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gauloiseblue · 5 months

Text

And at every table / I'll save you a seat

(Gaz × Reader)

[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]

Tags: fluff, smut, family issue, friends to lovers, slow burn, [A bit of warning] tradition view on virginity and marriage, piv sex

Words: 9.8k

It all started with a little request

"Will you take my virginity?"

He's taken aback by the ask, but he quickly regains his composure.

"No." He replied.

You look at him for a while, before you mutter out, "I understand."

"Wait," He grabs your hand before you could turn around, "Let's talk about it."

He observes the hesitation rising from your face when you look away, "I don't think you'd understand."

"You haven't tried yet." He smiles gently, "Try me, (Name)."

"... It's a long story."

"I got time for it." He told you, "Tea?"

With that, he invites you into his place.

You're silent when he offers you a seat, and he lets you sit with your thoughts as he works on the drink. It's not your first visit to his apartment, since you've been here quite often. But you never came with a somber mood, and he didn't know what to say to cheer you up.

He hands you the cup, before he pours the tea from the pot. He hears you murmur something, and though he doesn't quite catch it, he can roughly guess it.

"So," He began as he sat down across the table, "Would you mind telling me why you suddenly wanna lose it?"

You had blown the steam away from the cup, before you took a sip. He watches you take your time with the drink, until you're ready to talk.

"I know that I said I'm keeping myself until marriage, but I don’t think it's possible now." You bit your lip, as you fidgeted with the handle of your cup, "Because I'm going to be wed to someone I didn't know."

He raises his brows at your statement, "That practice still exists today?"

"Yes, it still does." You begin to explain the outline of the story. "My family came from a community that still holds an orthodox belief. My parents aren't conservative, but they can't escape the tradition either. When they told me about the engagement, I begged them to call it off, yet they asked me to go with it. But I don't want that. I don't want to be trapped in a loveless marriage." Your eyes shift as you hold back tears, "I know that they love me, if they don't, I won't be here. Away from home."

You quickly wipe your cheek before you continue, "The man who'll be my husband is highly respected in the community, but he's at the same age as my mother. I don't know why he asked for my hand, we barely talked. But for the last few months, he began to send me gifts. It's customary for a suitor to give the girl presents as a way of courting. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details."

He waits for you to gather your thoughts, before you start again.

"To be a bride, it's common for a girl to go through a ceremony, to see if the girl is suitable for marriage. I have to fulfill all of certain criteria to be recognized as a proper fiancée." You snort when you mention it, "Ky, you're a smart person, you must've known what that means."

He crosses his arms when you subtly ask him to make the conclusion. "If you fail the virginity test, then you're ineligible to be a bride."

"There are other factors that can annul the engagement, but yes, purity is the most important aspect for the bride to have." You stated, "If I fail that test, then I can be free from the custom."

"Won't you be shamed for… not being pure?" He carefully asked.

"Yes, but It's better than the other option."

You went quiet after the confession, as if you've retreated back to your shell.

He gazes at you long and closely, while a sense of familiarity comes to rest on him. The way you carry yourself reminds him of the old you—who couldn't look him in the eyes when you both were strangers.

"Say," He begins, as he rubs his face, "If I were to help you, what then?"

"Nothing, we can pretend it never happened."

"You know it's not possible, right?" He frowned, "We can't go back like we used to, at least I can't see it that way."

"I know, but I don’t have a lot of choices." You replied with a sigh, "I can never sleep with a stranger, and I can't do it myself either." You told him, "I have to lose it somehow, but I don’t know how. And the reason I asked you this because you seem to have a lot of experience, so—"

You stop when he presses his hand against his lips. While it's impossible to tell if he blushes or not, you swear you see a red tint on his cheeks.

"You're not…?"

He scratches his neck, as he coyly replies, "My ma raised me well, (Name). Of course I'd save myself before marriage."

"Oh—" You cover your mouth in shock, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked you—"

"It's alright." He smiles, "How much time you have left until the ceremony?"

"About a month." You answered.

"I'll help you then." He said with such ease, that it made you stare at him wide-eyed, "But let me take you to a date first."

"What," You gulped, "What do you—Why? I thought… you said no…?"

"I hate seeing you like this, and I don't want you to resort to one night stand." He told you, "Besides, you didn't force me into this."

"But I did make you sympathize with me." You shook your head, "That's why you changed your mind."

"I said no because I knew you're saving yourself for marriage."

"But you said that you did too."

"That makes us even then." He tilts his head, "I'll take yours, and you'll take mine."

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out of it. Not because you're at loss for words, rather, you have too many questions in your head.

"You can decide how many dates we'll go before you decide if you want to do it." He reaches out to squeeze your hand, "How's that sound?"

Although you're still unsure at that time, you can't help but nod at the offer.

The first time he takes you on a date, it's on Sunday, 07:20 PM, at an independent cinema. He phoned you earlier, telling you that they're going to play an old romantic film.

"I thought you like mystery?"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't pick that on the first date." He grins, "Besides, the movie has Binoche in it."

By the time you arrive at the cinema, you spot him talking to another man by the ticket booth. He turns his head when he hears your call, before the other man leans to the side to see you.

"You're early." You told him.

"I could say the same to you." He said with a smile, "The movie's starting in 10, c'mere."

He extends his hand towards you, and you take it with a little bit of apprehension.

The man whistles when he drapes his arm around your shoulders, "I see ya bringing a date tonight."

"Yeah," He turned to you, "Ain't she pretty?"

His friend chuckles when your face turns red, "Can't argue with that."

"Well, we'll talk later. I'm gonna show her around for a bit." He gives the man a pat on his arm, "You still have that shrine of yours?"

"'Course!" He warmly retorted, "Wouldn't close it for ya."

He mutters something back to him, and the man gives him a thumb up. When the two of you part with him, you ask him about the shrine.

"It's just a room full of merchs." He explains, "He's a movie fanatic, so when he liked a film, he'd find any of the collectibles."

"Like graphic t-shirts?"

"More than that." He grins, "You'll see."

At the end of the hall, there's a door smaller than the theater one. He opens it for you, and guides you inside.

The room is roughly the size of a humble apartment, but it's filled with many posters and other things you have to see up close to know what they are. Your eyes scan the movie posters that are mounted on the wall, before you turn to a doll. It's a porcelain doll, adorned with old-fashioned clothes. You lift the little paper beneath it and begin to read.

"It's from 'Interview With The Vampire'." You hear him say, "It's one of the collections that he's proud of."

"I've seen that movie years ago." You murmured, while tracing the edge of the paper with your finger, "I didn't understand what the story was about, until I read the book."

"You read the novel?"

You nod, "I still read it from time to time. Oh, would you look at that." He turns his gaze towards the spot you point at, "Didn't we watch that movie together?"

"Mulholland Drive?" He rubs his chin, "Didn't you say you hate it?"

"Well, I did. But it's been stuck in my head since then." You turn on your heel and skim through the titles of the posters, "I see a lot of foreign movies but not french." You commented, "Isn't he a movie fanatic?"

"He is. Just not a hypocritical one." He replied, "He told me that many of the French directors are lecherous, and they like to put their fantasies into their movies. Guess what caused them to earn a good rating?"

"I don't know, affinity bias?"

"Precisely." He grins, "He likes a few French films though, like Plein Soleil, Amélie, Playtime,"

"Léon?" You smirk.

"He'd berate you if you ever mentioned that name in front of him."

You laugh at his playful warning, "I think I like him."

"Too bad, he already has a wife." He circles his arm around you, "Why don't I introduce you to someone else?"

You roll your eyes at him, as you're so used to hearing those words.

"Yeah, his name is Kyle Garrick, and he's currently single."

"Come on, you loved it the first time you heard it."

"Well, I did laugh at it, but it's getting old." You jest as you poke in his ribs, "Try something else, and maybe I'll fall for it."

And he gives you a response that gets you burst into a laughing fit. You shove him away as you retort back, ignoring the quiet tension that begins to hang in the air.

When the two of you enter the theater, he places his hand on your back as he guides you to your seat. Though it's just a small gesture, it sends a warm feeling to your stomach.

He settles down beside you, and his arm brushes against yours. The seats are quite broad compared to the commercial cinema, but still, there's not much space left between you and him. You try not to think about it too much, as you rest your hand on the same armrest as his.

The opening of the film with the scenery of a small town, before it shows the greetings between churchgoers and the neatly dressed gentleman. It then cuts to a standing crowd, who begins their worship with singing. You frown when you listen to the narrator, as she portrays the minds of the villagers as singular. As the hymn comes to an end, the parishioners bend down to sit on the pews, before the pastor climbs up to give a sermon. The colors of the scene contrasts with the next bit, as it cuts to two figures in the middle of the snow. The figures are covered with red hoods that they hold tightly as they walk against the wind.

The movie soon changes right after the wind blows the church door open. It focuses on the two figures earlier—a mother, and a daughter, as they begin to settle down at their new house.

Scene after scene, the narratives begin to blur into one, and you let yourself be immersed into the flow of the film. Instinctively, your body leans forward as you watch the chocolate and the store begin to take form. Yet in doing so, you missed the look your friend gave.

When the first conflict happens, you can't help but show your dislike towards the man—the well-dressed man from the beginning. But it soon dissipates when the woman invites her guest inside.

They talk for a little while, and the way she—her guest behaves, the clumsiness that she shows—that makes her look like a cornered cat, it almost looks surreal, as if you're watching yourself from the future scope. You press your hand against your lips, as the crease between your eyes deepens.

Perhaps it's just the right moment, or perhaps your thoughts spill over into his, that he decides to push your head gently onto his shoulder.

You were taken aback by the gesture, but you welcomed it. You murmur something to him, as you wrap your hand around his arm.

"What?" He asked in a low tone.

"Nothing." You told him while hiding your smile.

Kyle Garrick. You wonder if kind has always been his middle name. If it's not kind, then it must be thoughtful. It must be nice, to receive such affection from a man like him. In the midst of thoughts cartage, you begin to ponder, if it's alright for you to keep them from someone who's more deserving.

At the end of the movie, you slip your hand from his arm, as you stand up from your seat. You still remember the way he understands, and doesn't push further. He keeps the rest of the night in a lighthearted mood, though his hand lingers on you a little longer, and his gaze doesn't stray further from you, even just a little bit.

That night, you lay down on your bed with your thoughts as your lullaby. It doesn't help you sleep, but it does keep you company for the night.

The next day, you ask him if he's free on Friday.

It's curious how fast he responded back, considering that he still got jobs to do, particularly reports. When you read the message, you bite your lips as you type a new one.

'Wanna have dinner together?'

A new chat pops up in a second.

'Sure'

And another one after.

'When?'

'Today' You reply, 'Takeouts?'

'Let me cook for ya'

And it's settled.

When you show up on his doorstep, he opens it up the first time you ring the bell.

"Hey," He greets you with a grin, and you notice a red stain on his shirt, "Come in."

"Smells good." You commented as you stepped in, "What are you cooking?"

"Bolognese." He replied, "I haven't decided on the pasta yet. What do you want? Pappardelle or spaghetti?"

"Fusilli?" You said, before a smile betrays your lie, "Anything's fine, really."

"Pick a color then. Yellow or blue?"

"Yellow."

"Pappardelle then."

You thought it's just a random decider, until you saw the color of the packaging.

"Guess you're used to people who say it's up to you." You remarked while you climbed on the bar stool.

"You can say that." He chuckles as he drops the pasta into the pot.

"Were they your dates?"

"Pshh, no. Just my little brothers and sister. You know the story."

"I know." You trailed off and looked away, "But you must've had those moments in your dates."

"Like what you did earlier?" He smirks and you groan at him.

"Come on, you know I'd never complain about your choice."

"I know, that's why I like you."

"You always say that."

The conversation ends with a quiet chuckle, as he goes back to watch over the boiling water. You sense a reply from him that should be laid bare, but he left it at surmise.

"Dinner's ready." He announced, as he lifted up the plates from the counter. You follow him to the dining table, and you pull a seat while he places the dishes on the table.

As the two of you dig in, you quietly bite on the broad pasta. You might not be aware of it, but you always chew on your food longer when you're preoccupied with your mind.

You hear his voice as you snap out of your thoughts, but not clear enough for you to grasp.

"What?"

"It's alright if you wanna back down." He repeated, as he swirled the pasta with his fork, "I agreed to help you because you asked me to, but I know it might make things awkward between us, so."

"Oh, that's not—it's not about that, it's just," You chewed on your lip, "It's just that, when I think about you, I can't help but think that… I'll end up stealing something from you." You shook your head, "You could wait for the right person, you're not obligated to help me—"

"Well, I want to."

"I know, that's why I feel bad because I knew you wouldn't hesitate to help." You frown, "You're too kind for me, Ky. Sometimes I'm scared that I might get the wrong idea."

You almost jump when he holds your hand, and witness the fortitude that reflects in his eyes. "Go ahead then, go on and get the wrong idea. Because it might be true after all."

The way he said it—with a clear, unmistakable voice, drags you into silence. You can't find the words to say, nor the right response for his statement. While you're not entirely sure about the truth, you can see the trace of it on his face.

Your throat begins to tighten, and you try to swallow down whatever's in the way.

You know that he's hopeful that you'd give him some kind of clarity, but you don't. You couldn't.

After the dinner, you don’t extend your visit as you excuse yourself from staying.

"Let me take you home."

You shake your head, "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

You shoot him a smile, "Yes, don't worry about me."

He seems hesitant for a moment, but it disappears the moment you pull him into a hug.

"I'll call you when I'm home."

He picks up the phone at the second ringtone, and asks you if you're home. You give an affirmative answer, before the line turns silent.

The words that had wrapped around your throat came back to the surface. They beg to be let out of your tongue, but you bite them down. Not now. Not yet.

The call ends not long after, as you both say goodnight. As you sit down on the vanity stool, you look at the reflection of you in the mirror. It's the shape that you've known so well, and yet, you don't recognize it at the same time. Has your face already been like this? Is this what he always sees whenever you're around?

Absent-mindedly, you reach up to touch your lips. What would you taste like, if he ever kissed you?

Unfortunately, you can only imagine for now.

Four days would pass, and you soon find yourself waiting for the bell. He had messaged you earlier, telling you that he'll pick you up at your place.

The destination of your date is still unknown, since you only asked him to take you to somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can talk without the presence of curious ears. Of course, the first thought that came to your mind is the privacy of your home, but he got another idea, and kept it as a surprise.

"Bring a jacket with you." He told you on the phone, "You might need it."

But you don't know how cold it'll be, so you stick with a cardigan.

When he gets to your place, he doesn't ring the bell. Instead, you hear your phone rings, before a honk of a car announces his arrival. You walk out of your place and lock the door behind.

"Where are we going?" Is the question you asked him after you got into his car.

"You'll find out." He replied with a grin.

He doesn't give you any clue, other than the paper bag on the back seat. He also told you that it's a one-hour drive, so it's alright if you want to rest your eyes.

"I'm fine." You said, as you turned on the radio.

The ride is predominantly filled with songs, and the occasional chat between you and him.

On the other day, you either wouldn't stop talking, or you'd sit in comfortable silence. But that morning, both options seem unreachable.

"I'm sorry." You uttered quietly.

"What?"

"Sorry that I dragged you into this." You muse, "And I'm sorry that I made such a big deal out of it. I made things worse, didn't I?"

"Why'd you say that?"

"Because things have already changed between us, even when we haven't done anything."

"You think so?"

"Yes," You divulged, "When you said those things, I couldn't help but think that maybe you really meant it. But then again, you never told me anything before. Anything that could… indicate something."

"Are you sure?" You frown at his reply, "Think again, (Name)."

"What—?"

The car comes to a halt, and you snap your head towards the window. The usual view of the city has been replaced with trees. You stare at the board near the entrance, and you notice the words 'National Park' on it.

"We're here." He stated while unbuckling the seat belt.

You soon follow him as you push the door open. The cold air rushes inside, and makes you shiver.

He offers you his hand when you step out of the car. "Let's take a walk."

The trail that he chooses isn't as rough as you thought, and you can easily keep up with his speed. Though you knew that he slowed it down for you.

As you walk by his side, you feel a tug on your hand. It was his hand, and he wrapped it around yours. He smiles when you turn to him, and mutters out the same line he used whenever you're out with him.

"Wouldn't want to lose you here."

And it just clicked. Every piece of the puzzle just falls into the right place, and you begin to see the whole picture. He never changed at all, it was you who's changing.

"You like me."

You feel his hold tightens, before he loosens it up a second after.

"Like is an understatement."

"I'm afraid to use the stronger word."

"I know." He spoke softly, "That's why I never said it."

At the end of the path, a quiet lake waits for the two of you, providing a place for a silent conversation. The water is calm, but the breeze is colder than before. You hug yourself, trying to savor the little warmth that your cardigan provides. It doesn't take seconds before you hear a rustle, and feel yourself wrapped in a parka.

"Told you to bring a jacket." He murmured, as he held the garment for you.

His coat is warm, as if it has absorbed the heat of his skin. Your hands slip into the sleeves, before you roll up the cuffs. You watch his face as he zips up the parka, before he returns your gaze.

Perhaps it's him who leans closer, or it's you who wraps your hands around him first, but in the end, your lips meet with his. The kiss you both share is soft, and filled with longing. It's impossible to tell who's feeling it belongs to, but it envelopes around you like a mist.

When the two of you part, you smile as you murmur against his lips.

"I like you."

He softly chuckles as he cups your face, "I'm glad."

You both recognize the nuance of it, but no one speaks of it louder than a heartbeat.

I like you. What an understatement.

—

"Why do you like me?"

He lifts his head from the magazine when he hears your question.

"I could tell you all of the reasons, but at the end of the day, I simply like you."

"Really?" You roll your eyes, "Is that your way of saying you don't know?"

He lets out a small laugh, while he closes the mag. "Fine, I'll tell you." He begins, "I can't remember when it was, but we're pretty close at that time. We were just talking that night, and you asked me if I chose to be the giver because I felt uncomfortable receiving. I never thought about it, but it made sense. When I said yes, you told me, if I don't learn to receive, then I'd end up hurting other people. Because I denied their affection."

You lift your brows at the recount, "Did I really say that?"

"Yes, but it's not your words that got me the most. It's the way you broke my logic, and helped me see things from a new perspective." He stated, "It felt… nice, to be understood by you." He rubs the nape of his neck, "Well, what about you? Why do you like me?"

"I'm not sure." You pucker your lips, "I think I've always liked you. Because you're thoughtful, and it's something that's easier to say than done."

"Just that?"

"What? You want more?"

"Yeah," He smirked, "Go on."

You look at him long and hard, before you decide, "No."

"Why?"

"I'd say something embarrassing."

"Like what?"

"... I'm not telling."

He jumps on the sofa as he seizes your body. You squeal when he digs his fingers on your waists, and you shout, "Cut it out!"

He chuckles when you try to slap his hand away and fail, "C'mon, tell me." He grins, while his hands don't stop tickling you.

"Stop—I'm not telling—!"

When he had you pinned down, you kicked around to get him off you. Which, unfortunately, ends up knocking the empty glass on the table. You both watch in horror as the glass falls off the surface, and into the floor.

But it doesn't shatter. Instead, it bounces twice, before it rolls in a half circle. When it stops moving, it takes about five seconds before the two of you burst into laughter.

"That's the second time you almost broke it."

"Sorry." You muttered through your giggle, "But whose fault was it?"

"Me." He grinned, before slowly bent down to kiss you.

Just like the other kisses you've shared, it goes on for more than a minute. He gently guides you as he cups your cheeks. Your arms find their way around his neck, and keep him close to you.

He leans his forehead against yours, as he catches his breath. You observed the way his chest rises and falls while you follow the same rhythm. Maybe you soften at the sight of him, or maybe a kiss'd really loosen up someone's tongue, that's why the words fall out of your mouth so easily.

"I like your kisses."

He raises his head as he turns his gaze on you. "Was that the thing you're embarrassed to admit?"

You give his shoulder a punch.

"Hey." He retorted with a chuckle, "'M just kidding."

He presses his lips on your cheek, before he lays down on your side. You shift your body to give him space, and settle your head on his arm, while the other one is wrapped around you.

"Comfy?"

You nod, "You're warm."

"Glad to be your heater."

You bury your face into his chest as you giggle.

"I just wish you're portable," You jest, "So I could use you whenever I'm cold."

"Who says I'm not portable?"

"Well, you can't be with me 24/7."

"Careful what you wish for." He smirked.

You raise your brow at him, "Is that a warning?"

"Maybe."

"Mmm," You rested your finger on your chin, "Didn't sound like one."

"Really?" He teases, "Then you won't mind if I keep you here for the night."

"I'm busy tomorrow, so no." You hold your chuckle when you see him pout, "But I'm free next weekend, you can keep me until Monday if you want."

A glint of mischief crosses his eyes, as he pulls you into a kiss.

"I can't wait."

But waiting doesn't feel longer than you expect, since you meet him for dinner almost everyday. If one of you couldn't make it, you both would be on the call that night.

Talking has been a part of your relationship, even when the two of you still carried the friends title. You could talk with him for hours, and bring up every topic into it. Doesn't matter how random or strange. But there was a line that you both couldn't cross, something that kept the two of you in circles. And you thought it'd stay that way, until you stepped into the other side.

It's a wonder how a familial issue could push your relationship to this point, since you wouldn't think twice about him for the sake of friendship. Now that you've crossed the line, you have nothing to hide from him.

While it might be a good thing, it also leads you to unknown territories. When you're with him, you can no longer ignore the tension that fills the room. Any time that he kissed you, or held you tight in his arms, you couldn't help but think if this would be it. This would be the right time for it. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask.

Maybe that's the reason why—after the 2:01:31 mark on the call, you bring up the obvious question to light.

"Y'know Ky," You start, "I don't have much experience with sex, and neither do you. So how exactly are we gonna do it?"

The line goes silent for a moment, before you hear him draw a breath in. "Are you afraid it'll hurt?"

"No—I mean, yes. But that's not my point." You sigh, "I just—I don't know, I feel like I need to learn about it before getting to the act."

There's a subtle hint of a rustle that you could only guess coming from the papers, "It'll definitely help if we do some research beforehand."

"But where do we start?" You asked, "Porn?"

"I wouldn't recommend that. It's… unrealistic."

"What then? 'A guide to sex' book? 'Sex for dummies'?"

You catch the sound of his chuckle from the speaker. "Only grandmas would read that."

"I would read that if it helps me prepare."

He hums, and your ear picks up the sound of clink, like a metal is placed against a wood. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How far have you gone with your partner in the past?"

You hum as you think back, "I think I stopped at heavy petting. I was in high school back then and I was curious. But it hurted, and I was bleeding after the session." You snort when you recall the moment, "Of course I freaked out, but when I secretly tested myself out, I found that I'm still a virgin. I could only guess that he tore something with his nail. That's why I bled."

"I see."

"What about you?" You asked, "How far have you gotten with it?"

"Same as you." He responded, "Fingering, oral, hand job, all the foreplay stuff."

You bite your lip as you hear his tone becomes heavier with each word, something that you notice whenever you dive into a risky topic.

"Should we give it a try?"

There's a pause from the other side of the call, before you receive a reply. "You sure you want it?"

"Yes." You breathe out, "We gotta start somewhere."

Your fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, as you wait for him to answer.

"Alright." He mused, and you felt the warmth creeping up from your lower belly. "Is the plan still on?"

