pong, too.â He sounds dejected, like a hurt puppy as he elongates his syllables and pauses between thoughts. âI was going to tell you something.âÂ
âThat you canât come in for work tomorrow? You sound out of it, Heeseung.âÂ
He groans, and more shuffling comes from his side. âYeah, but I canât drive, ____-ie.â You cringe at the nickname, but refuse to say anything about it with the way heâs acting now. âNo one else can take me home, and my parents canât know.â He sounds stressed, and youâre quick to reassure him before he starts crying.Â
âWhere are you?âÂ
âYouâll pick me up?â Heeseung asks, his tone filled with elation.Â
âMaybe. Depends on how I feel in the next 10 minutes.âÂ
âIâll cover your shifts anytime, Iâll drive you home, Iâll buy food for you, Iâll sneak you outâŠâ He continues to ramble about all the favors he could do for you, and you laugh before getting out of bed. Â
âYou better mean it.âÂ
âI want to see you.â You know he just wants to go home, you know he doesnât mean anything else with his words. You know he just wants to sober up and go to sleep.Â
You know itâs nothing more between you two, yet your heart still beats wildly with every minute you drive, the words echoing in your head.Â
âI got you water, and some food- I have no idea if you ate or not.â Is the first thing you tell him when he stumbles out of the house and into your car.Â
Heeseungâs one drowsy blink away from falling asleep, and you have to shake him away to make sure he doesnât fall asleep with a hangover. âHee!â You rush to park on a random sidewalk before unbuckling your seatbelt.Â
You brush back his red hair, pushing his curly bangs away and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He slowly blinks, adjusting to the proximity between you two. You shove a water bottle in his hand before getting a tissue to wipe the light sheen off of his skin.Â
âWhat are you doing, hm?â And his voice, rough with exhaustion, has you quiet for a moment as your skin gets hot.Â
Despite your heart thrumming faster, you force yourself to answer simply. âYouâre going to have a hangover.âÂ
He opens his water, drinking almost a third before he leans back. âMy head still hurts.â He whines, and you have to laugh.Â
âHere,â you suggest, opening the tupperware of fried rice. âEat.âÂ
He refuses, continuing to drink from his water, and you donât have it in you to be annoyed at him. Instead, you grab a spoon. âI canât believe Iâm doing this,â You mumble, starting to break up the fried egg and mix it all together.
After the first bite, âItâs good,â He says simply. âIâm glad I got to see you.âÂ
You feel the incessant pounding in your eardrums and your whole face feels hot. âEat, before you throw up.âÂ
âI missed you.â Despite the harmless intention, you canât stand to let Heeseung sweet-talk you, and it almost frustrates you to know thereâs no weight to his words.
You roll your eyes at him and force him to finish his water. âSober up before you get home.âÂ
In the quiet of the night, in the small neighborhood with everyone asleep, no one would know about the loudness of your chest, about how his eyes still hold his twinkle as he gazes tiredly at you, letting him dote on him.Â
You continue to make sure he drinks and eats, and youâre so engrossed in taking care of him that you donât realize how little the distance is between you. Making eye contact with him leaves you stunned into silence, but Heeseung says nothing to dispel whatâs between you two. He reaches up, his palm cupping your jaw, and you swear, past the alcohol, thereâs the faint fresh scent of the ocean, one that you recognize from being around him so often.Â
You hold your breath, keeping the box in your steady as you wait for what heâs about to do next. He stares in silent question, glancing only to your lips and back up. Itâs like time doesnât even pass anymore, like a moment written in eternity when you brush away some of his hair.
You swear youâre about to kiss Lee Heeseung for the first time in your life.Â
Instead, you cough and duck from his intimate stare, and he pulls away. The heat of his thumb still lingers on your cheek, and the way he looks at you doesnât go unnoticed.Â
âYouâre feeling better, right? Iâll drive you home.âÂ
The wind whips against your window and the streets lay bare as you turn into his neighborhood. Itâs all you can do. You canât be in love, not with Heeseung.Â
Heeseung texts you profusely the next day, apologizing before he leaves the house to see you in person. âiâm sorry if anything happened last night, please let me know if I overstepped a boundary,â and despite his words being through text, your mouth feels like itâs dried up, and that you have no idea what to tell him. You send him something vague about driving yourself, nothing that alludes to how your heart raced and skipped a few beats, and how you still think about the gentle way he caresses your jaw.Â
How are you supposed to pretend things were the same? Like you werenât watching him, like his gaze wasnât with care, and his touches were not electric. How could you pretend that you werenât slowly falling for Lee Heeseung?
âDid I,â He starts as he rushes through the door. âDid I do something wrong?âÂ
Shaking your head, you continue to crush up the cookies in their topping container. âI just donât want to bother you with driving me around anymore.âÂ
âBut youâre not a bother.â Heeseung can barely recall what happened yesterday, and he doesnât know what caused your sudden lack of interest with your texts from the morning. âLook, ____-âÂ
In a desperate attempt to push down your unreturned feelings and return things to how they were, you cut him off. âHeeseung, drop it.âÂ
The day stretches for an eternity, and Heeseung knows somethingâs wrong. As one last chance to fix things before he goes, he speaks up. âPlease, what did I do?âÂ
And you want to oh-so desperately tell him that last night, you were about to kiss, that the distance between you two was so finite and the way he looked at you had your stomach churning with butterflies. That somewhere, you realized just how similar you two were- that Lee Heeseung understood hard work, he paid attention to the little things, he related to and comforted you in the times that you felt like you were never enough. And those are just the handful of reasons why. You never knew just how well you truly knew him until you evaluated the years youâve spent together. Some things you pick up subconsciously; like the way he fidgets or nervously smiles when a girl asks for his number, or the way he always looks back at you when he rejects her advances. Itâs weird how quickly the knots that made your relationship so complicated suddenly untangle. Itâs really just this long windy string that connects you and him, and within the miscommunication, itâs gone awry.Â
You and him are in the same vein, and with how much time you spend with each other, itâd be criminal if you didnât slowly fall for the way he sings along the radio or how he started to open your door. He cares, in all of the minuscule tiny ways that make your heart ache so terribly. âNothing, itâsâŠâ Itâs almost sick how your mind immediately wanders to some stupid scenario where you and Heeseung ended whatever was going on between you two, and you admitted feelings to each other. Heeseung drives you around in his car, Heeseung comes to your house with baked goods he made himself, Heeseungâs eyes glitter when you two get good scores on a test, telling you how happy he is. âItâs just nothing.â You tell him, not really sure what to make of your feelings at all. And while your emotions towards the boy are new and fresh, they're so real- it snowballs fast.
âItâs not nothing if somethingâs changed between us.â He reasons, a look in his eye begging you to explain.Â
âIt should be nothing, Heeseung. Weâve never gotten along, so whatâs the difference now?â The words leave a burn on your tongue, and you hate the way Heeseung looks away for a moment before he agrees.Â
âRight.â He says, monotone and lifeless. âWhy bother?âÂ
And youâre angry with yourself for the way you nod, taking your things. You want to scream in his face that youâve begun to tolerate Lee Heeseung, in more ways than one. You donât just tolerate him- you appreciate him, you care for him, you want him to be yours.Â
âOkay- Hee, wait.â You falter in your decisions, your heartstrings pulling you in an enchanting way towards him- against all rational. âIâm sorry.â You canât let a good thing go, you canât risk never talking to him again, simply because you donât know what itâs like to live life without him. You see him in every memory, in every class photo, and you canât bear to be the reason you two stop talking- all because you were too scared to speak your mind.
He turns around, waiting for you to continue, crossing his arms as he proceeds to lean against the counter. If you were honest with yourself, youâd admit that Lee Heeseung is one of the most attractive people youâve met.Â
âDo you mean it?â You ask, feeling foolish. He should be asking you that- after what youâve just told him.
Heeseung takes a step closer, his gaze on the ground as he nears the cash register, slowly closing the distance between you two.
âDo you mean it?â He asks, his voice small. Thereâs still space between you two, and it feels like oceans apart. And you soak up his words for consideration, truly questioning if you did.Â
âNo, Heeseung-â You stare at the blinds, looking around the space only to realize just how secluded you two were- that no one outside of the bakery would know just what loops and hurdles you two had been through to get here. âI could never. I shouldnât have said it.âÂ
âIs it true, then? That we get along, now?â His slow steps finally leave the crunching of his shoes in front of you, and you nod your head. And after he sees your confirmation, he continues. âHow do you feel about me, ____?â
Your surprised gaze meets his, and you see the small smile on his lips, and the almost playful look in his eye indicating that heâs not really hurt anymore.
âI hate you, Lee Heeseung.â You say, emboldened by his teasing. âI hated you for spilling all of that applesauce on me when we were eight, I hate how you get along with everyone, I hate how you act like youâre better than me.â You pause, to think of more, but his hand reaches up to cup your chin, pointing up to make sure youâre looking at him.Â
âI hate all that humming you do at work,â you start, your voice small, feeling shy now that heâs forced to make eye contact (which is extremely attractive and turns your legs into jelly). âOr your piping skills, or how good your macarons taste compared to mine.â
Heeseung is so dangerously close, like how you were just last night. âWhat else?â He goads you on, wanting to hear just how much more you have left.Â
âI hate everything about you,â You barely murmur above a whisper with him being so close to you. âBut Iâd hate it if you didnât return my feelings, either.âÂ
He smiles, finally hearing you admit the very things thatâs been plaguing your relationship with the idea of more.Â
âAnything more to add?âÂ
You scoff, reaching up and tangling your hands in his hair. The last thing that reaches Lee Heeseungâs ears are the words, âYouâre so annoying,â before you crash your lips into his.Â
Your kiss with Heeseung satisfies a longing thatâs lasted for a while- to know what it felt like to be so close to him, to kiss his rosy lips just once. Itâs tantalizing- the way you canât pull away, and the way he doesnât let you with how his hand rests on your lower back to pull you closer. When your hold on his hair loosens slightly, he gingerly lets you lean back. Your forehead comes to rest with his as you open your eyes, letting out a slow breath as you think about the ghost of his kiss on your lips. Heâs hesitant to separate from you completely, and rests his hand on your waist instead.Â
You smile, biting your lip so you donât giggle like an excited girl whoâs just told her friends about a measly interaction with her crush. Your heart feels like a floating balloon, and your lips stretch into a grin, prompting Heeseung to smile at you, too.Â
An idiot. Thatâs what you both look like. But when Lee Heeseung presses a small kiss on your forehead and intertwines your fingers, you couldnât care less.Â
âHeeseung, stop piping heart macarons, itâs embarrassing.â He rolls his eyes at you and adjusts the piping bag with red macaron batter inside.Â
He mimics you childishly, and you want to scoop the lemon curd to plop on his head. âStop piping heart macarons, yeah, okay, so why do I see you eating them?â
âI donât. Iâd never.â Youâre lying, and you both know that, but Heeseung entertains your false narrative a bit more.Â
âIâll have you know, the lady at the law firm a few blocks down came here earlier and ordered some of them.â He retorts. You stick your tongue out at him and continue to mix the drink youâve been preparing.
âWhat does she want them for, hm? I can imagine sheâs in the season of love in July.â He laughs at your childish comment, continuing to pipe out almost identical hearts onto the baking sheet.Â
âMaybe she loves her partner so much and wants to shower them in affection.â He grins, alluding to your relationship. You want to flick him across the forehead, rolling your eyes and walking over after finishing your drink for a to-go order.Â
With an elbow on the counter, you watch him from the side as he diligently fills in the heart outlines. âYouâve always liked my macarons, though.â He reminds you. âRemember? You said it when we k-â
âCan you shut up about that?â You cut him off, feeling embarrassed. âIt was like- a month ago.âÂ
Itâs your exasperation that fuels him to tease you further. âIt was a good kiss, was it n-â
You bump his shoulder, and he messes up one of the macarons, pausing before looking up at you. âHey!â He whines, frowning. âThese are supposed to be for that lawyer, remember?âÂ
You roll your eyes, and you know when Heeseung lies through his teeth. âYeah, yeah,â You mutter, using a clean finger to wipe at the edge to make it look nice once more. You play along with his lie. âAnd we definitely fell in love because of cupid.âÂ
my baby is done!! as always pleaseeeeee let me know what you think!! even if it is just 'hdefhjfhds' that means the world to me!!!
reblogs are appreciated!! reblogs w comments are da best and asks !! let me know what you think NO JUDGEMENT!
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The Serving Suitor .â
Ëâ⧠đČ â§âË â
⥠AU Pairing: servant!Logan Howlett/princess!Reader
⥠Word Count: 4.4k
⥠Rating: Mature (only bc of the discussion of sex)
⥠Warning/Tags: regency attitudes, suggestive language, but nothing explicit
⥠Summary: As a princess, you could almost have it all, especially if you wed. Almost. You could only find love with one of your servants, Logan.
⥠Note: this was just a cute thing I've vaguely been working on to avoid all my responsibilities of life (that's why I've posted two days in a row, i fear)
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow you will find a suitor after all these years.Â
Word of your ball had spread throughout many kingdoms. Your father promised only the best for you. He promised music, food, and you for the suitors traveling far distances. Suitors had visited and promised to be in attendance tomorrow. Not a single one interested you; you were sure most of them werenât even interested in you. Being titled and unmarried was uncommon for even men at a certain point; a proper heir would need to be born eventually. God forbid it was out of wedlock.Â
Many came off snobbish and egotistical. They werenât there for you; they were there to create a new heir to their throne. They had little interest in you; they had more interest in your birthing hips. Some came off as genuine and kind. Yet, you felt bored in their presence, longing to slip into conversation with another. You wanted more; you already had more.Â
James Logan Howlett.
Only you called him Logan. He worked as a servant like his father and mother before him. He was one of the younger servants and aid; he was older but not much older than the suitors coming for your hand. He was always gruff around the edges yet respectful. He was by far one of the most hardworking of your servants.Â
A number of years ago, it was your goal to break his serious demeanor, get him to laugh. You had only seen him smile a few times, yet the memories were imprinted among you. In order to capture more memories of that smile, youâd make snide remarks that only the two of you heard. He wouldnât admonish you nor remind you of your place as a princess as most would. Heâd just shoot you a knowing look or exhale a deep huff.
It took him a whole year before he made a snide remark back while at your eldest sisterâs betrothal ball. After watching a gentleman miss every turn and take almost every opportunity to step on your feet during a waltz, you immediately retreated to a place against the wall. Not far from Loganâs earshot but to yourself, you grumbled how thatâd probably have to be your last dance for the night.
Not missing a beat, Logan mentioned the man having the graces and footwork of an overgrown frog.Â
It was a small victory then. Snide remarks turned into short conversations. Those turned into deeper conversations in your garden under the cover of night. When no one was looking, he treated you like a real personâ like a friend, maybe more than a friend. Youâd both spend long nights talking about your dreams and fears in the garden, always hoping you could steal a little more time.
But the night he kissed you was unforgettable.Â
âAlright, but youâre not a princess,â Logan stated as you both laid in the grass, gazing at the stars. âWhat would you be?â He turned his head to meet your gaze.
You hummed looking into his hazel eyes. There was something about Logan tonight. Maybe it was his exposed arms or the sound of his voice when tired from the day. All you knew was that when he looked at you, you could feel your heart race. You almost forgot to answer the question.Â
âUmm, probably a baker.â Logan gruffly chuckled. You felt a little self-conscious by your own answer now.Â
âWhat? A life as a baker soâŠnice and quaint,â you smiled. âYour mother would make the best bread, and if she could have taught me how she did it, Iâd have the bakery in the countryside.â
âNo, no, I agree. When my mother would bake, sheâd make me help sometimes. My father would do a tasting. Something about the kneading was always relaxing,â he muttered. âMaybe once youâve grown wearisome of being a royal, we can just open a bakery in town.â
We. The sentiment of doing it together made your pulse pick up.
âWhy donât you do it then?â
âWhat? Build and open a bakery?â Your nod was met with Loganâs furrowed brows. âI donât know. This workâthis castleâitâs all Iâve ever known.. I was trained to do this since I was a kid. To leave would beâŠI mean, my mother left recipe cards for bread, cakes, cookies, butââ
You sat up and nodded, âI think it'd be worth it to be brave. As someone who doesnât get many choices in lifeâI didnât even get to decide on my outfit for today or the meals I ateâthereâs something about the freedom to be brave. And the number of building projects youâve completed for my family, I know the shop would be beautiful.â
Logan sat up too and nodded. He bit his lip and muttered under his breath, âBe brave.â You felt Loganâs hand on top of yours.
There went your heart again. You looked down at his worn hand on top of your softer one and then back at Logan. His features softened before his other hand moved to your cheek.Â
You swallowed with anticipation, hoping to push down your nerves, âLoganâŠwhat are you doing?â
He didnât respond. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours. You felt your breath hitch in your throat out of surprise, but you soon reciprocated. You had dreamed of this for years ever since you first saw him all those years ago. Your lips formed together perfectly and moved in perfect rhythm. Loganâs hand caressed your cheek, bringing you in closer. You instinctively moved your hand to his bicep, feeling every ridge and groove. In this moment, you wanted him to devour you.Â
Logan wanted the same. There had been other women Logan had been withâsubstitutions reallyâand with God as his witness, you were the sweetest one. You were the only one that he wanted.
He pulled away from you with his eyes still on yours. Your stare was dazed when Loganâs eyes met yours again. âYou said to be brave. And I know your the princess and Iâm jusââ
A small smile creeped your lips, âHey, Lo?â The sound of your sweet yet low voice silenced him immediately. He could mutter a word, only nodded. You tugged at his shirt, lining your finger against what you could already feel as a strong chest, âI think you should be brave again.â
That was two years ago. It was your first kiss. It was the first time you felt truly special in the eyes of any man. It wasnât the last either. Logan made sure of that.
After that day, beyond your royal life, your life became filled with stolen kisses, long nights, letters under your pillow. It wasnât something you expected from the gruff man that you saw everyday.Â
But when word of your ball started to spread, you could see Logan become distant. Conversations were short in public, the letters stopped, he stopped visiting at night, and there was even talk about him joining the military.Â
You were worried. Your mind had been racing for a number of nights. You didnât want to believe that Logan was abandoning you. On the other hand, neither of you were native to your present situation. The thought of him leaving tore your heart apart. Your memories with him put the pieces back together again. The cycle found you every night.
Maybe you could see tonight, but his quarters were outside the grounds. You couldnât make it there without being seen. Maybeâ
A small pebble knocked your window, catching you from your thoughts.
His usual sign.
You quietly moved off your bed to open the window.
âLogan?â Your voice was uncertain as you scanned. Once you saw the form that you recognized to be Loganâs, you couldnât help the smile that grew on your face. âI thought youâd never come back.â
Logan appeared to be slightly panicked as he looked around the garden. âI know tomorrow is...the day and I might not see you againâ he sighed. âCan we talk?â
As he had done for the last two years, Logan scaled the outer wall and climbed through your window. He had on a cloth top that exposed his strong arms, and you could practically see his bulging thighs through his pants. You were just in a white nightgown as you were just preparing for bed, but the sight of him was almost enough to make your mouth dry.Â
You were quick to pull him into a hug; the warmth of his body consumed you. Thinking heâd never get the chance to hold you like this, Logan pulled you in close. âI thought Iâd never see you up here again,â you muttered into his chest. Logan could hear the hurt in your voice. It was amplified by the simple notion that he had pushed you away.Â
âI know,â he muttered into the crook of your neck. You leaned back to look at him. His eyes obviously were panged with grief and regret.Â
âThen why?â Your words ranged in his head like a thousand church bells. All this time, he knew why. He regretted the reasoning, he still knew.
âWhen I heard about your ball a while ago, everything felt like it was coming to a head,â he admitted as he took a seat across from you on an ottoman. You sat on your bed. âI donât know what I expected to happen after the last two years, and I should have seen this coming. I shouldnât have neglected youâŠI never wanted you to feel neglected.â
âLoganââ
âSweetheart, we both know whatâs gonna happen tomorrow. Youâre going to find a prince, become the perfect queen one day, and receive everything you deserve. Things we both know I canâtâwill never be able toâoffer you. Like my parents who served yours, I serve you; thatâs the way it is. We both know that,â Logan tried telling you. His eyes were sullen and he looked defeated. Thatâs what broke your heart.
Logan was right. He was right but he was also wrong about one thing.Â
âLoganâŠâ you placed your hands in his, rubbing your thumb across his, âMy days with you, the mere minutes I got to spend with you everyday, was all I ever needed. You gave me everything I could possibly want. This place, these things,â you gestured to the room around you, âitâs not enough to make me happy; Logan, you were always enough.â
As much as it pained him, Logan kept his eyes on you. For all he knew, these could be his final chance to memorize the curve of your face, how your eyes gleamed when the light hit it just right, or recognizing attributes you considered imperfections that Logan simply couldnât fathom why you thought of them so negatively. He didnât want this moment to pass, no matter how painful it was.
You both sat there in silence for a bit, too scared to admit what this all meant. Logan was the first one to make movement, standing from the ottoman. You could tell that he was stressed. For a second, your heart fell when you thought he was going to leave. Your name graced his lips as he turned back to you, his hazel eyes glassed over.
âI love you,â Logan admitted. Your eyes widened at his confession. âI am hopelessly, desperately in love with you. When I wake up, Iâm disappointed that youâre not by my side, but I find solace in the fact that youâll grace me with your presence, maybe even give me the time of day after dark. Being with you, not even just intimately, just talking to you, is always the highlight of my day. I go to sleep, and I only dream of youârunning away with you, watching you learn how to bake in that shop you always speak of,â he breathed in a single breath; you werenât sure you caught it all, but every noise of the palace seemed to fall into the distance. âIâd never ask you to renounce your status as a princess, but I could let another day go by without letting you know.â
You felt your breath hitch in your throat. As the date of your ball began coming up, you could only dream about Logan, reliving the moments you had in the garden, especially Loganâs sweet words as his hands roamed your body, searching for new ways to make you gasp and smile. As of lately, you were having the same dreams. What if you ran away with Logan? What if he could put his hat in the race to be your suitor? Questions like these flood your head every night.Â
You stood up too, slowly approaching Logan. He was hesitant when you placed your hand on his chest, hoping you werenât kicking him out. Instead, you just wanted to feel him and his beating heart. He placed his hand over yours.
âEveryday, every single day, I wish to move to the countryside with you. Share a life with you. Have a few children, and build a life,â you whispered, smiling at the thought. The tears that brimmed your eyes were threatening to escape. âBut I canât abandon my country, Logan. As much as I want to be with you, I canât and that tears me apart every waking moment of the day because I love you, James. I donât want to marry anyone else because no man has ever cared about me the way that you do. Itâs not fair,â you sobbed in his chest. âI donât want to lose you.â
Logan couldnât help but to wrap his arms around you, pulling you in closer. He kissed your forehead wishing he could change the trajectories of both of your lives. But this was the best he could do at the moment.
âHey, hey,â he muttered, lifting your chin to meet your tear-stained face, âyouâre never gonna lose me, sweetheart.â
Before another thought could cross your mind, you brought your lips to Loganâs for what may be the last time. You became fully enveloped in the kiss when Logan reciprocated it fully. What started as a gentle kiss became desperate in nature. Youâve never shared a kiss like this before. His strong hands spread across your back, sending chills down your spine.Â
You tugged at the roots of his hair, receiving a moan from the servant. He moved from your lips down to your neck, careful not to leave any marks for your big day tomorrow. The gasp that left your lips was heavenly. Logan searched for it again with every kiss from your collarbone to your pulse. You couldnât help but to pants as Loganâs lips and tongue danced across your neck.
âPlease, Logan,â you quietly moaned out, âIâŠI want you to have me.âÂ
While you didnât quite know what that exactly entailed, yet you knew the significance. Your mother had only vaguely explained it to you a few weeks ago. There were many moments where you felt rather needy between your legs when you were with or thought about Logan. You pieced that those two things were related in some way. You affirmed that it was for your husbandâa man that you loved. At this point, those two criteria felt like they wouldn't encapsulate the same person.
Logan momentarily stopped and sighed in the crook of your neck. It was bad enough that he had ruined you time and time again already. This was something else completely. âIâm notâŠitâs not my place, sweetheart. As much as I would love to ravish your body until dawn, Iâm not your husband, youâre not my wife; itâs not right.â
Logan wasnât always big on traditions and doing things the right way. He complained a number of times to you about them. Youâd figure that it wouldnât be Loganâs first time; he had the opportunity to live a life outside of you. You vaguely heard how your brother spoke about women thatâŠthey werenât necessarily courting yet frequently visited. It made you want to scream the way he became traditional all of the sudden.
âI knowâŠâ You felt your stomach grow into knots, trying to verbalize concepts you only recently began thinking about. âI knowâŠyouâve been entangled with other womenâŠâ You couldnât help but blush and feel native in the moment.
Logan huffed as you were being more brash than usual, âThey werenât ladies, and most certainly not princesses.â
âYouâre right, but I donât care anymore, Logan,â you told him, fingers lining his chest. âNot only isnât there another man I want to be with but there isnât a man who deserves the privilege besides you, my love.â Your hand caressed his scruffy face, praying for the answer you desperately wanted. âI love you.â
âSweetheart,â You began lining his neck with soft kisses making Logan lose his train of thought. With your hands on his chest and lips on his neck, Logan wanted to cave, he desperately wanted to give in and have his way with you. âDammit, youâre making this hard, love.â
âThen say yes.â Your hand went under Loganâs cloth shirt, feeling the ridges of his abdominal muscles. âPlease just say yes.â
A pang of hurt hit Loganâs heart, stopping your hands from roaming his chest. âYouâre not mine to have.â Logan could see the pain in your eyes and immediately felt awful. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you; that wasnât his intention when he climbed through your window that night. âMaybe I should go. Iâm sorry.â
Your eyes widened as you saw Logan begin to leave. You felt panic settle in. Logan was already in the window about to climb down.
âLogan!â you almost yelled but you were quick to hush your volume. He immediately turned back to you with his brow furrowed. His name came out of your mouth before you could even realize what you were saying. âPlease donât go,â you choked out, âPlease.â
He wanted nothing more than to take you with him, show you exactly how well he could treat you.
âIâll see you at the ball tomorrow.â
âItâs been a pleasure speaking with you, sirâ you forced a smile before performing a small curtsey.Â
âIâm sure, princess,â the duke retorted before kissing the back of your hand. âI hope to grace your presence again soon. â
You nodded before the Duke of Goldigo went on his way. Internally, you gagged. The Duke of Goldigo was ignorant and a narcissist. Yet, he wasnât the worst of the night, and that was saying a lot.Â
Whenever you finished talking to a suitor, you would immediately look for Logan. Your eyes would quickly scan the room, hoping to still see him there serving. You missed him a few times but caught him talking and giving o'dourves to a few guests from time to time. You desperately wanted to talk to him, but you knew you would get wrapped up in conversation with him as you did on a daily basis in the garden. And you knew the both of you would get in trouble if you both werenât on your jobsâyour job being to wed.Â
But maybe grabbing an o'dourves wouldnât hurt, right? Of course, it would be Logan holding your favorite. Itâs like he knew you could eventually bring yourself over. You began your trek over to Logan who was just across the ballroom, and damn, he looked amazing in that white button up.
You happily nodded at the guest as you walked past other guests. A couple of the suitors you talked to earlier smirked or winked at you, some vying for your attention, but you pretended as if you didnât see them. As you neared him, Logan looked up and saw your eyes meet his. He gave you a soft smile.
âI didnât know they would be serving bruschetta at this event,â you smiled as you grabbed a piece.
âOnly the best for the princess,â Logan smiled, but you could tell that it wasnât fully heartfelt. You could imagine that he was still hurt after yesterday. You were still hurt too, but putting together a good appearance is something you were used to doing for these types of events.Â
âHow are you, Logan?â you muttered, attempting to keep your conversation low key.
He took a deep breath and sighed, âHonestly?â You nodded. âI wish I could take you out onto the floor and dance with you like a proper gentleman, actually vie for your handâŠbut I guess holding your favorite o'dourve will have to do. How about you?â
You slightly smiled and nodded, âWishing I could be anything but a princess right now.âÂ
All you wanted was to take Loganâs hand and run out of the dance hallâshow him how much you want to be with him. Logan wanted that too, and if he had the money and power the other men in this room held, he would have. He wouldâve whisked you away, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you were alone.
âThe fair and beautiful, princess,â another prince almost growled as he took your hand. You immediately felt uneasy; it was also obvious to Logan. Instead of giving the prince the face of disgust, you softly smiled. âCare for a dance?â
You looked back at Logan who looked like he was trying to keep his composure. You placed your appetizer back on his tray. âIt would be my pleasure.â
He led you to the middle of the floor, but you couldnât help but to look back at Logan as he went away to cater to the guests, his heart breaking in the process.
The evening was ending and many of the guests began their departures, even you had retired to your chambers. There were some suitors there, talking with your father. As Logan helped clean up the hall, he overheard conversation between the men and your father. He hated the way they talked about you. They didnât care if you were happy or not. Even your father seemed to be neglecting your happiness. They pondered if you were submissive, had a good body to bear sons, and so on.Â
They talked about you as if you were a piece of cattle at auction. In reality, you were everything to Logan. His entire world began and ended with you.
Heâd had enough.
Logan left his section to clean before heading down the hallway. He attempted to maintain his composure as he passed by maids in the hallway. But he was making a beeline to your chambers. He could feel his adrenaline ramping up as he got closer to your room. His heart could practically beat out of his chest. He finally reached your door. He took a deep breath before putting hand on the handle.
Before he could turn the handle, he heard a brief huff and then a sob.
You were crying.
Logan didnât even knock. He cracked the door open and saw your body leaned against the window, your hands covering your face. You were already out of your ballgown and in a simple slip. He quickly slipped in before anyone saw. You didnât hear the door close between the sounds of your sobs. He hated seeing you like this. He knew heâd do anything to make you feel better.
âSweetheart?â Logan sighed from across the room. You heard him, but you couldnât bring yourself to turn to him. He approached you from behind, wrapping your arms around you. âIâm here.â
You shook your head, âLoganâŠI canâtâŠâ you hiccuped. He turned you around to see your face. Your eyes were puffy and red, but you were still a beautiful sight to him. âWe canât keep doing this, seeing each other. It only makes this harder.â
âI know, I know, so if you want, I wonât come to you like this anymore. I justââ Logan's voice drifted, yet he still appeared focused. He had firm hands on your hips while you laid your hands over his. âI know I said I couldnât ask you to do this, and I know you love our country, but I need you, sweetheart. I canât live knowing youâre married to some pompous rake who doesnât even respect you as the woman you are.â
You took a deep breath as your eyes widened, âLogan, what are youââ Before you could even finish your sentence, he was taking a knee. âJamesâŠâ
âI know Iâm asking a lot of you. Iâm asking for you to live a humble lifeâa life without the riches and spoils you no doubt deserve with a man who has only served you all his life. But Iâll be damned if a day goes by that you donât feel loved, respected, and cared for. And I wanna spend the rest of my life making sure you feel that way.â Logan pulled out a necklace from his pocket and showed it to you. âThis betrothal necklace belonged to my mother the day my father proposed. I was going to ask you last night, but you respect your duty, and I respect that. But after seeing and hearing how those men think of you, the thought of someone taking your handâsomeone who does not see you the way I doâI have to at least ask.â
You didnât even think you could produce more tears, but you felt more brimming. However, they were warm from hope, not hot from sadness.
âSo, ask me, James, you whispered as you fell to your knees to meet his eyeline. âPleaseâŠâ
Your full title fell from his mouth with an ease. Just sitting on the floor in your chambers out of the watchful eyes of othersâit was the most comfortable you felt all night. You hung onto every word. âWill you do me the honors of living a humble life as my wife?â
âYes, yes, Logan, yes.â Your words got stuck in your chest, but your confidence grew as you continued to speak. You quickly nodded and huffed, âOnly if we can leave tonight.â
âAnything you want, sweetheart,â Logan wildly smiled as he wrapped the necklace around your neck. You pulled him into a kiss that was more passionate than the one from yesterday. You felt your heart warm, and for the first time all day, you felt comfort, warmth, love. You prepared to leave. You left notes for your siblings and parents, praying theyâd understand.
You were going to miss your life; it was an easy one. Yet, a life without Logan would have been much harder.
⥠note: i love hearing y'all's thoughts
#logan howlett#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x reader#hugh jackman#x men#x men fic#logan howlett fic#britt fics#logan smut#wolverine x reader#the wolverine#wolverine smut#wolverine x female reader#logan howlett x mutant reader#logan howlett au#au#logan au
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rating: explicit
member: heeseung
premise: forced to marry a dictator king of a nearby kingdom, you're advised to shut up and take whatever king heeseung gives you and give him everything you have in return. in truth, you'd rather kill yourself than be married to this monster, but he has a way of changing people's minds
notes: fem!reader, dom!heeseung, royalty au, very slight angst, marriage of convenience/forced marriage, hate-ish sex, breeding, mentions of impregnation, use of pet names, unprotected sex, strangers to sort-of-lovers, mentions and descriptions of death and injury, lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: sixth and final entry for my 1k follower special! this is the end for my two-month 1k event! i'm so thankful for the love this received and i'm excited to start my new series/anthology! i can't wait to write your other requests as well and bring you more stories you can enjoy!
it's making your stomach churn.
the way your father looks at you right now, as if he's sorry but not really. apologetic only because shouting in delight would hardly seem appropriate at a time like this.
you can practically see the sparkle in the East king's eyes.
"the decree says so," your father says with a sigh like he regrets to inform you of such news. you bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from flinging the pewter cup filled with wine in front of you at him.
"the decree can say one thing but we can do exactly the opposite of it," you challenge, balling your fists in your lap. your father turns to you sharply.
"and then what, my love?" your father coos condescendingly. "race to see which one of our heads rolls off the gallows first when the new king of the West chops them off?"
you stare at your father, clad in his deep velvet garb, the lines on his forehead pronounced in the flickering firelight in his solar. you feel your whole face stiffen as you stare back at the spitting image of yourself, the exact source of the flame raging within you. you love your father and you know him. know him enough that it's no use arguing with him now. he would fling whatever words you had right back at you with double the force.
"you're lucky he didn't snatch you in the dead of night once he proclaimed victory," your father presses on. "you're lucky he's being diplomatic about it, issuing decrees so that all the four kingdoms are bonded legally to his whims."
"it hardly feels lucky being the sole maiden of royal blood fit enough to wed him," you spit back, turning away.
you hear your father lets out a breath and you can feel him walk away towards the large window that adorns the north side of his solar. you watch as he gazes out the glass panes, his back to you.
"he's a strapping young man, a talented general as he's proven, and truly the royal seed of his father before him," your father says, something unfamiliar in his voice. he turns back to you and you see, for the first time, the fear in his eyes.
"he turned on his own father, just as his father did with his father, took over that poor dead man's kingdom, and waged a war against his neighbors."
your father's voice trembles now.
"refusal would not only mean death, my rose," your father points out quietly, slipping in the endearment he so often used with you since you were a child.
"he would make sure you wished you were dead," he warns.
you swallow, letting his words sink in.
you think back on the past year, the months of hiding, the weeks spent banged up in the highest tower of your castle, the days of weeping as you waited for your father to come back, the minutes of terror as you were told the West king had emerged triumphant.
the second you saw your father, the Almighty Blessed King of the East, staggering through the palace gates, bloodied and broken.
that wretched tyrant from the West almost took your father away from you. giving yourself to him willingly hardly seems like the right move. but not doing so would mean a fate worse than death.
"is he really that terrible?" you ask, almost in a whisper.
your father walks up to where you're seated at his dining table. he reaches down and takes your hands in his calloused, war-scarred ones.
"i couldn't give you an answer to that if i tried," he explains. "i surrendered before i could get the chance to meet him."
"then how are you so ready to give away your only daughter, your only reminder of the woman you loved?" you implore, looking desperately into your father's eyes.
he shakes his head.
"this is how i want to remember you before you're whisked away into that cruel man's arms," your father says tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"feisty, with the zeal only your mother could pass on to you."
your eyes sting with tears at hearing your father mention his late queen.
your own mother feels like someone from a dream to you. she was there one moment and gone the next. much like yourself.
you let yourself cry silently, rising to let your father hold you in his arms.
---
the trip from the East to the West typically took a little over two weeks if no hiccups are encountered along the way. but you realized, merely two days in, that this whole marriage was cursed from the beginning.
it's as if the whole world conspired against this union, and you would have been grateful for it, but after days of running into problems (thieves and hunters and sudden thunderstorms and a pack of wild boars), the only thing you wanted was to be sheltered inside a warm castle room with a cup of spiced wine on your bedside.
so unbridled was your happiness when you heard a sudden shout from outside your carriage announcing your arrival at the gates of the West Kingdom castle. your two ladies-in-waiting riding with you had equally relieved faces, your hands immediately reaching out to grasp theirs.
"we're here, your grace," the younger of the two, yuna, whispers excitedly.
olivia, the older and more cynical one, swats at yuna's arm.
"don't sound so happy," olivia berates. "this is a dictator's castle we're entering."
yuna shrinks back in her seat and you reach over to clasp her hand reassuringly.
"i'm the only one fit enough to marry him," you remind. "he should know better than to lay a single finger on me."
olivia eyes you worriedly while yuna nods in agreement.
"i'll be alright," you say. whether it's to them or to yourself, you're not entirely sure.
the entirety of your royal party comes to a halt after what you felt was an hour's worth of treading on a steep incline and only then do you allow yourself to peek through the curtains of your carriage.
you gasp as you see the fog all around. you're aware that the West was the mountainous region of the four kingdoms but seeing the clouds form beneath the castle grounds made your stomach twist uncomfortably.
"let's hope he doesn't throw me down the ravine," you mutter quietly. olivia and yuna exchange looks before giggling quietly.
you alight from your carriage a few more minutes later, the sudden light nearly blinding you. the sun is covered in dark clouds but the lack of any greenery to shield your field of view has you squinting to see in front of you.
"good morrow, your grace," a voice greets. you turn and see a smartly-dressed man approach, bowing deeply. he's adorned in the West king's court colors and it's then you notice the pin affixed on his chest.
"i'm lord jake, the royal chamberlain," he adds, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your skin. he straightens up and gestures behind him.
your eyes follow where he's pointing and you see a grand staircase leading up to the heavy wooden doors at the entrance to the castle.
"let me assist you to the throne room," jake offers, holding out his arm to you. you take it, fixing a firm grip on his bicep.
"the king is waiting," he adds.
---
you let yourself be pulled through the towering hallways, resisting the urge to gape at the lavishly adorned walls. portraits of Western monarchs, legendary shields and swords owned by said monarchs, heavy purple drapery. jake seems to understand, walking at a pace that hardly indicates that you're in any rush.
you turn behind you to see olivia and yuna following dutifully, your other ladies and servants following close behind, flanked by guards both from your party and from the West King's.
you turn back ahead of you, catching sight of the heavy doors to what you can only guess is the throne room.
"if i may speak freely, your grace." jake turns to you slightly. you return his gaze and nod.
"of course," you say.
"you need not be nervous," jake reassures. "i know of the tales you might have heard about our king. but i've been a companion of his since we were boys. he does not hurt those who are not deserving to be hurt."
you remain silent for a few seconds as you continue to approach the throne room. after a while, you respond to jake.
"i appreciate the words of comfort, my lord," you begin. "but what indication do you have that i'm nervous?"
jake smiles warmly at you just as you reach the doors.
"you've been squeezing my arm since you've arrived, your grace," jake points out.
a pause. your face breaks out into a smile and jake mirrors your expression, both of you allowing yourselves a moment to laugh.
the guards by the throne room doors heave them open and you stand, stiff but adorning your face with a look of resolve. jake pulls his arm away and steps in front of you. just as the doors fully open, jake bows to the throne and then to you.
"my most revered King of the West, this is Princess _________ of the East and her royal household," jake announces in a booming voice that startles you slightly.
"princess," jake continues, turning to you once more.
"i present to you, the Most Royal King of the West, King Heeseung,."
---
everything was a blur after that.
you do, however, remember the silver shock of hair atop the king's head. the deep purple of his doublet. the tight black breeches and black boots laced up around his ankles.
you could see King Heeseung's lips remain unmoving as you curtsied deeply in front of him. you remember the feeling of fear, humiliation, and embarrassment at having to bow in front of a cruel tyrant.
you remember the hint of a smile grace his mouth as you straighten up. you remember the sweat gathering on your palms.
you remember muffled words being exchanged between the king and jake. you couldn't make out what they were saying with the blood rushing in your ears. you remember curtsying one more time before jake takes your hand and leads you and your people out of the throne room.
now, hours later, seated in front of a mirror in an airy room somewhere on the north wing of the castle, you remember to breathe, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"your grace, are you alright?" olivia asks from behind you, her hand pausing mid-brush as she gathers your hair in her other hand.
you meet her eyes through the mirror and nod.
"yes," you answer. "just a little...tired."
"i would assume so," yuna speaks up from the other side of the room, her slender figure bent over the numerous chests containing your belongings.
"i asked and it turns out we traveled close to a month," yuna rambles. "a month! who takes a month to get from the East to the West?"
you smile at yuna's shrill voice, a comfort from the eerie silence that seems to surround the castle.
"how are you two liking it here so far?" you ask, addressing your two ladies. a palpable pause comes over the room as you wait for their response.
"it's...alright," olivia begins. "better than i expected. i pictured brutes and barbarians to litter the halls but that's a misjudgment on my part, your grace."
"everyone seems kind enough," yuna chimes in. "the king barely said a word so i'm not sure how to feel about him yet."
"better to hold your tongue when speaking of the King of the West, child," you lightly berate. "we don't know who's listening."
olivia and yuna both nod in understanding.
a knock from the door to your room interrupts your discussion.
"come in," you call out. you turn to see another one of your ladies poke their head in before straightening up and bowing.
"your grace," jen, a sprightly lady-in-waiting of yours addresses you.
"i've been informed that the king asks for your presence in his study," jen relays, hands folded in front of her.
time seems to stop as you hear these words. you feel olivia grip your shoulder and you hear a clatter of something as yuna drops it. jen avoids your eyes as the four of you soak in her words.
"well," you say after a moment. "i better make haste, then.
you meet olivia's eyes through the mirror once more and she smiles encouragingly.
---
you ask jen to accompany you this time to give olivia and yuna time for their own personal needs. jen readily agreed, not more than five paces behind you as you make your way to where you were told the king's study is.
the castle is bathed in late afternoon light, a gentle breeze fluttering through the hallways. hardly any noise can be heard save for the occasional footsteps of servants and soft chatter from some of the rooms. your heart hammering against your chest is the only thing that fills your ears constantly.
"this is it, right?" you turn to ask jen. she nods as you two stop in front of an intricately carved door with a heavy golden stag knocker.
"you may take your leave," you tell jen.
"your grace?" jen asks, voice meek. "should i not wait for you out here?"
you shake your head. "i have a feeling neither of us knows how long the king will keep me in there."
jen opens her mouth as if to say something more but she stops, sighing. she nods and bows to you before starting down the hallway.
you turn away from jen's disappearing form, hand grasping at the stag knocker. you pound the heavy metal against the door three times before stepping back, waiting to be let in.
"enter," comes a voice from inside.
you swallow, reaching for the door handle. you give it a turn, the door easily swinging inward. you step through the gap, pressing your lips in a thin line as you anticipate what you might see.
the study is a respectable size, with bookcases adorning nearly every wall. a fireplace crackles with flames at the far left end of the room and a large desk rests in the middle of it all.
hunched over a stack of parchment is King Heeseung himself, a quill twirling lazily between his fingers.
your eyes meet and the king straightens in his seat.
"your graceâ"
you pause, having both said the same thing at the same time. to your surprise, King Heeseung offers a smile. not knowing what else to do, you force an uneasy smile back.
"sit with me, my lady," he says, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you gather your skirts and perch yourself at the very edge of the seat.
no one speaks for what feels like an eternity. the king has paused in his perusing of the parchment in front of him and you've busied yourself with staring at your hands resting on your lap.
"there will be a welcome banquet tonight," King Heeseung's voice cuts through the silence.
"to celebrate your arrival," he continues.
you dip your head low.
"you have my gratitude, your grace," you say mechanically.
King Heeseung clears his throat. "i also arranged for the wedding feast to take place a week from now."
you allow yourself to gaze upon the King of the West, your eyebrows pinching together.
the king sees your expression and pauses.
"but if you wish to either hasten or push back the ceremony, then i'll take it into consideration," King Heeseung hurriedly adds, his sharp eyes rounding into a softer form.
you realize that sitting here, eye level with the king, that he's merely a man like any other. a man who smiles and startles and laughs.
your mind flashes back to your father's beaten and bruised face. your expression falls.
"no, your grace. a week from now is fine," you concede.
a long stretch of silence follows. you avert your eyes to the window to your right, gazing at the vibrant sky painted in the colors of the sunset.
"heeseung," comes the king's voice. you turn to him, a questioning look on your face.
"you can call me heeseung," he clarifies.
your face must have been of utter confusion because the king smiles again.
"we are to be wed, are we not? i would assume that you'd prefer a much more relaxed method of addressing each other." heeseung leans back in his plush seat, awaiting a response.
"of course," you agree. "and you may address me however you wish."
"my betrothed."
the two words roll smoothly off heeseung's tongue and a strange tug pulls at your chest. you nod silently as if to grant permission.
heeseung clears his throat again, pushing himself off his chair. you rise as well but you make no move to look at his face.
you see from the corner of your eye his hand reaching out to you.
"come. the banquet should be starting soon."
you shakily place your hand in his and he gently wraps his fingers around yours.
"after you, my dear betrothed," he says, motioning towards the door.
---
it turns out, a week flies by extremely fast.
you've managed to meet all of the people of importance in heeseung's court in that time, memorizing names and faces and feasting with a number of them.
heeseung hovers around, greeting you as you go about your day but ultimately keeping his distance. you wonder if you should be doing more to prepare for your wedding but you don't dare question any of heeseung's or his council's plans.
in a blink of an eye, the week is over and you're standing in the throne room, draped in your finest garments, practically glittering from head to toe with the jewelry you've brought from home.
heeseung stands tall and regal beside you, his hair perfectly done and his royal regalia adorning his broad frame. strangely enough, his face is what you anchor on for most of the ceremonyâa blur of vows and prayers and oaths and finally, a restrained brush of lips to make things official.
the feast may as well have not happened with how blurry your memory of it is. you sat at the high table, watching the festivities but not really seeing anything.
that is, until a particular loud courtier knocks over a chair, bringing down plates and utensils as collateral damage in his drunken state. the noise jars you for a moment but heeseung lays a warm hand on yours to steady you.
and now, sitting on the edge of your bed, stripped down to your undergarments by your reluctant ladies, you shiver at the thought of what your wedding night may bring.
you've heard stories from your ladies and you've been taught enough by the tutors you've had over the years. but to lay with a man such as heeseung, it chills you down to the bone. would he hurt you? would he demand things from you? perhaps kill you?
you shake your head. it would do no good for him to kill you now. you're both in dire need of heirs for your respective domains, him especially now that he's deposited himself as the supreme ruler of all the kingdoms in your land. and even without taking children into consideration, would he really drive in his image as a tyrant? slaying his wife on their wedding night?
your thoughts are dissolved when you hear a knock come from the door. a second later, heeseung walks in, his cape and gloves amiss, and so are the tightly-laced hunting boots, leaving him in his doublet and breeches, wool boots covering his feet.
he almost looks...nervous.