"What plan?"

"You staying over for the weekend?"

You smile against the phone as you reply, "Of course."

"I'll be waiting then."

Friday evening, you arrive at his door with a bag of clothes and other necessities. When the bell rings, it takes about three seconds before the door swings open.

He greets you in the usual manner, except this time he speaks in a softer tone.

"Hey." He smiles upon seeing you, "Come in."

He steps aside when you walk in, before he takes the bag from your hand. You mutter a small 'thank you', and wait for him in the living room while he puts your things aside.

"You want something to drink?" He offered, but you shook your head.

"I'm fine."

You watch him come near you, before he bends down to his knees. You raise your brows when he tugs your hand towards him, and presses a kiss onto your palm.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?" You asked.

"Your boundaries." He squeezed your hand gently, "What's your preferences, what you're not comfortable with,"

"Oh." You look down to your lap to hide your blush, "I don't have any preference yet, I think." You shrug, "I have to experience it to know what I like or dislike, but I think I'm fine with everything you do. Just… don't treat me rough, because I don't think I can handle it."

"Wouldn't dream of hurting you." He pecks on your cheek. "Come,"

You stand from your seat as he pulls you up, and your body follows him naturally as he drags you with him. As he closes the bedroom door behind, your heart leaps when he lifts you up with his arms to kiss you. Your legs wrap around his waist, while you keep your hands on his chest.

When he lays you down on the bed, you push his body away for a little as you mumble, "My, aren't you eager."

He observes your face before he chuckles, "You don't know how long I've waited for this."

You moan when he presses his kiss on your neck, and you feel his hand slip under your garment. Soon, the elastic band of your underwear is dragged down on your skin, and you instinctively close your thighs together.

"Let me taste you, (Name)."

He tugs your pants down until they reach your ankles, he takes his time to unhook them from your feet, before pushing your legs apart. You call his name as a protest, but any attempt to cover yourself from him is useless.

"Ky—" You stare at him wide-eyed as he lowers his head to your core, to the point that you can feel his breath against your labia. Your body tenses up when he gets the first taste of you, before he buries his tongue into your core.

"Tell me if I hurt you." He told you, and waited until you nodded to continue.

You gasp when he presses his tongue against your clit—not out of pleasure, but foreign feeling as the rough texture of his tongue latches on your nub. Your hand shoots up to grab his hair, while your legs clamp on his head. He grunts when you squirm away, and links his arms around your thighs to keep you still.

At first, you only feel a strange sensation every time his tongue swipes against your bundle of nerves, but soon it builds up into a familiar surge. Warmth begins to spread from your lower region, and you muffle a moan when he flicks his tongue on your sensitive clit.

"Ky—!" You hissed when it hit the right spot, "Keep going—"

Your hips bucks involuntarily as he sucks on the swelling bud, it sends an electricity through your body, before his lips detach from you. You whine at the loss of contact, but it doesn't take a second before his elastic muscle returns to its previous place.

The grip on his hair tightens as he picks up the pace, and soon the pleasure starts to coil inside your stomach. Your brows are knitted as you focus on his tongue, chasing after the high that's been hanging in front of you. It's not until you tilt your hips, that you finally reach it.

You cry out as your back arches, your eyes snap open as the wave of pleasure hits you. It was different, more satisfying than what you did on lonely nights. As you slowly come down, your body relaxes under his touch.

When he reaches up to kiss you, you chuckle as you taste yourself from his lips. "And you told me you're a virgin." You mused.

"I don't need to lose it to be good at oral."

You roll your eyes and hold him off by his chest, "Yeah right."

He seems taken aback when you push him to the side, before straddling him between your legs. Your hands work on his pants, as you loosen up the drawstring. "What are you doing?" He muttered out.

"Returning the favor." You replied with a smirk, while you tugged down his pants.

You've seen the outline of his member when he's still dressed, but now that you strip him off, you finally get the full view of it.

You sense his gaze on you as you stare at his cock. Your hand reaches out to touch the tip, and it twitches under your fingertips.

"Are you just gonna stare?"

"Patience." You shot him a teasing look, "I was just admiring."

He props himself up to watch you bend down, taking his length into your mouth. You look at him through your lashes, as you slowly drag your tongue along the shaft. Your fingers wrap around his base, and begin to give it a pump.

His breath becomes shallower with each stroke of your hand, while you wrap your lips around his cock. The tip feels hot on your tongue, as if it's filled with impatience. He groans as you sink your mouth deeper, "Keep going, baby."

You perk up at the nickname he used, but it needs to wait before you can bring it up to him, since your mouth is occupied at the moment.

He places a hand on your head, and runs his fingers through your hair before they settle on your crown. You grunt when he begins to rock his hips gently, while his hand gives you no room to pull back. He's careful enough not to push too deep, but he still overwhelms you.

"That's it—" He panted, brows knitted together as he focused on you. "Fuck—"

His heavy breath, his gentle grip on your hair send warmth through your body. It's not the first time you've done this, but it's the only time you felt desired. He's eager, but he's careful at the same time. He doesn't rush things, he fixates on the moment instead. When you place your hand on his thigh, he slows down as he loosens up his grip on you.

"You alright?"

You nod before you pull away from him.

"I want to ride you."

His brows are raised as you climb on top of him, slowly lowering yourself onto his lap. He takes a sharp breath when your core touches the base of his member, leaving a wet trail as you grind on him. You hear a quiet groan from his sighs, and it becomes heavier each time you pick up the pace.

You bite your lip as you feel your core throb at the sight beneath you. The way his head digs into the pillow, half-lidded eyes and panting, and the way his muscles tense as he chases after pleasure. His hands settle on your waists, keeping you from moving too far from the right spot. Your breath comes out as a huff when the friction starts to get to you. It almost feels real, as if he's really inside you.

"I'm close." He chokes out a moan, and you feel his fingers dig into your skin. "(Name)—"

Your lips curl into a grin when you hear the urgency in his voice. You lean down to kiss him, and he eagerly returns the favor. You grunt against his mouth, as you struggle to move with his arms wrapped tightly around you. But he doesn't seem to mind the erratic pace, since his hips move on its own.

His body shudders and he throws his head back as he groans, loud enough that you can feel his chest rumble through your palms. His member twitches against your core, spilling the white release onto both of your and his clothes. It takes a moment for him before he registers your lips on his neck, which he tilts his head and leans his cheek against yours.

"That was…"

"Good?" You grinned as you gave him a kiss.

"Great. Amazing. Ten out of ten." He chuckles, "Are you sure you're a virgin?"

You playfully pinch his cheek while you laugh, "Shut up."

He shoots you a coy smile, before he gently rolls you down with him on the bed.

"We should take a bath."

"Later." He muttered, wrapping one arm around you.

"Come on." You protested while tugging his hand off you, "We can cuddle after that."

"Fine," He lets you go, "Let's take a shower."

And he said it in a not-so-innocent voice.

The two of you end up prolonging the bath time, as he's taking you for a second round. If he's eager the first time, the second time must be worse. Since he's got the taste of it. You knew that he's exceptional, that he's a quick-learner, but you didn't expect it'd apply to sex as well.

The thing is, you never came with fingers alone. But when he cornered you in the shower, knuckles-deep in your core, he had you screaming as the sweet shock from the orgasm went through your body. He doesn't give you much of a break, as he bends you down until your ass touches his hip. You gasp in horror when you feel the tip of his dick against your drenched hole, he teasingly rubs himself on your labia, before it slips down to your clit.

He had your thighs pressed together, which made the friction even stiffer. You groan as he begins to thrust, hitting your throbbing bud everytime without mercy. He pins both of your wrists against the wall with one hand, while he keeps your body still with the other. It's almost unfair how strong he is to hold you down like this, and how cruel he is to tease you as he whispers dirty words into your ear. By the time you come, you have no energy left, even for standing.

He catches you right before your legs give up, holding you up while he sneaks a hand under the back of your thighs. You yelp when he props you up in his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom.

You land on the bed with a bounce, and receive no privilege to get up as he holds your legs together, before placing them against his shoulder. The color in your face is drained the moment his length rests on your thigh, fervent and heavy.

"I hope you're not tired yet," He grins, and you swear you see horns growing from his head the moment he says it, "Because I'm nowhere done with you."

—

Kyle Fucking Garrick.

You take back what you said about his middle name. It's not kind or thoughtful, it's fucking Prick.

It should've been obvious to you, after all the gossip you heard from your friends about him. Something that you thought as a baseless fact, a Lavater-physiognomy type of bullshit, but somehow they got it right. He's not as innocent as you defended him to be. He is freaky, and he's good at keeping it a secret.

After he exhausted you the night before, he decided that the best way to wake you up was with his mouth. Your clit was already swollen from yesterday's activity, and he abused it again in the morning. You stirred in your sleep, before your eyes snapped open at the sharp tug on your sensitive bud.

"G'mornin'." He greeted you the moment you woke up, still disoriented. "How's your sleep?"

You narrowed your eyes, as you tried to turn your vision focused. "Wha—" You slurred.

"Shh." He pushed you down to the bed, while his hand worked its way to your fold. "Let me take care of you, baby."

And thus you started your day with an orgasm.

Of course it's only the beginning, since it's him that you're talking about. He could make you faint in the bathroom if you didn't lock the door behind, and he could certainly numb your mind with his fingers if you didn't cut two apples for breakfast. But once you ran out of excuses, you're pretty much doomed.

While you knew he'd stop right away if you told him so, you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Because once he puts his hand on you, you just melt. The irritation that you carry in mind dissolves the moment he wraps you in his arms, and every curse you hold on your tongue comes out as a whimper, as his mouth latches onto your nape.

It's a game of self-will, and he plays it underhandedly. You both know what you want, but no one speaks of it, no one takes the initiative. You grit your teeth as frustration begins to take over you. It's pretty clear he wants you to say it, with the excuse that it's yours to decide. But he lures you with sweet words, and waves your much-needed release in front of you. Close enough for you to see, but far away from your reach.

And finally, after three neglected orgasms, you swallow your ego and beg. "Please Ky—" You cried out, "Please, just fuck me—"

His hand ceases to move, as he pulls it out of your sopping core. You whine at the loss of contact, before he muffles it with his kiss.

The trip to his bedroom is quite messy, with a lot of thrown clothes and sloppy kisses. When you find yourself on his bed again, you crawl up to give him some space. He follows after you, and presses his lips against yours with impatience. Faintly, you hear the sound of a wrapper being ripped, before he pulls away to roll down the rubber on his length.

He comes back to your side, locking his lips with yours again, while he slots his hips between your legs. Your hands find the purchase on his back as you cling to him, digging your fingers into his skin the moment you feel his tip against your hole.

A gasp escapes your lips when he pushes himself in, stretching your pussy open with his dick.

"Shit, you're too tight." He hissed, as your walls tightened around his glans.

Your face contorts in pain, as he tries to squeeze himself deeper.

"No good." He mused, pulling himself out of you. You whimper as your hole clenches around nothing. "On your side, baby."

He gently rolls you to the side, sliding his arm below your head as he lays behind you. He places a hand under your cheek, and guides your lips back to his. You wince when you feel the nudge against your core, before it slowly sinks deeper into you.

It doesn't hurt much, compared to what you endured earlier. But it still stings, and you smack your palm against his hip when he begins to thrust. "Ky—" You moaned against his lips, gripping onto his skin as you felt yourself stuffed to the brim.

"Just a little more, baby." He places a kiss on your shoulder, while his hands find their way to wrap around your body. "Just a little more."

No words could form in your tongue, as your mouth snaps open at the steady thrust of his cock. It was slow, torturous, and left you wondering if you've underestimated his size.

But it soon comes to a stop, as his lower stomach touches the curve of your bottom. Your heart is beating against your chest, and you try to catch your breath while he showers you with kisses. The push of his hips comes to a halt, and you take it as a chance to rest. You lean your head back to his shoulder, giving him access to your neck, which he soon decorates with love marks.

"You alright?" He murmured, tenderly stroked your arm.

You hum as an answer. "You can move now."

"You sure?"

"Yes." You breathe out, "Please."

You sense a hesitation in his touch, before he presses a kiss on your temple.

"Tell me if it hurts."

You nod, giving his forearm a squeeze as a reassurance.

He shifts your body closer to him, readjusting the position to make it more comfortable. You raise your head a bit while he moves, before he guides you back to his arm. A grunt escapes your lips the moment he drags his member out, before he thrusts it back in. Your core flutters around him, as the numbness slowly fades into pleasure.

Perhaps your body is still sensitive from all the teasing he did, but you can't deny that he's good. Every stroke of his cock just hits right, as it grazes you in the place where his fingers couldn't reach. You grip his arm when you feel his pace quickens, filling the room with the wet slaps of the skins. And when his tip nudges the tender part of you, your body reacts in a way you don't expect.

He seems to notice it, as he lifts his head up to see your face. "Does that feel good?" He whispered in your ear, and you yelped when he snapped his hips against yours.

"Oh God—" You scrabble at his body, trying to find something to grab on. "Do that again."

"Gladly."

A warning comes up to your throat, before it dies down as soon as he moves. You squirm against his strong grip, digging your nails into his thigh like a claw machine. When his cock grazes the right spot within you, you cry out a strangled moan. And the second time he does it, the suspicions you had in mind are all erased. He's no longer teasing you, because now he really intends to make you scream.

When he rolls on top of you, you feel your legs being spread apart with his knees. Stretching your pussy open for him to go deeper. With him on top of you, and your stomach flat on the bed, you have no room to crawl away.

His hand snakes around your shoulder, propping you up into a half-arched position. A whimper comes out of your mouth the moment he slams himself into you, while his lips are busy with your neck. Niping and sucking on your reddening skin. Your hand reaches up to the back of his head, gripping the curls of his hair as you moan.

"I'm close." You hissed, "Kyle—"

"I know, baby." He presses a kiss on your nape, "I know."

He raises your hips slightly, before slipping his hand between your thighs. Your body jerks when he touches your clit, rubbing it in a circle motion. The fact that it's already swollen doesn't help you either.

"Ky!" You claw his hand in panic, "I can't—I can't—"

"You can." He grunted against your ear, "Let it go, baby."

Your grip on his wrist tightens, as every muscle in your body tenses up. You could barely hold it when he fucked you slow, and now with his finger on your clit, you just break.

A loud cry fills the room as you come. Hard. Your eyes roll up, hands gripping tightly on the sheet until your fists turn pale. And for a moment, you forgot how to breathe, until you gasped for air. Which comes in the form of short and trembling puffs. The moment of bliss and numbness only descends for short seconds, before you realize he's still inside you.

The burning sensation in your core comes back to you, although weaker than before. You whimper against the sheet, as he prolongs the high you just reached. His fingers no longer slotted between your folds, as they move to grip your waist. In daze, you begin to wonder when it'll end. Until you feel a shudder from the body on top of you, and a strangled moan falls from his mouth.

He rests his head on you, catching a breath, before he slowly rolls down to the side. You watch him as he wearily pulls off the condom, and throws it aside.

The two of you lay down still, mustering the energy that's left after the laborious session. Although you doubt if it's the same case for him, since he has no trouble getting up to fetch the tissue box.

As he wipes himself off, you mutter out with a low voice, "You've ruined me for other men."

He turns his head to you, before a grin spreads on his face. "Already thought about leaving?"

You know from his tone that he's not serious, but neither of you can carry the usual banter. At least not now.

"You know what I mean." You mused.

His face softens, as he bends down to kiss you. "I know."

You smile against his lips, and carefully shift your body until you lay on your back. He climbs on top of you, planting each arm on your side as he latches his lips on yours. You reach up to cup his face, pulling him closer as you part your lips, giving his tongue the access to dive into your mouth deeper. The two of you relish in each other's taste, before you feel something on your thigh.

"You're hard." You let slip what you saw, and he flushed.

"Sorry." He rubbed his neck, "You just… turn me on."

You observe his face for a moment, noting how he avoids your eyes whenever he's shy. His expression, and his candid confession set something in you, as you feel the warmth in your lower belly.

"I think we can go one more time."

"Aren't you tired?"

"A little." You replied, "But it's nothing I can't handle."

His eyes search into yours for a second, before he gives in.

"Alright." He uttered, "Let me grab the condom."

—

Now that you've gotten the taste of it, you can understand why sex is often called forbidden apple. Because once you put your teeth to it, you can't go back to what you're used to. No more friendly cuddles, and no more innocent kisses that won't lead to something.

While it's easy to get swept up in the new pastime, you can't help but worry. As a lot of 'what if's fill your thoughts. You never doubt him, no. But you'll never know what the future's like. For you and him.

One day, when the two of you lounge on the couch—with your head on his chest, as it rises and falls in a slowing rhythm, you divulge a question that's been eating you up.

"What if it doesn't work?" You brood, "What if he still wants to marry me despite of everything?"

You watch the subtle change in his face as he meets your gaze. "Do you want me to come along?"

"No," You muse, "It'll make things worse."

He hums, "Have you talked to your parents?"

"... No." You looked away, as you chewed on your lip. "No, I haven't."

"I think you should." He gives your arm a squeeze, "Talk to them, maybe they'll help you."

"They didn't help me at all." You said bitterly.

"You wouldn't know that, (Name)." He let out a quiet sigh, "Parents don't usually tell what they've done for their children. And that could be the case with yours."

"They didn't stop the engagement."

"Maybe they couldn't." He replied, "Hey, look at me." He gently pulls you to face him, "I know it's hard for you, and I can't imagine how you feel about it. But your parents love you, you said it yourself." He reassured you, "Maybe they didn't stop it because they're powerless, but they knew that you'd find a way out. After all, they're the one who told you about the ceremony, right?"

While you're still frowning at him, you begin to soften up in his hold. "... Yeah, they did." You muttered.

"They knew that you're against it and you'd deliberately failed one of the tests, so they just told you what to do and what you shouldn't. It's their way to tell you which one to break, and which one you should keep in mind." He sighs, "And I hate to say it, but I'd do the same if it's the only choice I have."

Though his words have put you at ease, you can't help but sense a new doubt entering your mind. "Will they… will they be okay if I fail the test? Won't it give them a bad name?"

"I think it's the risk they're willing to take." He smiled softly, "Talk to them, (Name). You need it."

You follow his advice two days later.

You've been mulling over the talk for days, going through all of the possibilities over and over again in your mind. You've prepared for a whole speech, but it all disappears once you hear their voices. Just like that, all of your thought falls from your mouth, as they flow out like a stream.

There's a lot of talking, a lot of 'sorry's, and maybe a few of tears. But in the end, you feel better.

As the conversation slips into a mundane, but comfortable chat, you slip his name between your life update. Though you have your doubts about it, it's worth telling in spite of all.

"You should introduce him to us." Your mother chirped, "Bring him with you the next holiday, I want to meet the lucky fellow."

You chuckle as you tell her alright, but no promise.

Four days later, on the evening at the airport, you reach up to kiss him before you say the words. You almost laugh at how easy it was, to say such words with such ease. And he'd laugh with you, if he wasn't struck by it.

"I thought you're afraid to use that word."

"Not anymore." You said with a smile, "Not with you."

He seems confounded for a moment, before he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear.

"I hope you won't regret it, because I'll say that to you everyday from now on."

"Well, why don't you start now?"

You both chuckle, before he wraps his hands around you and pulls you into another kiss.

"I love you, (Name).

"Come home to me soon."

#it's finally DONEEEEE #alright. I'm officially done with long fics #it's not healthy for my sleep schedule #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #i'm too lazy to tag more #enjoy

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empress-simps · 3 months

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Tulips & Moony

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader CW: Sirius and Remus' banter and language (around 700 words) Summary: Remus tries to crochet you a tulip. Note: Hi darlings! I hope you like this mini fic; I love to crochet so why not make a fic out of it, right? Also, my uni's third term is about to end so I'll have more time to finish my WIPs! Hope you enjoy!

Remus loves knitted things— he considers the “unfashionable” grandpa sweaters that Sirius always complains about to be his prized possessions, not forgetting to mention how he’s got every neutral and earthy tones of cardigans arranged neatly in his trunk.

Yes, Remus is an avid fan of those things, but he doesn't really express any interest in making them from scratch.

So, imagine Sirius' surprise walking in on Remus who’s red in the face as he fumbles with a ball of yarn.

“Now Moony, when did you suddenly become a grandma?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow at the poor bloke who’s struggling looping a yarn.

“Since he learned Y/n loves to crochet.” James quipped from his bed, eating a chocolate frog that he most likely stole from Remus’ stash who was too busy to notice.

“He’s been at it for a good hm… three hours or so?” Peter shrugs, working on his charms essay in the corner of the room and trying to block out the strings of curses Remus grumbles out every now and then.

“Can you all be quiet? I’m trying to concentrate, you sods.” The werewolf grumbled, furrowing his brows and sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth in concentration. The sight was quite amusing. James lets out a laugh, getting off his bed. “Alright then, I’m getting quite tired watching you fail miserably,” Remus grunted, “Yeah, go bother someone else.”

Sirius plopped next to Remus, looking closely at his creation. “That��s a nice square you got there, Moony.” He hummed, nodding in approval at the wonky shape.

“It’s a bloody circle, you git.”

Sirius didn’t even try to stifle his laugh, “What are you trying to make anyway?”

“A tulip.”

“Doesn’t look like one though.”

“Thanks Pads, really. You’re such a great friend.” Remus rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he repeats a certain stitch a couple of times. “Geez Moony, that’s alright now.”

“No, it’s not, the stitch looks weird and much looser than the others,” Remus complained.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “You call that a stitch? Doesn’t look like it.”

"Yeah, the next time you'll see Poppy is because of the stitches you're gonna get because of me-"

Safe to say they both were kicked out to the common room by a very annoyed Wormtail.

It took about a week full of wonky, weirdly shaped tulips, and sleepless nights for Remus to successfully make a single red tulip.

Remus gripped the wrapped tulip tightly, the familiar feeling of nervousness eating up his system seeing you with your friend hanging out in the corner of the common room. He was pulled out of his thoughts by James showing him lightly.

“Look, now’s your chance, Moony.”

Sure enough, your friend left you on one of the couches to go Godric knows where, Remus didn’t really care that much if he’s honest. He even silently thanked your friend as his feet lead him to where you’re sitting. “Oh, Remus!” You looked up to see his tall frame, standing quickly as you could and offering him a smile. “Hi.” He grinned nervously before stretching his arm out that’s holding the crocheted Tulip to you, albeit a bit awkwardly but you on the other hand, find it endearing. “Erm… Is it for me?” You asked, chuckling nervously. “Ah, yeah! I made it, I heard you like to crochet so…” He trails off, scratching the back of his neck as blush dusted his cheeks. He saw how your eyes lit up, and your smile widening as you gently took it from his hand. “Woah…” You let out a soft gasp, examining the flower carefully. “Since when did you learn how to crochet?” “Just last week,” “Just last week?! Remus, you are gifted. I couldn’t even make something remotely similar when I was a month in crocheting.” You told him, hugging it close to your cheeks. “Thank you, Remus.” You smiled shyly, going on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his cheek before waving shyly to him and heading off to girls’ dormitory, leaving Remus who was still trying to process what just happened.

“Another one? I’ve already told you leather is much better!” Sirius threw his hands up in the air, entering their room to see Remus smiling to himself as he wore the cardigan you crocheted for him. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you, Pads.” Peter looked up from his and James’ game of exploding snap. “Why? It’s not fashionable!” “It’s made by Y/N, you wanker. Now shut your mouth before I hex you out of this room.”

#marauders fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus x reader #marauders x reader #remus x you #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #marauders fic #marauders x y/n #marauders x you

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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 10 months

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Slutmas Day 3

Oblivious (Matt)

Request: can you do a matt x female reader smut where they’re friends (but have secret crushes on each other) and she sleeps over at their house and ends up asking to sleep in matt’s room and then s e x (you can include hella degradation and humiliation too)

Warnings: gg cuddling, slight angst, mentions of past abusive relationship, slight degradation, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, Matt being a fucking simp, took some inspo from the request but not exactly it

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious?”

3rd Person pov

It was Friday night in Los Angeles and as usual, the Sturniolo triplets and their hometown best friend Y/n were having a sleepover. Y/n had moved to LA a few months after the triplets as she too had gained quite a following on youtube. The four friends had created a tradition; every Friday night they’d get snacks, watch a few movies, and have a sleepover. The three brothers used to argue over whose room Y/n would sleep in because that person would get to spend more time with her.

They had all decided each of the brothers would have a certain week of the month and they would do something to randomly pick a brother for the last week. The Friday schedule went Nick, Matt, and Chris, just like their birth order and the last Friday was TBD. Since it was the last Friday of the month, the three had decided to play rock, paper, scissors to determine whose room Y/n would be sleeping in tonight.

Y/n’s pov

I was excited that Matt had won the game because I secretly had the biggest crush on him. We all had decided it was time to go lay down in our respective rooms, giving the other two brothers a hug before heading to Matt’s bedroom. Matt and I had decided we were just going to watch cartoons for the rest of the night. We changed into our pajamas, Matt only wearing pajama pants while I threw on an oversized shirt and spandex shorts, we laid on his bed and he had his arm around me.

I was kind of cold since it was raining outside, “Matt I’m cold, can we cuddle?” I whined and moved so I could wrap my arms around Matt’s torso after he nodded yes. I laid my head on his chest and brought my right leg up to lay across his thighs. Matt ended up moving his arm to wrap around my waist while using his other to play with my hair.

“You know, you’re really pretty Y/n/n, and so cute when you cuddle with me like this” Matt said as his grip around my waist got tighter in a possessive way. I blushed, “You’re cute too Matty, I love your eyes but sometimes you make me nervous when you stare at me” I pouted making him laugh, “I’m sorry, I just like looking at you” he said before kissing the top of my head.

We laid like this for a while as I mindlessly traced random shapes onto his chest. I moved my leg to try and get closer to Matt because I was still cold but I failed. Letting out a loud huff of annoyance, “Matty I’m coooold!” I whined with a pout, once again moving my leg so that I was now almost straddling him.

Matt let out a small laugh when I wrapped my arms tighter around him and moved to hide my face in his neck. I guess I was moving my leg too much, trying to get comfortable, because Matt let out a grunt and grabbed my thigh to stop it from moving. “God, Y/n are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious?” he asked making me confused.

“What are you talking about” I questioned confused as I moved my head back to his chest, “Y/n there’s no way that you don’t know what I’m talking about. Now I asked you a question; are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious?” he repeated. I moved my head to look at Matt’s seemingly unamused face, “I’m not doing it on purpose, I didn’t mean to…” I pouted, genuinely not knowing I was unintentionally turning him on.

Matt let go of my thigh, pushing it off of him and making me think I made him mad. He grabbed my hand moving it down so it was placed on his growing erection, “You fucking did this, you’re such a dumb little slut aren’t you?” he asked with a sadistic laugh. His stare was making me feel hot all over and I couldn’t help but blush.

I stayed silent not knowing what to say while I avoided eye contact resulting in Matt roughly gripping my jaw and forcing me to look at him. “I know all about your little humiliation and degradation kinks Y/n. I bet you’re fucking loving this right now aren’t you?” he said with an icy stare, making me whimpering involuntarily.

He let go of my jaw with a laugh, “Matt stop it’s not funny. Don’t play with my feelings like that” I sighed while sitting up. Matt did the same, looking at me with an annoyed expression, “C’mon Y/n/n, you’re my best friend. How could you not know that I have the biggest crush on you?” he questioned. I looked down and started playing with my fingers as I was suddenly nervous, “I-I don’t know… I just assumed you knew I had a crush on you and that you just liked fucking with me. I didn’t know you actually liked me back” I mumbled.

“God, Y/n/n! You really are a dumb slut aren’t you? I’ve made it so fucking obvious, why do you think Nick and Chris let me win so often? It’s because they know I’m fucking in love with you!” Matt raised his voice angrily and stood up to pace. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Please don’t yell at me” I pleaded, suddenly feeling anxious and getting slight PTSD flashbacks of my abusive ex boyfriend. Matt immediately felt bad for me once he saw how I flinched when he started walking closer.

Tears welled up in my eyes, a few slipping down my cheeks, I know Matt would never physically hurt me like that but the trauma is still there. “Hey, hey I’m sorry, don’t cry! Please don’t cry Y/n/n, I’m sorry! I’m just stupid and frustrated because being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back, fucking sucks” he tried as he stood in front of me and pulled me off the bed for a tight hug. I dried my tears pretty quickly and we just stayed there, hugging for a moment before the night took another turn.

I quietly mumbled, “I do love you back by the way…” into his chest, causing Matt to pull away and hold onto me by my shoulder. A big smile spread across his face “Say it again!” he said shocked, “I love you back” I giggled as Matt’s smile somehow got even bigger. “Again.” he demanded, “I’m in love with you, Matthew” I repeated but Matt still didn’t fully believe me, “One more time?” he asked.

Instead of a verbal response right away, I moved Matts hands off my shoulders so I could lean close to his ear and whisper, “I love you” before sloppily kissing his neck. My kisses moved towards his lips and within a minute, our lips were smashing together in a messy way. Matt pulled back just enough to say “I love you” multiple times as his kisses were peppered across my nose and lips.

“I was really gonna have my way with you tonight, but looks like I get to breed you as mine instead. Would you like that Y/n/n? Would you like to be mine?” he asked, staring into my eyes with so much admiration, love, and lust filling his eyes. “Mmm I think we both know I’d love nothing more than to be yours. God, I’m so in love with you Matthew!” “Fuck babe, I love it when you call me Matthew! Gets me so hard” Matt confessed.

I decided to tease him a bit, running my nails across his chest, stopping at the waistband of his pajama pants. Matt’s breath hitched as I teasingly placed my fingertips under the waistband of his pajamas pants. “Yeah? You usually hate being called Matthew” I pointed out, “It’s so sexy when you say it though… fuck I just wanna put a baby in you” Matt groaned. He placed one hand on my waist and cupped the side of my face in the other.

Forcing me to look up at him, Matt started saying, “I don’t think you understand how much I love you Y/n, I want to fucking marry you, want you to have my kids, want you by my side for the rest of our lives” he slowly started to tear up a little. I started placing kisses all over his face, leading down his neck. Fully slipping my hand into his pajama pants, I gave his hard cock a squeeze, leaving wet kisses across his neck.

Matt let out a content sigh, “You’ve got me Matthew, I’m all yours. Want you to put a baby in me, make me all fat and pregnant with your kid, Matty” I lowly said. “I’m gonna fucking breed you babe” Matt growled as he ushered me back to the bed, instantly crawling on top of me. I laced my fingers through his hair, returning the soft smile he gave me, “As much as I want your cock in my mouth, I don’t think I can wait, I need you inside of me now Matty” I whined.

Matt placed a short, wet kiss to my lips, pulling away and smirking down at me, “Say my name right and I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want, darling” he said. “Fuck Matthew! Please just ruin me already, I want to fully be yours” I whined, lifting my own shirt over my head. Matt’s eyes fell directly to my breasts, his smirk growing wider as he started to toy with the waistband of my shorts.

“So you don’t want fore play or anything? Do you really need my dick that bad?” he teased, sliding my shorts down before sliding off his pajama pants. “Please Matthew, I want you to fuck me dumb and breed me” I whined again, pulling him down for a kiss. The kiss quickly turned into a sloppy, wet makeout with us letting out small, breathy moans into each other’s mouths as Matt started to grind down on me.

I moaned loudly as he started trailing his kisses down my neck, across my boobs and stomach, stopping right above my panties. Matt looked up at me for permission to pull them off, I nodded and watched in awe as he slid off my panties. Matt placed a kiss to my clit before vulgarly spitting directly onto my pussy before sliding off his boxers in the process. “I don’t wanna hurt you baby, so I’m gonna stretch you out a little bit, okay?” he softly smile, slipping two fingers into me.

I let out multiple whines as Matt scissored his fingers, stretching me out for him. “I’m ready. I’m ready! Please, I need you!” I cried out, he removed his fingers from me, promptly shoving them into his mouth. Matt spit onto my pussy again, mixing it with my juices by using the tip of his cock, slapping it on my clit a few times before pushing in. “Holy fuck princess, you’re so goddamn tight- fuck! i won’t last long like this” he panted out.

“Matthew- shit you’re so big, stretching me out so good baby” I cried out as he pounded into me at a ruthless speed. Matt placed his hand on the on my lower stomach, feeling a slight bulge every time he fucked into me. “You gonna cum for me baby? I feel your pussy tightening around my cock, fucking cum for me Y/n! I need to put my goddamn babies in you!” Matt growled as he started going faster while rubbing my clit.

My nails on one hand dug into his back while the other roughly pulled his hair, making him thrust deeper. “Oh shit Matthew- I’m gonna cum! I’m cumming! Fuck Matthew, cum for me, fill me up!” I screamed out in a pornographic moan. My pussy tightly clenched around his cock as I came, Matt let out something between a growl and a whimper as he shots his warm load into me.

“Yeah, good girl, you did so well for me. Can’t believe you just let me do that princess” he panted, removing his cock. Matt slowly and gently pushed his cum that was slowly spilling out back into my pussy. I whimpered at the feeling, “Too much Matthew” I whimpered, “Sorry love, didn’t want any of my cum to drip out, had to push my babies back into you” he shyly told you.

I just realized that we will actually most likely have a baby since I’m not on birth control, Matt stopped hovering over me to lay down instead. “Matt you know I’m not on birth control, right? I can go get a Plan B in the morning if you want” I sincerely. “Are you fucking kidding! I know that dummy! Like I said earlier, I wanna have babies, get married, and create a family with you. You’re not taking a Plan B unless you want to because I’m perfectly capable of taking care of you and a baby” he smiled at me, moving some hair out of my face.

“Really? Like you really mean that?” I smiled back, “Of course I mean it, I’ll go out and buy you the biggest diamond ring I can find and propose to you in my bedroom tomorrow if I have to” he giggled, placing a sweet kiss to my lips. “I love you Matthew, so much” I said before placing my own kiss on his lips, “And I love you so much more” Matt smiled. He placed a quick kiss on my forehead before turning off the light by his bed so we could sleep.

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marypaol · 8 months

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Draco x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Secret relationship, anxiety, struggles eating, I think that’s it :)

Summary: Reader is friends with the Golden Trio as well as in the same House as them, but is dating Draco in secret.

Note: Dedicated to @miniy00ng1 for requesting! I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

___

It was mealtime, the whole Hall filled with students in different colored robes, banners hung up about the upcoming Quidditch game. The whole place seemed to be buzzing with excitement, every face having a smile as all stomachs were fulfilled. But the girl at the maroon themed table thought otherwise. Eating seemed like the last appealing thing in existence sat the moment. In fact, the gold plate in front of her seemed to be blinding, its reflective surface painful to the eye. She leaned back in her chair, ceasing the sting as she continued to push around food on her plate; she didn’t feel like eating at the moment. Not that she wasn’t hungry, she was ever since Snape opened his mouth in Potions, but now as she sat in the Great Hall, other plates of students piled with delicious food, eating felt sickening. Something was stopping her from doing so, a feeling nagging at her stomach trying to eat her alive until all she could feel was whatever this was. The feeling was sickening as well and all she felt like doing was falling face first on her bed.

“Something the matter?”

She flinched softly, fork slipping easily from her hand to the floor, a loud clacking sound as a few students looked over. Her heart pounded slightly from the unexpected voice but she quickly composed herself, fixing her hair and facing her friends. Hermonie was the one who spoke, eyes filled with concern as their eyes met each other’s.

The girl nodded and swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the feeling inside her but unsuccessfully doing so.

“Y-“ she cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m doing well.”

Hermonie glanced at the red head next to her for some sort of we’re-going-to-talk-about-this-later look but he didn’t seem to be paying any attention, too busy talking to Harry about their plan to punch Malfoy in the nose.

The intelligent girl sighed, glancing back at her friend.

“Oh if you’re certain.”

The girl suddenly felt it coming up her throat, the secret she held in for months bottled up inside her, only for her to loose her ability to speak, voice stuck in her stomach. The feeling was thick as it settled there, daring her to spill what was going on behind her friends’ backs.

“I’m certain.” She managed out, voice cracking sharply before she cleared her throat.

Hermonie gave her a concerned look before turning her attention back to the book she had provided herself. That was after she snuck another look.

The girl herself was relieved her friend didn’t push further, or she would have almost told her what was really going on. You see, the feeling nagging at her wasn’t hunger, as she was trying to convince herself, but rather anxiety. She knew something they didn’t, and as each day went on she felt worse and worse about it. If there was one thing she didn’t like it was keeping secrets from her friends. She liked expressing her feelings with them because they would show their support as kindness; both something she personally didn’t experience as often as she desired. But this wasn’t a little thing that happened in class that she was worried about, it was big. And she was supposed to keep it a secret?

The nagging feeling grew despite her mental pleads, but she tried to ignore it as she again tried to eat, but once again failing to do so.

The soft sheets surrounded her later that evening, emerald bed frames not quite fitting in with her maroon robes. Pale fingers were in her hair, stroking the stress from that day away with his touch. His lips pressed against her head briefly before he spoke. “You okay, love?” He whispered against her hair, voice almost muted but she hears him perfectly.

She nodded against his chest, his scent seeming to get stronger in her scenes just from doing so. Draco sighed very softly.

“I know something’s wrong.” He stated, letting his words float in the air for a little so she would reconsider telling him. It was her turn to sigh, this time it was in defeat since she knew she had to tell him eventually.

“I feel bad.” She explained hesitantly. She could almost sense Draco’s confusion so she spoke again, this time getting up a little and looking into his eyes. The silver drowned her, surrounding her in concern. Her heart stuttered at the sight.

She reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it softly.

“I mean, we can’t keep it a secret forever. They’re gonna find out sooner or later.” She explained. She felt him tense beneath her, hand squeezing hers right back.

“Look, loves, I know you feel bad for not telling them, and that’s okay, it’s normal, but they’ll judge us. You know that.” He said this calmly and gently, stroking her hand with his thumb while his other hand went through her hair.

She nodded, deciding to let the stress go and focus on the moment hand. She had someone that understood her, cared for her, loved her, and she was thinking about what others thought?

“What are you thinking about?” Draco asked her, taking notice on how she was looking out the window in deep thought, hand pausing on her head. She smiled into his robes, rubbing her cheek on it comfortably. She finally felt like the anxiety disappeared and she couldn’t see a time where it would come back again.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly, loves.”

“You.”

Thank you again for requesting! You’re appreciated! 🫶🏻

#draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #imagines #tom felton x reader #x reader #stories

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fatesundress · 1 year

Text

⭑ observations. tom riddle x reader

part ii here.

summary. you've been going to hogwarts for four months, and find this whole school-wide obsession with tom riddle a little bit ridiculous, and a little bit contrived. surely not all the rumours are true...

tags. smut (minors dni -_-), fem anatomy, fingering, reader who is soooo in denial, trying to worm into tom's brain like a parasite and failing miserably (me projecting), i think reader is implied to either be short or tom is implied to be tall, ooc tom because i am so far from the belief that he would ever just spontaneously hook up with someone but… it is what it is.

note. this is my first post so support is much appreciated!! god forgive me, i've never written smut in my life, and it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also, i tried my best to make reader fairly neutral, but it's late, and if i've fumbled over some description bc i'm sleepy i shall fix it in the morning ♡

word count. 5.1k

Your first observation is that nobody has Tom Riddle quite right.

He’s beautiful, yes (obvious, repetitive, shallow), and undeniably intelligent (being paired with him in Potions has proved that in a matter of weeks), untouchable (this one is a bit interesting), and, above all, unusual. The latter you like the most. It makes you feel unabashedly exceptional in all the very unexceptional gossip about him. No one ever uses that word to describe him. A rarity of charisma and charm — austere, refined, and clinically polite. Unusual has a negative curve to it that most people don’t attach to the elegant litheness of Tom Riddle, but your observations cannot be stated without the word.

It’s prompted and peddled by Selwyn’s much-too-enthusiastic vehemence in the wake of your first.

You narrow your eyes at her and say it again, no less certain than the first time. “Tom Riddle has not had sex with half the school.”

It’s a bit of a jump. Some necessary context is removed.

Riddle, once more, rarity of charisma and charm and austere blah blah blah, has been rumoured since you arrived this year from your last school to be some silent conqueror, oh-so nimble with his hands and nimbler even with his other appendages, and you — you’ve only been here four months and it’s laughable how many people believe it.

Backtrack to untouchable (this one everyone agrees is a primary characteristic of Tom Riddle, there’s no debate there) and the reason you find it interesting. Untouchable doesn’t exactly work if everyone in the bloody castle has been touching him this whole time. And it’s not as if he could hide it, not as if people wouldn’t be giddy to tell their friends of their exploits with the beautiful, revered Head Boy. And such exploits would be whispers among the halls in a matter of hours. You’ve considered this, with almost scientific determination, and it’s impossible. Tom studies all day, and when he isn’t studying he’s corralling Slytherin first-years away from forbidden corridors, attending to Dippet’s newest errand, escorting third-years to Hogsmeade, dining with the Slug Club, and — point is, someone would have noticed by now if he was disappearing into broom closets with a new lay every weekend.

But Selwyn shakes her head, because this rumour is such an integral part of Tom’s allure. He is, somehow, both untouchable and a master at touch. Distant until he isn’t, and then he can break you apart with practised, perfect hands. It’s all very mythical.

“Look,” she says, “maybe if I’d only been here four months, I’d think so too, but everyone else knows—”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve only been here four months that I have the objectivity to recognize how ridiculous you all are. He’s not a god, Selwyn, he’s a scholar, and an obsessed one at that — has it ever actually occurred to you he might not have had sex at all?”

This, now, is sacrilege.

Selwyn gapes at you, and you shake your head in surrender before you burst out laughing at how offended she looks. “Fine, whatever. Consider the matter dropped. I give up.”

You don’t really give up. It’s very fun research.

Your second observation is that unusual is not an apt enough word for Tom, and maybe you don’t possess the vocabulary to think of one that is.

You’re in the Restricted Section. This is unrelated to your Tom research, and perfectly sanctioned, with a key granted by the librarian who you feel sorry to admit you have not remembered the name of, and the library, by all means, is still open. It’s a late Thursday night, but not past curfew. You’re there with a study partner you rather wish you weren’t — Gregory Godefrey, Gryffindor (the alliteration is nauseating), and the only half-decent fellow in your Ancient Runes class, but not especially bright. You feel more like his tutor than his partner. In short, the regular books on the topic you’re writing your end-of-term essay on are slim pickings, and thus — Restricted Section.

“So,” you say, “the scriptures might look the same, but they’re written in vastly different time periods, so the meaning has changed. If you were to charge a spell with one of Ashe’s runes now, there’s almost no doubt you’d get a completely different result.”

“I don’t get it,” Godefrey grumbles sleepily into his sleeve. “How’s anyone meant to use runes if they can just change like that?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Any magic can change, Godefrey. Half of the stuff we learn is based on intention and skill. Uagadou barely even uses wands — all of this is arbitrary.”

“My head hurts.”

“Then… just… just go to bed. I’ll finish up here and we’ll try again on the weekend.”

He grins with heavy eyes, lugging his bag over his shoulder and leaving you a packet of sherbet lemons you bitterly wish he’d pulled out sooner. “Wicked — you’re the best. See’ya.”

“See you…” you mumble, unwrapping one and popping it in your mouth.

You don’t stay for long, twirling the key to the Restricted Section around your finger as you tuck your books back into their shelves.

“It’s ten past curfew,” says a voice from behind you, all cool, measured authority, and you nearly collapse.

You stare up from where you’re grabbing onto your knees for balance, your heart halfway out of your chest.

Tom Riddle is there, his Head Boy badge somehow still glittering in the dim light of the library, and it’s only by the half-smile quirking at his lips that you can detect his words weren’t some sort of threat.

“Right, thanks.” You gather your breath. “I was just leaving.”

“Pity about Godefrey.”

You blink. Having worked with Tom in Potions since September, you’ve become perfectly adjusted to speaking to him… only about Potions. He indulges in polite small talk, he smiles freely, but your distance from him is the same as it is with everyone else, if only for the fact that, you suppose, you aren’t actively pursuing anything closer.

Oh. That is interesting — would he be so easily intrigued? It’s a bit cliché, but you suppose he is too.

You’re making an awful lot of assumptions from the words ‘pity about Godefrey,’ and then, you don’t actually have a damn clue what Tom could mean by that.

“Sorry?” you ask.

“Godefrey,” he repeats. “I assume you’re being made to tutor him.”

Right. He must have seen him on his way here. That would make sense.

“No, actually. It’s entirely voluntary — he’s my study partner for Ancient Runes.”

His chin lifts in some nearly imperceptible way, smiling still, and you know he’s a polished thing, an unusual thing, but it reads as an especially fake smile then. “Ah.”

… Oooookay?

“Well —” you start, a mechanical smile of your own forming — “curfew, then.”

The charm fixes onto his face like a damn ornament. You want to flick it away with your finger. “Of course. I’ll see you in Potions?”

You nod, leaving the key behind the librarian’s desk as you slink awkwardly away. Into the corridor. Off to bed. Yet another note to scrawl on the enigma of Tom Riddle.

You see him again first thing in the morning. You’re yawning into the archway of Slughorn’s stuffy classroom, eager to dump your bag over your table and empty the many contents necessary for today’s lesson.

There’s one girl, the oldest of the Lestranges, who glares daggers into the back of your head every class. Tom is, as always, nonplussed, asking you about your morning as you both prepare your phials and ingredients. You can’t help but shake your head at him this once, a bemused smile on your lips as you glance between him and the Lestrange girl.

“Have I offended her somehow, or is it just that I’m paired with you?”

He laughs under his breath. “I daresay that is the offense.”

You can’t help it. You’re mumbling to yourself in amazement at the bizarre, borderline cultish devotion this school has to Tom Riddle. “Unattainable commodity that you are, Riddle…”

“Well," he begins, his smile small but his voice amused, “I hope you don’t think of me as quite that far outside your grasp."

You freeze.

Are you — have you missed something? Has your casual (really, very casual and not at all unwarranted or peculiar) research for the sake of dispelling Selwyn’s obsession skewed your memory of Tom? Has he always said things like this to you? Have you always read into them like this?

One of his eyebrows rises, and it might be his notorious flattery — but if so, he makes it sound like an obvious truth, and you stammer over the jar of foxglove in your hand. Then you look away, unscrew it, do well not to put too much weight on his words.