"my bâ"
heeseung pauses, taking in a sharp breath.
"my wife."
your head spins as heeseung says these words. you can physically feel the color draining from your face. when heeseung says it like that, it makes it more real, your fate looming over you like an impregnable fortress caging you in.
"yes, your grace?" you respond, trying to sound composed amidst your anxiety.
heeseung studies you for a second before sighing. he tugs his boots off, undoing his doublet right after. he shrugs the garment off, leaving him bare from the waist up. you gasp softly, abruptly turning away.
"you need not address me like that, remember?" heeseung reminds, trudging carefully before coming to a stop in front of you.
he reaches a hand out, attempting to hold a side of your face but you flinch, your whole body lurching at the feeling of his skin against yours.
your heart pounds as you quickly realize the fault in what you just did. you peer up at heeseung, eyes shaking with fear.
you expected anger, annoyance, or even confusion.
but all you see is a pair of despondent eyes looking down at you.
"why are you afraid? why do you fear me?" heeseung asks, voice quiet, defeated.
your insides churn as you try to find the right words. in a moment, the whole ordeal comes crashing down on you, the day's events flashing in your mind, a reminder that this is your life now. you're married to a dictator for the rest of your days.
"shouldn't i be?" you reply, voice stony. "i'd be a fool to not be scared of someone who murdered their own father and waged a war against the entire world."
heeseung remains silent. he heaves a sigh, turning away from you.
"it seems as if it was a mistake to ask for your hand in marriage," heeseung says.
a flicker sparks inside you.
"you didn't ask!" you cry out, voice accusatory. you stand, pulling yourself to your full height. this outrage has sprung from nowhere, seized you fully, summoning all the anger within you.
"you commanded me here, you took me away from my family, my home! i came all the way here to marry an evil man and he suddenly decides that marrying me was a mistake?"
"i gave up everything i had to fulfill a duty i was called to, that you called me to," you continue, placing yourself right in front of heeseung.
"i need you to prove to me that all this is worth it. that i did not come here to be some poor slave to a tyrant! show me and prove me wrong that you're not just some monster that nearly killed my father!"
you feel the air knocked out of you as a pair of lips press against your own. you cry out in surprise but something snaps within you, the final branch needed to let the fire catch and spread.
heeseung is kissing you and you're kissing him, your hands clawing at any part of him you could reach. his own fingers tug at your chemise, pulling it down your shoulders until it slips off your body completely.
"you're sick, forcing yourself on your wife like this," you pant against heeseung's mouth. he undoes his breeches, letting them fall.
"my wife is free to leave if she pleases," heeseung retaliates, kicking off the last of his clothes.
both of you are stark naked now.
you stand there, breathing heavily as you look into each other's eyes.
"your wife will not leave until you've bedded her and put an heir in her womb," you seethe. "that's all she came here for, after all."
heeseung grunts lowly, attacking your lips once more. he shoves you down on the bed, caging you in easily with his firm body. he runs his hands up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling at every piece of flesh he can dig his fingers into. you moan and squirm under his touch, an ache growing between your legs.
"you'll give me as many heirs as i wish," heeseung says as he kisses his way down to your neck. he suckles on a spot just beneath your jaw and the sound of defiance that you originally wanted to let out is caught in your throat.
"of course, so they can usurp you when it's your time," you say through your teeth.
heeseung says nothing, only looks at you, his face pulled down in an angry frown.
"listen here, darling," heeseung commands, voice dipping even lower. he pulls you by your thighs to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs open.
he glances down and you stare at his face as it turns into a look of intrigue, his eyes transfixed on your core.
you're soaking wet, clenching around nothing as your husband continues to survey what's between your legs. he looks back up at you, a hand reaching over to grasp your jaw in one large hand.
"my father was a madman and so was his father before him," heeseung begins and you feel something prod at your entrance. you gasp as half of him is pushed in with a single swivel of heeseung's hips.
"maybe i'll turn out to be one too, but right now, all i did was clean up the mess he made," heeseung continues, fully burying himself inside you. your legs tremble at the painful stretch and all you want is to hide your face away in the sheets but heeseung's firm grip on your face won't let you.
"he started this war," heeseung says accusingly. he draws back, allowing you momentary relief before thrusting back in, a half cry, half moan escaping you.
"yeah, my sweet?" heeseung pauses to address you momentarily, his eyes dark and evidently hungry.
"feel good?"
he doesn't wait for an answer as he lets go of your face in favor of holding your hips tightly between his hands. heeseung sets up a ruthless pace, mouth hanging open as he watches himself slide in and out of you.
you grit your teeth and refuse to look away yourself, gazing upon the face of what might be another in a line of mad kings. your husband, half of who you are now, half of what your children will be.
the thought sickens you to your stomach.
but the delicious fill of his cock deep in you has you quivering with want, breathless with desire. if this is how good it feels to fuck a mad king, then maybe you are the perfect maiden to wed him.
well, not so much a maiden now that he's buried in you to the hilt, one of his hands grabbing at your breast.
his words 'he started this war' echo in your brain, but a shift of heeseung's hips has your eyes rolling back in your head, that thought forgotten momentarily.
"come on my sweet, look at me," heeseung pleads gently. he leans down, nearly flattening his form over your own. he continues to fuck you, thursts shallow in this new position
you hook your own arms around heeseung's neck, meeting his eyes.
"you don't fear me, do you?" heeseung asks laboriously through heavy breaths. "you never did."
you withhold an answer, leaning in to press your lips roughly against heeseung's instead. he growls low in his chest, his hips moving even faster than they already were.
you keep your mouths together, tongues lapping over every expanse of each other. a shiver runs through you as you feel the friction against your core increase, turning rougher and rougher as heeseung seems to lose himself in you.
you pull away, running your fingers through the hair on the back of heeseung's head. you tighten your grip on the strands and heeseung hisses.
"no," you finally answer. "i'm not scared of you so fuck me like you mean it."
the world seems to give out from all around you as the last words escape you, your hips pinned down painfully against the bed. your legs quiver as you feel heeseung pound into you, faster, rougher, harder. you let a sob rip out of you, your whole body seizing as your release slams down on you.
heeseung looks at you and only you, eyes wide and ravenous.
you clench around heeseung and he collapses over you, hands braced on either side of your head, his face scrunched up in pleasure as you feel him throb deep in you. you feel his thick seed warm up your walls and you gasp softly, your body finally relaxing.
you lay there, weak and unmoving, as heeseung pulls out and rolls off you. he comes to rest on one side of you, his hair tickling your shoulder. without another word, heeseung pushes himself up and retrieves his discarded breeches off the floor.
your heart sinks as you think that he's about to leave. your throat tightens, the thought of being used just like that, despite being his wife, his queen, repulsing you so badly.
but heeseung doesn't walk out the door. he loosely strings up his breeches and walks over to the vanity on the other side of the room. you failed to notice when you came in the first time the bowl of water and washcloth resting beside it.
heeseung wets the cloth, wringing it momentarily before walking back over to you. you've propped yourself on your elbows now, watching his every move.
"sit up, my sweet," heeseung implores gently, seating himself beside you.
you oblige, wincing at the slight sting between your legs as you shift into a more comfortable position. heeseung starts with your face, smoothing over your cheeks with the cloth, the cooled water bringing out a sigh of relief.
he moves to wipe at your neck, then your chest. he peers down at you, laying a gentle hand on your thigh.
"let me clean down there too," heeseung says. you nod, feeling vulnerable under his watch. you part your sore thighs, letting heeseung swipe away at the stickiness.
heeseung finishes and returns the washcloth to the bowl. he picks your chemise up on the way back to you, placing it in your hands. you wordlessly stand, pulling the thin fabric over you, overtly aware of heeseung watching you from where he sits on the bed.
you turn back to him and he's gazing up at you, expression softer than all of the other times. he reaches a hand out shakily, as if hesitant, and you take it, stepping between his parted knees.
he places his hands on our lower back as if to cradle you. before you could stop yourself, you let your hand smooth back some of his silvery locks of hair.
"heâmy fatherâsent those decrees of war out when he realized i was on to him," heeseung mumbles.
you nod gently, signaling him to go on.
"i found out he'd been plotting this war for years right under my nose. i was brought up to command my father's army but i never knew it was for this," he continues.
"i begged him to stop but you can't reason with someone mad," heeseung says, voice shaking.
looking at him now, eyes so doe-like and piercing straight through your own, you realize that underneath what you called a tyrant, he was just a boy willing his father to do right.
"i had to end it one way or another," heeseung continues, head bowing.
you pull him to you, cradling him against your chest. you feel heeseng's arms tighten around your torso.
"but by the time i had dealt the final blow, it was too late. the decrees were sent and i had no choice but to fight the war he left me with."
your chest constricts.
"why not just take the decrees back, admit surrender?" you ask quietly. heeseung looks up at you and you're struck by how handsome he looks when he's not acting like the king he is.
soft lips, the delicate turn of his nose, fluttering eyelashes.
"i was already a kinslayer and a kingslayer. i couldn't lose everything after that," heeseung whispers, brows pinched together as if begging you to believe him.
a flurry of emotions course through you. despite this, you smile apologetically.
you bend down slightly, placing a gentle kiss on heeseung's forehead.
"i don't fear you," you whisper against his skin. you feel him deflate beneath your touch.
"but there is so much more i need to understand about you, husband."
heeseung pulls away and nods. he takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.
"and i'll try my hardest to make you understand. i don't expect forgiveness, just your open heart and open eyes to see who i really am."
you afford yourself another smile. you lean down once more, kissing heeseung softly.
"they're wide open, my King."
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[ DUSK âTILL DAWN : 012 ]
âwe who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust â in victory.â
cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. minimal angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. explicit smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. physical violence. sex tapes. reader has a gun and almost uses it.
notes. i wanted the kiyoomi and suna girlies (/gn) to win so here it is! feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3
wc. 12.9k
series masterlistÂ
[ TWELVE ] for you, i would cross the line. i would waste my time, i would lose my mind. they say âsheâs gone too far this time.â
You prided yourself in being logical.
There was little to no room for measly emotions when it came to royal affairs. Granted, you had no proper training, but you were raised as a noble, and the rules were clear. Set aside your emotions, always look towards the most plausible solution, and cry about it later â where no one could see. Those were your motherâs words. You held onto them for as long as you remembered, with the exception of making only one grand mistake: proceeding with the marriage after catching your fiancĂ© cheating on you.
But now? Now, you were about to make your next worst decision â letting Kiyoomi walk away.
It wasnât love, of course. It couldnât be. The odds simply werenât in your favor, but couldnât a Princess hope? You met him first, had him as your last dance on your debut ball. He was the first Prince who ever held your hand, the first Prince to dance with you, and the first â possibly last â who reminded what love could feel like. What love should feel like. It was explosive and angry like fire licking up at your skin, begging, pleading at you to chase after him. Every nerve in your body protested as you watched him take one more step away from you. Itâs a mistake, one Iâll regret â Donât let him go. It screamed at you, its cries desperate to be heard. You didnât want to be here in the Palace. You didnât want to return to your shared quarters with Rintaro.
You wanted to go back to Itachiyama â his farmhouse, the castle ruins, riding aimlessly with Astra and Lucy, picking fruits from his garden, and spending hours in his library. You hadnât even held your end of the promise yet to learn everything about him.
What did Kiyoomi love? What did he look like in his slumber? Does he talk in sleep? Does he steal the blankets? What about his favorite song?
You moved before you could think.
Closing the distance in hurried strides, you grasped the Princeâs elbow. He stiffened under your touch, his eyes unreadable through the dimly-lit hallways. âYour Highness. Wait,â you panted, âListen⊠back at Itachiyamaââ
âDo you want me?â
Your grip on him faltered. Briefly, you took a step back, but the Prince was having none of it. He easily closed whatever distance you attempted to put between you two, his face hard and eyes burning with passion. With yearning. You never thought a man could look so determined yet hopeless as he did, the picture-perfect image of ardor. His brows pinched together, his lower lip trembling as he sighed. âDo you want me?â
You shook your head.
If only it could be as simple as that.
âItâs wrong, my Prince. We couldnât⊠We wouldnât work out. I only meant to say that I do adore you, and I do not want whatever complicated feelings we have to ruin our friendship,â Lies. Every word uttered from your lips were nothing but measly lies. Kiyoomi could tell too â the hesitation written all over your face said otherwise. âI hope you understand. You and I â weâre impossible.â
You couldnât tell which one you needed more: for him to deny your worries, or for him to agree that you were right. You figured both would be just as painful.
Kiyoomiâs nostrils flared as you looked away from him, feet shuffling in the other direction already. âStop. Do not take another step. Donât you dare,â with a low growl, you were suddenly pulled back against his warm chest. You gasped at the hardness of his body, the warmth of his skin, the tenderness of his touch. His lips were everywhere but the one place you needed it to be â lingering at the curve of your neck, his breaths fanning over your exposed collarbones. It was like he had set you on fire with one touch alone, his firm grip around your waist both eerily intimidating and lustrous. And he mustâve laughed â you werenât sure anymore. All you knew was that you were completely under Kiyoomiâs mercy, and quite frankly, he could have his way with you as he pleased.
âIf you do not choose meâŠâ murmuring, your breath hitched as his lips briefly grazed your skin, making your pulse jump. âYou will regret it. You will be unhappy with him.â
Iâm already unhappy with him, you wanted to say, but the words died in your mouth.
Youâd lost all forms of coherence under Kiyoomiâs spell. Especially in this compromising position, this scandalous way his hand now slowly trailed its way from your abdomen and up to the swells on your chest â Gods, what would any witnesses say? This wasnât how a Prince held a woman that wasnât his.
âYour Highness,â you tried to fighting from his grasp, only to fall momentarily back against him when finally, finally, his lips were now leaving marks on your neck. It took all of your willpower to not give in right there, to not sink your fingers in his delicious curls. You had to say no. âI-I think weâve both had a long night. We should retire to our quarters.â
âI will allow it if itâs my quarters youâll be sharing.â
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck â your gaze darted around the empty hallway, paranoid.
The lights had been dimmed hours ago, the staff retiring to their rooms, but it was so quiet your breathy moans could echo. Anyone could walk in and see you like this, pleading but not quite begging for the Prince to not stop holding you.
And it was wrong, so deliciously wrong.
âPlease,â you closed your eyes, unable to stop yourself from craning your neck to give him access. Above you, Kiyoomi chuckled, the rumbling of his chest deliciously low.
âYou should stop lying to yourself, Princess. You do not want him. Whatever attachment you still have for my brother, it is nothing but a pitiful excuse of familiarity. You keep him around because there is no other choice, but you cannot keep lying to yourself. You cannot keep lying to me that you do not feel as I do when I see the way you look at me,â grasping your chin with his much larger hand, Kiyoomi forced you to look into his eyes. Pools of inky depths stared back at you with part frustration, part lust â his skin already flushed with sweat. You couldnât look away even if the world ended. There was only you and Kiyoomi, with his hand resting on top of your breasts and gently caressing, so light you mightâve thought he wasnât there.
And you, breathless and reckless, clung to him like he was your last lifeline.
Kiyoomi dipped down. His nose brushed against yours, your breaths mingled before he breathed you in greedily. âI was never a man who had many desires, but you are the greatest of them all. You run through my mind even in my sleep, and you are the first thing I search for when I wake. So do not tell me you do not want me when I know itâs my name you cry out in your sleep.â
Your knees felt impossibly weak.
âWhat do you want me to do? Iâm married. Youâre married. Are you forgetting divorce is impossible?â you snapped back, shoving him until his back hit the wall. The painting above him clattered, yet the Prince seemed uncaring, his arms crossed against his chest as you breathed hard. This was preposterous â this could not go any longer. âThis would never work. The people would never understand.â
âI do not care what they think.â
âI care what they think! My husband is already cheating on me, and his own people detest him for it. What more if they find out I have taken you as my lover?â
âThen tell me to go,â he whispered, tilting his head back as he stared at you almost defiantly, mockingly. Like he knew you wouldnât have the courage to actually say it. âTell me, and I will walk away.â
When Kiyoomi is met with silence, he scoffed. A smirk graced his handsome face before heâs grabbing you by the arm and twisting you, the positions reversed until your back hit the wall. Thereâs a slight ache pounding at the back of your head, but nothing â absolutely nothing â could tear your attention away from his lips crashing into yours. The kiss is nothing short of avidity. Kiyoomi devoured you like a man starved, molding the shape of his lips into yours while his large hand encompassed the entirety of your face. Thumbs running over your cheek, his imposing frame completely dominated you. Your bodies were now pressed into each other that it became difficult to tell where you began and the Prince ended.
All you knew was Kiyoomi kissed you like he spent most of his nights dreaming about it, sighing and groaning all at once before his tongue fought for dominance.
Pushing his tongue inside your willing lips, he tasted all of you. He spoke the words he struggled to say, the firm grasp on your hip keeping you in place beneath him a clear sign he didnât want you anywhere but here. But you werenât leaving. Youâd be a fool to walk away now that you finally had a taste of him, and it wasnât enough. It would never be enough.
You wanted more, needed more.
Kissing him back harder, your palms flattened on his chest before you balled his shirt into your fists, uncaring if heâd walk back home flustered and wild. You simply needed him there; you wanted to breathe him in, to have nothing but him as your entire world.
âStay,â you pleaded in between kisses, letting the Prince maneuver you until your bum landed flat on a table. Uncaring, the Prince swept aside all knick-knacks placed above it when his lips found yours again. And oh, a greedy man he was. Even after kissing you until you were breathless, he still hadnât had his fill. His tongue danced with yours in this gentle melody only you two could sing, your bodies moving in sync like a choreographed dance. Your hand would wound up to tangle itself in his dark locks, his hands would scramble to undo his breeches, and willingly â wantonly â you would welcome him with all your being. Itâs a dance between lovers, a forbidden tune you sang wholeheartedly, accompanied by your high-pitched moans once the Prince had himself buried in you â âOh. Oh.â
âWho makes you feel good?â
âYou, my Prince, itâs you,â
Biting down on your lip to muffle the noises you made, you heard the crescendo of the music. Rising and rising with overwhelming intensity at each note hit, each perfect thrust and drive into you. He hadnât felt like anyone else. He was thicker and spread you open, impaled on his stiffness while you sat there helplessly to take it all. You felt empowered and weak at the same time, with your legs locking behind his chest as tears rolled down your face from the pleasure of it all, but Kiyoomi showed no signs of stopping.
Heavens, he might not even stop tonight, not when you sucked him in tight and made his breath stutter, his thrusts staggered.
âKiyoomi,â you cried out, unable to keep quiet any longer. He simply held you carefully, a great contrast to his hips pistoning in and out of you â no, he held you like you were a porcelain doll he feared would break, someone he had to protect and cherish. And his eyes â droopy yet adoring â gazed upon you like you were worth more than any crown. âOh, you are soâŠâ
His forehead landed on top of yours, his lips minutely brushing against yours for a quick kiss. Itâs rushed, frantic, yet intimate in ways youâd never experienced before. For once, sharing bodies with someone didnât feel like just like sex.
For once, you finally made love with someone.
âChoose me, Princess,â he gritted his teeth, âIt was always meant to be me.â
You awoke with a gasp.
Sitting up, your heart pounded in your chest, your skin clammy and drenched with sweat. A scan of your surroundings told you that you were in your room, the empty side of your bed a sign Rintaro kept to his word and left you alone. Closing your eyes, your head dropped down to your palms.
So it had been a dream, after all.
You really allowed Kiyoomi to walk away from you. And one mistake leading into another, you let Rintaro do the same.
Regret churned at your stomach. You could see it perfectly now â the drooping of the Princeâs shoulders, his gaze cast downwards when you bid him farewell. There were still traces of the happiness you felt in Itachiyama lingering on him just as he finally left, ones you were compelled to reach out to before it was too late. But it couldnât be â you refused to give into your desires when it meant committing a sin. Rintaro didnât deserve your loyalty, but he was still your husband, and you wouldnât be able to sleep at night knowing youâd been exactly like him.
In fact, you might be becoming like him with each passing day, and although you would never say it out loud, you understood him better now.
To find someone who couldâve been yours, someone who wouldâve made you so happy against all odds, and to not have them at all â it felt like a cruel joke was being played by the Universe.
Is this what Rintaro felt like? Did he feel as if the world was being unusually cruel to him? Did he wonder what he couldâve done to deserve all this? Because those thoughts ran into your head long enough that you gave up on sleep, and rolled out of bed with a heavy heart and â shamefully â aching with need. Snatching your robe from the closet, you tiptoed out of the room. Rintaro was fast asleep in the sofa, his arm shielding his eyes from the lit candles. When he didnât budge from his spot at you poking around him, you let out a sigh of relief and left the room. Clicking the door shut, you spun around, coming face to face with a wide eyed maid.
âHeavens!â you placed a hand on your chest, and then chuckled as the maid stepped back and bowed. âOh, Iâm sorry. I didnât know anyone would still be around.â
The maid frantically shook her head. She scratched the back of her head as her gaze darted around, seemingly determined to not look you in the eye. âNo, Your Highness, it was my fault for startling you. I was reassigned to you just now, you see, and⊠Uhm, Iâm Airi. Prince Shinsuke sent me here.â
Airi⊠Youâd heard that name before.
âOh! Airi. Yes, of course, I remember you,â you nodded, tying the robe around your waist tighter. âWhy are you up this late?â At your question, Airiâs cheeks flushed a deep red before turning away. You smiled to yourself, chuckling under your breath as you gently squeezed her arm. âI understand. You neednât say anymore.â
âThank you, Your Highness.â
âWould you like to accompany me for a walk?â you gestured to the empty hall. Airi nodded, a little too enthusiastic in picking up her skirts. You figured neither of you wanted to stay here any longer where anyone could easily see you.
Turning to the other direction, you headed for the gardens at the outer wing. It was the closest to your shared room with Rintaro, and coincidentally, an infamous shortcut to Belleviewâs surrounding gardens. There had been rumors that Belleview was added in the palace grounds as an afterthought years ago â how a sudden need arose to have a separate place for a married couple. It was bizarre, in your opinion, how this long, seemingly endless path would certainly end up right at Kiyoomiâs doorstep if you were patient enough to brave the half hour walk.
Could you?
Would you?
Absentmindedly, you gnawed at your nails. Your Mother would chastise you for the unladylike gesture if she were here, but it was only you and Airi. She wasnât going to judge, although you didnât miss the way she glanced at you so often. Curiosity, maybe, but a question imposed her eyes. Deciding to break the silence, you smiled at the dark-haired maid.
âYouâre very pretty. I can see why the Prince fell for you.â
Airi stuttered in her steps. âOh! Thank you, youâre too kind for that, but I doubt itâs because of the way I look. The Prince and I have known each other since we were kids, thatâs all. My mother was a maid too before she died. She was the one who helped raise His Highness,â she babbled, grimacing when she realized your patient smile held little to conceal your amusement. âUhm⊠If I may be so bold, my Princess, I think you look rather great for someone who has been cheated on.â
Your brows rose. That you hadnât expected.
âI do?â
âYes. You look unbothered by it, or at least, you seem to be doing a great job at it,â she offered a polite smile, âBeing a royal must come naturally to you as a noblewoman.â
Unable to help it, you chuckled. Oh, how wrong she was.
âNot at all. I havenât always been this way,â you told her, watching as your surroundings changed from the marble pillars and into the night sky, where the fresh, cold breeze bit at your skin. You were thankful for it â the cold atmosphere was a great contrast to the blooming, colorful flowers.
It somehow reminded you of Kiyoomiâs gardens, and how you probably wouldnât see it anymore.