“Hm. I have no need for you to be within it, Riddle." You say it with all nonchalance you can muster. To spit it at him in some aggressive dismissal would be to treat it like a big thing.

It isn’t a big thing. He’s talking to you like he talks to everyone else.

But you catch the barest flicker of disappointment on his face, a flash of something that might even be annoyance. Then, though, it’s gone, and he’s back to that same unshakable, confident smirk.

As the lesson proceeds, he’s once again the sharpest thing in the room.

You watch for him in the library that weekend, a bit distracted while you and Godefrey study. Without your guidance, there isn’t much studying occurring at all. Godefrey is sort of skimming the pages of a textbook, yawning, as always, like he’s never had a good night’s sleep in his life, and you’re suckling sherbert lemons until the roof of your mouth feels raw.

“What was it you said about Calarook’s Method?”

Your eyes snap from the empty doorway to Godefrey’s face. “Huh?”

“Calarook’s Method.”

“Oh.” You sink boredly into your seat, twirling your quill between your fingers. “It revolutionised the usage of runes globally. She incorporated — um — a much simpler means of translating the scriptures for different methods of magic.”

“Ohhhh, I remember now. Did you write that down?”

“Yes, Godefrey, I wrote it down.”

The final hour before curfew dwells agonisingly longer than it should. It feels like three, at least, until you’re packing your things and bidding Godefrey goodnight, tired legs dragging you down the corridors.

And then you straighten. You stand tall. (You’re absolutely normal about the sight before you.)

Tom smiles at you as he turns the corridor to approach.

“On patrol?” you ask in a friendly tone.

You’re… friends, right? Being someone’s Potions partner for four months qualifies as some degree of friendship, does it not? After all, he did say not to think of him as too far outside your grasp. That was a line if you’d ever heard one, but — you could be Tom’s friend the way everyone is his friend: wholly detached until you were needed.

“Leaving detention,” he answers with a timbre to match.

Your eyebrows raise at that.

“Leaving the second-years I watched in detention, I should say.”

You shake your head. “I should have known.”

“And you?”

“Studying again.”

“Ancient Runes?”

“Mhm.”

“...With Godefrey?”

“That is the concept of a recurrent study partner, yes. It’s recurrent.”

He doesn’t look very much like he appreciates your sarcasm.

“So, then,” you mutter, clearing your throat. “Curfew, I suppose.”

“You performed well in Potions today,” he says after you. It feels like the sort of thing someone says when they don’t want someone to walk away.

You bite your cheek between your teeth — such assumptions will get the better of you. Such assumptions will lead you down a path of crude, obsessive analysis (though you suppose you’ve been doing that all this time, haven’t you?) where you think, in some unspooling knitwork, that there are really only a select few reasons he could want such a thing. Your mind draws to the irresponsible conclusion, as he walks toward you again, a new glint in his eyes, that it’s exactly the sort of thing someone says before rumour has it they disappear into the nearest broom closet with the one they approach. This, you’ve decided an observation ago, Tom Riddle does not do.

“Thank you,” you say carefully. “So did you.”

“We make for a good pair, don’t you think?”

Crude, obsessive analysis. “Slughorn certainly does.”

“And I am asking you.”

He stops a respectable, inviting space before you. His weekend attire is a grey jumper and black slacks, his dark hair in its regular, pristine waves, hands laced behind his back. Everything about him is a request to be met, and not to step forward and close the distance himself. Close the distance, pristine waves, inviting space — you’ve lost your damn mind. You sound like Selwyn. The sugar of a whole packet of sherbet lemons has rendered you imbecilic. You’ll be off to bed, then — sleep this absurdity off.

“Of course, Tom,” you say with a polite smile. “It’d be hard to disagree with the grades I get in that class.” You grab onto your bag to have something to do with your hands, to perhaps signify you’ll be making your exit now.

He seems a bit amused to have to contort himself through the specifics of his meaning. “I was referring to our… rapport.”

“Rapport?”

“We work well together. We communicate efficiently.”

We communicate efficiently? Damn if you couldn’t suddenly make sense of the rumour he’d be applying for the DADA post in the future — that one was definitely true.

“Yes, we do.”

He steps closer. “And I remain far outside your grasp.”

You blink, and there’s a stark, sinking feeling as your eyes drift over the unmarred ivory of his skin, his jaw, his throat, his — no, absolutely not his hands — and you let yourself wonder for the first time if the rumours, albeit exaggerated, have even a shred of truth to them. One exploit, perhaps, to satisfy his endless curiosity. Something academic, like — oh, God, like the way you’ve been studying him for weeks. His hands carving a path down someone’s body to etch it in his memory, another skill added to his arsenal, a new way to work his fingers without a wand, a new way to work his mouth without a word.

It’s only a moment that you wonder it. Some flash of pictures in your head. It is, nonetheless, a moment far too long, and one you don’t know that you can return from.

Tom looks at you from under his eyelashes with an expression that suggests he's the only one in on a very funny joke, and the air is… different. Thick like the Potions room but in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar, not cloudy with the steam of cauldrons but hazy with the proximity of him, cologne and quill ink and something you can’t catch because you’re trying too hard to breathe it all in at once.

But he steps forward again, and seems to say in the slow way he moves, that if you’ll let him, he'll place a hand on your shoulder, and if you’ll allow that — well — then he'll move that hand up to gently frame your cheek. And then, and you no longer consider yourself at all versed in the realm of Tom Riddle, but you think you know what’ll come next.

You allow all of it. You know very well in advance you’re going to allow all of it.

And still, like it’s a surprise, you shiver at the feeling of his hand on your cheek, at the gleaming, certain look in his eyes. Your gaze flickers to his lips for just a second (a fleeting, tiny second you pray fruitlessly he doesn't notice) but his lips curl into the barest of smiles. Something so like him, small but unrestrained, like it never had any hope of growing bigger, but then — you’ve seen the way he grins at you sometimes when you say something stupid in class — you know he’s capable.

“You know what I'm going to do, I assume," he says quietly. It's not a question, per se — more of a statement, and he keeps his eyes fixed firmly on yours as he says it. He's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. And then he leans in so slightly it might be imperceptible if you weren’t staring, holding your damn breath. “Are you going to let me?"

“I..." You're humiliated to find you are actually struggling to speak. His lips are so close to yours you can feel the ghost of them, can imagine what they might feel like on you. Your mouth is very dry. “We’re… friends, right?”

His voice only wavers for a moment, even as his lips inch ever closer to yours. His voice is tauntingly low, and there's an intimate sort of smile there, a chastising, humorous gleam to his eyes. “Friends," he breathes, and then his lips do close that short distance, and you feel the barest trace of his mouth against yours — his lips, soft and supple against your skin. A moment's kiss. Gone as quickly as it came. “Should we be friends?”

You gape at him, breathing far too heavily for such a chaste kiss, and you imagine your eyes are blown wide, and you lick your lips for a reminder of his taste but it isn't enough. You don't think before standing on your toes to find his lips again. Of course, Tom is stood impeccably straight, his chin almost pointedly jutted so that he can look down at you, and you actually — it's horribly embarrassing — you groan, or whine, or make some sound of blatant discontent at the fact that your kiss doesn’t reach him.

To his credit, his laugh is a very small one. Had it been the other way around you would have been far less forgiving. “I suppose the answer is no, then?" he says, with the implication that the next move might be yours.

“Tom," you as good as hiss (really very foolish of you to use the word forgiving to describe Tom Riddle), “you're being... you're being mean." And you refuse to make the first effort again, even though you probably appear to be a train wreck, your chest is heaving, and you... you want him.

“Am I?" he asks, and he tilts his head to the other side, almost as if to get a better look at you. “How so?" You think he's enjoying himself far too much. But he remains where he is: close enough for you to reach him if you would just yank him toward you and be done with it, and far enough away that you can't take that step without giving him the win.

You stare at him for a long moment, and then with teeth gritted so tight you might chip one, turn to walk away. Tom makes some very hollow, annoyed sound at your stubbornness, and thank god you feel him behind you: soft, lulling, not so immovable as you.

You stop. His fingers brush your hair to the side. His mouth hovers over the skin of your neck. You shudder.

“Tom..." you sigh, half-exasperated, half-sighed, half-surrendered, but he doesn't answer or stop or do so much as acknowledge your mumbling. He only presses forward, until his breath is right by your ear and his lips, soft, gentle, are against the junction of your exposed neck, and you feel his mouth, the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin... so tender, so light that it doesn’t feel at all like something merciful.

It feels singularly, purposefully cruel.

Your third observation (if you can manage the thought) is that Tom is driven by your reactions. Every little mewl, every shudder, every gasp, he wants more of. He wants whatever you're willing to give him, and you suspect it wouldn’t be hard for him to take it all. Every movement of his hands, his mouth, his — oh, oh no — his tongue, abide by whatever you respond to most. He draws in patterns. He stops. Appreciates the speed of your pulse on the curve of your throat for a moment and then tastes it again. It doesn't seem like he particularly cares what he gets out of it. The intrigue for him is having the proximity (he greatly enjoys that you’ve allowed him it) and capacity (that, you think, he’s always had) to make you fall apart.

He's spinning you then, so you're pressed facing the wall, his chest against your back, and the way he whispers against your skin makes you shiver. You dare to think he feels it, his chest heaving against your back, his breath warm and steady by your ear. And as he kisses you you can't help but imagine what might happen if he were just a few inches lower, if he were to sink to his knees, kissing the soft flesh of your chest, and down, and down, and down…

Your eyes flutter closed, and it's clear you like what he's doing by the sound that escapes you — something loud enough for him to stifle your mouth with his palm. Perhaps a little too much. Perhaps you’ll be embarrassed about it later. But right now his tongue is brushing against your skin again, and there’s something very dizzying and hot that starts with his mouth on your neck and works its way down until it's a challenge just to stay standing. You wonder if he can tell just how weak in the knees you are right now, whether that only makes him push forward, and —

And that must be it. He must know, because you think you're trying to say something but you can't form the words, and he has to feel the reverberations with his teeth bracketing little violets on your neck, he must feel the way your legs buckle, how you're held up only by the weight of him behind you.

He must know.

He pushes forward, his fingers bury in your hair, and he pulls your head back slowly — not necessarily to expose you further, but to better see your face. Your eyes lock with his over your shoulder, and there's that hunger there, lips swollen with the print of you... and his voice, when he speaks, is as if he's only barely stopping himself. “Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head before you think he’s actually finished the question, swallowing the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. No, no — him stopping is the very last thing you want — you feel entirely rational and not at all melodramatic in saying you might just die if he stops. You want more, and he's looking at you like that’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

He bites down gently on your neck, and you gasp as your knees finally go out from under you (you almost think he planned for this with how quickly he catches you), and you wonder if he'll do something you can't bear; if you'll be reduced to a mewling, drooling mess before he's finished with you.

Your fourth observation — which really is the last one you can muster before it starts to melt into something else — is that you make him human in the only way he can understand: panting into him, fingers in his skin, white-hot and damp at the centre of his obsession. The object of his affection. You make him understand something more singular than ambition.

Want.

And then his spare hand is dipping past your skirts, and you dig your fingers into his wrist — the combination of the hardness pressed against your back, his hands marking a path to forbidden territory, his finger curling into your mouth as his lips continue their assault on your neck — it's too much. It’s deliriously, disastrously not enough. Your vision is starting to blur.

His fingers stop at the curve where your thighs part and you bite gently down on him to quiet the noise that wants to escape you. He hums against your throat, continuing to kiss and lick and bruise you. You're dazedly aware of the cool air on your thighs as your skirts halo your waist, the heat inside, the shudder as his fingers find your core, and carefully begin to circle you. You feel self-consumed, immolated, devoured and spat out again. You feel like you're still falling, and Tom is the only force that keeps you standing.

He draws in slow, expert patterns — and you think, nonsensically, somewhere very distant where you still have sense, that they can’t be expert, he must have read something or observed some — oh. He’s pushing the thin fabric aside until his fingers are pressed directly against your flesh, and he makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat as the evidence of how much you need this soaks his fingers, as they begin to sink in without resistance. Oh. Right. You don’t remember exactly what you were saying.

You gasp at the feeling of having him inside when they finally curl into you.

His finger is pulled from your mouth with a small pop, and you can’t even really muster the capacity to be embarrassed by the lewd, wet sound of it. He watches you over your shoulder, at his fingers vanished between your legs, at the drool clinging to the digit he’d quieted you with. He’s smiling into your neck now, proud and grateful all the same.

“Mine,” you think he murmurs, but it’s more something you feel than hear, some vague, hazy consonants pressed to your throat. It would be very like him, so you decide that yes, that’s probably what he said. And there’s something funny about it — the idea of being his — about what it means for him to want you so badly that he says it out loud. It feels a little bit like he’s yours, too.

Tom’s breathing is harsh, the fingers inside you moving as if they have a will of their own. Every muscle in your body constricts and squeezes around them; every cell, every neuron, comes roaring to life; and you’re fucked. You’re so completely fucked. His teeth scrape against you again, wholeheartedly pleased. This is what he wanted to see — the utter loss of you — when you are nothing but sensation, barely aware of your limbs as they slump against him. Tom is it; Tom is the only thing you can think of.

Tom is, inexplicably, upsettingly good at this.

“Look at you," he says softly. And his touch changes; it becomes slower, more deliberate and careful.

You’re trembling hopelessly. The way you coil and collapse under his touch is just further encouragement. He doesn't even bother to speak anymore, only pants, his eyes half-lidded, his lips swollen and slick when they attach to your throat again. Your whole body is on fire, and he's the one setting you alight — there is not a single inch of you that is not alive with the feeling of him, and you can barely breathe through the slow, heavy rush of it.

You think you cry at the divine curve of his fingers carving inside you, slow and soft and then intense — when you grip his arm for more friction, and one of his hands is coming up to wipe a tear away but the feeling flares in your abdomen and you're only half aware of it, really — you think your eyes have rolled back. You think you've gone somewhere else.

He keeps you just on the precipice, just shy of losing control, just far enough to leave you craving for more.

“To—Tom," you sob, gasps cleaving his name in two — you're on the brink of something incomprehensible, building inside you to something you can't help but think is about to shatter, your eyes clenching shut as you grip him so hard you're certain your fingers will leave marks. “I'm gonna—"

“I know," he breathes against your neck, hands running a familiar path along your body; he's so very, very proud that he's made you like this. He just barely bites into the spot above your collar, curls his fingers, and then you’re falling — something unfurls inside you and can’t be collected, something hot and depthless that your hands can’t clutch at from where they’re clinging so desperately to him — and you think, coming down from it with trembling, debilitating ecstasy, that he looks very much like he’d be proud to make you like this over and over again.

You're flattened, and that triumph in his eyes — the absolute satisfaction of seeing you this way, of knowing that that he's the one that did it to you — that feeling fills your mind and makes you collapse even more, makes you want to melt and flow into liquid at his feet; to give in, do whatever he says, even if all he says is just be like this for him.

He slowly removes his fingers as you come down, and your eyes are blinking for focus when he turns you around, his thumb coming up to brush over your bottom lip and you sigh at the taste of yourself as he pushes it inside your mouth. His other hand brushes away the damp, stray hairs that have fallen across your face, almost reverently, a silent worship as he takes you in, appreciates everything you just gave him.

He smiles gently at your half-blinking, half-vacant expression, his thumb still in your mouth; he watches you for a long moment in silence. His eyes are heavy-lidded and he's got a small quirk at the corner of his mouth as he pulls his thumb away and swipes it once more over your lip.

You're still not quite sure you can find words. Still not sure they'd form right as your tongue darts over the residue of Tom's finger and you flush impossibly hotter at the feeling of your own arousal on your mouth. Tom fixes your hair behind your ears and it doesn't seem like he's ready to stop taking you in in this state — your hair wild, lips swollen, throat bruised and dress askew — and he leans in so tenderly it startles you, pressing a faint, almost imperceptible kiss to your forehead.

“Tell Godefrey he’ll be needing a new study partner. I think you’ll find yourself committed elsewhere." And with that he turns on his heel, perfectly composed, and disappears into the darkness of the midnight corridor.

Oh God, you think, and you’re too stunned to even react as you watch him vanish. It takes you a moment before you regain your senses, and you can only just manage to sputter out a breathless, miserable sigh into the air before you.

You are so completely, utterly fucked.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #for now...#harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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cherrycola27 · 4 months

Text

A Favor Among Friends

Masterlist Next Part

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, historical inaccuracies. Regency era men and ideals. Eventual Smut. RegencyEra!AU Banner Credit @thedroneranger

...........................................

Part 1: The First Ball of the Season

Dearest Reader,

I am sure you, just like I am, are buzzing about the upcoming social season. This year's marriage mart is filled with the cream of the crop and overflowing with perfectly beautiful ladies and perfectly handsome gentlemen.

This narrator is excited to see what matches are made this year.

But before the first ball of the season, I hope you all place your bets as to which ladies will find success and which will be left broken hearted.

All eyes this year, seem to be on the house of Lord and Lady Beaumont. At the ripe age of six-and-twenty, their daughter, Miss Y/N Beaumont, enters her fourth social season without a husband. With het older sister being the Dutchess of Miramar, and her older brother set to inherent the family title, one can only wonder why Miss Beaumont has yet to secure a match, and what her family plans to do if she fails again this season.

However, it seems there will be some excitement that many young ladies, and their mamas can look foward too.

After an extended period away in the Americas, this narrator is thrilled to report that the Viscount Bradley Bradshaw has returned to London in hopes to take a wife this season. The only question is, who will be the lucky lady that will catch his eye?

...........................................

"Isn't it wonderful to be back in London?" Your mother chirped from the carriage. "Yes, quite wonderful." You responded, not taking your eyes away from the passing landscape. You sighed.

You dreaded being back in London. You already knew that people would be whispering about you in hushed corners. Girls would giggle and cover their smirks as you walked by, a buzz about that fact that you were old, and still unwed.

It's not that you didn't want to marry. You just didn't want to make the wrong choice. You wanted someone who was kind and valued you as more than a body to carry a child. You wanted someone who liked your wit and charm and appreciated the many talents you had.

"Darling." Your mother called, snapping you out of your trance.

"Hmm?" You hummed back as you turned to face her and your father.

"I asked if you enjoyed your time in Miramar with your sister and the Duke?" Your mother repeated. "Yes, Mama, it was absolutely splendid. William, Micheal, and Violet have grown so much since you've seen them last." You beamed as you talked about your niece and nephews.

You had spent several months helping your sister tend to them while she looked for a governess. It had truly been a splendid time, and you wished you had been able to say forever. But, your parents insisted you come home.

"Wonderful." Your mother smiled before her expression turned more serious. "Y/N, there is something your father and I must discuss with you."

"What?" You asked her. "We know that you have had some difficulties securing a match. It is very noble for you to hold out for love, but sometimes, one must forego love and find a sensible match." Your mother began.

"What do you mean?" You say. "What I mean is—" she sighs. "Your sister is a Dutchess. Your brother will inherit the estate, and you— you will have nothing. And I know Eddie would never let you go without, but darling, your father and I want to know you will be taken care of once we are gone." She tells you.

"Eddie and Clarissa would make sure I'm taken care of. So would Marianne and George." You say.

"We know they would." Your father speaks up finally. "But it is not their job. That is the job of a husband. Which is why your mother and I have decided that if you do not secure a match by the end of the season, we will find one for you." He states.

"What?" You shriek. "An arranged marriage? I will not agree to it." You huff. "You don't have a choice. We love you, but we will not let you tarnish the family name by becoming a spinster!" Your father declares.

You open your mouth to respond, but he shoots you a look that lets you know his mind is made up and that this conversation is over. You sulk into your carriage seat and refuse to look at either of your parents for the remainder of the ride.

............

Your first few days back in London are a flurry of trips to the market, the jeweler, and the modiste. Your mother insists that a new wardrobe will help in your quest to sequester a husband. You're fitted with beautiful drapes of satin and silk and lace for what seems like hours until your mother deems you finished. She does allow you to pick the colors of your garments at least, and so, for the first ball of the season, you choose a deep shade of burgundy. You've always been fond of the color. Even though some would say it's melancholy, you think it's just right. The thought of a dress in that color gives you the tinest bit of hope as you prepare for the season.

..........

Viscount Bradley Bradshaw was not thrilled to be back in London. He would much rather be in the countryside, but he had ignored his estate for too long, and it was now to the point that he could no longer manage on his own. He needed a wife. Someone else to share the burden with.

He didn't need, nor really want, a love match. But he did want someone smart, sensible, kind, and willing to bear his heirs. He wanted someone he could have a conversation with, and that could, at the very least, be his friend.

He'd heard much about the ladies that were available this season, and there seemed to be several promising options. He just hoped he could find someone quickly, have a short courtship, an even shorter engagement, and be married before the meddling mamas sicked their daughters on him.

He ran his hands over his face in the back of his carriage. There were so many things he needed go do this week before the first ball of the season.

He needed to collect a few payments, pay the staffs wages, and head to the tailor. Many of his suits were now too tight in the shoulders. The months he'd spent traveling and made him broader and more muscular than he once was. He couldn't risk being on the dance floor with a potential wife and have his seams bust.

He glanced outside his carriage and saw the parade of ladies and their mothers walking around and gossiping.

"One season, Bradley, you can do this for one season." He whispered to himself before grabbing his journal and writing.

...............

The first ball at the home of Lord and Lady Whittmore came faster than you imagined. It seemed you'd just unpacked your trunk when your ladies' maids came in to help you dress and prepare for the evening.

They tied your corsets and stays, fastened each tiny button, styled your hair into an elegant half up, half down hairstyle, and helped you adorn yourself with a few simple jewels that your mother insisted on.

Standing back from your mirror, you looked every bit the part of an eligible bachelorette. Your deep red dress accentuated your features. The sparkling stones sewn onto it caught the light beautifully.

Your silk gloves elongated your arms, and the garnet necklace and earrings you wore matched your dress perfectly.

Your father smiled warmly, and your mother gasped when you descended the stairs to the foyer where they were waiting for you along with your brother and his wife.

"Y/N! You look most marvelous. Surely you will be the crown jewel of the ball!" Your sister-in-law, Clarissa, gushed as she hugged you.

"Thank you, Clarissa." You smiled at her warmly before your mother ushered everyone out to the carriages. You rode with Eddie and Clarissa to the Whittmore estate, thankful to have a reprieve from your parents talking your ear off about how important it was for you to find a match, and this ball would be your best chance.

The Whittmore estate was lovely when you arrived. Candles lit up the great rooms, lively string music played. There was delicious food and drinks at every corner. Lady Whittmore handed you your dance card, which you quickly secured around your wrist.

Your brother insisted on taking you on a turn about the room, which meant you stopped to talk to several noblemen and had several ask to place their name on your card.

You can't remember half of those you danced with. Just that they would step on your feet or only talk about themselves. Anytime they asked you a question, it was about how many children you wanted and if you knew how to run a house. They didn't care that you were well read, knew three languages, or that you could play the harp. Heirs, and lots of them. That's all they cared about.

After a quatrain with some Lord old enough to be your father, you stepped away from the dance floor in hopes of taking a break and catching your breath. You grabbed a glass of champagne and tried to find a quiet place to sit and have a moment to yourself. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. A large body collided with yours, causing you to trip and spill your drink, and there's all over yourself.

"Oh my goodness! This dress is new!" You shrieked as you frantically tried to dry it with your hankerchief.

"My apologies, Miss. I wasn't watching where I was going." The person who crashed into you said.

"Of course you weren't. You Lords waltz around here with your noses so high in the air that you forget to look down and pay attention." You shot back at them.

There was a moment of silence where you realized that you probably shouldn't have said that. Especially if you wanted to find a husband.

"I'm sor—" you began as you looked up. But once you saw who it was, your words died in your throat.

"Bradley Bradshaw?" You breathed not, not quite believing it was him standing before you. "Ducky? Ducky Beaumont? Is that you?" He asked with a smile.

"No one calls me Ducky anymore, not even Edmond." You say. "Well then, what do they call you?" Bradley asked you.

"Mine name, or Miss Beaumont." You reply. "Miss Beaumont?" Bradley asks you.

"Yes. I am still Miss Beaumont, even though this is my fourth season." You sigh. "Well— I have a had time believing that you of all people struggle with finding a match, Ducky." Bradley smiles at you.

You're just about to correct him again when he suddenly grabs your hand and sweeps you out onto the floor for a waltz. "What was that all about, Lord Bradshaw?" You ask him using his formal title.

"Well, Ducky. There is a young lady who has been pestering me all evening, and I needed to get away from her." Bradley said as he directed your attention to a girl who looked rather annoyed with you.

"Ah, I see." You chuckle. "So, Ducky, tell me, how have you gone four seasons without a husband?" Bradley asks you as the two of you dance.

"It is Miss Beaumont, Lord Bradshaw. We are no longer children, and I am no longer chasing you and my brother around the countryside while our mothers play cards." You say to him. "But, I have simply not been able to find someone who appreciates me and is kind. Everyone only cares about how many children I want and what my dowery is. Not once today have I been asked if I read or if I know another language or if I can play an instrument!" You huff. Bradley chuckles.

"Well, do you read?" He asks you before giving you a spin. "Yes, I read all kinds of books." You reply. "Do you know any other languages?" He asks with a chuckle. "I know three! I speak Spanish, French, and Italian!" You exclaim. "And what about musical instruments? Can you play any?" He smiles at you. "I am most accomplished with the harp." You smile back at him.

"Well, you are very well rounded, Miss Beaumont, certainly interesting." Bradley tells you.

"And you are the only person in this room who knows that. Which is probably why I am on my way to be an old maid at the age of six-and-twenty." You sigh.

"That is not old. I am not much older than that myself. I went to school with your brother, and we are both barely two-and-thirty." Bradley says as the song ends.

"Well, I appreciate the thought. Thank you for the dance, Lord Bradshaw." You say as you curtsey to him.

"No, thank you, Ducky." He smiles and winks at you before bowing and walking away.

You had butterflies in your belly for the rest of the evening. If you were being truthful with yourself, you'd always had feelings for Bradley. Ever since you were a girl, you were captivated by your brother's best friend, always chasing the two of them around your estate, which earned you the nickname he so foundly called you.

You can remember the exact moment you realized your feelings for Bradley weren't platonic. It was when you were fourteen, and he and your brother had come home from their second year at university. The tall, lanky boy you'd spent summers with had filled out into a broad, brawny man.

And even though he was older, Bradley was always kind to you. Which is why it crushed you that he went away the same year you made your debut. You'd always hoped that maybe—just maybe—he would court you.

Maybe that's why you'd never tried too hard to find a suitor because deep down, you were holding out for Bradley. And now, that he's back, you hope that this might be the year that you find a husband.

..............

The next day, you were giddy as calling hours approached. You prayed that if anyone came, it would be Bradley.

When a valet came and said there was a caller for you, you practically leaped from your seat on the sofa, only to be met with disappointment that it was Lord Artenson. He was followed by Lord Phillips, Lord Martin, and Lord Herrington, who was determined to have you as his third wife.

You sighed and resigned yourself to reading a book once Lord Herrington finally left. Calling hours were almost over, and you were silently disappointed that Bradley had not come. But really, it was foolish of you to think that he would. You were his best friend's little sister, practically his own little sister. You were his Ducky, and he would never think of you as anything more.

You were just about to head upstairs to your room and your parents to their own when a valet came in the drawing room.

"Excuse me Lord and Lady Beaumont, it seems there is another visitor here for Miss Beaumont." He spoke.

"Really?" Your father asked. "Who is it?"

"The Viscount Bradshaw."

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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year

Note

Can i request toxic ex!wanda trying to get reader back no matter what it takes after doing her wrong and not knowing her worth? And reader just being extremely mad and done with wanda. I'd love to be manipulated by her 🥰🤝

Me & the Devil

Fandom: Marvel

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Genre: Dark fic (seriously dark!!) + Smut & Angst

Words: 11.5k+

Summary: It took everything ounce of strength you had to leave Wanda behind. When you did you tried your best to rebuild a life for yourself without her. You had a new career in a city far away and you were trying to restart your love life too. Only it was going horribly for you so far. Until Kate Bishop happened. Was she going to be the person to finally get you over Wanda? You thought so, until Wanda showed up at your door. And when she did, nothing prepared you for the measures she took to get you to let your guard down...

Warnings: toxic!Wanda; strap-on use (r receiving); face-fucking/riding (Wanda receiving); unhealthy relationships; oral (Wanda receiving); fingering (r receiving); choking; dub-con; kidnapping; non-con voyeurism kinda; alcohol mention; stalking; top!Wanda; bottom!r; dom/sub dynamics; tiniest bit of mommy kink...

A/N: lol this is the darkest thing I have ever written... you said toxic ex!Wanda and I really gave you toxic. Maybe it's not quite the request you asked for but... oops. But seriously folks take the warnings serious!! And tell me if I need to add more.

It happens almost every single time. You were starting to think there might be something seriously wrong with you to be ghosted so often. This was a pattern at this point: You’d connect with someone and meet up for a date. The date, in your mind, would go amazingly. Both of you would laugh and chat and they’d usually be the one to say something like “let’s do this again” and you’d happily agree. But then after you both part ways and a few days pass there’s no text, no call, no signs of following up on that hopeful promise to meet again. You’d text them once, maybe twice if you really felt strongly about meeting, but still you’d be met with nothing. You got ghosted. In the past six months, this has happened way more times than you’d like to admit. The first two times, you could convince yourself that they just weren’t that into you. It wasn’t you, it was probably them. But then it kept happening and happening and happening. How long could you say it wasn’t you? What were you doing to repel so many people?

After the last date you went on and then were subsequently ghosted, you were really considering giving up hope. But then somehow you got convinced to try again. This time it was a little different though. It wasn’t someone you met on a random dating app or a girl who happened to randomly pass her number to you at a coffee shop or a bar. No, this time it was someone you actually kind of already knew. It was someone you worked with, someone you already had a sort of established friendship with.

Usually, you’d be hesitant to agree to dating someone who had a professional relationship with you. Not to mention, she was kind of above you in the chain of command at your work. But when Kate Bishop waltzed right up to you and asked you out she was so charming and kind. She reassured you she would understand if you said no and that nothing would be weird if it didn’t work out. She smiled at you in the most endearing way and never failed to make you laugh even from your very first day working with her. Why wouldn’t you say yes? Honestly, you were just shocked she saw you as anything more than a work friend. So yeah, you decided to agree to a date. After all, it would be incredibly hard to ghost someone you have to see regularly at work. If things didn’t work out, she promised you’d still be friends and it wouldn’t affect the workplace. And while, yeah, a lot of people probably say that, you really believed that she meant it.

Prepping for the date had you honestly giddy this time. You asked some friends to accompany you to the mall so you could buy a nice outfit. When you asked what the date would be, Kate gave you the name of an entirely too expensive restaurant. She promised it would all be on her dime, no matter how much you protested. Her exact words were that she wanted to “sweep you off your feet” and you couldn’t help the blush that reached your cheeks when she said that. So, if you weren’t paying then the least you could do was invest in something nice to match the place she was taking you to.

Honestly, you were actually really excited about all of this. You had never thought of Kate as more than just a coworker, but you were really ready to see where this night could go. It felt like a turning point for you after all you had been through. Six months of getting ghosted was one thing, but all of that really added salt to the wound that was your horrible breakup that happened prior to all of those failed dates. This would be different though, at least you hoped. While you didn’t get to know all the other people who ghosted you well enough to know their character, you did know Kate. She was almost the exact opposite of your ex. She was kind and patient. She wasn’t so damn serious all the time either. Wanda was… well, you didn’t even know where to start. She was cold, she was controlling, and more than anything she had a darkness in her that put you on edge. She didn’t seem to listen to you and only wanted to pay attention to what you had to say when you said that you were leaving her. It was like all you were was a toy to her and it made you miserable. The fights you two had towards the end still shook you. When you and Wanda got together it all happened so fast. One day she saw you and then suddenly she was everywhere. In a blink you found yourself in a relationship with her and you didn’t even know how it all happened.

Not that you didn’t want to be with her. You had loved Wanda. You had loved her so profoundly, so deeply, so painfully that it was all you knew when you were with her. But then she grew different. More controlling, less caring. After a while you realized it wasn’t the healthiest situation to be in and you begged her for a change. Maybe you would’ve stayed and even dealt with her temperamental nature if she at least opened up to you, but it just didn’t feel like an equal relationship. She expected too much from you with nothing in return. It didn’t feel like love anymore, it felt like ownership. That change you pleaded for never came, so finally you pried yourself away from her.

The thing is, you knew once you left Wanda, you really had to leave. It wasn’t just that you packed your stuff and found an apartment. It was that you picked up your whole life and moved it to another town across the country. You found yourself an apartment and a job before you even left to make sure you had stability and wouldn’t chicken out. That was ten months ago. It took you four to feel like even trying to get back out there. Even though it went rather horribly up until now, with Kate, you thought maybe you could be ready for something real again.

Except, when the night you’d found yourself eagerly waiting for came and went with no sign of Kate, all those thoughts of restarting your romantic life plummeted. You had gotten to the restaurant, donning the beautiful dress you had bought for this very night. Bragging wasn’t really your thing, but as you got ready and gave yourself a once over in your apartment, you thought to yourself that you had this in the bag. If she was going to sweep you off your feet with a nice night out, you were gonna make her jaw drop with the way you’d make your entrance.

Admittedly, you were early to the restaurant than Kate requested you meet her at. She had a reservation for the both of you so when you walked in you immediately asked to be seated. You couldn’t help the way you fiddled with the silverware in front of you as you anxiously waited for her to slide into the chair across from you. Only when the agreed upon time came and went, you felt that pit in your stomach that said your hopes were about to be shattered. At first you told yourself it was Kate, she was often a little bit late to just about anything. But then ten minutes passed and then twenty and suddenly you were feeling embarrassed and sick to your stomach and furious all at the same time. You paid for the glass of wine you had ordered and nervously sipped on before walking out of that gorgeous restaurant that promised a fabulous meal with nothing but an empty stomach.

You weren’t sure if it was the wine that you had mixed with a lack of food or the fact that your eyes were already tearing up in anger just the tiniest bit when you told the waiter you wouldn’t be eating, but you weren’t pleased. As you stormed your way out of that restaurant and waited for an uber to take you home, you didn’t hesitate to shoot Kate what was probably the tenth text in a row. Each one was a little more angry than the last. Of course, it didn’t start out angry. Your first few were concerned but a little joke-y, but then when it became apparent she wasn’t anywhere to be seen, well, then you didn’t hold back too much.

What was work going to be like when you finally saw her on Monday? You had this naive little idea in your head that you and Kate would hit it off so well that she’d want to spend the whole weekend with you. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you really thought you could predict that you and Kate would fall into this crazy, cliche romantic relationship after what was supposed to be a dazzling first date. Honestly, you had kind of expected to not be going home alone, or maybe not going home at all. Kate even joked as much when talking about what to expect for this date. You had rolled your eyes at her bluntness, but if you were being honest with yourself it had given you a little thrill.

All of that is gone now. The uber picked you up and dropped you off and all the while you somehow managed to keep it together. The tears that threatened to slip through back at the restaurant had been restrained as you sat alone in the back of the car and blankly stared at the thread of messages you had sent to Kate. They all sent, but the last message to be read by her was the one you sent saying you were on your way. Fucking typical, she chickened out at the last second and couldn’t even tell you to turn around.

The more you thought about it as you climbed the stairs of your apartment complex, the angrier you got until you could tell the emotions you were holding back were starting to overflow. Damn, you had been actually excited for this night. Yeah, when you matched with people and agreed to a coffee date with the others you had a little excitement for them too, but not like this. Not like Kate. She felt like this beacon in the darkness that was the last ten months. She felt like she was the one to pick up the pieces from what your last relationship did to you. How could you have been so wrong?

Now, instead of having a crazy romantic night like you had hoped, you were going to change out of your gorgeous outfit and fall apart alone in your bed in your coziest pair of pajamas. It was a pathetic way to spend the evening, you thought to yourself as you got closer to your unit. How could it possibly get any worse?

“(Y/N),” A familiar voice said from right behind you as you approached your door. You hadn’t realized anyone was even behind you as you made your way to your apartment, so the presence of anyone was going to make you jump out of your skin. But when you heard your name being called your blood ran cold and alarm bells went off. Surely it couldn’t be who you think it is…

You whipped around so fast it made you lose your balance on your heels. A hand shot out quickly though, wrapping slender fingers around your elbow and steadying you. “Hey,” the voice said and you swallowed hard.

Now that you were face to face, the source of the voice was exactly who you thought it was. Wanda stood there entirely too close to you, with her hand still wrapped around your arm. All you did was gawk at her, in utter disbelief of the turn the night just took. If there was anyone you were expecting to show up, it was certainly not her. You had hoped, as you made your way back home in disappointment, that Kate would be waiting right outside for you. Of course, knowing your luck these past few months, it was the last person you’d ever want to see showing up after such an awful night.

The circumstances alone made you want to double over in fits of laughter. It was all so just on point with how your life has gone since you left her. Of course Wanda would show up after yet another failed attempt to move on from her. It only feels even more like a cruel joke from the universe that she shows up before you can get home and wipe your face of the frustration tears that you shed as you stomped up the stairs to your apartment.

It took you a moment to realize that Wanda still had her hand on you and you ripped yourself away from her as if her touch suddenly burned. She didn’t seem phased by your actions, but instead was wearing a surprisingly soft expression. It seemed to add to your embarrassment and frustration.

There was a moment where you thought maybe you should say something. Right now, the only one to speak was Wanda and all she had to offer after showing up out of nowhere was a measly “hey” so there was a lot that needed to be said right now. For starters, maybe you should ask how the fuck she found you. It wasn’t like when you two broke up you readily gave her your address. In fact, you didn’t tell her much of anything when you left. You knew she had a business trip scheduled for the same time every quarter. So, you took her absence as a means to pack your stuff in a flash and leave. It was that trip that allowed you to prepare, you had given yourself a deadline to find a job and an apartment and leave and that’s exactly what you did. The only thing Wanda knew when she left for that trip was that you were incredibly unhappy with her, to which she just rolled her eyes as she walked out the door. That was the last time you saw her.

As you settled into your new place the same day Wanda was returning for her trip, you had left her a note and that was it. When that first night alone without Wanda came, you knew she saw the letter. There was one call from her that lit up your phone that night. You ignored it and that was that. She didn’t leave a message and to your surprise, she didn’t try again.

You thought the book was closed on that relationship after that. Apparently, tonight as she stood right in front of you for the first time in almost a year, you were very wrong about that fact.

“What do you want, Wanda?” You cleared your throat as you spoke. It was rough, you were trying to sound strong and demanding. But after fighting back the urge to sob the whole car ride home, your voice wasn’t coming out the way you wanted.

“It’s been awhile,” She gave you a small smile, but you didn’t miss the way she absolutely dodged that question.

“Why are you here?” You pressed again. Although, you honestly weren’t sure if you wanted to hear the answer. There were two reasons for that. The first being, you were in a vulnerable state and just wanted to crawl into your bed and lick your wounds. The second being, again, you were in a vulnerable state and if she said the right things she could take advantage of that. She always knew to say the right things. Being near her right now was dangerous. Not only because you were so unprepared to see her again, but because you were feeling so utterly hopeless and your pride was, at this point, completely shattered.

“I wanted to see you.” Wanda still had that hesitant smile on her face. She looked down at you as if she was actually nervous. Like she was trying to approach you with the utmost caution in fear that you would flee at any second. She wasn’t entirely wrong to think that either, because you were ready to run. Except, she was standing right at your doorstep, so where exactly would you run? You could close the door in her face and lock her out, but you knew Wanda. She was nothing if not persistent.

There was no response to that statement that would make you feel any stronger or even saner. You wanted to keep your dignity, even if you already looked pretty distraught. So instead you just exhaled, long and slow, before turning to your door.

What was your game plan right now? You couldn’t really tell. It was going to be a horrible decision if you let Wanda take one step inside your apartment, but you had a feeling that was her ultimate goal. Right now, you were running through different things to say. All you could really land on was pleading with her to meet you another day, when you’re less upset and tired. Maybe if you promised her you’d meet with her she would agree. Of course, knowing Wanda, if you said you’d grab coffee and catch up (which is a much friendlier way of putting what would inevitably be a very awkward conversation) she would hold you to that. But anything would be better than letting her slink right on in through your front door.

“Let me help you with that.” Wanda was directly behind you now, her hand reaching out to touch yours. You didn’t realize your hands were shaking so hard until you were trying and failing to get your house key into the lock. The way her hand wrapped around yours as she steadied it and guided the key in, surprisingly helped ground you. It was the familiar touch, even if it was brief and innocent, of her hand on yours that suddenly felt like you were able to catch your breath.

It was like a shock to your system and now all your nerve endings were finally waking up from a long sleep. It was a weird rush, no matter how brief, to feel with the warmth of her palm pressed to the top of your hand. Accompanied with that was the buzz that you always felt when she was in your personal space as she leaned closer to you from behind. And just like that, once the door was open, her hand slipped from yours and it was all gone.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a minute and took a deep breath. The rush of feelings with just that small of a touch from Wanda was not a good sign for you and definitely not a good sign for your will power either.

Wanda waited patiently behind you as you began to take the first step into your own apartment. To your surprise, when you turned back around to face her, she hadn’t crossed the threshold. Knowing Wanda, you had expected her to push her way in, to already have one foot in the door as she convinced you to let her stay. But no. Not this time. Instead, Wanda stood there patiently, her eyes boring into yours as she studied your face.

She still had the posture and facial expression of someone who was trying to be incredibly delicate. It was as if she was totally aware that she was walking on eggshells and, for the first time since you’ve known Wanda, she actually cared not to misstep. You were surprised to see her at your doorstep tonight of all nights, but even more so you were in complete disbelief at how patient she was being. If you were to have bet your money on anything, it would have been that the next time you saw Wanda she’d tear you a new one. Maybe she’s changed. Maybe this is why she didn’t contact you after that first night when you left. Was there hope that she could’ve taken a step back and looked at the way she treated you? Why did your brain automatically go to this idea that she actually took the last ten months to work on herself and now she was back to apologize and show you she’d grown?

Your last thought shot anxiety straight through your veins. That was a slippery slope your thoughts were going down. A slope that might lead into you crashing painfully into the emotionally unavailable wall that was Wanda Maximoff. Except, she was still waiting there, with bright shining eyes that told you she was just relieved to finally see you again. And you, well, you were just standing there in the gorgeous dress you spent way too much money on for a girl you’d known for ten months who didn’t even have the decency to text a rejection to you after promising you the night of your dreams. So why not let the woman who did actually show up and was trying to be kind to you in for the evening? And what’s one more glass of wine? At least this time you’d have company so you wouldn’t just be drowning in your pain and humiliation.

“Do you…” You paused for a moment watching Wanda’s face for any signs of insincerity or some kind of nefarious plan. She looked back at you with nothing but a soft smile and hope in her eyes. “Do you maybe want to come in for a bit? We can- I dunno… talk?”

“I’d love that.” And just like that you watched as she entered your apartment. When you got this place you had made one promise to yourself and that was to never let Wanda in if she ever found you. You had thought that the minute you’d let her back in she’d consume your life all over again. But here she was, at your doorstep, acting like a completely different person and suddenly that promise to yourself went out the window. You were so taken aback by her patience and gentleness with you in the brief time you’ve been reunited that you didn’t think to ask one important question. How the fuck did she find out you lived here?

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, she just never showed?!” Wanda leaned back in shock as you nodded vehemently. You two were currently sitting on either side of your couch, with half a bottle of wine already gone through. It had started out as small talk once she entered your apartment. Yes, it was awkward at first, but at least the wine had loosened up some of your nerves. Wanda seemed more relaxed than you had ever seen her. You never thought you’d be describing her this way, but she almost seemed bubbly. It was like a whole new Wanda was sitting right next to you and you were loving everything you were seeing.

The conversation stayed on you the whole time, which also was a bit surprising. Wanda wanted to know how you were doing and even praised you for how independent you had become. It was shocking, but with every proud smile she gave you, you felt your heart swell with pride for yourself as well.

Somehow, eventually, Wanda asked you why you were so dressed up. That’s when you were surprised by the wave of guilt that hit you in the gut. You shouldn’t feel guilty. It’s been almost a year, so there was nothing to feel remotely bad about. Except, when she asked you that question, you looked down at your lap and fiddled with an invisible string while you mulled over possible ways to respond in a way that made you feel less ashamed.

To your utter surprise, Wanda didn’t even flinch when you decided to tell the truth and confess that you had a date with your coworker who didn’t show. Instead, the part that made her so emotional was the fact that Kate stood you up in the first place, not that you would have a potential new romantic partner that wasn’t Wanda. Where was all the possessiveness she usually showed? You haven’t had the chance to ask Wanda what she had done in these past ten months apart, but you had a feeling you were in for a long, inspiring story about how she’s ready to be a better woman. Even if you didn’t know the full story, you could see in the way she was upset for your pain and only your pain that she had really grown. It was this change that had you so mesmerized by her. It was this display of compassion for your bad night that had you scooting closer to her until your knees were touching. And when Wanda’s hand, after waving in shock as you admitted that you still haven’t gotten a single text from Kate, had innocently landed on your bare knee just below where your dress ended, you didn’t move it.

“Well, she’s made a huge mistake,” Wanda shook her head. “I mean look at you…” The hand that wasn’t on your knee motioned to your whole body.

“I know! I paid a lot for this dress, you know.” You giggled, shocked that the sting of tonight’s rejection wasn’t quite as strong as it was a few hours ago.

“And it was worth every penny.” Wanda’s eyes darkened slightly as they raked up your body. “You look… fucking incredible.” Her voice was slightly lower as she said those last two words and suddenly you felt something shift. It was like something heavy filled the air, an electricity that was almost too much to bear.

Wanda looked back up and locked eyes with you. That gentleness that you had seen all evening was replaced with something else and suddenly you realized you were currently standing on a metaphorical cliff, one more step and you were about to fall right back into Wanda.

But then she leaned forward and you found yourself leaning too. She was right there next to you, with barely any space separating you two. The smell of her familiar perfume suddenly felt stronger and had your head swimming. The warmth that radiated from her presence was blanketing your entire body, and all you wanted to do was close the gap. Why not jump off that cliff? Obviously, nothing else you’ve been doing has worked so far. This was a sign, the girl you were excited for didn’t even have the respect for you to show up, but who did show up? Wanda. And the whole time she’s been sitting and listening and not pushing anything. She’s changed, that’s what you wanted. You had told her as much when you had all those arguments up until the end. Sometimes it takes a major leap for someone to right their wrongs finally and that seems like what was going on here. That’s what you hoped was happening. So why not indulge? You closed the gap.