The smile on your face disappeared. The ring on your finger grew heavier, and unbeknownst to you, you started spinning it with your thumb. It was curious, truly, how a week was all it took before you completely lost yourself. You couldnât remember who you were even like before Itachiyama, before Kiyoomi. Or could it be that the past you had never been fulfilled to begin with? What if you were merely a work in progress, and the you in this moment was the real one?
If that was true, then that could only mean two things you would never want to admit out loud.
One: that you werenât as in love with your husband as you thought if you couldnât get Kiyoomi out of your mind, or Two: that the traditional saying and belief was right â your last dance would be your fated lover.
And it would make sense, too. Of course, you were happy with Rintaro. Were. You fell in love with him simply because there was no other appropriate reaction. He was the Crown Prince, a man who called on you every single day and learned about your passions until night came. He charmed your parents, loved them as his own, and proudly presented you to his regal family. It was the kind of love little girls were taught to dream about. The kind of love everyone wanted. You couldnât blame yourself for craving the Princeâs touch, for giving him all your firsts. It seemed only the right thing to do. He courted you, committed to you, loved you as much as he could â it was logical and methodical.
It was one plus one equals two.
But Kiyoomi? It didnât feel natural, or a step by step process.
It felt all kinds of wrong because you shouldnât, and all kinds of right because itâs him. Itâs the way he smiles at you when he thinks youâre not looking, or how his head is always turned in the other direction to act like he isnât listening. He isnât like Rintaro who never takes his gaze off of you â not because he canât get enough of your beauty, but because he was watching. Rintaro was always watching, analyzing everything you did, crafting his actions and words perfectly to elicit the response he wanted from you.
His brother was the exact opposite.
Kiyoomi always stayed at the walls and blended in with the background. He never attracted any attention to himself, but would devote his entire focus on you simply because heâs entranced. Or you hoped he might. Surely it couldnât be one-sided.
You felt it too â the frustration ebbing off of him each time you slipped away. You saw with your own eyes the way his face fell when news of your husbandâs affair spread.
He didnât hate his brother for sleeping with his mistress behind your back. He hated Rintaro for ruining a night that shouldâve been yours. A night where his touch could linger on yours for a moment longer as you smiled for the cameras. A night where itâd be appropriate for him to look at you like youâre the star of the show â itâs camaraderie, youâd play off â and a night where he mightâve drove you back at the farmhouse and slowly, tenderly, begin with tugging your gloves off before he moved on to your dress.
Gods. You exhaled. You shouldnât be doing this.
You shouldnât be thinking about Kiyoomi, his plump lips that looked inviting, his dark eyes hungrily roaming over you and hoping, praying, that itâd been him instead. These were all wrong â so why were you walking towards Belleview?
âYour Highness?â
Airiâs voice snapped you out of your trance. Blinking, you smiled back at her in apology and continued. âSorry, I must have been lost in my thoughts. As I was saying, though, I spent most of my life hiding behind my parentsâ shadows because I struggled talking to people. And then the Crown Prince came and swept me off my feet, which changed everything. When he came into my life, I figured I had to become someone worthy enough to stay by his side, someone he could be proud to be with. It took a lot of years and effort before I could be confident enough to say I was good enough for him,â you mumbled, stopping in your tracks to look up into the dark horizon before you.
Huh. Why hadnât you realized that before?
Youâd been trying so hard to impress Rintaro all along. Isnât that why you were so frustrated? Youâd spent years molding yourself to become who he wanted, only to be slapped in the face that it was impossible because you could never be her.
You let out a dry laugh. âBut apparently not. He already had someone else.â
âIâm really sorry you were dragged into this. From the stories Prince Shinsuke tells me, youâre a kind woman who deserved better.â
âI donât know about that,â you said, âWould you believe me if I said I wasnât mad upon reading the tabloids about his affair? If anything, I was just furious he couldnât stay out of trouble and ruined my trip to Itachiyama.â
âDid you like it there?â
âI loved it. I wanted to stay.â
Admitting it out loud felt⊠liberating. You were beginning to feel more like yourself, even if it meant being less of a Princess and more of this unorthodox woman who simply wanted to be. It must be the side effect of spending time with Kiyoomi. You would soon care less about the rules imposed on you, and unapologetically be yourself.
âBut the world sure has a cruel way of bringing you back to reality.â
âYour Highness?â
Both yours and Airiâs head snapped at the sound. Amongst the rustling of the bushes, a tall figure suddenly appeared â all mighty and regal even in his creased blouse and loosely tied breeches. His hair, dark and tousled like heâd run his fingers through it, did little to hide the surprise on his face.
âMy Prince,â you breathed out, âWhat are you doing out here so late?â
âI couldnât sleep. And you?â
You fought back a smile at his raspy voice. You could almost picture it â Kiyoomi tossing and turning all night in a bed separate from Iris. The sanguine voice in your head fibbed, too, wondering if the Prince thought about you as well. âItâs a restless night,â was all you let on, and gestured to the shock-still maid beside you. âAiri, do you mind giving us some privacy?â
Vehemently, she shook her head. âNot at all, Princess. Please, call for me if you need anything. I wonât be far.â
You waited as Airi disappeared from sight before you stepped closer to the Prince, compelled by an invisible force to be closer to him. âKiyoomiââ
âAre you well?â
âMe? Why do you ask?â
He tipped his head to the side, causing a lone curl to fall in front of his eye. You fought back the urge to brush it away, beguiled by his long fingers sweeping it away âYouâre in a very difficult position right now, whatnot with the article spreading,â he gestured back to the castle, âHas he spoken to you?â
You shook your head. âHeâs kept to himself the past few days. I think this is a lot harder on him than it looks. As for me, well⊠Iâve had better days.â
True to your word, Rintaro almost secluded himself from the world. He shut off his phone, chucked it at another corner of the room, and never touched it again. It was painful seeing your husband that way when you know of his hobby of endless scrolling. But now, he couldnât stomach the social media wishing him ill, seeing so blatantly with his own eyes his peopleâs deference to him. It hurt â more so for him than you â but still, a small part of you wished heâd say something. You were there, were you not?
You cut off your trip short because your husband needed you, and he barely uttered a word since you arrived. It got at your nerves. Nevertheless, youâd give him the time he needed. You planned to keep to your word that you would fix this all for him, regardless of what that might take.
You werenât so cruel to let your husband be dragged into the pits of hell. Because quite frankly, that wasnât the mediaâs right to begin with. If anyone would unleash hell upon Rintaro and Iris, it had to be you.
Kiyoomi scanned your face. âYou donât seem upset about all of this.â
You shrugged. âTheir secret wouldâve gone out one way or another. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I have far, bigger things to worry about, like you,â you leveled your gaze with his, watching as the Prince sucked in a breath.
Your last conversation with him the past night still played in your mind. It ate away at you to have to say goodbye when you didnât want to, but he was here now. You woldnât waste the opportunity to make things right.
Steeling yourself, you shut your eyes tight to gather courage. âKiyoomi⊠Your Highness. I⊠I do not wish to stop talking to you. I know I sound absurd because I havenât known you that long, but everything we shared in Itachiyama, I cherish it. I wonât forget a single memory I shared with you. So please allow me to take back what I said. I didnât mean it when I said I would stop talking to you.â
âYou should, though.â Opening your eyes, your heart dropped into your stomach when the Prince took a step back. âI donât think we can be friends, Princess.â
Your hands grew cold and clammy.
âW-Why not? Have I done something to offend you? Tell me, and I will correct itââ
âWe cannot be friends because I do not wish to be just your friend.â
Whatever distance he created between you disappeared. In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi had closed the gap in one smooth stride, leaning down close enough his nose nearly brushed yours.
You inhaled sharply at the proximity. Kiyoomiâs heat blanketed you, making you realize youâd been shivering from the cold prior to his arrival. Now, he was here, and your senses were filled to the brim with him â his scent, his warmth, his frame looming over yours making you feel protected instead of small. You couldnât help it; your fingers twitched to pull him by his collar and finally have his lips pressed to yours. Itâd been eating away at you for several nights.
A peck couldnât hurt.
But you made no move, greedily sharing in the same breaths instead. Because if it was all you could have, then it was all you could get.
âYouâre right. It does sound absurd. We have barely spoken to one another, yet Iâm already tired of this stupid game my brother is playing â his foolish plans to become King, make my wife his concubine, all with the intention of keeping you around like a pet. It makes my blood boil,â Kiyoomi grinned, though it was more sinister than genuine. âHe cannot have everything for himself. I will not let him.â
âMy Prince. Iââ
ââDonât get me wrong. Iâm not in love with you, nor do I have any intentions of stooping down to Rintaroâs level and stealing what isnât mine,â cruel, you think, as the Prince effectively cut you off with a brush of his thumb to your lips. You were now putty at his hands; melting and knees weakened with nothing but his touch holding you up. âBut I am tired of seeing you this distraught over a man who cannot see your worth. I have had enough. So whatever plans you may have to retaliate, tell me, and I will gladly be a pawn in your game. Make your move. You may command me as you please.â
It took a moment before his words dawned on you. When it did, your palms flattened on his chest, absorbing its warmth and feeling the flutter of his heart underneath your fingertips. He felt so alive, whole, and well â you couldnât possibly drag him into your mess.
âI could never use you like that. You know this.â
âSo you do have a plan in mind,â he noted with a smirk, fingers crawling up to circle your wrist. âMy brother really underestimated you, hasnât he? Youâre already proving to be far more dangerous than any sword.â
You flushed warm at his compliment. Pretty, yes, Rintaro has called you that multiple times. Beautiful, gorgeous, even, but dangerous? It made you feel powerful, like the crown was already on your head, and the kingdom was all yours for the taking. But greed often started out as a small flicker of fire, and you stomped on it as quickly as it breathed into life. You were no thrill seeker â you would not dabble or tread in dangerous, unknown, forbidden paths. Such paths like Kiyoomi, but it was there. The temptation. The calling to just reach out to the hand heâs offered.
Its voice beckoned you. Come, it whispered oh-so-sweetly at your ear, he is your puppet.
You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation. âIt isnât a good plan at all, and the Queen has summoned us â all of us â to inform us of her decisions on how we will proceed with this scandal. Thereâs a good chance Her Majesty might get in the way, but Iâm determined. I need this plan to work.â
âWhat are you thinking about?â
âI plan on turning the tables around and pinning it on Iris. I know itâs dangerous â sheâs your wife, and you might get caught in the crossfireââ
âDo as you please.â
âAre you serious?â
Kiyoomi nodded with resolve. âWhen I said I do not wish to be just your friend, I meant it. I want you to use me. I want to be your weapon,â nudging his nose with yours, he brought up your hand to his lips, kissing the glimmering diamond on your ring. A kiss of rebellion, a war cry, or a silent plea to be dominated â it said everything and too little all at once. âIf there is anything I can do to help you escape this royal hell, I will do it.â
You closed your fist around his lips, and basked in the ghostly flutters it will leave upon your skin hours after he has gone. Then, you questioned it all: how could something so poignant evoke a raging will within you?
âIt will be hard for you, Your Highness,â you warned him, âMy plan is not a kind one.â
âI do not have very kind thoughts myself,â he chuckled, the sound dark and ominous. âBut you should be careful, Princess. Iris is not who you think she is. If you are to proceed with your plan, you need to watch out for yourself, and Maiko especially.â
Maiko? What could Maikoâs involvement with Iris be?
âShe wonât hurt Maiko, will she?â
âShe wouldnât dare, but I canât guarantee she wonât try doing something to you,â with a wary gaze, Kiyoomi immediately masked it with that of indifference. Scanning the surroundings, and hearing nothing but the crickets of insects and the rustling of bushes from the wind, Kiyoomi wrapped a protective arm around your waist. âItâs getting late. Let me walk you back. Iris is probably somewhere close.â
You were never one to feel much fear, but in that moment, a sense of numbing chill settled in your bones. Goosebumps arose on your skin. It was almost like you could feel it â her sharp gaze, her wicked and deceivingly innocent smile. You shivered despite yourself and huddled closer to the Prince, letting him guide you through the gardenâs maze when his lips brushed the shell of your ear.
âDo you wish to know what would make Iris tick?â
âWhat?â
âIt may be Rintaro who she wants,â his breathy voice caressed you, sending a different set of shivers down your spine. âBut it is I whom she would kill to keep. Present yourself as a threat, make her believe you can steal me from her, and you will find her willingly offering Rintaro to you.â
You scoffed. âAnd if I donât want him?â
âThen you shall always have me.â
Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi, KiyoomiâŠ
The Princeâs last words haunted you. Moreover, the way he looked with the moonlight illuminated upon him⊠he felt surreal. He came to you in your dreams more than once, caressing you in places he shouldnât be touching, filling you in ways you never thought possible. A part of you wondered if it was merely your brain coping with the fact youâd mistakenly lain in bed with Rintaro. How youâve felt disgusted with yourself ever since, and found it hard to look in the mirror. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the brain â replacing the man who left marks on you with the man that couldâve made you feel better. And you knew Prince Kiyoomi would â with those large, calloused hands, and luscious lips you spent countless hours gazing upon⊠would it be such a sin to wish they hadnât been dreams only?
Picking up the nearby body wash, you scrubbed yourself clean of Rintaro. Your body still ached from last nightâs events, but your heart clenched for an entirely different reason. Seriously. You couldnât believe it. First, heâd let himself get caught in the action, and you let him sleep with you? You couldâve pushed him away. You couldâve said no.
It didnât have to lead to whatever happened last night.
But then again, laughing to yourself, why did you chastise yourself so much? He was your husband. You were both married â sleeping with him wasnât a mistake. Yet why did it feel like it? It felt as if⊠you kept on letting him take and take from you. How long until youâve had enough? How much more could you give before there was nothing left of you?
You sighed, sinking deeper under the water. Itâd been hours since your previous encounter with the older prince, and he hadnât left your mind since. His offer for you to make use of him like he was a weapon, or worse, a tool, wasnât an opportunity you could let pass by.
You could make use of him. He had more access to Iris than you ever could, and planting spies in Belleview Manor sounded terrible. Sheâd probably won over their loyalty judging by the way they kept their mouths shut that first night you arrived there to give her tea for her âheadache.â She had secrets, that you were sure of, but did Kiyoomi know them too? What was her connection with Maiko? Surely⊠Maiko wasnât involved in whatever schemes they had in mind. The Princess was too sweet and innocent for that, but then again, so was Iris. The so called âdear friendâ of your boyfriend before heâd asked for your hand in marriage.
This was proving to be nearly impossible.
It was hard to tell who to trust within the Palace. Kita would be at your side, but you couldnât possibly involve him in your plan. He might not even approve of it. It would be against the law, and it wasnât the kindest thing one could think of. Kita would call it âthe opposite of justice.â
âI hope the meeting went well, Princess?â
Popping your head from the water, you watched as Airi entered the room, folded towels in her arms. Sheâd prepared a bath for you long before you arrived, the water warm and filled with bubbles â just how you liked it. The room smelled faintly of roses, too, and you made a mental note to thank Airi for her efforts.
âIt was great. His Highness and I discussed a lot,â he almost kissed me, too, but she didnât need to know that, or the fact you wished he did. âOh, and Airi.â
âYes, maâam?â
You pondered over it, you really did it. It was out of your character to abuse the power you had, yet you couldnât stop the heat flaring in your veins. The pettiness that begged to be revealed. âCould you have someone call LâEssenxe Royale? Tell them I want them to discontinue their Vanilla Candy line because Iâm allergic to it, and it would be a shame if I had to stop purchasing their perfumes.â
âYes, maâam,â Airi nodded, stopping in her tracks after a beat. âI wasnât informed you were allergic to vanilla. Iâm sorry, Iâll do better in catering to your needs more.â
âIâm not allergic. I just donât want to smell Iris ever again.â
Just before Airi could respond, the doors swung open. Suna sauntered in like he owned the place, the top three buttons of his white shirt undone and loose. His collarbones and the top of his chest shone with sweat, his skin flushed and his dark hair messily swept to the sides. He mustâve gone for his early training â and damned him for looking good.
You snorted inwardly. But Prince Kiyoomi probably looked better.
âThere you are. I didnât get to see you before I left.â
âAiri, please give us a moment,â you requested from where you sat, arms lazily resting on the sides of the tub. Airi scurried out of the room with reddened cheeks â no doubt picturing what events could transpire between a naked wife and her insatiable husband. And speaking of said husband, heâd leant against the pristine white walls, arms crossed against his chest as he let those dark, hooded eyes roam over your exposed skin.
âTo what do I owe this pleasure?â
âI think the real pleasure here is this view.â
You rolled your eyes. âIs that what you told your mistress too when you fucked her in my bed?â
Suna paused. It was a bait; he was sure of it. Choosing not to bite at your provocation, he pushed his weight off the wall and gestured to the doors. âYou redecorated the room,â he announced, âWithout my permission.â
âI wasnât aware I needed your permission. I thought we made it clear â under your suggestion â that I was to sleep in that bed, and you take the couch outside. Technically, that would make it my room, no?â
âYou made Airi burn the sheets.â
âSue me.â
âYou threw away Irisâ clothes.â
âThey barely counted as clothes, Your Highness. They were just thongs.â
âIf this is about last nightââ
âLast night was a mistake. Never speak of it again,â you warned, and just the mere reminder that youâd let him have his way with you, and you were too weak to refuse, again, no longer made the relaxing bath enjoyable. All of Airiâs efforts poured down the drain because having Suna around had your muscles stiffening with tension again. Rising from the bath, you wiped off the bubbles and suds off your body before stepping out. âWhat did you truly come here for? You never bother me when Iâm bathing.â
Sunaâs hungry gaze followed your every movement. The perverted bastard wasnât even trying to hide it â his poor attempts of adjusting his breeches a failure once youâd put on your robe. âHer Majesty has summoned us for breakfast. She has an important announcement to make. I suggest you make haste so she wonât be anymore upset with us.â
âWith you, you mean,â you waved around your lip balm, âWhat? Donât look so offended. I am not the one who caused a scandal here.â
âIâm tired of arguing with you.â
You couldnât agree more. Smacking your lips together, you walked past him, making sure to sashay your hips as you did. But before you could leave the room, Sunaâs hand shot out to wrap it around your wrist. Gently, he pulled you back into him until your breasts brushed with his chest, the dampness of your robe making his shirt stick even harder on his skin.
 âWait,â he breathed out, not once taking his eyes off you as he blindly swiped for a towel. âLet me dry you off properly. It would be a shame if you made a mess on your newly decorated room.â
Your husband fell down on his knees before you could say a word.
You almost asked him what he was doing when his hands tugged at the ties of your robes, his tender touch pushing them past your shoulders until the robe pooled at your feet. You inhaled sharply. Suna was kneeling before you, caressing your leg and urging you to place at his thigh. You donât know what compelled you to obey, but you did. Resting it on his leg, you felt too exposed â his nose was right at your stomach, his hands touching everywhere but that one place near your heat.
It was torture.
The entire act was done with slow, purposeful motions. Like an artist taking great care with his sculptures, he pressed hard on your hips to keep you in place when you shivered. His strength, his silent gestures that he wouldnât let you slip and fall â it broke your heart.
Why couldnât he love you?
Why couldnât he touch you this way and mean it?
Why did he have to remove his ring?
The glint of the golden material caught your attention from the vanity. You picked it up where he left it last night, unconsciously hugging it to your chest until you fell asleep. Until now, youâd brought it with you, and stared at it hard enough it mightâve melted. It never did, just as he would never belong to you. And then â his finger swiped over your nipple, the cloth on his hands now damp and his breath staggering as he moved to kiss your bare stomach.
You pushed his head away.
Suna stumbled back, barely. He sat there with a dazed expression, the towel he used to dry you with now forgotten. His hands shook in his lap, his eyes blown wide with something you couldnât quite name â longing, regret, frustration. Whatever it was, it matched yours.
âIâm dry enough,â you told him, snatching off his ring from the counter and flicking it his way. The two of you watched as it stumbled along the ground with a loud clink, clink, clink, before it rolled right at his feet. When you finally found the courage to speak, your voice was so quiet â you couldnât hear yourself at all. âWear it. I donât care that it no longer means anything to you. I wonât have you causing anymore problems for me when your mother asks about it.â
When you and Suna sat next to each other at the dining hall, neither of you spoke a word.
In fact, not a single person present dared to. Her Majesty sat at the head of the table, the clink of her utensil the only thing audible as she furiously cut into her steak. She was furious, that much was obvious. Even Crown Prince Ushijima hadnât touched his meal, and his young son, barely a boy of eight, had his lips shut the entire time.
Finally, she takes a bite, takes a huge drink of her wine, and slams the glass down. All of you jump at the sound.
âIt is not every day we can all be gathered here, but as you are all aware, it is a trifling time for the Crown. We as the royal family need to be united now more than ever,â she announced, her back straight as she looked everyone in the eye. âWhich is why I am here to inform everyone of some minor changes we will implement from now on, and some events we have planned for the next season. First of all, Princessââ she pointed her knife your way, â-I need you to hold your mother back. Sheâs getting on my nerves with all her incessant calling.â
âExcuse me?â
âYou heard me,â she lifted her chin, âYour Mother hasnât stopped bugging me ever since that article was released. She demands I return her to you, but I think she forgets her place and yours. You are a Princess now; you are the Crownâs property. You are to stay here and see to your duties until you take your last breath.â
Forcing a smile, you willed yourself to calm down. âMy mother was merely concerned, Your Majesty. Iâm sure she doesnât mean any harm.â
âWhich is exactly why Iâm telling you to tell her to stand down. I have already spoken with my advisors our next course of action and have all decided that we will deny Rintaro and Irisâ affair by all means. We are to pretend as if the article never existed. We need to show we are the Crown, the monarchs and rulers of this grand kingdom. We will not be swayed by measly gossip and defaming rumors.â
âBut it wasnât a rumor. The Crown Prince did sleep with the Princess.â
Her Majesty sighed, the sound dramatically drawn out. âDo you have any complaints, my dear? Because if you did, then you should have attended the meeting this morning.â
You gritted your teeth. âI wasnât informed there was one.â
âThatâs a shame â I thought Rintaro would tell you. It seems he likes to keep his secrets, then,â she jabbed, and your husband nervously sipped his wine as you glared at the sides of his head. âNow, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we planned a few events for this season. For this month, the four of you will be showing up to public events and you are to appear united in marriage. Laugh, kiss, hold hands â I do not care. Just make sure the cameras get it, and if anyone dares ask on any clarifications about the affair, simply tell them that it is very easy to fabricate photographs nowadays. You will deny everything. Understand?â
âYes, Your Majesty,â agreed Suna, and you scoffed. Snaking his hands under the table, he squeezed yours in assurance and whispered, âDonât cause a scene in front of the Queen. We will talk later about this.â
âI was hoping we would.â
âNext, Iris and Y/N will be having weekend dates to show they are friends. We have already contacted an orphanage you will pay a visit to. Play with the kids, read storybooks with them, and get as many pictures as possible. Not only will it show that thereâs camaraderie between you two, but hanging out with children will also imply that we can expect a next line of heirs soon.â
âA splendid idea!â Atsumu beamed, the first to dig into his meal. Rather, the Prince was halfway finished stuffing his mouth, happily rubbing his hands together at the thought. âThis will all be good for the Crown, and to win the peopleâs trust back.â
âYou really donât know how to shut up, huh?â muttered Osamu.