The way Wanda let you come to her was surprising. Old Wanda was usually too guarded to let you take the lead, but she was letting you now. Your lips met hers in a hesitant kiss at first, but soon it grew into more. It was familiar and new all at the same time. You surged forward and tangled your hands in her hair and all the while Wanda let you. When you leaned back, pulling her with you, your lips still connected, she happily followed until she was hovering over you. Not once did either of you break the kiss. It was soft, but still had a hint of desperation on your part. Wanda let you take the lead, with your tongue tentatively running against hers when her lips parted for you.

While Wanda’s willingness to let you take the lead shocked you, she still showed that she was enjoying the kiss just as much as you were. When your head met the arm of the couch and Wanda’s body came with you as you leaned back, you felt the way she rolled her body into yours. It was a subtle movement, but you could tell it was her way to get as much contact between the two of you as possible. Meanwhile, the more Wanda pressed her body down against yours, the more your dress rode up. You were so lost in the way Wanda’s lips felt on yours that you jumped when you felt her knee press between your legs. That act felt like someone pouring ice cold water straight on your body.

“Wait!” Your voice was muffled by the way Wanda was still trying to kiss you, but when you pulled back she stopped. Your hands moved down to push at your dress, trying to cover more of you as Wanda shifted her weight so she could still hover over you but get some distance from your face.

For a moment, as you looked up at her, both of you breathing hard from the intensitive of it all, you thought you saw a flash of anger appear in her face. It was brief. A blink and you’ll miss it kind of moment, but you swore you saw it. It was like a crack in the perfect Wanda that sat with you all night. You had stopped the kiss because you thought it was going too far for one night, but when you did you were hesitant if it was the right call. Now, even though admittedly you could be wrong, you were glad you stopped.

If there was one thing you recognized on Wanda, it was the look she’d get when things didn’t go exactly the way she wanted them to. When you pulled back, it was such a brief moment, but you could’ve sworn you saw that familiar look. But then she was looking back down at you again with that gentleness you had seen all night, except this time things felt different. It was like all the warning bells were going off in your brain now. Something inside your mind told you that you had fallen into a trap and now you were too far into it to get yourself out.

But then another part of your brain wanted so desperately to shake that off. She had been so gentle with you, so kind and caring. It was a whole new side of Wanda and it was one that you had dreamt of for so long, especially in the early months after your break up. It wasn’t even like she was the one who started the kiss. You kissed her. Not only that, but you were the one to pull her on top of you. It wasn’t like it wasn’t enjoyable. It was everything you missed. It was fucking fantastic. Still, something told you to watch your back.

You were trying so hard to shake that paranoia off. It was probably just a new form of trust issues you’ve developed after being rejected constantly for the last six months. Yeah, that’s what it had to be. Right?

A moment passed and neither of you had moved after you had tried to push Wanda back. She remained hovering over you and suddenly you felt so small lying there beneath her. Finally, you pressed a hand to her chest, trying to indicate to her to move off you. She didn’t budge.

Instead, she stayed there, staring down at you. The look of anger never came back, but that gentleness wasn’t there either. It was all replaced with an emotion you couldn’t quite place as she cocked her head and flicked her eyes to where your hand pressed against her before looking back at your face.

It seemed like she was calculating something. Like Wanda was trying her hardest to plan her next move with you and was weighing her options. It was in that very moment that you realized the gentleness, the patience, the lack of anger when you told her you had tried to start dating again, all of that was an act. She really was a wolf in sheep’s clothing and she had you pinned right now.

A shiver ran down your spine as that realization sunk and it did not go unnoticed by Wanda. It was like a spark that lit a fire in her, when she saw you react like that. You were helpless underneath her and that was all it took for her innocent facade to melt completely away. She leaned back down, attacking your lips with her own in an instant.

Your hands braced against her chest as she leaned back down, putting more of her weight onto you as she kissed you. Every alarm was going off in your mind as she kissed you with an intensity that had you spinning. Your mind told you to push back, to make her stop, but then it was always this shift in Wanda that got to you. She was kissing you with that same passion that had you weak at the knees. You always hated how possessive she was with you in public, but in private it always had you reacting in a way that you really should’ve felt more shame for. And she was kissing you with that same, desperate, possessive energy you wished you didn’t miss.

The hands that were bracing Wanda’s chest were now grabbing at the fabric of her shirt as her tongue licked into your mouth. Her knee went right back to where it was, pressing in between your legs. You groaned against her mouth when she pressed it a little harder and you could practically feel how smug she was when she felt your hips roll onto her leg to gain more contact.

Wanda pulled back on her own this time. You were breathing hard and you could tell your face was flushed from how worked up you were just from a little bit of contact and her kiss. “This is going better than I thought it would,” Wanda let out a low chuckle as she knelt above you. You gave her a skeptical look as you tried to catch your breath. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight, but I guess I didn’t need to try too hard to remind you.”

“Wh- What are you talking about? Remind me?” You stammered, your head swimming.

“That you’re still mine,” she hissed.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you. None of tonight with her had been real. She hadn’t changed, you had just felt sorry for yourself and were vulnerable so you let yourself dream and pretend. Now, you were facing the consequences of your actions. You had fallen back into Wanda and backpedaled on every little bit of healing you had done after leaving her. The worst part was, as she looked down on you with such self-satisfied triumph, you weren’t sure if you could claw your way back out again.

You sat up then, trying to squirm your way out from under Wanda. She didn’t move, but she did let you. When you tried to stand from the couch, it felt like your legs were going to give out from under you. She had you so disoriented from her whole act that you could barely stand on your own two feet.

“I think…” You kept your eyes glued to the floor as you spoke. “Wanda, I think you should leave.”

“Oh?” Wanda cocked her head to the side as she stood up too. You had taken a few steps away from the couch, but Wanda was quick to rid you both of the distance you had so desperately tried to create. “I don’t think that’s what you really want.”

“Yes, it is.” You weren’t convincing. Anyone would be able to tell you were two seconds away from buckling again and begging for forgiveness. This whole scenario felt disturbingly familiar.

“I don’t think so,” Wanda taunted. She took another step towards you and you stood there frozen. “I think you’re dying to beg me to stay.” The once exciting charge in the air changed even more until all you felt was the painful buzzing in your ears as your body shook with an excitement you were trying so desperately not to acknowledge. It was impossible to ignore though, especially when Wanda was stepping up into your space again, brushing her whole body against you as she slipped behind you.

“No…” you whimpered your response to Wanda, but even you knew you sounded pathetic.

“Shhh,” Wanda cooed. Her hands moved to brush hair from your neck before you felt the tips of her fingers dance on the exposed skin. You still stood there, locked in place, trying to hold back a shiver as Wanda’s lips pressed to your neck from behind. Your eyes screwed shut when you felt her brush them up to your ear. Her breath against the shell of your ear made you shiver and your hands balled into fists. “Do you really want to be alone tonight?”

She was turning your vulnerability against you. Of course you didn’t want to be alone tonight. But did you really want to spend the night with your apparently still toxic ex-girlfriend? As much as you wanted to say fuck no, you did. God you wanted her. Maybe you had never really even stopped wanting her.

You didn’t have to answer for Wanda to know exactly what you were thinking. She had her hooks into you and you were hers again. Or maybe you were always hers and even when you were free from her you never really were. With how easily you fell back into her after almost a year, you were starting to think you were really overestimating how much progress you made.

Wanda’s lips brushed your ear before you felt her hands on you now. They were making their way up your body, starting at your waist and moving to your chest in a way that almost made you feel manhandled. “You’re going to have to convince me,” Wanda’s voice was sickeningly sweet in comparison to the way she groped and squeezed at your breasts through your dress.

“Get on your fucking knees,” Wanda growled, the false sweetness leaving her voice and being replaced with a demand that had you jump. To your surprise it was like your body was compelled to do exactly as she said. You dropped to your knees and she stopped in front of you. The grin that spread across her face was menacing enough to make you gulp. She had a glint in her eye that told you any sort of soft, caring charade she had when she appeared at your door was long gone. No, that was all an act to get you to invite her in and invite her in you did. Now you were at her mercy and the thrill of that was clearly getting to the both of you.

As ashamed as you should be to have fallen back into Wanda Maximoff like you said you never would, you couldn’t help but feel anything but nervous anticipation. She licked her lips as she looked down at you. You squirmed under her gaze as you knelt there. Wanda took another step up until she was towering directly above you. Her hand shot out and immediately tangled in your hair, yanking your neck not-so-gently to look directly up at her. She smiled at you, all her teeth showing as she smirked. “Good girl.” She purred.

Wanda’s hand moved from your hair to stroke down your cheek until she reached your lips. You stared up at her, utterly frozen, as she traced your lips with her fingers before uttering one word. “Open,” she demanded and you did exactly that without hesitation. Two fingers slid into your mouth, the whole time she never broke eye contact. Your body was trembling slightly from where you knelt in front of her and as her fingers pressed down on your tongue you instinctively began to suck.

A sadistic chuckle left Wanda’s lips as she looked down at you. “Looks like you haven’t forgotten your place.” Her voice was low, threatening almost. Your face flushed, but it was like your brain wasn't in control of your body anymore. Suddenly, you were on some kind of autopilot, fulfilling the role Wanda always wanted you to take. The worst part was, you were okay with it. You didn’t realize you even missed it, but then again you caved so easily to her. Of course you missed it. No, actually you craved it. Your whole being ached for it.

Wanda’s fingers pushed into your mouth a little deeper and you continued to let her. Not once did you break eye contact, even as Wanda’s twisted smile grew. Finally, after a moment, Wanda pulled her fingers from your mouth, only to grab your chin and keep your head tilted upward in a painful position. “It’s too fucking easy,” Wanda sneered. She let go of your chin then and you took a moment to look down and give your neck a break.

You didn’t notice then that Wanda was backing up from you for just a second. When you ran your eyes up Wanda’s legs to meet where her hands were you realized she was tugging at the buckle to her jeans. You watched with wide eyes as she undressed in front of you before stepping right back up to you. All the while, your mind was screaming at you to put a stop to this. All you had to do was kick her out, right? So why did you just stay on your knees and stare?

“Wanda, maybe we should-” You were cut off by the hand that shot out and tangled in your hair again, giving it a hard tug.

“Shhh, baby,” Wanda cooed. “Let me use your mouth for something else.”

You flushed and those alarm bells in your mind sounded louder, but still you reluctantly nodded. There was something deeper inside you that said you needed this. You needed to please Wanda. It felt so horribly wrong to give into this feeling that you thought you had buried deeper inside yourself. But then Wanda was tugging you closer until suddenly you were between her legs, being practically smothered by her already wet pussy and all of those alarm bells silenced all at once. That feeling you thought you had buried got stronger with the way Wanda was rolling her hips against your face and your hands went out to brace yourself on her thighs. As she began to ride your face the moans she was letting out were just spurring that feeling on until nothing felt wrong anymore and everything about tonight felt just so fucking right.

You were surrounded by Wanda. Her hands held your head still as she fucked herself on your mouth and all you could do was take in every moment of Wanda as she used you. And it was fucking glorious. You didn’t think you could miss something so much and be totally unaware of it. Or, it wasn’t that you were unaware… It was that you got so good at ignoring it that when you finally acknowledged your need to indulge in your Wanda problem it woke back up with a roar.

Wanda’s hands were tugging hard at your hair as she kept riding your face. She was moaning your name as she moved and you did your best to encourage more of the sounds she was making above you. Your tongue lapped hungrily at her clit as best as you could with each time she would grind down onto you. You didn’t even care that you were being slightly suffocated by her. Wanda was overloading all your senses right now and all you could do was greedily accept it. It was like a fucked up rush of twisted joy was coursing through your veins as she practically fucked your face. She was using you like an object, no ounce of gentleness left in her as she got herself off, and meanwhile you were just happy to be useful.

The part of your brain that should feel shame for all of this was finally, utterly switched off as Wanda repeated how good you were being for her and how much she missed your mouth when she came all over your lips. Her hips stopped after a moment and she released your hair. You took in large gulps of air you didn’t realize you needed until you felt the burning in your lungs. Wanda also seemed a little frazzled, like the intensity of her own orgasm had taken even her by surprise. But after a moment of catching her own breath, she slipped back into the collected, controlled Wanda you knew.

“Get up,” Wanda ordered and you did what she said. Your legs felt a bit weak as you struggled to stand, but Wanda was on you in a second, steadying you by the elbow so that you didn’t topple over on yourself. It was the smallest action that didn’t even really mean kindness, but you were so far gone into Wanda again that even that made your heart swell.

“Take your clothes off and meet me in your bedroom.” Wanda’s hands were back on you, already tugging at your dress and pulling it off for herself without waiting for you to fulfill her request. You did the rest before looking back up at Wanda. She looked at you with an excitement that had you curious. Seeing the curiosity in your eyes she answered before you could even ask. “I have a surprise for you.”

Your eyes scanned the room you two were in. How did she have a surprise when she came here empty handed?

Wanda’s grin grew wider until you started to feel the drunkenness that came with being with her start to get replaced with something else. “It’s waiting for you in your bedroom,” She winked.

“Waiting in my…” You were trying to connect some dots.

“Bedroom,” Wanda finished. “Now, come on.” You felt like your whole body had stalled as you tried to think through things. How was there a surprise there left by Wanda? She hadn’t left your sight since she showed up at your door.

Wanda tugged on your hand and you realized she was pulling you in the exact direction toward your bedroom. Your apartment had multiple rooms: one your office, one your bathroom, and one your bedroom. So how could she possibly know to go to the right one? Your stomach dropped as she tugged you closer.

You started to drag your feet and Wanda paused for a second, looking back at you with thinly veiled frustration.

“How do you know where my bedroom is?”

“Lucky guess,” She shrugged and you could hear the irritation in her voice.

“Wanda, what’s waiting for me in there?” Your blood ran cold as you asked that question, realizing you were suddenly terrified of the answer.

“A surprise.” Wanda’s voice was devoid of excitement as she said it this time. You realized she was getting angry and this was your warning to stop pressing. But there were two things wrong with this moment right now: What was behind your bedroom door and how had Wanda been in there without you noticing?

“Wanda, have you…” You didn’t want to ask it, but you had to. “Have you been here before?”

Wanda snorted at that and gave a hard tug on your hand, pulling you with surprising force right up into her personal space. Her hands then moved to grab hard at your hips so that she could press her own bare body into yours without you being able to escape. “Stop acting stupid,” Wanda leaned forward to whisper into your ear, her voice eerily sweet. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“W-What?” It felt like the air was knocked out of you. Wanda’s nails dug into your sides as she held you there.

“Did you think I would just let you leave?” Wanda chuckled. “I’ve been here, waiting the whole time. I know you could feel me… Especially at night.” Wanda’s nails dragged up your bare skin. “When you were alone. I know it was me you were thinking of.”

A flush grew on your cheeks and you wondered, with horror, how much of what Wanda was saying was a guess and how much of it was her watching you when you never even knew.

“Why now then? Why reveal this to me now?” That’s what was really bothering you. Somehow, the rest of this wasn’t surprising. It was on brand with how she was before you left her. Controlling and secretive. She hadn’t changed a bit. Right now, you were shocked and furious, but still you couldn’t silence the fucked up voice deep inside you that said you wer relieved she was back. Wanda was a piece of you that you desperately wished you didn’t need, but as much as you tried to tell yourself you didn’t belong to her, tonight proved that you might always feel that way.

“Because,” Wanda seemed to be blatantly annoyed with you now. “That girl was getting too close this time.”

Kate. You had honestly forgotten all about Kate. Letting Wanda touch and use you had wiped any thoughts of any other woman out of your mind. In fact, until this moment, you forgot that you should feel angry and embarrassed for being rejected and stood up. You had just been so lost in Wanda’s return that everything else melted away. But now… Now you weren’t feeling anger towards Kate. No, with the way Wanda spat out the word “girl” as she spoke, you realized she was probably well aware of who Kate was. You were concerned.

“What?” You ripped yourself from Wanda’s grasp and took a few steps back. “Wanda, what did you do?”

“Only what I had to.” She followed each of your steps with a long stride of her own. “She wanted what’s not hers. I couldn’t have that, now could I?” The way she was looking at you as she cocked her head to the side sent a chill down your spine. Maybe this wasn’t actually the Wanda you knew. Maybe she had changed. When you were together you had seen a lot of sides of her, but not this one. This one made your palms sweat and your stomach turn. You’d never seen Wanda hurt another person, but just because you didn’t see it didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of it. What did she do to Kate?

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Wanda scoffed. “She’s not dead.”

Thank fucking god, you thought. Maybe Wanda was just exaggerating. Hopefully, Kate was just fine. Although, your gut was telling you everything wasn’t quite that simple.

“You’ll see,” Wanda reached out her hand and cupped your chin. Your eyes met hers and you saw the sadistic twinkle in her eye as she grinned down at you. “It’s part of your surprise.”

You gulped at that, not liking the sound of it one bit. At this point in the night you made a lot of choices with Wanda already that you promised you wouldn’t do and the way she was acting now was making you sick to your stomach. She needed to leave, tonight needed to be over. Tomorrow you’d go to work and hopefully see Kate there in one piece. And if she was then you’d apologize profusely for whatever Wanda did to scare her off from your date.

“Wanda, you need to leave.” As much as you tried to sound commanding, your voice was weak and shaky. Wanda’s smirk just grew and you realized now she was looking at you like you were her prey and she was about to pounce.

“Now, now,” She tsked as her thumb went up to press against your lips. “It’s really hard to take you seriously when you still have my cum glistening on your lips, pet.”

You tore your head away from her and wiped at your mouth, as if that would make any difference in erasing what had just transpired between you two. You let her claim you, you let her mark you. You almost let her take you to your bedroom and fuck you senseless until the pain and humiliation of tonight were washed away. Of course, now that humiliation was back tenfold and mixed with it was a gut wrenching fear for Wanda you had never felt before.

“If I had let that girl show up for your… date,” Wanda practically spit the word out. “Then, you wouldn’t have gotten a taste of mommy’s cum now would you?”

You were speechless. The way she was talking, the way she was acting. Was this how Wanda was all along? It made you scared, so scared that you quaked where you stood. But also… the way she had been handling you all night, claiming you, mixed with the glint in her eyes as she realized she had you right where she wanted you and the demanding tone she was taking… As sickening as it was, it excited you.

Like a light switch the frustration left Wanda’s face and was again replaced with the excitement she had before. Wanda’s hands were back on you, turning you around and leading you back towards the dreaded surprise that awaited you in your bedroom. Despite what it all meant, you let her guide you without any more protest. “Close your eyes,” Wanda whispered in your ear. “And don’t open them until I tell you to.”

For whatever reason, you did exactly what she said. It was like you were wired to obey her. Like someone else stepped inside your body and now you were doing all the opposite things you should do. Except, you couldn’t blame anyone else but yourself. You knew, this was all you. This was why you ran, because you were Wanda’s little play toy and you wanted to be more than that. At least, you thought you wanted to be more than that.

The creak of the door swinging open brought you out of your thoughts and you knew your way around your apartment well enough to know Wanda was leading you to your bed. With both her hands on your shoulders, she pushed you down until you were forced to sit on the edge of your bed. Still, you kept your eyes closed. No matter how anxious you were, you were going to be good for her. You needed to be good for her.

You could hear Wanda take a few steps back from you, but you still had no idea what this surprise was. Something told you, in your gut, that it wasn’t going to be a good one. Yet, still you were so ready to accept whatever Wanda had to give you that, with a wave of shame, you didn’t think you cared whatever it might be.

“Open them,” Wanda ordered. You opened your eyes slowly, just as you were told. First, you just stared at Wanda. She was beaming as she stood in front of you. Then, you turned your eyes to the side and practically leapt out of your own skin. “Do you like it?”

All you could do was sit and stare. There she was, Kate Bishop, bound and gagged. She was helplessly facing where you sat, restrained on your own office chair. You should’ve felt embarrassed or ashamed that she was seeing you in such a state of undress, but you were still in way too much shock to process much of anything.

Wanda, in the meantime, was circling the bed. You didn’t really pay much attention to her at this point, still just fixated on the way Kate pulled at her bindings, trying to lean towards you. Kate’s eyes, at first, weren’t even looking at you. They were glaring at Wanda, as if she was trying to break free and protect you. But you knew. You weren’t the one in need of protection. Even in Wanda’s grasp, you knew that in her twisted possessive mind, it wasn’t you she felt threatened by. It was Kate. The woman who, as Wanda saw it, tried to take what was hers.

You felt a dip in the mattress as Wanda crawled to you from the other side of the bed. Once she reached you, she stopped, kneeling directly behind you. Wanda’s hands came to circle around your waist and you let her. Your mind hadn’t told you to do anything to stop her, to take any kind of action at all. The logical part of your mind told you to untie Kate, but then a larger part of you, the part that told you that you were way too far gone, demanded you don’t displease Wanda anymore.

Hands moved all over your body, running up and down your sides, groping your breasts, nails leaving marks in their wake. It was causing Kate to practically growl through the cloth muffling her mouth.

“Oh, look at her,” Wanda pretended to pout as she cupped your chin and turned your head to meet Kate’s desperate eyes. “The poor girl is in love with you. She thought tonight would be the start of some big love story. She was stupid enough to brag about it with anyone who would listen. Too bad she doesn’t know you’re really just a pathetic little thing already ruined by me. Isn’t that right?”

Wanda’s hold on your chin grew tighter and you held back a wince. You knew she was waiting for an answer, but as Kate’s panicked gaze searched your face you felt too ashamed to utter a single word.

“I almost feel bad for her,” Wanda continued when you didn’t speak. “I mean, I can relate. Much like her, I wanted you the moment I saw you too. But she and I have one big difference…” Wanda dropped your chin again and her hands made their way down your body. You let out a gasp when you felt a hand move straight down between your legs and cup your pussy.

“I already fucking took what I wanted,” Wanda snarled as you felt two fingers enter you. Your hand flew to Wanda’s wrist at the surprise intrusion, but you couldn’t help that your previous gasp had turned into a pathetic moan. “And I’m never letting you have her.” She punctuated each word with a pump of her fingers and you bit down hard on your lip to stop the sounds that were threatening to fall from you. Kate was thrashing in the chair in front of you and your eyes dropped to the floor. Your fingers flexed around Wanda’s wrist, but you still didn’t pull her away. At this point the only thing on your mind was to make her happy, regardless of the horrifying circumstances. Wanda has scared you tonight, she has made you take a giant backstep to which you won’t ever return from and she’s gone to lengths you’d never expect. Except, you were just too far gone now.

Feeling Wanda inside you again was earth shattering. You’d spent so many nights alone and in those frustrating nights you had told yourself you just wanted somebody, anybody to hold you. That was a fucking lie. You wanted- No, needed Wanda. You were hers and no amount of time or distance changed a damn thing about that. It took one night, less than three hours even for you to fall back into place with her and realize just how deeply you needed to be hers. Wanda’s goal this whole time was to remind you and teach you and Kate a lesson and unfortunately for the both of you, the lesson was learned. You didn’t think you’d ever have the strength, courage, or even sense to leave Wanda ever again after this.