âYour Majesty. Donât you think this is going too far?â Tobio spoke up, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. Beside him, Prince Shinsuke was pleading for him to sit back down. The youngest Prince merely slapped his hands away, looking betrayed by his brotherâs words. âWhy is no one speaking up? Is this how the royal family really is? You would all lie to your people, deceive them we are all in one heart and mind when we are not. Is that the kind of rulers we aspire to be? Are we really the rulers they look up to?â
Prince Shinsuke pinched the bridge of his nose. âI understand youâre upset, but the throne wouldnât have lasted this long if none of us pulled some strings and kept up deceiving acts. Trust me, I also do not wish to take a part in this, but Her Majesty is right. The people are already growing restless that we have been without a King for years â having Crown Prince Rintaroâs reputation tarnished will not make this better. And as far as I know, there are still many protests against having an illegitimate child on the throne,â he reminded, causing Prince Ushijima to clear his throat awkwardly. Still, Shinsuke pushed on. âRintaro is the King the Cabinet wants. We must follow the law. Ushijima can only be crowned King until we have ran out of options.â
Your jaw dropped.
âAnd what of me?â
âWith all due respect, Your Highness, the future of the Kingdom is a heavier matter at hand than your broken heart,â Iris quipped, âBesides, if you knew about our relationship prior to the marriage, then you cannot blame anyone but yourself. Youâre in this predicament because you were too cowardly to let go when given the chance.â
âThatâs enough!â Tobio yelled. âYou all need to stop talking about her like that. Youâre all right â the Crown is more important. We need a stable ruler and for the people to not lose their trust in us. But the Princess is still a human. She was lied to, manipulated, and constantly looked down on. The least you can do right now is let her acknowledge her pain, seeing as it is clearly too much for each and every one of you to be decent human beings!â
Her Majesty paid him no mind. Waving her hand in the air dismissively, she sighed. âHe is young. He will understand someday.â
At her nonchalance, Tobioâs nostrils flared. It was the last you saw of him before he kicked his chair back, storming out of the hall before everyone erupted into protests. Keiji slunk back into his seat, Shinsuke was immediately making efforts to appease the Queen by apologizing on everyoneâs behalf, and Maiko was crying. And you? You glowered at the Queen before following after Tobio, the three other Princes right at your heels.
The doors slammed shut behind you.
You could hear the Princes running after you. Two pairs were rushing, but one pair of footfalls sounded more like stomping. Before you could turn down the hall where Tobio went, you were dragged by, Suna firmly gripping your elbow as he halted you in your tracks.
âHer Majesty was speaking,â he hissed, fingers digging harder to your skin. âDonât be rude.â
âOh, fuck off, Rintaro. I canât believe you right now. Letting me be friends with your mistress? Really? And you didnât even tell me there was a meeting this morning!â
His free hand ran through his hair. âI didnât tell you because I knew you would act like this. You wouldâve embarrassed me in front of the advisors. Besides, you left before I couldââ
âI embarrass you? Do you even hear yourself? Youâre the embarrassing one for going behind my back and sleeping with your mistressââ
âSheâs not my mistress!â
âIsnât she? I wasnât aware there was another word to describe a woman frolicking with a married man!â
His grip grew tighter as he spoke, and you squeaked out in pain. You tried to pry his fingers off of you, but Suna wasnât having any of it. âYouâre one to talk, leaving me here in this country to go around dancing with my brotherââ Your husbandâs face disappeared before you. In the blink of an eye, he was shoved nearly across the room and falling right at his ass.
Kiyoomi stood protectively over you, his chest rising and falling as he shook with anger.
âStay away from my wife!â
Meanwhile, Tooru dodged between Suna and Kiyoomi, the former rising on his feet and reeling his arm back in a punch. Tooru effortlessly caught his brotherâs arm, but holding him back was a different struggle of itself. âRin, thatâs enough!â
âAre you okay?â
You blinked back from the scene. Kiyoomi was now holding your arm where Suna grabbed you, checking for any injuries. Aside from a little aching, and a possible bruise that would show up tomorrow, you were unharmed. Still, the Prince wasnât assured. His thick brows pinched together in concern, turning your arm over and over as he muttered to himself the violent things he wished to do to his brother. âDid he hurt you?â
âNot really, but I want to go after Tobio.â
Kiyoomi nodded in understanding. âGo. Iâll handle this.â
You shared a knowing look with him. Iâm on your side, his eyes said, and that was enough to reassure you. Giving him a nod, you quickly turned on your heels and ran. You ran and ran until you were out of breath, your corset digging into you uncomfortably. The youngest Prince sure was a fast one â heâd already reached his own study in such a short time.
Peeking through the partially closed door, your heart broke at the sight.
Prince Tobio sat on his painterâs stool, an unfinished portrait of you â smiling in your wedding dress â lay before him. He was crying, sniffling to himself and wiping his tears with the collar of his blouse. Even the sounds of his cries were too painful to hear.
Shutting the door behind you, you took your place behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders to make him look up. When he did, his bloodshot eyes greeted you.
âIâm sorry you had to witness all of that,â you tell him softly, âI didnât mean to ruin breakfast for you.â
Tobio shook his head. He pulled out a handkerchief before blowing on it, and you smiled despite yourself â heâd grown so much, yet he was still that sweet, naĂŻve boy in your eyes. It felt like a lifetime ago when he had his debut, and now he was flourishing into such a great, young man. Your little brother, the sweetest Prince â you would do anything for him.
âYou donât need to apologize for anything, sis. Youâre the victim here.â
You laughed a little. Victim sounded too poor of a word choice. Turning to the canvas before you, you gestured to it. âWhat are you painting?â
âYou,â he admitted with red cheeks, âI started on this when Rintaro announced heâd be marrying you so I could give it as a wedding gift. But Her Majesty wanted me to focus on my studies, so I didnât have enough time to finish. I mean, itâs not even the same dress you wore on your wedding so itâs inaccurateââ
â-It looks beautiful.â
âItâs still unfinished,â his shoulders slumped in your flattery before he lightened up, already moving to pick up the brushes as he wiped his snot with his hanky. âSince youâre here, would you like me to paint you as you are now? Iâll get a new canvas.â
âAre you sure? I donât want you to lose all your efforts on your previous painting.â
âItâs fine,â he reassured, and per his instruction, you sat stiffly to âposeâ for him. Itâs a little awkward, and Tobio struggled to sketch you each time you fidgeted, but at least he wasnât crying anymore. Midway through his sketch, though, he placed his pencil down, his eyes brimming with tears again. âI still canât believe Rintaro was capable of being so cruel. Iâll never forgive him for what he did,â he said, his lower lip quivering. âAre they really like this? Is everyone in the Palace truly so heartless? Will I⊠never find love of my own, too?â
âOh, Tobio,â you reached your arms out, crushing him to your chest. The Princeâs tears dampened your dress, though you paid it no mind. He was too young for all this hurt â this war over the crown. He was too good for a cruel place like this. âIt will get easier someday.â
Fisting your skirt, he buried his face to your neck, his whole body shivering under you. âI never wanted to be a Prince. I-I wanted to keep playing sports and go pro someday. Thereâs a whole world out there for me to see, and Iâm so afraid Iâll never become the person I want to be. Iâm afraid I might turn out like my brothers.â
You pulled back to make him look at you. Cupping his face with your hands, you shook your head firmly. âThatâs not true, Tobio. Youâre already a thousand times better than your brothers. Look, youâre sweet, kind, and passionate. Who says you donât deserve to achieve your dreams? You can be who you want to be. You can see the world. I promise you that Iâll support you in anything you want to do. Anything.â
âReally?â grinning, he wiped his cheeks free from his tears. âThen⊠will you come to my game? Thereâs a match and the Coach just added me to the team. It⊠Well, it might be a good opportunity for you and everyone else to show youâre unaffected by the scandal, too.â
âOh, forget the scandal. I only want to see you play,â you tell him, and the Princeâs innocent smile is so big and bright it soothed all the aches in your heart. You promised to yourself, then and there, that you would do what it takes to protect that smile. âNow, should we get to this painting?â
That talk with Tobio filled you with unwavering resolve.
The poor boy didnât deserve to spend a minute longer in the Palace. It simply wasnât a place for him. He needed to be out there, living his life to the fullest, and to be surrounded by good people who were healthy for him. Not his greedy, cheating brothers, and most especially not with the heartless Queen as his only mother figure.
You had to do something for him. You had to weaken the throne even further, exploit their weakness and make the monarchy crumble. If not for you, then you would do it for Tobio.
It was the reason youâd gained enough courage to dial the number weighing heavily in your pockets long before Itachiyama. That piece of paper Kiyoomi slipped into your coat just before you parted ways. You shouldâve known it back then â Kiyoomi was somehow always one step ahead of you. Itâs like he knew what you wanted to happen before you said out loud. What you needed before you told him what it was. And youâd done it â scheduled the meeting, hired a private chauffer, and rented out a restaurant in the middle of nowhere at the dead time of the night before you could change your mind.
Do it For Tobio. For Kiyoomi. For you.
He arrived not a minute later than the designated time. He stood tall and confident â seemingly unbothered by the mass of hate heâd accumulated. Sauntering in through the doors with a smirk, he let out a low whistle, impressed with the lack of people. You had promised him privacy, after all, and if you wanted to succeed in your plans, you couldnât be shy in splurging a little bit of money.
âKuroo Tetsurou, was it?â
âYour Highness,â he greeted with a bow, his smile growing wider as he pulled out his chair. Heâs handsome, with a smile you wouldnât deem trustworthy, and he held an aura to him that warned you to tread carefully. He was, after all, the man who singlehandedly exposed your husbandâs affair. âI am flattered by your efforts, though I must admit. I did not expect you would reach out to me of all people. I assumed you wanted my head.â
You offer him a polite smile. âYou have it all wrong. In fact, Iâm thankful for the opportunity youâve presented to me,â leaning forward, you slid a thin envelope his way. Inside it contained a document of your own words, one you trusted Kuroo would twist to sound more convincing. âI want you to publish another article.â
Kurooâs eyes widened. He waited for a beat, a moment or two, for you to say you didnât mean it. You couldâve been joking. But you hold his gaze, your smile just as firm, refusing to waver from his intense gaze. âWith all due respect, Maâam, I think Iâm already in enough trouble for that last one.â
Fair enough. You didnât think heâd be that easy to convince.
Reaching beside you, you pulled out a case and clicked open the locks for him. If Kuroo was surprised before, he was most definitely flabbergasted by now. Wads of cash piled against each other stared back at him â temping him to reach out and take it. Smiling to yourself, you gently nudged the case in his direction.
âThis is half of what Iâll pay you. Iâll pay you twice as much once youâve done your part,â you promised, âYou donât need to fear, Mr. Kuroo. Iâll guarantee your protection if you do this for me.â
Kuroo chuckled to himself. Shutting the case back shut, he was quick to slide it to his side â deal done and closed. âIf a lovely Princess is asking so nicely, I canât possibly turn it down, can I?â pulling out a small notebook from his coat, Kuroo uncaps his pen with a twist of his teeth. âSo letâs get into it. What story do you want, Maâam? Do you want the truth or⊠something more scandalous than your husbandâs affair?â
âI want you to ruin Iris,â you declared, âInside that envelope is a list of people the Princess frequently interacts with, as well as records from her history dating back from when she moved here with mother. I want you to look into everything and pick apart whatever could destroy her reputation. There are secrets that she keeps, and I want them out in the public.â
Kuroo doesnât bother writing that down. âHer reputation is well ruined already, Maâam. I doubt much could make it worse.â
Your brow shoots up. âAre you doubting my abilities or questioning my demands?â
âNeither,â he reassured with a mischievous grin, âI shall write something about her, then, but what about the Crown Prince? Do I still have the assurance of your protection if he comes after me for messing with his precious little thing?â
Oh, please. His âprecious little thingâ doesnât even want him.
Spinning your wedding finger with your thumb, you stared at it. âTell me, Kuroo. Youâre a journalist, one that wasnât invited at that private party my husband was in. So why were you there that night? Most importantly, how did you get their photos?â you brought your gaze back up to him, âYouâre not secretly planning for the downfall of the crown, are you?â
Kuroo scratched the back of his neck. âI wouldnât dream of it, Your Highness. But to answer your question, then no, I wasnât invited. I wouldnât even know a single thing about their affair if it wasnât for one of you.â
âOne of us?â you echoed, âAre you saying someone in the royal family hired you as well?â
âIndeed. Though I must say, I never expected working with just one of you could have me set for life. What more if I teamed up with you too?â
So your theories were right. That article didnât appear out of nowhere â someone wanted it to happen. âIt was Iris, wasnât it? She asked you to publish that because she knew I was with her husband⊠but that wouldnât make any sense. That article puts her in a bad light. It couldnât be her, right?â
âYouâll be surprised, Maâam, but it was not the Princess,â he clarified.
Kurooâs face pinched in contemplation, and then suddenly, pulls out a different phone from his pockets. Itâs a beat-up iPhone with its battery nearly dead, but with a few clicks here and there, the video played loud and clear. The camera is shaky, the angles all wrong. Whoever recorded it clearly seemed to be inebriated. Yet there it was â the unmistakable masculine voice groaning, the slapping of skin against each other, and a high-pitched womanly moan. The camera caught nothing but long, blond hair flowing on top of her bouncing breasts before the camera was flipped, finally showing the culprit â
âAtsumu?â
Atsumu gripped Yukiâs hips, shoving the phone between their bodies to show the pistoning of his cock in and out of her. There was no point denying it now. Both their faces were clear from the video, and if this got outâŠ
Kuroo paused the video. âIâm not supposed to be showing you this, but the Prince hasnât kept up to his end of the bargain, so I might as well ask for your help, too,â shutting the phone off, Kuroo rested his chin on his hands. âThat night, he slept with an intoxicated actress and accidentally filmed themselves in the act. The Prince was drunk himself, made the mistake of posting that video online, and merely eighteen minutes later, any traces of their sex tape disappeared. Curious?â
The pieces of the puzzle finally fit.
âHe called you to write about Iris and Rintaro to cover up his scandal.â
He snapped his fingers. âBingo! And he succeeded, even if it was an impulsive decision on his side. Still, the Prince paid me handsomely because he was desperate, but he hasnât offered me protection like he promised. Iâm being hunted down by the Queenâs goons as we speak. Isnât that why you offered to have me chauffeured here?â
You knew Kuroo prioritized his safety over money due to his current predicament. It was the reason why you risked sneaking out of the Palace and meeting him alone. His terms were clear â no witnesses, no guards, just you and him. You would keep to your word if it meant cornering Iris, but with Atsumu and that poor actress thrown into the mix⊠things just got more complicated.
Reaching out for Kuroo, you squeezed his hand. âYou will be safe with me. I promise you this.â
âThank you, Your Highness.â
You glanced at the iPhone between you two. It wasnât that you didnât trust Kuroo, but now that you know heâd do pretty much anything for money, you couldnât risk it. It wasnât just Atsumuâs reputation you were worried about â firstly, Rintaro would kill him if he found out it was all his doing. Second, that poor actress. She rose to fame in her career recently; this would ruin her image. If things took the wrong turn, who was to stop the Queen from forcing the two to get married if that tape was leaked? You couldnât risk any cracks in your plan.
âKuroo, may I have that phone?â
âItâs all yours if you throw in another five grand, Princess.â
âConsider it mine then.â
You and Kuroo left immediately after everything was settled. Just as promised, you would cover all his travel expenses. He would stay overseas to ensure his protection while he reached out to his connections to get all the information he needed, and once the article was ready, heâd publish it and disappear from the media. You covered that too â he was paid enough to live comfortably while in hiding. Now, you only needed to wait for everything to go according to plan.
First, the downfall of Iris. Next, her separation with Kiyoomi without having to let Rin ascend to the throne. And once sheâs finally out of the picture, youâll move on to your beloved husband. Youâll seduce him, have him fall completely to your whim, make him realize he could never have anyone like you again â and once heâs wrapped around your finger, youâll plea for divorce.
A heart for a heart. A marriage for a marriage.
And if the odds play into your favor at the end of it all, thereâs only one destination in mind: Kiyoomiâs farmhouse in Itachiyama.
You smiled to yourself â it would work out. You had a good feeling about it. Kiyoomi is supporting you and acting as your spy, Kita is backing you up on the grounds for divorce, and the nation has unwaveringly showed their support for you in these trying times. After all, you were just the poor, neglected wife. They expected you to spend your days crying and chasing after your deceitful husband, or to simply take it all â be silent and smile for the cameras.
Fuck what the Queen said. You wonât let her win.
Driving back to the Palace, you glanced at the time. Itâs almost four in the morning, and soon, Her Majesty would be beginning her routine and expecting her daily calls from the Princes. Pressing harder on the gas, you sped up until a glint catches your eye. You glance at the rearview mirror, eyes widening at the fast approaching car from behind â a sleek, black car with the royal familyâs crest on it. Shit. But â it couldnât be the royal guards. Youâd made sure no one would see you, and Airi had gotten your note to slip some sleeping pills into Rintaroâs tea so you could sneak out. Kiyoomi was informed of your plans, too, and heâd reassured heâd hold the fort down while you dealt with Kuroo.
Unless Iris had snooped through his phone and found everything out, then â
You wasted no time. You drove faster, reaching for the gun in your glove compartment as the roaring of the car behind you moved in closer and closer. Heart pounding in your chest, you speed-dialed Kiyoomi, praying to any God who was listening that he would pick up. It couldnât be Iris, it shouldnât be her. God forbid she does anything to provoke you into pulling the trigger.
Infidelity was one thing, but the murder of a royal family member was not something one could merely frown at. You didnât want to be thrown into jail.
The call did not push through.
âFuck!â you slammed your feet on the gas, watching as the car sped up even more until it was now next to you. You were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but the mammoth of trees and a never ending road with darkness clouding the path. Just then, the windows rolled down, and you waited with bated breath as the face finally came into view.
Dark hair was the first thing you saw. The windows rolled down, down, down, until you were staring deep into your husbandâs eyes. Brow cocked, he smirked, raising the phone to show heâd been calling you â thatâs why you couldnât call Kiyoomi. Suna was interrupting the line. Shit, how was he even awake right now?
Moreover, how did he find you?
You scowled to yourself. There was no outrunning him now. Suna was a ridiculously good driver, and there was no way you would ever use a gun on him. Steeling yourself, you forced yourself to regulate your breathing â your efforts boon when Suna suddenly pressed on forward until he was a feet away from you, maneuvered his car with the hood facing your direction, and then just â stopped.
Bracing your hands on the wheel, you forced all your energy to release its power on the slamming of your brakes. The skidding of your car squeaked for what seemed like minutes until finally â finally â your came to a halt. You were breathing hard, the back of your head aching from the impact of it crashing to the headrest. Meanwhile, Suna opened his car doors in slow, languid movements, the ends of his leather black trench coat hitting the pavement. With nothing but the headlights of his car illuminating him, he looked more like an omen of death than a Prince â dressed in a white turtleneck, black pants, and a long coat that highlighted his tall figure. He looked ominous, like he carried sorrow and pain with him â pain that he was about to make you feel.
Because you knew â of course you knew; you knew him better than anyone â that the placid smile he wore was anything but.
He slammed the car doors shut. Leaning against the hood, Sunaâs gloved hands reached for a lighter in his pocket as he lit his cigarette, the stick hanging from between his lips. As soon as it flickered, he pocketed the lighter back, using two of his fingers to make a âcome hitherâ gesture at you.
Clearly, you spoke too early. The odds were not in your favor.
You exited your vehicle, hands gripping the edges of the door as you gathered to courage to take one more step towards him. It wasnât that you were afraid â he wouldnât hurt you, not really. But too much could be taken away from you in such little time â Kuroo couldnât have gone far, and Atsumuâs sex tape was still in the backseat. You didnât trust Rintaro to not ruin your plans. And you wouldnât let him, not now when you were so close to victory.
One step, two steps, three steps â your heels clicked against the road as you walked, making sure to keep your chin pointed north. Hips swaying to the side, you finally ended up before him â right between his spread legs â your husband leaning back at the hood of his car whilst he sized you up, his free hand resting behind him.
âFunny seeing you here,â he drawled out, his voice thick with barely-held back rage. âThey told me you were sleeping, but last time I checked, driving while falling asleep was illegal.â
âCheating is also illegal.â
âYour comebacks are getting old, my love.â
Your head snapped to his direction. He hadnât called you that in forever, not since youâd returned from your honeymoon. To have him call you that now, with such a deeply rich, smooth voice and sounding like heâd just woken up, all breathy and rasp â could it be possible to fuck someone to death?
âWhat are you doing here?â
âI could ask you the same thing,â tipping his head to the side, Sunaâs lips slowly formed into a smirk. He took a drag of his cigarette, keeping his eyes on yours as he wrapped those lips around the stick â delicately and tantalizingly slow â just like how he did when he worshipped you in bed. You breathed out hard and attempted to take a step back, but he was having none of it. Swiftly, heâd tugged on your shirt to pull you close to him, causing you to stumble and fall into his lap. Above you, your husbandâs chest rumbled with amusement.
âLook at you. Always so weak for me.â
He leaned in close, his scent of smoke and expensive woodsy perfume enveloping you. Itâs addicting, just as he is, and your knees grew weak. Your legs slid down just as Suna wraps a strong arm around your waist to hitch you back in place, your core resting above his thigh. There, he spreads you open with just his knees, his warm lips suddenly attaching themselves to your neck. You gasped out, hands falling to his shoulders in a measly attempt to pull him away â and oh.
Suna had different plans in mind.
âYou,â he breathed in your ear, his gloved fingers popping the button of your blouse one by one. âcannot get rid of me that easily, Your Highness. You can slip in as many drugs you want in my drinks, you can kill me a hundred times and fuck me over again and again, but donât you dare forget,â growling lowly in your ear, your husband took your chin in his hands and forced you to gaze deep into his eyes â pools of hazel swirling with need and wrath â âNot even death can do us part. Iâll keep on looking for you even if you try to hide at the ends of the earth.â
#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarou x reader#suna x you#kiyoomi x reader#kiyoomi x reader smut#kiyoomi smut#sakusa kiyoomi smut#kiyoomi x you smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#suna x reader angst#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#rintaro suna x reader#suna rintaro x you
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hat trick!
the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.
summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, itâs a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.
this a part of the man of the match universe
genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot
wordcount: 5,616
pairing: mingyu x afab!reader
warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)
author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.
Mingyu is pissed. Heâs absolutely fucking livid.
This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.
Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time heâs going to really give them a reason for a red card.
Any other day heâd probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isnât any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season â it was the Korean FA Cup final.
The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing â while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheolâs no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.
Mingyuâs never been a better football player. Which is why heâs unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and theyâre down 0-2.
Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.
âExcuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,â comes a light voice, parting the crowd.
There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a âhey tiny!â from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.
Itâs his girlfriend. Itâs you.
Your presence at the game is no anomaly. Youâre pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you canât play football for shit and youâre always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.
Everyone on the Diamondsâ side knows you â from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. Youâve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.
Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is youâre trying to pull.
âIâm soooorry,â you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.
Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.
The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyuâs eyes. Hoshiâs head pops out next to him shortly after.
âI donât have to tell you anything, Iâm sure," Seungcheol starts, âBut youâve got 10 minutes, Gyu.â
âTiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?â comes Hoshiâs laugh.
Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.
You canât help the giggle that bubbles out, âAye aye captain!â
You donât have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says âSkirt up, pretty.â
He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.
When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. Youâre still rolling your underwear down your legs. Theyâre a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. Itâs okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.
âUh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.â
Mingyuâs agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. Heâs been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.
He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isnât lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.
On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.
With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.
He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. Heâs pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick thatâs seeping between your lips. Youâre almost jealous. Thatâs your job.
Once heâs satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared heâll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. Itâs almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.
So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes aâ
âDaddyyyyyyyy!â
Fuck there it is.
Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.
He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.
Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. Youâre addicted and so is he.
Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.
He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.
Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when heâs on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.
He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.
Youâre soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself.Â
So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.
âDâyou play with yourself at all, sweetheart?â He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.
âHuh?â comes your confused response.
âI asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?â He answers meanly.
You flush. Itâs like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.
But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.
You suppose thatâs partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.
âJust a littleââ
He clicks his tongue, âHow many fingers dâyou use?â
âJust two daddy, a-and I stopped!â you cry almost petulantly.
âYeah, baby? Whyâd you stop?â
âBecause it was no good!â You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.
He grins. Itâs brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, âThats right. Two of my dumb babyâs fingers are nothing on daddyâs cock,â and pushes into you.
Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.
You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.
But you understand. Youâre his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever heâs inside you but itâs okay. Itâs better than okay.Â
You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.
His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you canât help but follow his gaze. Itâs absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.
âLook at my little pussy,â he starts, âmy perfect little hole. My babyâs little cunt was made for me.â
Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that heâs literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.
You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.
âDaddyâs running out of time, baby,â he says, âso be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?â
You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head.Â
âWords, princess. I need words.â
You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but youâre feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyuâs pulling from you.Â
Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, âMy dumb baby,â he coos, âlook so pretty when youâre crying on my cock. Thatâs my pretty baby, daddyâs almost there. Keep being good for me, mâkay?â
He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.
Mingyu pulls you into a kiss thatâs all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy.Â
It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.
âDaaaaddy!â Itâs loud and keening and youâre sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.
But itâs all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, heâs spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.
Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.
When he pulls away and meets your eyes thereâs a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.
âSee baby, if youâd been good, Iâd have made you come.â
âB-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!â He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.
Youâre looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyuâs eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.
Itâs a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.
âBeing good means not touching what belongs to daddy when heâs not there.â
All you can do is huff. Heâs right.
Youâre trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamondsâ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.
Itâs your underwear.
âGimme!â You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and itâs impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace
âI think Iâll keep this one for now,â he starts, âThink of it as a lucky charm.â
He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.
âIf you want to be good for daddy tonight, youâll keep all my cum inside of you, wonât you?â He says sweetly, talking you through the idea heâs suddenly come up with, âthen daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.â
After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheolâs initial 10 minute deadline.
You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You donât miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.
âGood luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.â You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.
The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, âOKAY! LETâS GO!â from Hoshi.
You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, âTiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.â
You head off to where Hoshiâs girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammatesâ exchange.
âYou ready to show them up, rockstar?â Is Hoshiâs jest.
Mingyu can only laugh and say, âFuck you.â
And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why heâs one of South Koreaâs most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.
You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.
Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does.Â
At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamondsâ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.
âThey can still equalize, Iâm sure of it,â you hear Hoshiâs girlfriend from beside you, âAs long as Soonyoung doesnât fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.â
You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.
Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like theyâre ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.
The majority of the players are crowded around the opponentsâ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite sideâs players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.
Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamondsâ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal.Â
But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like heâs dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyuâs right foot to take a third goal.
Hat trick.
Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isnât decided and it falls down to each teamâs five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.
Hoshiâs girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeperâs reach in a split second.
The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwanâs attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.
This all falls down to their captain.
Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown.Â
The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.
The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. Sheâs running across the pitch to jump into Hoshiâs arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.
Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when youâre reminded of gravity.
The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didnât even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyuâs own underwear.Â
You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.
Youâd only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.
God, you needed to suck his cock.Â
Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice heâs gone.
Thatâs how you end up in the teamâs main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyuâs locker and choking on his cock.
âThatâs right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,â is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.
Youâre transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you donât have to look away from the sight in front of you.
Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match heâd just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. Heâd popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.
He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.
Thereâs no need to preface anything because in no time youâre gagging on him. It doesnât take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.
âYou can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!â You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.
âI know baby,â he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs.Â
He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, âtongue out, my filthy girl.â
Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.
He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.
Youâre a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now heâs sure heâs molded himself into your throat the same way heâs made your pussy perfect for only him.
âMy perfect girlâs got the most perfect mouth, huh?â Heâs holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, âThe filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dadâs cock.â
The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you canât say anything but youâre happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you donât want to stop until heâs pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.
You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, âDaddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?â
Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.
He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth.Â
Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.
âAtta girl.â
You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. Youâre the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but thereâs only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, youâre feeling unnecessarily bratty.
âBaby,â Mingyu starts. Youâre some fifteen minutes away from his house and heâs about to get into it now?
âMm,â is your petulant response.
âListen to me,â he warns.
But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.
âDonâ wanna.â
From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.
âDidnât daddy fill you up, today?â He says as more of a statement.
âHe did.â
âDidnât daddy feed you his come, princess?â
You start to flush, âHe did.â
âAnd then didnât daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?â
Heâs pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.
âHe did,â you answer.
He parks and turns to you, âThen you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.â
Youâve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.
âDaddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.â
Thereâs buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.
âOf course, daddy.â
It starts with your good intentions, really.
You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.
You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.
To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once heâd settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.
You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.
You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, âI love you daddy, Iâm so happy for you.â
âI love you too, baby. Iâm happy I made you happy,â was his simple response.
You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.
The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.
He couldnât keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of âDaddy, daddy, daddyâ made his head spin.
But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.
Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddyâs tired is futile when you finally cry out.
âBut daddyyyyy,â comes the high pitched whine, âIâM TIRED TOO. Donât you feel bad for your baby?â
And he breaks at that.
He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.
The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.
He loves this. Itâs fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.
Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.
He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.
But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.
âYouâll give me this, right, baby?â He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how heâs making your body tick, âBe my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.â
You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily.Â
Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.
With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.
âFuck, look at you,â he says all too breathless, âSo fucking perfect.â The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry â what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.
âMy perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isnât that right. Fuck.â Heâs losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.
He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.
What a day itâs been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his championâs medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.
He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word âdaddyâ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.
Mingyu doesnât pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows youâll complain about them tomorrow.
He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.
After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles.Â
Mingyu canât help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.
-`âźÂŽ- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!
#frizzy fiction#seventeen smut#svt smut#mingyu smut#mingyu x reader#mingyu imagines#mingyu scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#au: man of the match
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save a horse, ride a cowboy
wc: 3.3k
pairing: haechan x fem!reader
cw: smut, bf!haechan, non idol au, alcohol consumption, switch!haechan, switch!reader, praising, teasing, oral sex (receiving), fingering, brief sensory deprivation, riding/cowgirl, dirty talk, pet names, marking, creampie, unprotected sex, small mention of other idols, small mention of aftercare
song inspo: tyrant, sweet â
honey â
buckiinâ, and riiverdance by beyoncĂ©
a/n: i've been listening to cowboy carter nonstop ever since it dropped, gaining a shit ton of inspiration lmao. happy reading! đ€
You tap your boot along to the beat of the song, creating a soft thud on the wooden planks below you. The bar hums with activity, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and sawdust mixed with the aroma of sizzling food and spilled beer.
Lanterns flicker overhead, casting dancing shadows across the room as patrons swirled around the wooden dance floor, their boots drumming out rhythms as they engaged in lively line dancing, their laughter mingling with the twang of guitars and the thump of the bass.
"Anytime today, Hyuck," you sigh, resting your chin on the end of your cue stick while you wait for Haechan to make his move.
"I'm thinking," Haechan says, his hand on his hip as he surveys the pool table. The warm glow of overhead lights illuminates the green-felt surface of the pool table you've been occupying for the better part of an hour.
Haechan's gaze is intense, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he calculates each shot. His fingers trace the edge of his cue stick, the wood worn smooth from years of use. Haechan leans over the table, his movements fluid as he lines up his shot.
The sharp crack of the cue ball fills the air as he strikes, the 5 ball nearly making it into the pocket but hitting the edge of the table instead, causing Haechan to curse under his breath.
You smirk, rounding the table to Haechan's side, confidence oozing from your pores, "Excuse me," you lean over the table.
You eye the remaining balls with a grin, your mind already calculating the perfect angle for your next shot. With a smooth stroke, you send both the 11 and 8 balls careening into the corner pocket, sealing your victory.
"That makes it what now, 3-1," you tease, savoring the taste of triumph.Â
Haechan hadn't really been paying attention to your game-winning strike, too distracted by you leaning over in front of him, especially in this outfit.
"You know, maybe if you weren't too busy staring at my ass, you'd have a fair chance at winning."
"Not my fault your ass looks amazing in these pants," Haechan smirks, stepping forward and pressing his body flush against yours.
The scent of whiskey and cologne clouds your senses as you refuse to back down and look away even under the immense weight of his heavy stare.Â
"HeyâOh I'm definitely interrupting something," Michelle said, breaking the tension between the two of you.Â
"Just me running Hyuck's pockets dry," You break the eye contact, looking over at your friend.
"So nothing new then," Michelle waves off, "Well Yangyang lost in darts, so the next round's on him," she informs you both.
"Say less," You slip from between Haechan and the pool table.Â
Haechan closely follows behind you as you join your friends gathered around the table.Â
"To victory and defeat," Renjun teases Yangyang, causing the younger to flip him off as he downed the shot.Â
"To victory and defeat!" the group echoed, clinking their glasses together before tossing back the fiery liquid and slamming them down on the table.Â
"So," You wince, letting the slight burn of the alcohol pass, "Wanna go another round?" you ask Haechan.Â
"So you can take more of my money? No thank you," he says, setting his glass down beside yours.Â
"Booo you're no fun," you scoff.
Haechan's lips curled into a sly grin, "How about something that gives a more fair chance of either of us winning."
"Like...?"
Haechan's eyes scanned the room before landing on the rowdy patrons lined up for their turn on the mechanical bull, its metal frame gleaming under the dim lights. Cheers and laughter erupted as riders attempted to last longer than the previous one, their determination matched only by the wild gyrations of the mechanical contraption.
"The mechanical bull."
You accept the challenge with a smirk, eager to prove your skills once again.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "And why would I lose?" With a playful tug, you snatched Haechan's hat from his head and plopped it on your own.
Haechan chuckles, his gaze trailing after the hat. "Because, sweetheart, if you've forgotten, you're about as graceful as a newborn calf," he says.
A grin spreads across your face as you adjust the hat, determined to prove him wrong. "Oh, baby, don't be so sure you know everthing. I've got moves you've yet to see," you counter, your competitive spirit ignited.
"You sure this hat isn't too small for your big head?" Haechan teases, flicking the brim of the hat on your head.
"Oh I'm sure. Unless you're scared to prove me right."
"I just don't want your ego to be bruised when you're proven wrong," Haechan says.
"Okay, how much you wanna bet?" you ask.
"How about we make this a little more interesting?" he proposes, his tone suggestive.
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. "And what's more interesting than money?" you inquire, a mischievous smile on your lips.
"If you win, I'll go home with you tonight and we can do whatever you want," he leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, "If I win, you'll come over to mine, and I get to do whatever I want to you," he says.
A chill runs down your spine as Haechan speaks these words in your ear. You swallow hard, trying not to make it evident how excited you are by his words.Â
"You're on, Hyuck."
"May the best rider win," he holds out his hand for you to shake.
As Haechan rose from his seat, a determined glint in his eyes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. He ventured toward the mechanical beast, his confident stride drawing the attention of both you and your friends. With a smirk, you leaned over to the rest of the table, informing them of the bet you had made with Haechan, leaving out a few of the more intimate details to spare their ears.
"How long do you think he'll last?" Dosie questions as she sat up in her seat to get a better view.
Mark turns in his spot, his eyes trained on Haechan as he mounts the mechanical bull. "I'll give him 10, maybe 15 seconds," he wagers, a playful grin spreading across his face.
As the mechanical bull bucked and swayed, Haechan surprised everyone by lasting longer than 15 seconds, though he was ultimately thrown off before reaching the 20-second mark, much to Yuta's amusement as he operated the machine.
"Have fun trying to beat that, babe," Haechan calls out confidently as he approaches you, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Have fun watching me," you wink as you stand to your feet, accepting the challenge laid before you. Â
Haechan switches places with you, his gaze fixated on your swaying hips as you walk away from the table. He watches you pass the pen, heading toward the DJ's booth where Johnny stands, whispering something in his ear. You exchange a knowing smile with Haechan from across the bar, a silent understanding passing between you as you prepare to take on the challenge.
As the music changes, signaling the start of your ride, you mount the mechanical bull with ease, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Once you have your balance, you let go of the reins and let the beat of the music flow through your body, trusting your hips to follow the movements of the machine to keep you upright.
Haechan watches you intently as you effortlessly command the bull, practically hypnotizing him as your hips move in sync with the music, and you make it look like the easiest thing ever.
"Tyrant every time I ride it, every time I ride it. Make it look so good-"Â The lyrics of the song ring out in Haechan's ears as he's unable to tear his eyes away from you.
Haechan's throat feels dry and can feel his cock stirring in his pants, watching you. His mind races, quickly disregarding any repercussions of the bet, wanting to take you home as the desire to have him be the one you're on top of grows with each whine of your waist.
The intensity of the ride increases, and you grab onto your hat, ensuring it stays firmly in place as you continue to ride with no hands, determined to prove a point to Haechan, all the while completely unaware of the turmoil you're subjecting him to.
But as your legs began to tire, you knew it was time to gracefully dismount the bull, bouncing on the airy cushion below before being helped up by Yuta.
"And we have a new record setter!" Johnny announces, causing the bar to erupt into cheers, the crowd raising their drinks in salute.Â
"Hey, you have a bit of drool, just right there," Kelcee teases Haechan as he still hasn't picked up his jaw.
Returning to the table victorious, you share a triumphant smile with Haechan, "This now makes it 4-1," you declare, downing the free shot Taeyong had brought to your table.
"We're leaving now," Haechan says.
"Why?" you ask.
"Cause I almost just came in my pants," he admits.
. . .
The entry to your house was heated, as Haechan couldn't wait another second after you got the key in the door. His hands were all over you, desperate to get your clothes off as you both almost trip over your feet, kicking off your boots.
"You're so impatient, baby. What's everyone gonna think of us just leaving so abruptly?" you ask.
"I don't give a fuck," Haechan reaches for your waist, pulling you close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin, "I need you now." he pants against your lips.
You circle your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Haechan's hands on your hips travel lower, cupping your ass through your leather pants, making you groan into his mouth.
He grabs the back of your thighs, hoisting you into the air, making you yelp in surprise when you feel the ground no longer beneath your feet.
Haechan blindly navigates through your house, bringing you both to the bedroom, slightly knocking into pieces of furniture on the way there. You hop out of his arms when he nears the bed and push him down onto the mattress.
Sitting back on his hands, Haechan watches as you begin to undo the strings of your top, revealing the tops of your breasts.
You can tell he's already growing impatient, nibbling on his bottom lip and bouncing his leg, becoming more fidgety.
"Would you like to do the honors?" you drop your arms to your sides, and without missing a beat, Haechan drops to his knees in front of you. He swiftly undoes your belt, flinging somewhere in the room before making quick work of your pants, pulling the leather down your legs, allowing you to step out of them.
You softly run your fingers through Haechan's hair as he begins kissing his way up your legs. His hands snake up the sides of your legs, pulling you closer as he reaches the apex of your thigh.
"Can I?" he asks, looking up at you with desperation in his eyes.
"Go ahead, my love," you nod at him.
Haechan doesn't break eye contact as he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, slowly dragging them down your legs. He licks his lips, circling an arm around one of your thighs, pulling you closer to his face.
You sensually hum, letting your head fall back as Haechan's tongue laps at your folds. His eyes flick up to your face, watching as you lose yourself and begin rocking your hips against his mouth.
"Mhm, that's it, baby," you moan.
Haechan smirks before he catches your clit between his lips, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Hyuck," you gasp, roughly tugging at his roots.
You mewl, feeling your knees becoming weak. But Haechan holding your hips helps you stay upright. He starts shifting in his place on the floor, his cock straining against his pants as he eats you out. Your eyes roll back, the warmth blooming in your lower stomach. Haechan shoves his face further between your legs, his tongue working tirelessly against your pulsing clit.
"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," you tell him.
A muffled whimper can be heard from the man before you, desperate to taste all of you. Haechan's fingers reach your entrance, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.
"Yes, yes, right there," you sigh.
Haechan groans when you roughly pull on his hair, tugging his head back. Your eyes meet your boyfriend's wide, lustful ones, seeing the lower half of his face glistening with your juices in the dim lighting of your bedroom.
You grab the collar of his shirt, getting him to stand to his full height, and crash your lips into his. You swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips, tasting yourself when you slip your tongue into his mouth.
You begin unbuttoning his shirt as he undoes the buckle of his belt, letting it clunk to the floor, before kicking off his pants along with his underwear.
With the strings of your vest untied, Haechan pushes the leather off your shoulders, finally getting you fully undressed as he pulls you down onto the bed with him, seating you in his lap.
A soft groan slips from Haechan's lips when you roll your hips into his, and you feel his cock growing more and more erect with each gyration of your hips. You trail kisses down his neck, softly sinking your teeth into his skin.
You push Haechan back onto the pillows, brushing your hair out of the way as it falls into his face.
"So," you start as you reach over to your nightstand, "Remember the part when you said if I win, we get to do whatever I want," you remind him, revealing the blindfold in your hand.
"Oh god," Haechan rolls his eyes.
"What, you said you trust me," you sit back with a pout.
"I do," Haechan sits up, hugging you closer, "I just hate the idea of not being able to see you," now he has a pout on his face, "I love nothing more than watching your face completely melt with bliss as I make you cum on my cock," his fingers dig into your skin, "But of course for you, my love, I'll do anything."
"We don't have t-"
"I want to. Just let me look at you a little longer first," Haechan tucks your hair behind your ear, admiring your features.
You press a kiss to his lips, "Alright, pretty boy," you tie the scarf behind his head, making sure not to get his hair caught in the knot. "You ready?"
"Do your worst," he says with a snarky grin, laying back with his hands behind his head.
"Okay," You lined his cock up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his length, "Just relax for me, babe."
"Fuck," Haechan draws out, reveling in the feeling of you wrapped around him.
"God, you fill me up so good, Hyuck," you begin to rock your hips.
His hands reach out for you but he stops himself. "Can I touch you?"
"Hmm, not yet," you say, "Just sit there and take it like a good boy," you kiss the corner of his mouth.
Haechan whimpers and bucks his hips up into yours, balling his fists to restrain himself. You flatten your feet on the bed, giving yourself more leverage. Each time you lower yourself, you feel the tip of his cock reaching the deepest parts of you.
Haechan tries to keep himself from moving too much but fails miserably, too drunk off the feeling of your warm, wet walls, hugging his length with a vice grip.
"Pleaseâfuckâplease, you feel so fucking good," he squirms beneath you, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Yeah, is this what you wanted?" you let your knees fall on either side of his waist, slowing down your movements, "Couldn't stop yourself from hoping I'd ride you as well as that mechanical bull, huh, pretty boy?"
His breath hitches in his throat, "Mhm..."
"Maybe you knew you'd lose, and knew you'd get exactly what you wanted anyway."
Haechan laughs, "It may have crossed my mind."
You pull the blindfold from over his eyes, and Haechan blinks his vision into focus, staring up at you.
"God, you got me so fucking weak," Haechan sighs, bringing a smile to your face.
"Come here," you jut your chin toward him.
Haechan sits up, wrapping his arms around and crashing his lips into yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. Haechan's lips muffle your moans, holding your hips and directing your movements.
"Fuck, I wanna cum so bad," he says.
"What makes you think you deserve to?" you tease.
Mischief gleams in your boyfriend's eyes as he holds your waist, bringing you both closer to the edge of the bed. He grabs your ankles, directing your feet to flatten on the bed on either side of him. With the extra leverage, you're able to move more fluidly and curl your arm around Haechan's neck as you ride him.
"Oh my god, hyuck, you feel so fucking good," you whine.
"That's right, sweetheart," he takes hold of your waist, slamming his cock up into you, "Take it like it's yours," he grunts.
You cry out, throwing your head back as Haechan can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies meet, too entranced with the way your sopping heat swallows his cock.
"I feel so close," you say.
"Yeah?" he smirks. He sneaks his hand between your bodies, and a moan rips from your throat as he circles your clit with his thumb.
"Please, Hyuck, oh my god!" your fingernails dig into his shoulder, causing him to his at the temporary pain. "I want you to cum with me."
"Oh I'm right there with you, princess," his voice drops an octave, "Just focus on how good it feels. How much I fill you up over and over again. How your pretty little pussy takes me so well."
"Please, baby, m'close," you slur.
"That's it, sweetheart, yeah," Haechan's jaw clenched, feeling how tight you are right now, "Let me have it all."
Your thighs tremble, and the muscles in your lower stomach contract as you feel the knot inside you snap. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and your vision goes black. You slump against Haechan's chest as his hips continue fucking up into you, your orgasm sending him into his own.
"Fuck," Haechan buries his cock inside you, letting his seed decorate your inner walls.
"Oh my god," was all you could say as you wrapped your arms around Haechan, trying to catch your breath.Â
Haechan tucks his head into the crook of your neck and rubs his hand up and down your back. Soft kisses against the side of your throat bring you out of your haze, and you lift your head to meet Haechan's eyes.
"That wasâŠ"Â
"Yeah, it was," you both laugh.
"Are you alright?" he asks, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs.Â
"Yeah, I'm just already feeling it in my legs," you tell him, hissing from the discomfort in your limbs.Â
You attempt to stand, almost falling to the floor if it weren't for Haechan grabbing your waist and seating you back on the bed.
"How about you stay here, and I get you cleaned up. I have a feeling you're gonna be having some difficulty getting around for the next few days," Haechan chuckles.
"It was totally worth it," you reply.
a/n: i feel like itâs been so long since iâve put something out and im so sorry for that đŁ but iâve missed yâall and iâve missed writing. i canât promise my next story will be out soon but iâll definitely be putting some more stuff out later on in the year. i love you all and thank you for reading <33 feedback is appreciated!!
#nct#nct dream#nct 127#haechan#nct haechan#haechan lee#nct smut#haechan smut#lee haechan#nct x reader#lee donghyuck#lee donghyuck smut#nct x you#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream x reader#haechan x you#haechan x reader#nct imagines#nct dream imagines#nct scenarios#nct dream scenarios#kpop imagines#nct 127 imagines#smut#haechan scenarios#00 line smut#haechan imagines#kpop scenarios
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To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7
Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours
Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader
Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn
Summary:Â Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.
Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.
Word Count:Â 4,463
Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM
A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.
Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six
Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nelâs flight leaves a half hour before Yuriâs gets in at the same airport.Â
But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like youâve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories youâve both made.Â
Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nelâs hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really.Â
He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you donât. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.
The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next.Â
Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together.Â
Thereâs a lump forming in your throat that youâre trying to swallow. Itâs thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you canât get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.
Painful doesnât even begin to describe this feeling.Â
As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. Youâre trying your best to blink them away, but you wonât be seeing him until winter break, and even then, thatâll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.
It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if itâs only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when youâre in the middle of it.Â
Funny how the concept of temporary doesnât make the gash in your heart open any less.
You donât want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you.Â
You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.
But he canât.Â
You reach his gate and before you know it, his flightâs being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow.Â
Maybe theyâll create a little lake in the hole heâs leaving you with. Thereâs certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.
Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.
âI love you so much,â he says. You donât see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, âItâs not forever, itâs just for now.âÂ
He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later.Â
Theyâve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations.Â
âJust for now,â you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake.Â
It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. âI love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.â
He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. Youâre going to miss seeing that smile in person.
Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. âItâs always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but Iâll manage.â Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and youâre pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. âI promise Iâll message as soon as I can. And Iâd wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.â
The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You donât want him to go. He doesnât want to go.
But he has too.Â
You separate only enough to kiss. Itâs messy and wet and gross, but you donât care. Itâs the last one youâll have for a while and you never want it to end.Â
But it does.Â
Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.
You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you.Â
You wave, mouthing âI love you.â
He mouths âI love youâ right back, and turns the corner.