With Wanda’s fingers pumping inside you and her bare body pressed to your back, your head was swimming. Never mind the poor girl who was forced to watch helplessly. Your eyes squeezed shut at the magnitude of shame you had for enjoying this as much as you were while Kate looked at you with what was possibly the most heartbreaking expression you’d ever seen.

Before Wanda could make you cum she withdrew her fingers. You couldn’t help the whimper that left your lips at that, but quickly bit your lip again to keep from making too much noise. With the circumstances, it felt wrong to be enjoying all of this as much as you did. but this was Wanda. The one person who knew your body better than anyone else. Even after almost a year apart, she hadn’t forgotten the way you liked it when she curled her fingers inside you or the way you’d get so wet from her treating you in such a rough manner.

At one point, when you were with her, you wondered what you had become. Never did you think you’d be someone who let another person utterly own your entire being, body and all. When you left you thought you could free yourself of that. But if you learned anything tonight, it was that you still belonged to Wanda. With the measures she had gone to and the way you kept letting her do whatever she wanted to you, that fact was pretty clear.

You twisted your head around to see what Wanda was doing, only to watch her reach under your own pillow. What she revealed was very familiar to you; a dark red strap on that Wanda used to love to use on you. She kept it. Your eyes widened as you realized she wasn’t going to let you off the hook any time soon tonight. Or Kate for that matter.

Your head turned back to Kate who had stopped struggling to stare in shock at Wanda too. For a moment you thought to get up and actually help Kate, if only so she didn’t have to watch what was to come next. Only, it seemed like Wanda knew exactly what you were considering, because she was on you before you could move a muscle.

With a surprised yelp, Wanda had your body turned and your back hitting the bed in mere seconds. She swung her leg over your body at that and you just stared up at her as her predatory smile slowly turned to Kate. “Look at you,” Wanda was directly talking to Kate now. “This is killing you isn’t it?” Wanda’s hands were slipping under your knees now, bending them so that they could hook around your waist. The toy was lined up and your chest was heaving in anticipation. Anxiety was coursing through your veins, but so was this hard to ignore, appalling feeling of anticipation and excitement for what was to come. For what you missed so desperately.

You held your breath as Wanda entered you with the toy that you never quite got used to back when you two were together. Now, since you were out of practice, the familiar burn of it stretching your pussy out reminded you of the very first time she used it on you. You squeezed your eyes shut again and couldn’t stop the pitiful groan that left your lips.

Wanda chuckled from above you before she finally bottomed out inside you. “Was this how you planned to fuck her?” Wanda was still talking to Kate as she began to rock her hips. “Or were you going to be gentle? See the thing with her is… She likes to be ruined.” Your fingers tangled in the sheets as you tried your best to get used to how big her cock was inside you. Your desire for Wanda was completely in control at this point, letting Wanda start a steady pace with no intentions of stopping her. The way you could hear Kate struggling made you feel sick, but the way you never wanted Wanda to stop, despite her presence, made that feeling worse.

Wanda’s pace kept increasing. Her body bent over you until she was pressed against you. The way she pumped into you was making the whole bed rock and the burn of her practically abusing your pussy had finally turned into extreme pleasure in a way that had your body arching into hers. You had totally given into this feeling now, all thoughts of Kate gone and replaced with how much you wanted Wanda to just keep claiming you in the way that she was.

“Tell me,” Wanda growled into your ear this time as her hips slowed for a moment. “Do you really think she could fuck you like this?”

“N-no,” you were trying to catch your breath as you spoke.

Wanda snapped her hips hard and you immediately cried out again. “What was that? I don’t think she heard you.”

“No!” You cried. “Fuck! No, only you can. Only you. Only-”

“Shhh, that’s my girl.” Wanda’s hand stroked down your cheek as she picked up the pace yet again. Her hand moved down your jaw until it stopped right on your throat. Her fingers wrapped around your neck and she squeezed. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt you, but still enough to make you struggle to take the much needed deep breathes as she fucked you as hard as she did.

All sounds of Kate’s struggles were lost on your ears. Your body was trembling and you were two seconds from falling apart all over Wanda’s cock. Wanda was loving every second of it. She was moaning in your ear as she kept fucking you harder, just the sight of you turned her on beyond belief. The way her hand flexed and squeezed slightly more on your neck mixed with the way she was pumping herself into you with such a force had strangled moans coming from you with abandon. It took more strong snaps of her hips before you were falling apart on top of her with a miserable cry.

Wanda’s hips slowed when you came down from your orgasm and her hand left your neck. You took loud, gasping breaths for air. Your body was spent and splayed out on the mattress. Wanda was looking down at you with such a satisfied grin on her face and for a moment all you could think of was wanting Wanda to make you cum again. Except then you remembered.

Your head slowly turned to see Kate still there, bound with tears running down her face. What now? That was the only thing running through your mind.

Wanda’s hand came back to your chin, turning your head so you were facing her again. The shame that was coursing through your veins again felt louder, more painful. Except she was stroking your cheek, looking down at you with more pride in her eyes than you’d ever seen before.

“Shhh,” she soothed. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. Then you and I are going to go somewhere far away.”

You couldn’t help the shiver of fear that ran through your body as Wanda kept stroking your cheek in a gentle way that you hadn’t seen since she first arrived. Something told you that you didn’t really have a choice, but to go.

A thousand scenarios ran through your mind about what Wanda was going to do with Kate. You felt pity for her and embarrassment at what she had witnessed.

“I’ll go.” You heard yourself before you could even think about what you were saying. “But let Kate go.”

Wanda frowned for a moment, her hand pausing on your cheek. She looked over at Kate and then back down at you, the frown quickly leaving and being replaced with a conniving. “If I promise to let her go, you must promise to never try to leave again.”

You nodded furiously, taking this one chance to get Wanda to do your bidding. Kate would be free, even if it meant that you sealed your fate. Only, little did Wanda know, after tonight you didn’t think you’d ever have the strength to leave her again. She was the one thing you wanted that you wished you didn’t. She was in your veins, she was your entire being. You were hers completely and nothing, no amount of time or space, would ever set you free.

You surrendered to Wanda the moment you saw her again. Even if you tried to leave once, you knew Wanda was going to spend a lot of time reminding you that you would never be able to leave again.

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split-spectrum · 6 months

Text

Concessions

Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: (more to come) sexually explicit content, explicit language, edging, orgasm denial (like a lot of it - that's the whole fic)

Chapter Length: 3K

Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that prevents him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him.

The rules of the trial are very clear. You make it your personal mission to find the exceptions.

☆☆☆

"They call it the Nikkama."

"A full cycle?"

He pauses, taking in your incredulous tone. "Yes. A full Coruscant cycle."

"And you're asking me to... what, participate?"

He shakes his head. "Of course not. This is simply a... personal matter for me."

You raise a brow even higher than it already was, not saying anything in response. He seems to be on the edge of an explanation, but never quite getting there. Your silence invites him to continue.

"By the end of a standard year, it is my goal to come away with a new understanding of the Force, and of myself."

"That's very... respectable," you manage. "So, if you need someone as the keeper of this... trial, why not ask a master? Why me?"

His eyes search your face. He's trying to determine if you're toying with him. The truth is, you have an idea of why he wouldn't approach Yoda about this, but you want to hear him say it.

"I had... rather thought it would be obvious."

So you had guessed correctly. But he won't admit it.

You smirk; an acquiescence. You won't make him dance around the details any longer. You are friends, after all. Friends who happen to know one another more intimately than most friends do - the real reason he's come to you with this request.

"Alright. Tell me the rules."

No sex. That's the essence of it. 'Seeking bliss through denial', as the ancient Jedi texts stated it. To complete the trial, one must deny themselves the pleasures of the flesh for the time it takes the Jedi temple to finish one full cycle.

The rules are quite simple: The Jedi must make the trial known to one witness - the keeper. The Jedi can not bring themselves to completion through sex or by any other means. There are allowances, of course. Orgasms beyond the Jedi's control are permitted. This way, one cannot fail the trial while sleeping. Finally, the Jedi must not speak of the trial with anyone aside from the keeper. Like many other trials, it was a battle meant to be fought internally.

If he failed, Obi Wan had explained to you that he could not simply begin again. One was not allowed to attempt the Nikkama for ten more cycles. It was not meant to be taken lightly. Much like everything Obi Wan has ever done, but especially like the things he's been doing lately.

Since becoming master of the Chosen One, it seems like all he's done is push himself, as if trying to prove he's worthy of the position. Having known him since padawanhood, his capability has always been clear to you. But with his new responsibilities, he seems to be seeking new and creative ways to strain himself. You know nothing you say will be enough to slow him down, so most of the time, you can only offer your begrudging support.

Three months in to this latest self-imposed trial, you can already tell the strain is starting to wear on him.

"Anakin, I've told you before," his voice carries over the crowd of padawans on the landing platform as you walk past. "The way we present ourselves is a choice."

"Yes, master," mumbles the boy in front of him, his eyes clearly more focused on the ship he's about to board than his master's words.

"...and today you've chosen to present yourself to professor Huyang with a wrinkled robe because you did not hang it properly as I asked, did you?"

"Sorry, master." Anakin's words are contrite, but the way he shrugs Obi Wan's arm off his shoulder says this will not be the last conversation they have about it.

Obi Wan looks around, clearly asking the Force for patience. He squeezes a blink just a little longer than normal, gathering himself, and when he opens his eyes, he catches you watching the display. You press your upper lip down into a poorly-hidden grin and keep walking, using the mug of caf you'd retrieved from the refectory in the temple's main hall to hide your smile.

Once Anakin is sent on his way with the other padawans, Obi Wan strides down the hall to match your pace.

"I saw that," he grouses. He's putting on a half-joking tone, but you can tell there's a current of real irritation running beneath. "You won't find it quite so entertaining when you have a padawan of your own."

You let your grin loose. "That's the beauty of volunteering for the most distant and dangerous missions. They can't keep me at the temple long enough to assign me one."

It's an exaggeration you're putting on for him, but it's partially true - you do tend to volunteer for the most exciting assignments you can find. That's where you and Obi Wan differ the most. Part of you craves adventure in a way that's almost unbecoming of a Jedi. Obi Wan starkly contrasts your eagerness, content with whatever duties he's given. He always has the serene air of a proper Jedi knight about him. And you truly enjoy pushing his buttons until his calm demeanor breaks.

"You look like you could use one of these," you tell him, changing the subject by pointing to the mug in your hand.

He looks down at your hand, then glances dejectedly out of one of the windows as you pass it. "Oh, I could use something much stronger than that. If only I had the time. I promised Master Sinube I would help him question some suspects for an investigation this afternoon."

You click your tongue against your teeth. "Poor thing."

"Yes, no rest for the wicked, it seems."

"More like 'no rest for the stubborn'."

He gives you a look.

"No rest for the decidedly overbooked," you go on, pushing those lovely buttons of his.

He sighs, shaking his head in annoyed bemusement and not rising to your bait.

You turn to face him before your path peels away, dropping your antagonizing grin. "If you're too busy this afternoon, what about this evening? We could meet up in my quarters for 'something stronger' if you'd like. I have a bottle of Alderaanian red that's been gathering dust."

"Hm. Dusty wine; how very tempting," he sniffs, crossing his arms at you.

You roll your eyes, but he doesn't give you a chance to retort.

"It's a kind offer, but-"

"But, Anakin is gone for the week and you'd rather be alone in your quarters, falling asleep early?"

"Well, yes, in fact, I would."

You shrug. "Do as you please, then. My charitable offer stands, if you decide you'd rather enjoy yourself than become a hermit at the ripe age of twenty-seven."

You turn down an adjacent hallway, leaving his mood behind you without another thought.

Later that night - very much later, in fact - you had almost forgotten about your offer when a knock at the door to your private quarters reminds you.

"Obi Wan."

You won't spoil the surprise by gloating, though you sorely want to. You just smile instead, glad to see him despite his dour expression.

His lifts his eyes tiredly. "Might I request that you hold off on any clever commentary until I have my promised drink?"

Your grin broadens as you step to the side, inviting him in. "You might request it, but my cleverness won't be silenced."

Passing you, he manages to flick up an eyebrow despite his otherwise muted demeanor. "Oh, dear. If I had known you'd started without me, I'd have-"

"You'd have come sooner?" you finish for him, sweeping up the bottle on your counter and topping off your glass.

He drapes himself over your couch, sinking into the cushions as he spreads an arm over the side.

"I may not have come at all. I would have gone to my quarters and gotten some well-deserved-" You hand him a filled glass. "Thank you. Some well-deserved rest."

He finishes his statement with a long sip, then swirls the glass and closes his eyes, pinching his brow with his other hand.

You just roll your eyes, nudging his boots to the side and sinking into the couch next to him. "Master Sinube really putting you through your paces, then?"

He sighs through his nose. "Master Sinube is a wonderful teacher in the art of... patience."

Your lip quirks upward. His patience has never been tested before by the kindly old Cosian. And it's rather odd for Obi Wan to admit it. You consider pointing it out, but seeing him so worn out by the experience dampens your desire to wind him up. You turn on the holovid screen instead.

"After a few more glasses of this, trust me, you'll feel better."

When you awaken, you feel something soft and warm beneath your face. It's the cloth of Obi Wan's tunic.

Your head is buzzing faintly as you press your nose into the fabric, breathing him in. You only marginally care that what you're doing is inappropriate. It's been a long time since you've been this close, and you can blame the drinks if you really must.

You swallow, blinking slowly as you register that the room is filled with the sound of some holodrama you've never watched before. The music is swelling, and you reach over Obi Wan's chest to press the volume button on the remote. His head turns, following your movement though he's still half-asleep.

You feel his breathing pattern change below your cheek, and you look up at him. His long eyelashes part slowly. His body shifts so that he's facing you, though he removes the arm that had fallen to your shoulder. He puts a hand on the back of the couch.

And he looks at you.

The moment where he should have moved away - where one of you should have - comes and goes.

You lift your face, staring at his lips. You know you're caught in his gaze. He's watching you, not saying a word.

The idea of leaning up to press your lips onto his is so far removed from your mind that it's basically an impossibility. You aren't padawans stealing moments in the temple anymore. Your heart doesn't pound with the fear that you'll give into your baser instincts. You're fully aware of what you're enjoying - the look in his eyes; the space between your mouths. Holding your faces so close that it's almost another kind of kiss.

Then you shift your hips, just slightly, and you feel it. You feel the way his clothes pull tight at his center. Your leg brushes the taught line of fabric just below his stomach, running up his thigh.

Considering his circumstances, it's a normal reaction. You tell yourself this as you feel a blush spreading over your face and down your neck. It's a physical response to repressing his body's urges. You try not to take it personally. You won't mention it.

You blink, lowering your gaze from his and starting to extricate yourself from his side. He swallows, pulling away from you.

"I'm sorry-" His voice is throaty and a bit slurred. "I-"

The inner side of your hip brushes against him as you turn to get up, and a soft, almost dejected moan pours out of him. He snaps his mouth shut. You freeze, looking up at him.

That noise will not be so easy to avoid taking personally.

Suddenly he's sitting up. "Terribly sorry, I- I don't know what came- came over- "

You force a smile, though your heart is racing, and you pat his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Only nine more months to go, right?"

A slight look of relief passes over his wide eyes. "Yes," he agrees, clearly grateful you've decided to blame the trial and not him. "Yes. Quite right. My apologies."

When Obi Wan finishes his many further apologies and excuses himself, leaving you alone in your quarters, you are grateful for one thing: As you lie back in your bed, imagining the way his hips had twitched at the slightest brush, you thank the stars that the Nikkama doesn't go both ways.

You'd had your fun.

That's what you keep reminding yourself. When you have to keep your eyes from lingering a little too long during a shared smile. When your heart kicks up a little faster anytime you see that he's returned safely from some far-off world. When you kiss someone else and it doesn't feel the same.

The Jedi are not forbidden from physical pleasures. There's no reason not indulge in sex, so long as attachment isn't involved. But when you'd both realized as padawans that kissing and touching was swiftly turning into longing and wondering, you'd agreed it was for the best not to continue.

That conversation was so long ago, and the boy who'd made that promise was so far removed from the man who was currently pinning you down on the training room floor.

"Yield," he pants, teeth glistening in the fading sunlight. His breath is hot, and you're swallowing it with gasps of your own.

You flex your thighs, using the Force to lift both of you off of the ground. "Not until you've beaten me."

Huffing an exasperated laugh, he looks over your head in disbelief. Then he tightens his grip on the hand that holds your lightsaber and feels where your thumb is located. He stills. You're holding the empty hilt against his side, and your thumb is just below the pressure sensor. You grin, open-mouthed, sweaty, and undefeated.

"In a non-lethal match, I have indeed beaten you."

You're just about to reply when he crushes your wrist in his palm, wrenching it upward and holding both of your arms harmlessly above your head. You yelp in surprise and no small amount of pain as he presses the weight of his body onto you, holding himself up by pinning you down.

"But just for good measure - there," he says, digging his knees onto either side of your hips to hold you still. "Now yield."

You struggle against him, but it's like trying to break out of a durasteel cage. Then you catch sight of a dewy patch of golden skin and make a move that neither of you are expecting.

Your teeth sink into his neck before you can catch the impulse, and the muscles there vibrate when he gasps in shock. He releases your hands, but catches them again quickly. His face is suddenly flushed when he pulls away.

"There can be some honor in defeat, you know," he scowls down at you.

You smirk, pleased at getting a rise out of him. "A Jedi doesn't accept defeat with any reasonable chance at victory."

You lift your hips again, this time sending a concentrated pulse through the Force to try and wriggle out from under him. He holds you steady and you rock to one side, attempting to flip him off and reverse your positions, but to no avail. You take a few deep breaths, then try rolling your hips one last time.

"Stop that."

His tone snaps you out of your concentration. You look up to see him glaring down at you, looking unsteady for the first time in your match. You hesitate, then decide to take the opportunity he's giving and make the same move again. You grind your body against him and watch as his eyes widen. He releases your wrists and rolls off of you, standing up.

"I yield."

His turns his back on you, stalking over to where you've left your water canteens, and takes a long drink.

You lie there a moment in stunned silence, then shake it off and stand up, following him. "Are you... okay? What was that?"

"It's nothing," he snips back immediately.

Then you see his shoulders soften and he turns to face you. "Forgive me. I'm not... feeling very well."

He gives you a forced smile, then reaches to pick up his robe from the floor. "Perhaps we could continue this later?"

You shrug, at a loss. "Sure."

"Very well," he answers, heading for the doorway. "Thank you."

You frown, his sudden formality making you uneasy. "Obi Wan... did I do something wrong?"

"No," he says, shaking his head. "I just need to get some rest."

You take a beat before pressing him again. "I'm sorry about the bite."

He sighs. "There's no need to apologize. The fault is mine. Perhaps... it would just be best if we hold off any sparring sessions for the time being."

"Oh?" you ask quietly. "For how long?"

"Just... just for now."

You furrow your brow. Then it clicks. "Until the end of the Nikkama?"

He looks caught-out, sending his gaze past you.

Of course. It's been six months, now. He hasn't mentioned it, but you might have known by his mood.

Now you're the one struggling to make eye contact. You pick up your own canteen, drinking, then wiping your mouth.

"Is it that bad?" you finally ask.

He lets out a soft laugh. "Well, it's not meant to be easy."

There's a long, unbroken silence as you wonder how to approach this. Or whether to approach it, at all.

"Do you... want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head. "It's simply a matter of discipline. There isn't much to talk about."

"Well," you tell him slowly, carefully. "I've read the texts. And I want you to know that if you need... help, getting through to the end, I'm here for you."

His face drops. "What does that mean?"

You take a step closer, your heart pounding as you try to put the words together. "The trial has rules against you seeking pleasure. But, everyone has needs. And if you aren't seeking it... if it- it just happens..."

He looks down at the space between your bodies, and it's like you can see every thought running through his head. He doesn't answer for a very long time.

"Anything that were to happen," he says in a low tone, nearly a whisper. "Would need to be without my request."

Your breath is shortening with every word he says. "You asked me to help you with this," you reply. "And we are friends, are we not?"

He nods. "Of course."

"Then if you need it, let me help you."

Your hand tingles as you reach out to touch his side. He gently takes your hand and lowers it, almost grazing between his legs, and holds you there just a moment too long.

Your fingers lift from his hand to unclasp his belt, but he pulls you back.

"No," he says, swallowing and letting out a few slightly labored breaths. "No, I wouldn't- No."

You wait for an explanation, but he doesn't finish his thought.

"Well, as long as you know the offer stands," you tell him, straightening up. "If you change your mind..."

"I won't," he cuts you off. "There is no- no need."

Smiling for his benefit, you nod. "Of course. My mistake."

You can feel his gaze follow you as you bend over to pick up your own robe and brush past him out the door.

In any other situation, Obi Wan would hold his own in a debate. He's quite well known for having opinions that aren't easily swayed.

In this matter, against your better judgment, you find yourself wondering if you might be the exception.

A/N: I'm planning for this to be a short multi-chapter, maybe 3-5. Completely self-induglent. I want this man to be edged within an inch of his life. I want him whimpering, your honor.

On a side note, forgive me for this interruption in posting Water and Rock! It's been challenging because I've needed to basically write the full ending before I can be sure the plot/pacing is right for this chapter. It will be up soon, promise! In the meantime I've been using this side fic as a bit of a creative outlet lol.

As always, if you'd like to be tagged for this fic, feel free to comment or message me. :)

#obi wan x reader #star wars #obi wan kenobi #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #obiwan #obi wan × you #obi wan kenobi x reader

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teatreeoilll · 9 months

Text

|| Crush (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

Short one shot, in which Gojo finds out reader has a crush on him. TW: mentions of Alcohol and smoking

"I mean, if you had to choose one of them?" Your hands slipped further on the table, your palm grazing the wood while you fixed your gaze on Shoko's uninterested eyes.

"No," She said calmly.

"But if you really, really had to?" Her eyes darted across the room, her mind in dire need of a change in conversation topic.

"If I really - really, had to," She sighs, "I guess I'd pick Satoru."

Your heart dropped at the mention of his name. I knew it!

"But really," She continued, "I think he makes a horrible team with anyone, it doesn't matter how strong you are if you can't do that, y'know? But those six-eyes are no joke, so if I had to, I guess -" Your confused expression stopped her from talking further.

"Shoko, I meant if you had to pick one to - uh, you know, "

All the confidence you mustered to bring up the topic in the first place had vanished, you slid back into the chair, watching Shoko's face shrink with disgust. "No."

The drink before you emptied quickly as silence took over the room, each time you wanted to say something you felt your throat tense as the drunk haze had begun to clear. Perhaps it really was a bad idea to talk about this.

"I have a feeling this isn't really about me, is it?" She reached to open another canned sake. "I would like to say that you can tell me anything, but I have a feeling I wouldn't want to hear this," She took a long sip, "But I'll play along. Who'd you choose?" She was far too familiar with your mannerisms, knowing you would never admit to it any other way.

For a few months now, she had been brushing off her suspicions as misinterpretations.

"I - I would, hm, maybe, Satoru?" Regret settled deeper in your throat, but you knew it was too late to make up some excuse to leave this conversation. "It's not like I'd do anything about it, you know?" Shoko's eyes widened as you spoke, she tried to utter a few protest words, her hands are signaling you to stop talking.