You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking fiveâokay tenâminutes to violently sob in the bathroom.Â
She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed.Â
âItâs okay Sweets, youâll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,â she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.
They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.
You hate goodbyes.Â
But Yuriâs seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that wonât stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream.Â
Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesnât hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation.Â
The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. âShit personality and even shittier sexâ according to Yuri. No consultation needed.Â
But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. Heâs a Count of something she canât remember but in her words, âbig heart and even bigger dick.âÂ
That makes you giggle. And youâre happy for her.Â
âBitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think Iâm in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and Iâd still say thank you afterwards,â sheâs rambling at this point and youâre mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it.Â
You, on the other hand, donât mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now.Â
You donât want to start crying all over again. By the morning youâll be fine, youâll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, itâs a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.
So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasnât been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her.Â
You love her for it. For this.Â
For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.
You really fucking hate goodbyes.Â
Youâre staring at him.Â
Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him.Â
And Jungkookâs pretending he doesnât notice.
Youâre sitting in your chair and heâs back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screenâs filled with this week's newly assigned âStudio Portrait Techniques 1â homework.Â
His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.
His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.
And youâre staring at him.Â
Heâs hoping itâs because this is the first time youâve seen him since Nel left.Â
But itâs probably to do with the fact that he hasnât looked at you once today. Or the fact that heâs barely spoken at all when he usually canât seem to shut up when itâs been more than 48 hours since he last saw you.Â
Because itâs also the first time heâs seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasnât Adaline.
âYouâre acting weird,â you say.
âNo Iâm not,â he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.
Yes he is. He really, totally is.Â
âYes you are, you won't look at me and youâve barely said two words since I got here.â Well your knack for observancy is still intact.
Normally that's a good thing, but right now?
âDid I do something wrong?â
No. No you didnât.
He did.
He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isnât allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.
And now if he isnât paying the goddamned consequences.Â
After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. Heâd crossed a line he didnât even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.
For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be withâŠ
And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He canât look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted.Â
Wants.
Fuck, heâs in over his head.
Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.
Because you can never know.Â
He canât lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. Itâs not your fault he feels like this.Â
So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.
âNothingâs wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and Iâm planning out all my shoots.â
You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive.Â
âIf you say so,â your tone implying you donât believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesnât hitch, âWhatâs the project?â
âItâs my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. Itâs easy to make things look different when itâs different people being photographed,â he explains.
Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. Heâs glad itâs due in the middle of December because itâs going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit.Â
But thatâs the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a âportraitâ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it.Â
âTo broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,â as his professor would say.
He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box.Â
âOh wow, that is a lot,â you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings donât just happen in a day. âDo you have any ideas yet?â
âYeah! I have them all already, actually,â he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.
- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, âregalâ _|(_*-*)>_. Flag. - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels?Â
âIâm really excited for this project,â he says, âitâs just the prep thatâs going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. Itâs mostly concepts right now.â
You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways.Â
âAdaline going to be your model?â
It doesnât surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework.Â
âActually, I⊠uhhâŠâ he trails off. Jungkookâs trying to get the words out, he is. But theyâre surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat.Â
Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force.Â
It shouldn't be this difficult. It wonât be the first, second or fifth time heâs asked you.
Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.
He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, âI was going to ask you if you would.â
You somehow hear him.Â
âMe?â you look dumbfounded.Â
âYes, you.â Heâs always used you for homework assignments before, so heâs not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because itâs a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater?Â
âBut you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.â
Oh. That makes more sense.Â
But that is one mistake he wonât be making again, because he did ask Adaline.Â
Once.
It was recent, Nel was still here and he didnât want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.
So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.
What he didnât expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best.Â
All he did was click the capture image button when she said too.Â
And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed âugly.â
He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better.Â
So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model.Â
Ever again.
âNah. Youâre a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.â
You snort. âSeriously? Is she that self absorbed?â a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.
Thatâs new.
Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her.Â
But this one? Itâs like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didnât know it was this severe.Â
Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?
It certainly sounds like you donât like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldnât, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.
And if heâs honest, that wouldnât shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that.Â
He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.
âSheâs just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Canât really blame her for that.â
Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, âno, you canât,â placing a splash of pink on a flower.Â
He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back.Â
And the fact that you didnât answer him.Â
Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.
Jungkookâs editing a picture when you stretch.Â
You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study.Â
Theyâre some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and youâve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.
âShots blurry.â
Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. Heâd spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadnât noticed that.
Because itâs not. Itâs perfectly crisp and clear.
When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face.Â
Ah, he knows that look.Â
You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. âPay back for that first day,â you claim.Â
WellâŠ
Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.
âOh, you're right. Thanks,â and he switches to another image.Â
Your grin falters but you recover quickly.
âNo problem.â
See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows howâŠparticular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like âblueâ or âred.â Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of âsub colours.â
âItâs not blue, itâs cerulean,â youâd remark.Â
âThatâs not red, itâs burgundy,â youâd correct him.
Youâre always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But thatâs on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line.Â
Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you.Â
He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But heâs glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.
He gestures to your canvas. âThose pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?âÂ
âTheir common name is Ladyâs Eardrop. And theyâre magenta.â
Hook, line, sinker.Â
He doesnât even have to try, you walk right into it every time.
âLadyâs eardrop? Thatâs a weird nameâŠdo they come in other colours besides pink?â
You donât look up as you reply.Â
âMagenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but theyâre a different type, longer. Not the same as those,â you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta ladyâs eardrop sits in the window.Â
âAnd are these pink ones your favourite?â heâs really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.
âTheyâre. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.â
âNoted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.â
You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.
âThey are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, thereâs more titanium white in pink. That,â you point again, âis very clearly, magenta.â
He has to.Â
He canât help it.Â
Youâre sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.
But also hilarious.Â
âSame difference.â
He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.
âNo, not âsame difference,â theyâre magenta!â
Heâs leaning in. âPink,â eyeing your lips as you speak.Â
You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. âMa-gen-ta.â
Your noses are mere inches from touching.Â
âTheyâre pink, Van Gogh,â he backs off before he does something stupid that heâll regret, âDonât get so invested.â
You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, âTheyâre fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and youâll label them as such around me.â
Youâve always had a mouth on you. One you arenât scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesnât push any farther, knowing heâs already gotten what he wanted and then some.Â
But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.
Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies.Â
Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile thatâs trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.
Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice.Â
But you do, because itâs you. Of course you do.
And the look on your face is priceless.
âYou did that on purpose!â
âWhat?â he says way too high pitched. âNooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.â
He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.
âI was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.â
You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains.Â
âYouâre such a dick,â you quip.
âYet, you like me anyways.â
You mumble something incoherent.
âWhat was that?â
âNothing.â
âAwe, câmon now. Fess up.â
A pause, before, âI said I just remembered I donât know your favourite colour.â
No you most certainly did not, but heâll let it slide.
âBlack.â
âUgh, boring.â
âWhat?â
âBoring,â you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. âAnd technically not a colour. Blackâs a shade.â
Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.
âWhatever, Seurat, itâs still black. What about you? Whatâs Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Coloursâ favorite?â
âItâs still a shade,â you repeat.
âItâs still my favourite. Answer the question,â he presses.Â
You give him an unimpressed stare.Â
âViolet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,â your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as âhis dadâ so casually. âAnd when itâs not that, itâs this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.â
Itâs Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he canât help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.
âWhy two?âÂ
âWhy not?â you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. âDonât you get bored of one colour for too long? Itâs nice to switch things up every now and then.â
His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.
âRed.â
âHmm?â you touch ground.
âIf you wonât accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.â He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one.Â
He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...
But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.
âRedâs a great choice, strong,â you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.
âThanks.â
Thereâs a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.
âWhen do you need me for the shoot?â
Jungkookâs eyebrows find his hairline.Â
That was a yes, right? Youâre saying yes?
âUhmâŠsoon, Iâll let you know the specifics when I do.â
âSounds good.â
He was going to leave it at that, but adds, âThanks, Y/N.â
He hasnât said your name since the assembly.Â
Always nicknames when talking to you. Always.Â
Never your name.Â
Not once in two months. Almost three.
Youâ
An inhale.
YouâŠlike it.
The way it sounds coming from his lips.
Exhale.
Chapter Eight: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries
A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!
A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3
<- Back
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jeongguk#jeon jeongguk#jungkook au#jungkook college au#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#bts#bts imagines#jungkook imagine#bts fic#jungkook x y/n#bts jungkook#jungkook scenario#bts au#bts smut#bts x reader#bts x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts fanfic#jeon jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x oc#jeon jungkook x y/n#yoon writes#TWWWBAATTA
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ËËËê° đ ê± Collegeboy!Gojo CRUSHING on you
Gojo x fem!reader
Contents; fluff, college au
Warnings; suggestive flirting, reader playing hard to get
Note from the author; i'm just in a Gojo state of mind atm lol
Collegeboy!Gojo crushing on you is the most annoying thing in the world đ seriously, he nags you all the time. Pokes and pinches your cheeks so that you're forced to notice him. Gets irrationally upset when you don't pay him 'enough' attention. Crashes your parties. Winks at you. Makes cocky comments about how much you're in love with him when you give him the deadpan look.
He makes it so sorely and blatantly obvious that he likes you â he straight up admits to it on several occasions. Usually in public. Making sure all ears hear his confession loud and clear.
The whole school knows that Gojo Satoru's got his eyes on you, all six of 'em đ€
But when you confront that dummy-sucker about his massive crush on you, he plays it off.
"What? You're one of the bros, don't get the wrong idea lol"
It's tough for you to have the whole student body know about Gojo's craze for you. Because the guys pat his back and encourage him to ask you out on a date, but the girls glare at you down the halls. They're not very happy that their heartthrob Gojo Satoru prefers you over allllll of them.
And Gojo? He loves annoying you to the maximum. The great sigh you heave when he walks into the room, the eye rolls you make when he flirts with you in the corridors. He loves it.
Rolling your eyes is compulsory, because his flirting is so college-boy style.
Of course, he slips in the "I can make your eyes roll harder." line every time. Because. He's. ANNOYING.
"Stop ignoring me!" he pouts and comes up to you during basketball practice.
"Satoru, I'm not ignoring you." you explain, ceasing playing with the ball and holding it in the arch of your arm and hip.
"Yes you are!" he furrows his brows. He's so stubborn it's cute, you want to smile.
"Get lost, Six Eyes. Doesn't a popular boy like you have a date to catch?" you scoff.
He peers over his sunglasses at you.
Those blue eyes of his make you nervous, so you break eye contact the instant it happens; that makes his smugness double.
"The only thing I'm trynna catch is you." he winks, snatching the ball from you in a swift movement.
"Ugh." you laugh at his dorky flirting. "Okay, fine. Score a shot and I'll go out with you."
He smirked. Those spider legs ran towards the hoop, he dribbled it enthusiastically before throwing it â swish. A nicely sunk shot, no touching the rim or backboard at all.
Gojo shot his fist up in victory like the cute dork he was.
"YES! FINALLY! SUGURU, GUESS WHAT!" he yells for his best friend and runs to him.
You just shake your head.
#â„ïž đđđđ đđđđđđ â äșæĄæ#fluff#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo saturo#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojou satoru x you#college au
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return to main menu?
- bakugo katsuki
"what are we?" "...nothing. right?"
convienence. a means to end. that's all this was for both of you right? when katsuki is fed up with the crazed fangirls who just won't leave him alone, he works out a deal with you. it was just coincidence he had a huge crush on you.
to kiss or kill.. a vampire?
you've been a vampire for as long as you can remember. you were going through your day, or night, routine as normal when a noise startles you. a man, katsuki bakugo to be exactly, was standing at your door. though, he can't seem to rember whether he's supposed to kill or kiss you...
I've changed, won't you see?
summary: katsuki ruined your life when you were small, giving you a life altering injury, though getting nothing more than a pat on the back. throughout his successes he can't get you out of his mind, so he sets out to make amends with you.
running out of time, to make you love me.
THE PRINCE'S BALL was to be had on his 18th birthday. the week before, you realize the feelings you have harbored over the years for him. little did you know you were both fighting against the time restraint placed on him.
die for you.
after an attempt on your life, the royal family turns to promising young blood, hoping to find someone to protect you. katsuki was chosen and ended up dedicating himself to you in a way even he never predicted.
excuses, excuses
katsuki had left you, overwhelmed by the situation you two were now tied to. now, when he finally reaches his dreams, he realizes victory doesn't taste as sweet without you.
my first, my last, my everything.
summary: katsuki left that life behind for you. but when the life you two built from scratch together was threatened, what else could he do but go back?
my last, my everything.
ride or die
you'd been partnered up with the hotheaded speed racer, katsuki. who knew he'd end up more interested in you then the races he'd win?
crayons and connections
after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.
*truth bomb! (f,h)
in which a lovesick girl is hit by a truth telling quirk that lasts 7 days.
*serenity (f)
in which a longtime fanboy meets his anime crush in his world.
entranced (f)
through all stages of his life, katsuki was entranced with you.
save me
katsuki has always saved you, his princess.
saved.
awakened
you've been asleep all this time, who knew a barbarian would be the one to awaken you?
death is inevitable, but why you?
summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.
fairy tale.
summary: katsuki's life had been flipped onto its head, who knew some pixie dust was all he needed?
iced out.
"he'll need an ice pack when i'm done with him."
fantasy au's:
dragonking!bkg 2
dragonking!bkg x tinkerbell!reader
barbarian!bakugo 2 3 4
prohero! au:
prohero!bkg 2 3 4
interview but he's down bad 2
preschool!teacher reader
kidnapped!reader
domestic au:
4:25 a.m
family errand running
interview with his daughter
6:21 a.m
mini you.
girldad!katsuki
nanny!reader
random drabbles:
mini me
katsuki thinks it's cute how you adopt his habits, calling you his mini-me.
he's a scaredy-cat.
is he proposing or...?
childhoodfriends
shy!reader
back kissing him</3
nerd!bakugo
physical touch
muscle-kisses
boyfriend!bakugo
only shy to him
racer!katsuki
comfort
the one who got away..
hypotheticals
drawing him
drawing on his hands
makeup on him
-todoroki shoto
*marry me! (f)
in which a royal prince and a witch get married to dethrone the king.
death is inevitable, but why you?
summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.
random drabbles:
is he proposing or...?
-tamaki amajiki
random drabbles:
shy!reader 2
sfw alphabet
timeskip!tamaki
period comfort
-kirishima eijiro
lucky me.
you always seemed to attract bad luck, yet you think your life might be turning around as you reconnect with light itself.
random drabbles:
is he proposing or...?
-midoriya izuku
death is inevitable, but why you?
summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.
random drabbles:
is he proposing or..?
-denki kaminari
random drabbles:
is he proposing or...?
-neito monoma
random drabbles:
shy!reader
-hitoshi shinsou
i'll love you, even from afar.
random drabbles:
period comfort
-touya todoroki (dabi)
better 4 u
summary: touya didn't deserve you, he knew there was someone out there better for you.
#bakugo#bakugo x reader#mha x reader#mha bakugou#my worksâ§ăâ
#bnha#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto x reader#todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki
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double tap â regulus black x reader
all up in your timeline, double tapping, i like, like, hoping that you don't mind, mind, that was 4 weeks old
summary: regulus black and reader have unsaid feelings for each other and regulus decides to make the first move online
warnings: social media au, they all have a good relationship, y/n is portrayed as ariana greenblatt but feel free to imagine anyway you like. also, it's my first time doing it and english is not my first language, hope you guys like it :)
liked by marlsmcknn, prongspotter, rablack and others
yn.yln: night out!
comments:
marlsmcknn: girl give me a chance!!!
âȘyn.yln: anytime!
notsirius: is that my jacket?
âȘyn.yln: oops đ«Ł
prongspotter: wait...have you guys see regulus in the likes?
âȘbartyjr: my boy is finally making a move
âȘitsdorcas: i mean...
âȘnotsirius: bro, you need to try harder than that
âȘyn.yln: đ
liked by prongspotter, notsirius, rablack and others
yn.yln: not that into quidditch but anything for my friends right?
comments:
moonylupin: i only come for the players...
âȘyn.yln: honestly, same!!
âȘnotsirius: playerS? seriously moony?
rablack: bet i could change your mind
âȘrosierevan: omg can't believe you had the balls
âȘbartyjr: i'm so proud!!
âȘmarlsmcknn: i just gasped
âȘprongspotter: sirius come see this!!
âȘjustmary: i wasn't expecting that
liked by bartyjr, rosierevan, yn.yln and others
rablack: victory looks better in green
comments:
lovelypandora: i'm so happy for you reggie!
prongspotter: watch out black, you're playing us next week!
itsdorcas: yesss!!!
bartyjr: slytherin is the best!!!
yn.yln: well, i guess the players are really worth the game đ€
âȘmarlsmcknn: the betrayal!!!
âȘrablack: told you, love đ
âȘnotsirius: i don't think i'm liking this anymore
âȘrosrierevan: wow y/n has game!!
âȘlilyevans: omg...love???
liked by marlsmcknn, justmary, rablack and others
yn.yln: loving the view
comments:
marlsmcknn: giiirl đ
notsirius: wait...who took it?
âȘyn.yln: not you
âȘnotsirius: obviously
moonylupin: is she doing what i think she's doing?
âȘjustmary: definitely
âȘprongspotter: and that would be...?
âȘlilyevans: oh c'mon james
rosierevan: is she talking about regulus???
rablack: you look gorgeous!
âȘbartyjr: tell us, were you her view?
âȘrablack: get lost crouch
liked by yn.yln, notsirius, lovelypandora and others
rablack: elle est le plus bel art!
comments:
bartyjr: you know not everyone speaks french right?
âȘlovelypandora: he said "she is the most beautiful art!", that's so cute reggie!!
lilyevans: i'm so happyyy
notsirius: my little bro is in love, i'm crying, i feel so old watching him all grown up đđ
âȘmoonylupin: oh the drama...
yn.yln: jet' aime, reg!
âȘrablack: je t'aime ma chĂ©rie
âȘprongspotter: wow guess is really oficial now
âȘjustmary: guess it always has been
itsdorcas: can't fight with them on the aesthetic
âȘmarlsmcknn: right? such a poetic soft launch
#marauders#marauders era#regulus black#social media au#slytherin skittles#marauders fandom#regulus black x reader#regulus black x y/n#marauders fanfic#regulus black fanfiction#regulus black fic#regulus black fanfic#marauders fic
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch. 3 returning the favor
á° pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader
á° summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
á° warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
á° chapter. 3/x (probably 12)
á° words. 4.5k
a/n. hope you enjoy! i really had fun incorporating a lot of the other characters in this one.
nav. masterlist
âŸÂ·Ì©Íêł moodboard no.1
âŹ.*ïŸplaylist
|| 9:21AM Gojo Satoru sent you a photo
|| 9:22AM Gojo Satoru: Hereâs our practice schedule for the week. Honestly, itâs better if you come when we do practice games or something, since on other days we just do drills or strength training, but coach doesnât really tell us what weâre doing beforehand so would probs have to play it by ear
|| 9:27AM Gojo Satoru: Oh yeah, weâve got a big game in three weeks on the 28th. Itâll decide if weâre automatically seeded into the top 16 teams bracket, which is really crucial if we want to eventually bring home the championship. Not sure when your assignment is due, but that would be a good official game to come toÂ
|| 9:28AM Gojo Satoru: Let me know as soon as you can if you want to make that game. Iâll have to ask coach to get the referee sign-off for you to be on-field during play at least a week before
You look down at all the messages he was sending you during class on a Monday morning. After he sent you that house party details post from his fraternityâs Instagram page last week, their posts kept popping up in your feed and you saw one this morning with a bunch of the guys in the frat, Gojo included, shotgunning beers until 3AM last night. You marvel at how heâs somehow not hungover beyond repair and is texting you before noon.Â
Pressing and holding on to his messages, you give him little thumbs up reactions and you decide on a heart reaction for the picture he sent you of the practice schedule. Then, you set your phone down and look at the video of the menâs soccer team highlights your professor was playing from the game a week and a half ago.
âHere, here, this right here. Midfielder #24 surveyed the field, spotting #13 making a run for it down the flank. Pinpoint pass to left winger, who starts steering through defenders, but loses the ball. Then, center forward #10 steals the ball back! He steals the ball, he fucking steals the fucking ball back!â Your professor was running back and forth in front of the projector screen, his finger following the movement of the soccer ball in the video. Your heart jumps a beat when Gojo shows up on screen, with his signature #10 jersey, and some people in the lecture hall stand up in excitement with the professor. âBeelines towards the goal, and BAM! Goalie stood no fucking chance, ball sent immaculately into the back of the net. Victory for UTokyo, 2-1, in the last seconds of the game!" Your professor cheers and jumps up and down. Some people cheer with him, others sigh, others are in awe, and some simply clap.Â
Another entire lecture goes by where the professor spends absolutely no time going over film photography theory and instead just talks about how soccer used to be back in his day. You approach him after class, clutching your laptop case to your chest, and itâs only when you clear your throat in front of him that he finally looks up at you from the podium.Â
âOh, y/n, how can I help you?â He asks as he shoves his phone back in his pocket.
âHey, professor. Bit of a request, could I have like two extra days for my assignment? Thereâs this event that I really want to use for the subject matter but itâs the day before the deadline, and I would need some time to develop my photos,â you say in the politest tone you can muster up.
âYeah, sure. Just get it in before the end of the deadline week,â he says nonchalantly. âLooking forward to seeing it. Good work on the last one, by the way.â
You give him a smile and a word of appreciation before turning on your heel and making it up the stairs to exit the lecture hall, pulling your phone out of your tote bag.Â
|| 9:53AM You: i can make it on the 28th. please get that referee permission for me
You press your lips together as you press send, and then type a bit more.
|| 9:54AM You: and thanks a lot
Your stomach is suddenly growling and youâre about to head over to the student hub when your phone starts ringing. You look down at the contact name that says Nobara and pick up.
âHey, Nobie, whatâs up,â you say as you make your way towards the heart of campus, enjoying the light breeze as the sun peeked through the clouds.Â
âWhere are you? Didnât we have a Film Club meeting today?â She asks you, her tone a bit impatient. âWe were supposed to discuss that collaboration with the school newsletter.â
Shoot. You forgot. These days, you were a bit too distracted by recent happenings, like Mina practically falling head-over-heels for a guy that was quite possibly the opposite of her type, the towering amount of class assignments that never seemed to end, and this whole arrangement you were trying to coordinate with Gojo Satoru. The Film Club meeting totally slipped your mind. You were supposed to head out of class a bit early to make it on time. âIâm so sorry, Nobara. I totally forgot about it. Iâm unfortunately all the way on the other end of campus right now. I typed up some notes in the document, can you just run those by them? If we need anything else, Iâll reach out to them by email.âÂ
She sighs on the other end of the line. âYeah. Iâm not good at these conversations, but I guess as President I should be better at them anyways. Iâll let you know how it goes.â And then she hangs up.Â
Mentally happy that you were at least free of one other obligation today, you prepare to make your way to the dining hall when your phone vibrates again.
|| 10:01AM Gojo Satoru: Will do, and sure thing. By the way, you free right now? Coach is having us do a practice game, probably for around 2 hours
You squint your eyes at his message, considering the opportunity. You didnât have any other classes left for the day and were just going to grab something to eat before heading home, but now you wonder if you should make it to this practice session. He did say that you have to be flexible since he doesnât even know exactly what theyâll end up doing before practice, so you figured this might be your only chance this week to practice capturing shots of them as they play, since it seemed like they had Tuesday & Friday off based on Gojoâs schedule picture. Unfortunately, you only brought your digital camera with you today since your film camera was too heavy to carry around unless you knew you needed it, but you can still do a lot with digital that would help for the film camera shoot. You could make it work.
|| 10:05AM You: yeah, iâm free. i was just gonna grab something to eat first, and then iâll head over to the field in maybe 15 min. but iâm not exactly sure how to get onto the field, or where the entrance isâŠ
He adds a heart reaction to your message which startles you a little bit. An accident, maybe?
|| 10:06AM Gojo Satoru: Lol, just meet me at that weird art sculpture they put up last semester. The one that cost like all of our tuition money. Iâll walk you to the field
You let out a sigh, somewhat nervous that you'll be seeing him again soon. The last time you saw Gojo was when you left him standing unceremoniously at the kitchen island with a somewhat offending comment. Nonetheless, he didnât necessarily seem angry at you. Quite the opposite, actually. Heâs been way more helpful than you had ever anticipated. You started to feel like the effort you put into getting Mina to go to that house party was nothing compared to the effort he was putting in for you to ace this assignment.Â
Stopping by your schoolâs mini grocery store, you pick up a sandwich plus some strawberry vanilla soda, and take some bites as well as some sips as you leisurely make your way to the expensive art sculpture near the sports fields. As you get closer to it, you see Gojo from a distance talking to some people. A few of them were guys, a few of them girls, and he was laughing out loud at something one of the girls said. A part of you wonders what itâs like to be adored by so many people.Â
When he spots you at the other side of the cross walk, he doesnât break eye contact with you as heâs hurriedly saying goodbye to the group in front of him. Their heads turn to each other in confusion before turning their attention in your direction as he makes his way over to you.
âHey,â he says as he lightly jogs up to the sidewalk you were standing on. You notice heâs wearing a black long sleeve undershirt with a short-sleeved blue one on top, along with some athletic black shorts and running shoes. When he brushes some of his hair away from where it had fallen near his eyes, your heart skips a beat at his handsome expression. A smile graces his face. âYou ready?â
You nod, swallowing the mouthful of sandwich you didnât realize you had stopped chewing, and follow his lead as the two of you cut across behind the batting cages of the schoolâs softball training area. Your eyes fell to Gojoâs back as he walked on the pavement. His shoulders were broad, shoulder blades pulling the upper half of the fabric of his clothing somewhat taut across as the rest of it freely flowed down to his lean lower back. The long sleeved shirt he wore underneath was pretty loose-fitting, but you could still see the thickness of his muscles. With every step that he took, his calves flexed in a way that made you realize he must really work out.
âWhat are you eating?â He says as he turns around to face you, walking backwards for a few paces as he looks at your hands.
âOh, just a veggie sandwich,â you answer as you hold it up next to your face. âCampus delicacy.â
His smile widens. âAnd what are you drinking?â This time he asks with a bit more curiosity.
âIt's strawberry vanilla soda,â you say as you juggle all of the things you were holding in your arms.Â
âCan I have some?â He asks with a somewhat innocent tone. âThe soda, I mean. Iâve never had that flavor.âÂ
You hesitate, but alas you were a people-pleaser. âSure.âÂ
He halts his movements and so you do too, and he closes the gap between you two in one exaggerated stride. His hand gently pulls the soda bottle out from where it was tucked into your elbow to keep it from falling. You notice the veins on his hand get more defined as he squeezes & twists to release the cap and it sends something akin to a wave of arousal through your body, entirely startling you. But when he brings the bottle up to his lips with his head tipping backwards, drinking directly from it, neck bobbing as he swallows and a single drop trickles down the expanse of his jawline, the arousal directly hits you at your core.Â
âHm,â he licks his lips. âThatâs pretty good.âÂ
Youâre standing there in shock, your grip on your sandwich causing dents in the bread. He dabs the stray droplet of liquid at his chin with the back of his hand and turns around to keep walking ahead, making his way up the stairs onto what looks like a grassy field. It takes you a second to start moving too, and by then you need to do a light jog just to catch up to him.Â
Thereâs a comfortable silence that develops between the two of you and when you glance at Gojo, you notice his eyes are closed and thereâs a serene smile on his face, a gust of wind pushing the hair up out of his forehead and sending the blades of grass dancing across the hilly field. You smile too at the sensation of cool wind on your skin. It was a beautiful day outside with sparkling sunshine and quiet whistling wind.
âCan I ask you something?â You say after contemplating if you should interrupt his somewhat meditative state.Â
âYou can ask me anything,â he easily replies.Â
âWhy are you so willing to help me out with my assignment?âÂ
He turns his head to look at you with a neutral expression. âBecause you did me a favor.âÂ
You sigh. âI knowâŠbut it really wasnât that hard to convince Mina to go to that party. I feel like youâre helping me out way more than I helped you out.â A small ladybug lands on the fabric of your jeans and you marvel at it before it flutters its wings and flies away.
Heâs silent for a second. âHonestly, when you agreed to help me out with Todoâs little crush, which by the way I had to do because I lost a bet, and you mentioned something about terms and conditions in your message,â he starts to say, a brief pause making its way between the sentence as if he was actively trying to relive that first night he was texting you, âI thought you were going to ask for something sexual in return.âÂ
Your mouth drops at his line of thinking, suddenly mortified. Thatâs how your message came across to him? Oh my God, you had to rethink how you texted everyone in your life from now on.
âI mean, werenât you being a little flirty? âMy terms and conditions will come laterâ. Or do I just have some weird sexual brain rot?â His eyes are still on you, his tone way too casual in your opinion for this sudden topic of conversation. You also realize that he thinks having sex with him would be returning you the favor. And then you try not to think about how good he probably is in bed.Â
When you canât think of what to say and just stare at him with wide eyes, he smiles and stretches his arms out in front of him as another gust of wind passes by. âWell, anyways, when you shared what you actually wanted from me and it ended up being a pretty earnest requestâŠletâs just say I was emotionally moved by your dreams and aspirations.â He says that last part somewhat dramatically and you roll your eyes, sending him an annoyed look. âA little disappointed, but nonetheless moved.âÂ
âWow, youâre the type of person that would trade favors for sex?â you ask him with a sneer to your tone.Â
He sends a lazy smirk to you over his shoulder to where youâre trailing behind him now. âNot really, no, canât say Iâve ever done it before,â he says slyly, âprobably wouldâve made an exception for you, though.â And then heâs giving you a wink.
You canât help but blush a little. He was definitely just teasing you, some hobby of his that he does just to constantly get a kick out of the people around him since he knows he just has that much of an effect on them, so you try not to let his words get past your skin to the more vulnerable parts of you. Heâs reading your expression before he speaks up again.
âWeâve already started this little return favor of yours, so no take-backs. Itâs an eye for an eye. Not an eye for an eye and throw some casual sex in there, too.â He makes his way up what seems to be the largest hill across the field and he stops at the top, peering out at whatever was across from it. When you made your way to the top too, your eyes widened as you saw an expanse of flat grassiness covered in orange cones, green land markers, white chalk outlines, and netted goals. Oh, and a lot of men. âAlright, you freaky little photographer. Here are your muses.âÂ
You let out the breath you were holding in and smiled, hands immediately reaching for your digital camera case within your tote bag. A wave of creativity and inspiration hit you as you were finally able to lay your eyes on your subject matter and setting, and you couldnât wait to get started.Â
Gojo makes his way down the hill and you stumble after him. He high-fives a couple of his teammates that were leaving the first wave of practice and makes his way over where the second-wave practice players were stretching on the field and running laps.
âCâmon, Itadori, Iâve seen snails with a more urgent sense of direction than you! Pick up those goddamn knees!â You hear a loud voice from a few feet away from you and flinch, eyeing the scary looking man that had aâŠPomeranian dog in his arms? He was wearing a black athletic jumpsuit and had extremely tinted, thick sunglasses on. His facial hair was a bit jarring and you immediately decided you were scared of him, despite how gently he was petting the little dog cradled in his arms.Â
âThatâs coach Yaga,â Gojo says beside you with a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. âReal nice guy.â
You turn to give him a suspicious look and he just returns it with a wider smile.Â
âHey! Itâs y/n,â you hear a somewhat familiar voice call out and you glance at the direction it came from. You see Geto standing next to Nanami and he whacks his hand against the blonde's chest to get his attention when he makes eye contact with you before jogging over. You see Gojo put his hands in his shorts pockets in your periphery. âWhat are you doing here?âÂ
You give him a shy smile, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. âHere to take some photos.â
âAre you with the school newsletter?â Nanamiâs smooth voice says as he approaches Geto, standing next to him. They both were wearing matching blue tracksuits.Â
âNo, Iâm not. Just here toâŠtake some photos for one of my classes. Itâs for a film photography assignment.â You suddenly wished you were part of the school newsletter committee, so that you could at least provide them with some positive publicity with your photos. You wondered if they would think youâre just using them. As if Gojo could read your mind, he patted Geto harshly on the back and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh.
âHear that, punks? She wants to try and take some nice photos of you lot. Be grateful! Of course, your grotesque appearances cannot simply be fixed by any technology yet known to man,â Gojo says rather loudly, continuing to smack Geto on the back. Geto has a small pitiful smile on his face and Nanami just looks annoyed. You feel lighter somehow, less tense.Â
âOkay, cool, let us know if we can help in any way,â Geto says kindly as he sits down on the grass to continue stretching out his legs. âOh by the way, Satoru, Chosouâs out sick today so you might need to cover for goalie.âÂ
âWhat? Whyâs that fucker always getting sick?â Gojo says as he walks towards one of the duffle bags on the bench, and you assume itâs his. He pulls out a water bottle. âHe needs to stop eating that goddamn grocery store sushi.âÂ
âOh! Oh! Itâs you,â another somewhat familiar voice calls out from ahead. You see a guy wearing a dark blue jacket that had a red hood approaching you from the inner field. Then you recognize he was that guy at the entrance of the house party that called you a- âItâs casual tomboy!âÂ
Your eye twitches slightly as you take in your appearance. Sure, you were wearing jeans again, but your top was somewhat stylish and feminine. He arrives in front of you and notices the digital camera hung at your neck. âHey, whatâs that?â He points directly at your midriff where the camera sat. He almost pokes his finger right through the delicate attachable lens that cost you nearly two months of rent.
âA little rude, Yuuji,â Geto says, grunting as he switches from one stretch to the other.Â
Yuuji gets closer to you to study the camera and you instinctively lean away from him before Gojo is grabbing him by the hood of his jacket and yanking him away from you, Yuujiâs arms flailing out in front of himself in a struggle. âHey, get back to practice. Youâre not allowed to talk to pretty seniors.âÂ
Coach Yaga grunts and crosses his arms from where he stood a few feet away, the tiny pomeranian now barking at his feet. âI never said you could stop running laps, Itadori! Get your ass back out there! Iâll be sending you to recreational soccer for the rest of your freshman year if you donât get your damn head straight!â Gojo lets go of Itadoriâs hood and the poor boy is scrambling across the field to join what seems like the other first-years for their warm-up laps. Coach Yaga turns to you and gives a hmph before vaguely gesturing to you. âMay I know what youâre doing out on my field?â
âCoach!â Gojo says, making his way over to the scary man. He slings his arm around his neck and the man just continues to glare at him through his sunglasses. âSheâs with me today. Photographer y/n will be taking some handsome photographs of you that you can send to your wife, and then maybe your wife will actually want to-â
Coach Yaga puts Gojo in a headlock and Gojoâs instantly tapping on his back to get him to ease up. âI dare you to finish that sentence, boy.â
You let out a small laugh. This was certainly a lively bunch. Nanami approaches you and expresses interest in your camera. You lift it up for him to take a closer look. He pinches his chin between his bent index finger and thumb, as if he was a detective analyzing a crime scene. âI seeâŠso this is a film camera.âÂ
âAhâŠâ you laugh awkwardly. âNo, this is just a digital camera.âÂ
âI seeâŠso this is a digital camera,â he repeats, equally as intrigued.Â
The time eventually comes along where all the players start the practice match. Thereâs obviously not enough players out on the field for full teams on each side, but theyâre split into 1st & 4th years vs. 2nd & 3rd years. You learn that the second wave practice group has the talented players at the top of each of their year groups. Gojo doesnât seem to participate in the practice match despite one team having to omit having a goalie since the coach requested he sit out to watch the plays and make suggestions. Youâre a bit sad you donât get to see him play, but figured youâll have a chance in the future. You take a few snapshots as one of the other first-years, a quiet boy named Megumi, kicks the ball towards the goal that ends up bouncing off the goal frame. You spend some time tweaking the exposure, zoom, and focus until you feel like you have a pretty good idea of the settings youâll need to get some fluid shots.Â
When you look up over the field again, raising your digital camera to your face, you notice Gojo looking at you from across the field where he stood at the sidelines. You both keep your gaze on one another for a couple of seconds, and you boldly lift the camera up to your eye, taking a few snapshots of him. When you pull it away, look down at the results on the small screen, and then glance back up at him, his eyes are slightly wide. Something stirs within you when you remember his words from earlier: I thought you were going to ask for something sexual.
Your mind wanders back to the party from last weekend, and the feeling of him leaning down next to your ear in the kitchen as he said âThanks, I owe you one. Find me later, âkay?â The memory itself made your cheeks feel warm. Did heâŠthink that something was going to happen that night at the party? Probably wouldâve made an exception for youâŠDisappointed, but nonetheless moved. Somewhere in the haziness of your thoughts, you realize that meant that Gojo wouldâve wanted to sleep with you if that was indeed your condition.
When you look to the other side of the field again, Gojoâs eyes are still on you but his handsome face looks a bit troubled, eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly pursed. You couldnât really tell what he was thinking, but for some reason you felt like he could tell what you were. When you raised an eyebrow at him, his face relaxed and he slowly shook his head as if to say it's nothing.Â
Coach Yagaâs sharp whistle cuts through the silent conversation you two were having as he yells, âalright, boys. Practice over! Go stretch yourselves out.âÂ
You quickly stuff your digital camera back into its case and collect your things into your tote bag. In your peripheral vision, Gojoâs making his way over to you and when heâs right next to you, you canât bring yourself to look at him.
âHowâd it go? Get some good shots?â he asks, sounding genuinely interested.
âUm, yeah, I think so.â Youâre still not looking at him, pretending to fiddle with something in your tote bag. He leans down a bit to look at your face more clearly when he notices youâre not meeting his gaze, but you still struggle to make eye contact with him. âIâve gotta go, can you tell the guys I said bye?â And then youâre making your way up the hill.
Thereâs a beat of silence as confusion washes over him from your behavior. âHey, wait, y/n, do you know how to get back to campus?â
You spin to face him when you're at the top of the hill, finally looking him in the eye. Thereâs a concerned expression on his face. âYes, Iâll be fine. Thanks a lot for today. Let me buy you a strawberry vanilla soda sometime, okay?â Flashing him a small smile, you turn around and run down the hill, ignoring the fast beating of your heart.
a/n. thanks a bunch for reading!
âž take me to chapter four!
#anime#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#geto suguru#nanami kento#choso kamo#toji fushiguro#yuji itadori#aoi toudou#sukuna ryomen#yaga masamichi#alternate universe#college#college au#soccer#sports au#fraternity#sorority#tw drinking#partying#romance#smut#fluff#angst#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk smut#series
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KNOCKDOWN
Masterlist Pairing(s):Sukuna x F!Reader, Modern AU
Themes: Suggestive content, profanity, mild violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, OOC, fluff, angst(ish)
Prologue: 1.7k words
The kindergarten playground was a battleground of tiny tempers and unfiltered emotions.
âTHE GIRAFFE IS MINE! AHHHGHHHHH!â
 And no one exemplified this more than Ryomen Sukuna.
Even as a youngster, Sukuna was a formidable presence. He constantly found himself in trouble, getting into conflicts with peers and receiving harsh rebukes from teachers who were unable to tame his unruly nature.
"I apologize for hitting Tanaka's balls, I will do it againâŠ"He trails off.
"Sukuna!"
"Alright! I won't! Tsk, adults."
In the sandbox one day, Sukuna noticed two boys your age standing near you, whose names he didn't care to remember. Their pushing and teasing was causing you to cower in fear from their cruel words. You hastily use your arm to wipe away your tears and snot, wishing they'd go away.
âI juz wanâ play here! I was here first! Lemme be!â You yell.Â
âYou're a girl! You can't tell us what to do!â Sukuna's usual urge for fights found a new purpose.Â
âI'm not a bad boy if I'm helping someone, heh.â He thinks to himself.Â
With a determined glare, Sukuna marched over, fists clenched. "Hey, you dummies!" he yelled, his voice carrying an authority that belied his age.Â
The bullies turned, sneers plastered on their faces. "What's it to you, poopy head?" one of them taunted.Â
Before the boy could react, Sukuna's fist collided with his nose causing a horrifying sound. The boy fell back, holding his face while blood streamed down. Sukuna dodged the swing from the other bully with quick reflexes. He responded by delivering a quick punch to the bully's abdomen, leaving him breathless. The bully bent over in half, struggling to breathe before falling to the ground.
 âMommy! Mommy! Help me!â The boys cried in unison.
 "Had enough?" Sukuna spat, standing protectively in front of you as the bullies scrambled away in tears.Â
You looked up at your savior with wide, grateful eyes, wiping your tears away. Boy, was he in so much trouble that day.Â
âFf-thank you, âK-Kuna.â You sobbed.Â
He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just don't cry about it."Â
From that moment on, you were drawn to Sukuna like a magnet. At first, he found your constant presence irritating. You would trail behind him, mimicking his every step. If he ran, you ran; if he stopped, you stopped. When he sat on the swings, youâd sit beside him, your small legs dangling in the air. During snack time, youâd offer him your favorite treats, hoping to win his approval. Sukuna often rolled his eyes at your antics.Â
"Why are you always following me?" he grumbled one day as you trailed behind him.
"Because youâre my hero," you replied with a bright smile, holding out a piece of candy.
"Want some?"Sukuna's scowl softened just a fraction as he took the candy.Â
"Fine, but stop being so annoying."
 He found himself looking forward to the treats you brought and the way you cheered for him after his fights.
You would defend him to the other kids, proclaiming proudly;
 "Sukuna's the strongest! No one can beat him!"Â
Even when he found your declarations embarrassing, a part of him enjoyed the attention. Slowly, your loyalty began to chip away at his tough exterior. Without realizing it, Sukuna began to appreciate having you around.Â
The dynamic between you and Sukuna only deepened as you both entered high school. Sukunaâs reputation as a fierce fighter had followed him, and it wasn't long before other delinquent students sought to challenge him, either to prove themselves or settle old scores. You often found yourself waiting near the school gates or in the secluded corners where these fights typically occurred.Â
The aftermath was always the same: Sukuna standing victorious, his opponents nursing bruises and pride. You would rush to his side, your bag already prepared with a first aid kit.
"Hold still," you would command softly, dabbing at a cut on his cheek with antiseptic.
"I don't need your help," Sukuna would grumble, though he never pulled away.
"Stop being stubborn," youâd reply, focusing on cleaning his wounds. "If you keep this up, youâre going to have more scars than I can count."
Sometimes, it would be other delinquent students wanting to mess with each other, using Sukuna as their proving ground. But no matter how many tried, Sukuna remained undefeated. His skill and ferocity in battle were unmatched, and you were always there to patch him up afterward.
One evening, after a particularly brutal fight, you were carefully bandaging Sukunaâs knuckles.Â
"You really should find a less violent hobby," you teased, trying to lighten the mood.
He chuckled, wincing slightly as you tightened the bandage.
"And what would that be? Knitting? Horseback riding? Ooh, what about pottery?"
You smiled, shaking your head. "I just worry about you, that's all."
He looked at you, a rare softness in his eyes. "I know. Thanks.â
Once you turned eighteen, the news hit you like a freight train: Sukuna had to leave for another country. The weight of his departure was heavy, pressing down on your chest as you tried to process it. His last day arrived all too quickly, and you found yourselves standing in the empty school courtyard, the familiar surroundings now filled with a profound sense of finality.
"I can't believe you're leaving," you said, your voice shaky with emotion. "I'll miss you so much."
Sukuna's usual bravado was absent, replaced by a quiet resignation. He met your eyes, his own filled with a sadness.Â
"I don't really have a choice," he murmured, his tone uncharacteristically soft. "But you have to promise me something."
"Anything," you replied instantly, desperate to hold onto any part of him.
"Stay safe for me, got it?" His voice was firm, but you could hear the underlying plea.
"I will," you promised, your throat tightening as you fought back tears. "You too, Sukuna. Stay safe."
He gave a small nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. "I mean it. Don't do anything stupid."
"I won't," you assured him, though you wished you could say more, do more to make him stay.
As he turned to leave, you felt an ache in your heart, a deep, gnawing sense of loss.
 "Sukuna," you called out, your voice breaking slightly. "I'll miss you."
He paused, his back still turned to you. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but all he could manage was a low hum of acknowledgment. "Protect yourself for me," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
You watched him walk away, each step taking him further from you and deeper into an unknown future. As he disappeared from sight, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. He wished he had said it back, wished he had found the courage to tell you how much you meant to him. But for now, all he could do was carry the hope that one day, he would have the chance to make things right.
No way of contacting him, Sukuna gradually became a distant memory. The sharp, vivid images of your childhood together blurred as you got busier with your studies. The demands of school, extracurricular activities, and the push towards your future left little room for reminiscing. Each passing day added another layer of distance between you and the boy who had once been your closest friend.
Meanwhile, Sukuna was on a different path. He threw himself into intense training, honing his skills with a singular focus. His natural talent and relentless drive quickly propelled him to the top of the mixed martial arts world. As you buried yourself in textbooks and exams, Sukuna was making headlines, becoming a prodigal MMA fighter known for his unmatched ferocity and technique.
Years slipped by, and the memories of Sukuna became like old photographs, faded and tucked away in the back of your mind. Occasionally, something would trigger a fleeting recollectionâa particular song, the scent of antiseptic from your first aid kit, or the distant sound of a playground. But these moments were rare and quickly overshadowed by the pressing concerns of the present.
Unbeknownst to you, Sukunaâs name began to rise in the sports world. Articles, interviews, and televised matches showcased his prowess, but in your bubble of academic pursuits, his fame went unnoticed. You had yet to discover the remarkable journey Sukuna had undertaken -- the one that had transformed him from the fierce protector of your childhood to a celebrated MMA prodigy.
Despite the cashflow and all the attention that came with his success, Sukuna felt a deep, gnawing emptiness. The trophies, accolades, and the roaring crowds failed to fill the void left by your absence. He would often find himself staring out at the arena from behind the scenes, lost in thought.Â
Sukuna imagined what it would be like to see you in the crowd. He could almost hear your voice cheering for him, a familiar sound that had been a constant during his childhood fights. He pictured you there, standing amidst a sea of faces, your eyes bright with pride as you shouted his name.Â
"YES! THAT'S SUKUNA! LET'S GO!" he would hear you say in his mindâs eye, your voice as clear and encouraging as it had been all those years ago.
He hoped that one day, you would see how far he had come, that you would recognize the man he had become and the battles he had fought. He longed for the moment when he could finally show you the success he had achieved and hear you say,
"Iâm proud of you, Sukuna.â
But for now, those thoughts remained unspoken wishes he carried with him as he fought in the ring. Every success, every achievement was colored with the anticipation that one day you would be present to observe it, to witness his growth, and to take part in celebrating his achievements.
One day, though, the paths of your separate lives would cross again, and the faded memories would be brought back into sharp focus. But for now, you remained unaware, while Sukuna continued to conquer arenas far away, all the while imagining your cheers in his heart.
Taglist:
just put it under this post or any of the chapters I'll release. I would be posting polls or asking readers about certain things sometimes that would possibly affect the story in a minor way so stay tuned. :)
#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#jjk x reader#jjk sukuna#jjk fanfic#what other tags do i put#ryomen x reader#ryomen x you#jjk fic
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