You felt your face turn red, "I mean, It's just a crush, nothing to be too flustered about, right? What do those last, like a few months at most? Just don't look at those beautiful blue eyes, and that snowy white hair… It'll go away on its own!" Aware that it's too late, Shoko had buried her face in her palms. That's it, the thought passed through your brain, She will never respect me again.

"It really is nothing to be flustered about. Quite understandable - really." A familiar voice came from behind, you could hear the grin in his tone. You desperately stared at Shoko, your eyes begging her to say anything - anything to rescue you from the embarrassment.

Shoko cleared her throat, "It is, very understandable! That you have a crush on this guy, who doesn't even attend Jujutsu High!" Ah, it could have been such a good save.

"Oh yes!" Gojo laughed, kneeling next to your chair with his hand placed firmly on your shoulder, "Such a shame, but it's not like you have to see his beautiful blue eyes and snowy white hair every day," He failed to hold back his laugh, "I'm sure it'll go away on its own."

You focused your eyes on the table - Twelve cans of sake, only seven open. Gojo's hand on your shoulder. Oh god. Ashtray, still smoking. Salty chip packets - 2,3 … no 4, one has fallen off the table. Gojo's hand makes its way to your lower back. How's Kyoto this time of year?

"There's nothing to be shy about." His whisper catches you off guard, his face so close to yours you were sure he could smell the alcohol coming off of each of your heavy breaths. You find the strength to stand up, your chair screeching on the floor. Gojo almost lost his balance.

"It's getting late, Shoko, thank you for the - actually, let's never drink again. I'll see you tomorrow."

You walked the dark corridor, unable to focus on anything other keeping yourself balanced after so many drinks, keeping the thoughts on solving your predicament for a more sober time.

A hand brushed your wrist before gripping it tightly and pulling you in its direction. Even in the dark, you could see the blue of his eyes.

"Listen, I really meant what I said." You uttered, watching his smirk widen. "No smart comebacks now!" You felt your chest heat up, the shame had turned to anger. People have feelings, why does it have to be a joke? His hand loosened its grip on yours.

"We're not children anymore Satoru, It's a crush. It'll be gone just as fast as it came. You don't have to joke about it, just forget it."

Never in his life had he let you finish so many sentences without a snarky remark. You tried to read his face, but the shadows covered his expression.

"Say it again." You felt his body come closer to yours, his lips almost touching yours, you didn't notice yourself stumbling backward until the wood boards on the nearest wall had pressed to your back.

"Say what again?"

"Say you have a crush on me," His voice lower than usual.

Fine, if it's going to be a joke, I guess it's better to go with it. "I have a crush on you, Satoru Gojo." As you tried to rid yourself of your compromising position his hand grabbed the back of your neck, entangling itself in your hair. Tension forms at the pit of your stomach.

"I have the biggest crush on you, Sa-" you mustered the huskiest voice you could find, but he wouldn't let you finish, his tongue already trying to find its place in your mouth.

He freed his hand from your hair just to grab your legs, lifting them up to wrap around him, his fingers digging deep into your thighs. He pauses to catch a breath, his face resting in the crook of your neck, just to huff a few words;

"Well, aren't I lucky?"

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo X reader #gojo X you #gojo X y/n #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk gojo #gojo satoru X reader #satoru x reader

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lonelyharmonies · 10 months

Text

all is fair in love and war

when you meet a guy once and forget his name, the last thing you expect is meeting him again on your new job.

pairing: haechan x fem reader genre: fluff; college!au; (sort of) coworkers! warnings: suggestive; cursing; and i think that’s it. word count: ~19k a/n.: another repost <3 i love this one very much

"How's the job search?" your roommate asks while putting her earrings on.

Another week of failed attempts of looking for an internship, you think. Maybe you weren’t in your right mind when you decided to quit your job of 2 years at the campu’s café, but it was time for you to start looking for jobs related to your field of study. You want to become a journalist, you need real experience! Did you quit after impulsively screaming at your annoying boss because you were fed up with his rudeness? Yes, but you were unhappy and senior year is getting closer by the minute, you have no time to waste. At first, your parents and friends supported you, but after almost two months of unemployment, you were starting to question your own decision.

"Nothing yet." you mumble, playing a game on your phone.

"Have you thought about what Renjun said?" she turns her head to look at you expectantly.

"We've already discussed this," you sigh and she turns her head back to the mirror in front of her. "If it was only for the money, I could just go back to 7Dream,” you stubbornly answer.

“And you think they’ll take you back?” your roommate raises an eyebrow at you “I know it’s not the best choice, but listen to Renjun this time. At least it would be something.”

Huang Renjun, your roommate’s boyfriend, is a fairly rich art major and, in your eyes, a very sophisticated person. At least one of the most sophisticated people you know. The only one, actually. But as he comes from such an influential family, you thought he would be able to find you a job at a good newspaper or a famous magazine. You had to ask him for a job recommendation because, hell, if you’re friends with a nepo baby, take advantage of them.

Needless to say you were not expecting to be offered a part-time position at a beaten-up theme park in the city. You obviously declined, being too stubborn to go from one underpaid job that made you miserable to another.

You did accept, however, the invitation to his friend's birthday party. Free food, free alcohol and some socializing, you couldn’t say no to that. That’s how you end up in an overcrowded apartment in the downtown area of the city to celebrate the birthday of Renjun’s friend that you have never seen before.

As soon as you got there, you were introduced to the birthday boy, Lee Jeno, before being ditched by your roommate and her boyfriend. Deciding that it was too awkward to just stand in the kitchen by yourself, you are left with no choice but to choose your drink: cheap vodka with cranberry juice or cheap canned beer? Hard choice.

Your eyes were scanning the alcoholic drinks shoved in the kitchen sink when you felt someone standing right next to you. You cursed silently, too tired to deal with drunk men flirting tonight. You decided to grab a beer and get out of the kitchen as fast as possible, when the person next to you spoke.

"These ones in the sink are always hotter than the ones in the fridge no matter how much ice they put in there," you turn your head to meet the person next to you, beer in your left hand. "If I were you, I wouldn't grab the drinks from there."

"So I should just stay thirsty?" you ask ironically, raising an eyebrow.

"No, you should grab a drink from the fridge," the brown haired boy smirks and goes straight to the kitchen's fridge.

He grabbed an expensive Japanese beer from inside and placed it on the counter between the both of you. Your eyebrow is raised and the boy still has a smirk on his lips. He motions his head towards the bottle, silently telling you to take it.

"How do I know you didn't spike this drink?"

"How do you know the one you just grabbed isn't spiked?" he challenges you, tilting his head to the side.

"Isn't it a little impolite of you to just open someone's fridge? Especially to grab an expensive drink to give to a stranger?" The beer is long forgotten when you cross your arms and see the boy moving one step closer to you.

"If the stranger is cute it’s fine," he shrugs and you raise an eyebrow, clearly not falling for his attempts at flirting. "Plus, I bought these,” he points at the bottle he put on the counter “And the birthday boy is my best friend and roommate."

Oh, boy, he was bold and you didn’t even need to wonder why: if you looked that hot only in a pair of jeans and a simple Adidas shirt, you would be brazen too.

"Hm, I believe you," you puckered your lips and looked around the kitchen as if uninterested.

"I'm serious, we've known each other since we were little, I’ve seen Jeno butt naked thousands of times," he blurted out and you stifled your laugh.

"That's…" you can't really find the words to answer whatever that information meant. “I…I have no words.”

"What? We barely talked and I'm already leaving you speechless?" he got one step closer and you had resist the urge to move away. "Damn, I didn't know I was this good."

"You think you're smooth, but you were just spilling nonsense," you uncrossed your arms and moved to hold the cold bottle of beer he got for you.

"And yet you're still here listening," he moved one step closer, and this time you could even see the small moles spread across his face and neck.

"I find you really, really annoying," the smile on your face contrasted with the words leaving your lips.

"I get that a lot." He chuckled and you moved a little bit closer and felt him holding his breath.

"Yeah. We need to do something to shut your mouth for a bit, don’t we?" you were looking straight at his lips and he didn't waste much time, kissing you right after.

You find yourself in a very complicated situation the following day when the alcohol wears off of your system and it seems like you remember every little detail of that party, except the name of the boy who kissed you all night long.

You don’t really have much time to dwell on the boy’s name because you find yourself getting more desperate thanks to your financial situation, so all Renjun had to do was mention the job one more time.

“The Lee family is very influential in the entertainment business, you know? I’m sure they will transform that place in no time.” He said one night.

“I bet,” you answered uninterested, eating the soup your roommate had made you.

“It’s a way of having some income while looking for internships,” he reasoned “you can always quit when you find something better.”

“Okay, you’re right,” you sigh defeated “What number should I call?”

Fast forward to three months later: you are working in the job you’ve sworn you wouldn’t take.

That’s the story of how you became a ride operator at Sunny’s Funfair Park and Recreation last April. It is a very big name for a park that small, though, you have to admit. The Funfair is just as nonsensical as the name, but it’s not the most unpleasant workplace. Plus, you found out it’s a very traditional theme park in the area, the neighbors say it has been around since the 70s (considering how old everything looks, you don’t doubt it). It is like the city’s Disneyland, just dirtier. And smaller. And uglier. And unsafer. But it’s just like the city’s Disneyland. I mean, there’s even a mascot: the brown bear named Sunny who seemed to be fairly popular among children.

"How do these kids seem to like Sunny so much? He’s creepy,” you think out loud chewing the jelly Jisung just gave you.

“He’s like our Mickey Mouse,” Jisung turns his head to look at the bear as well.

“But Mickey is not that creepy.”

“Have you seen him in the 50’s? Girl…”

"Who are you talking about?" Yuta, one of the managers, creeps behind you and your friend.

"Hyung, that’s not cool!” Jisung jumps as he gets startled by Yuta’s sudden presence and you can’t help smiling at how much of a scaredy-cat he is.

“Mickey Mouse” you say, stealing another Jelly from Jisung. “Who do you think is creepier, Mickey or Sunny?”

In the beginning you were still very reluctant to accept that it was a good idea to take up Renjun’s offer (and your only choice). But the thing is that you need the money and the job is so much easier than working at the café, considering the Funfair is slow basically every single day. So, you adapted to the Funfair in no time and, slowly, started to see how fun it can be to work in a place like that. You have to admit that the job in itself is usually boring, but the people here are the highlight of it all.

“Sunny’s not that creepy,” Jisung says, making you scoff.

“No, it’s just an old ass costume of an ugly bear wearing a blue overall. Why do kids like it?” You say looking at the semicircle of children cornering the bear near the merry-go-round.

“Who’s Mickey Mouse, though?” Yuta asks you and Jisung.

“Are you kidding me? The Disney rat, hyung,” Jisung looks mildly offended at Yuta’s question.

“He’s not a rat, he’s a mouse. It’s literally his name,” you say, faking interest just to steal one more jelly from Jisung’s bag of candy.

“Never heard of this Mickey guy,” Yuta says with a poker face and you snicker.

"You don't know… Mickey Mouse?" You think Jisung’s face is priceless. Oh, the ever so sweet and gullible Park Jisung.

"Where is he from?'' he asks again, leaving Jisung even more confused.

“Hm… Hollywood? I don’t know where he’s from,” Jisung fishes for his phone and you are sure he is about to google ‘where is mickey mouse from’.

“Oh, I’m from Osaka. That’s probably why we never met.” Yuta finishes talking and walks away, leaving a bewildered Jisung behind.

“I don’t know what to do with this information,” you start feeling bad for him, the boy just looks utterly confused. “He’s joking right? They do have Mickey Mouse in Japan, right?”

“Yes, Jisung he is joking,” you pat his shoulder, but he seems hesitant. “He’s messing with you because you're literally the only one that still believes in any absurdity that comes out of Yuta’s mouth.”

“It makes me kinda relieved, I'm not gonna lie,” he sighs and you just chuckle. Why are your coworkers so dramatic? “I mean, it’s Mickey Mouse. Everybody likes Mickey Mouse."

“I don’t know about that…” your eyes go back to the weird bear as he starts moving around, now having Taeyong as a bodyguard to protect him from the kids jumping at him. "Wait, I think this is the first time I see someone actually dressing up as Sunny. Is it a new thing now?”

"I don't know, it's my first time seeing it too," Jisung frowns "Should I ask Mina?" you shrug. It didn't really matter, it's just that, working in such an uneventful workplace, anything could be something.

"I think you should start running if you don't want Doyoung beating your ass up," you say leaning on the railing of the bumper cars.

Jisung turns to look at his back and sees an angry Doyoung coming for him. "Shit."

"PARK JISUNG, DON'T EVEN TRY TO RUN."

"Serves you right for purposely shutting down the merry-go-round."

"If you had to stay there, you would understand the stress I go through," he says, handing you his bag of candy and running away from Doyoung.

So much for an uneventful workplace.

After you started working at the theme park, you had less time for parties and pubs and even dates. It was hard to fit in any social interaction in your now tight schedule: your shifts were usually 4 to 10 p.m on weekdays and 6 to 12 a.m on weekends. You never had time to go out to drink with your friends, unless they agreed to go clubbing on Monday. Damn, you didn’t want to go to a club on Monday, you had morning classes.

Juggling your job, your degree and your social life was not easy, and you started realizing that you couldn’t catch up with some of your friends and, eventually, they just stopped inviting you to hang out. Inevitably, you have to start hanging out with your coworkers and that leads you to Jisung’s dorm, a round of cheap beer, spicy snacks and a game of truth or dare in the crack of dawn on a Saturday. You, Jisung, Chenle, Yeri and Mina were all sitting in a circle looking at the bottle that was about to stop.

Bottom asks, top answers.

“Truth or dare, Mina?” Chenle asks mischievously and she whines.

“I don’t want Chenle!!! Please, someone else ask me”

“He got the bottom of the bottle, though,” Jisung smiles apologetically.

“Okay, truth.”

“Is it true that in middle school you had a crush on Jis-”

“DARE!!!! I WANT DARE!” she stands up on her knees, profusely shaking her arms so Chenle would stop talking.

Funfair might not be too amusing for the customers, but the whole workplace drama is absolutely entertaining to you. Yeri’s family owns the property where the theme park is located, so she (forcefully) works there to help her cousin Taeyong run the place (though she rarely does any actual work). There is an ongoing rumor that, since last year, she was in a love triangle with Taeyong’s accountant, Suh Johnny, and a mysterious guy named Lee. No one knows exactly who the Lee guy is and what happened between them. Chenle says he’s not brave enough to ask, but he thinks “Lee” is the last name of the guy, which also makes it weird because it could be another one of Taeyong’s relatives.

Taeyong is the sweet boss in charge of all of us, including the managers Yuta and Doyoung, although there has always been a suspicion that the latter is his (boy)friend.

Chenle, Jisung and Mina are freshmen that have been friends since elementary school and decided to work together at Funfair because it was their go-to spot to skip classes ever since they were little. You’re sure they chose the park, though, because they wouldn't be allowed to work together in any other environment, they are all just a bunch of kids. Chenle is that outgoing and kind person yet a menace, especially when it comes to Mina, Jisung and their painfully obvious crush on each other.

After some hair pulling (Mina got really angry after Chenle tried to make her confess to Jisung) and the last rounds of truth or dare, everyone starts to get sleepy.

“Alright, guys, I think it’s time to go home…” you stand up, but Mina holds your arm to stop you.

“Wait, before we all go, did you guys know about the new part-timer that got hired?” Chenle perks up and Jisung lifts his body from where is laying on the ground to look at Mina.

“What guy?”

“Another part-timer? I thought Taeyong was on a budget considering how slow the business has been since… forever,” you say truthfully and Chenle’s eyes widen .

“Do you think the Funfair is some sort of money laundering scheme?”

“I don’t think Taeyong would be driving that old ass car if he had a choice,” Jisung says, and you gasp.

“That’s mean, he’s always giving you rides!”

“What are you guys talking about?” Yeri asks, coming back from the bathroom “New part-timer? Oh, you’re talking about Donghyuck.”

You frown, feeling that you know that name, and yet can’t give a face to that name. Do you know anyone named Donghyuck?

“Do you know him?!” Mina exclaims a little too excited for Jisung’s liking, who scoffs.

“Yeah, I asked Taeyong if we could hire him,” she says sheepishly and you and Chenle exchange confused looks “What about him, though?”

“I was just curious,” Mina answers. “I saw this cute boy two days ago near the breakroom and he said ‘hi, I’m the new guy Donghyuck’ and then, never again.”

“Why are you so curious? Do you wanna see him that bad?” Jisung asks, clearly bothered and the three of you roll your eyes at the sight of a blushing Mina.

“It’s not like that…” she scratches her head “It’s just that I never saw him again. Where is he even working?”

“I think Taeyong put him in the ticket booth or something,” Yeri brushes the girl’s concern off and just grabs her bag.

“No way, I was in the popcorn stall near the entrance today and I haven’t seen him at all,” Mina affirms with wide eyes.

Yeri, tired of all of you and the workplace gossip, just brushes it off by shrugging and wishing everybody a goodnight before leaving Jisung’s dorm.

"What do you guys think of Sunny?" you suddenly ask and your friends make a confused face. "Sunny, the bear, guys."

"Creepy" Chenle says without second thoughts

"Not you again with the mascot rivalry. Be proud of our Mickey," Jisung points at you, making you roll your eyes.

"It's weird looking, but it's a very fun mascot," Mina says, drinking the remaining soju in Jisung's bottle.

"Not like that, guys." You apologize, starting to feel drowsy. "I should've worded it better."

"Are you already drunk?" Chenle scoffs and Mina motions to kick his legs.

"I meant,” you say louder, glaring at Chenle. “What if the new guy is Sunny?"

"It's plausible considering Mina hasn’t seen him again. Or any of us, really."

"Bear or not, I think he's Yeri's boyfriend." Jisung says as a matter of factly.

"His name is not Lee, though." Mina points out. "Plus, I'm team Johnny."

"You're all so nosy," you make a judging face at them, but giggle right after "I like it."

The four of you there stay there in Jisung's dorm for a couple more hours, conspiring about who was the new part-timer, what he was doing there and creating what had the potential to be the new hot gossip of Sunny's Funfair.

"I can't believe you're here again," you roll your eyes when you see Jisung standing next to the control panel for the bumper cars.

"Change places with me one day, that's all I ask!" he pleads and you turn away to pay attention to the cars that had just started to move around.

"Go to work, Jisung. I don't know why Taeyong hasn't fired you yet."

"Because he knows I'm a valuable addition to the team.” He fights back, making you scoff.

"Nah, it's probably because he has noticed that the high school girls keep coming back to flirt with you." You glare at him when you see him blushing. “Stop with this act, we all know you love it because it makes Mina jealous.”

“What’s with you today, woman?” he raises his hand defensively “I’m just keeping you company.”

“You should be at the merry-go-around. Working.”

“That’s why I always go to Mina,” he complains. “She always talks to me.”

“It’s because she doesn’t like working either,” you say harshly.

It’s Sunday and the park is fairly busier than usual, you think. Not enough to make children line up on the bumper cars, but busy enough to keep running it every three minutes. Suddenly, a stereotypical carnival music starts playing, startling both you and Jisung, who never really noticed there were speakers spread throughout the park. Then, you see Sunny happily walking around greeting small children and their parents.

“What the fuck is this?” you spit out and look at Jisung who has the same dumbfounded expression as you.

“Our Mickey Mouse is here,” Jisung laughs and you keep staring at the scene in front of you.

“I swear to god if they put this song in a loop I’ll k-”

“Where’s Mickey?” a little girl wearing a Disney t-shirt smiles at the both of you. “I like Mickey Mouse!"

“If you like Mickey so much, where is he from?” Jisung asks and you roll your eyes, going back to the control panel to see how much longer until this round is up.

“Well, I don’t know…” her smile falters and Jisung holds a finger up in the air while saying.

“Well, you can only ride the bumper cars if you know where Mickey Mouse is from-”

“But… I…” you see the girl’s eyes watering and you punch Jisung’s arm

“No, you don’t,” you say, giving him the stink eye. “But you do need to be old enough to ride it by yourself. How old are you?

“I just turned eight,” she smiles confidently with both hands on her hips.

“Sorry, sweetie, if you are under 12 you need adult supervision,” she deflates so fast that you almost feel bad for her.

“Can’t he go with me?” she points at Jisung and you scoff.

“He can barely supervise himself,” you smile at her. “Plus, there is no one else to ride the bumper cars, you would be all alone.”

The little girl tries to persuade you to let her go but you can’t. You could bend the rules a little and supervise her in the car, letting Jisung in the control panel, but you didn’t trust Jisung that much. Plus it wasn’t worth it getting in trouble because of a cute little girl. Eventually, you convince her to go talk to the creepy bear, saying he was friends with Mickey Mouse, and she runs to where he is standing.

“By the way, Mickey Mouse is from Mouseton in Calisota,” Jisung says looking at his phone and you groan.

After months working in the same place, with the same people, you are bound to get into a routine. Yours consisted of arriving at the Funfair around 3:50 pm, going to the break room, filling your water bottle, putting your backpack in locker 606 and putting your lunch box with some packed dinner in the fridge.

Any minor change in this calculated routine could mean something big.

That’s why you are surprised to arrive one day and see a black insulated lunch bag inside the fridge. You were used to see Mina’s green tupperware, Chenle’s half-eaten subway and Yuta’s energy drinks inside the fridge. You were not used to see an insulated lunch bag inside the fridge. You brushed it off as someone changing habits and bringing healthier food to work. It could even be Taeyong packing food for him and Doyoung.

You should have taken that more seriously, though, because the second change in your routine was much bigger and much more inconvenient than the lunch bag.

The next day, the lunch bag disappeared, but now, there was a backpack in your locker. It wasn’t that the locker is specifically yours per se, but there is a silent agreement of which locker belongs to whom. There are 9 lockers in total, Jisung and Mina’s are 607 and 604, the top left one and the one right under it. Chenle takes 608 and Yeri takes the one next to yours, 605. The only available lockers, then, are the 609, top one on the right, and the 3 lockers at the bottom, that are rarely used. 606 is an unavailable locker and yet, one day you get there, slightly late, and you see it occupied by a backpack that’s not yours — and locked.

Differently from the lunch box, the locker issue does not go away. In fact, no matter how early you get there, every other day there is a black backpack locked inside the 606. You aren't tall enough to reach 609, forcing you to use one of the lockers at the bottom. Everytime you try to crouch down to get something from your bag, you curse at the person who’s using your locker.

The last change to the quiet routine you led at Funfair was Sunny, the bear. In three months working there, last week was the first time you started to actually see it walking around. Of course, during your training, Taeyong made sure to give you a very detailed explanation of the origins of Sunny and even let you see the bear costume. Seeing someone wearing it, though, was something completely different. Considering the near-bankrupt financial situation Funfair has been suffering for a while, it is normal that the park is understaffed (and not a real problem because there aren’t many customers, anyways). But, with some many improvements to be done, why did Taeyong decide to hire someone to give life to that creepy looking bear? No one besides Taeyong seemed to care about Sunny’s presence, why is it around now?

You are too focused on your own thoughts to pay attention to Mina and Jisung entering the breakroom. They seem excited about something and trying to speak at the same time.

“Shut up, Jisung, I will tell everybody!” she squeals and Jisung mumbles something along the line ‘I barely breathed’. “Where’s Chenle? I have bombastic news.”

“He texted the group chat saying he will be late,” you answer unamused.

“Girl, cheer up, I have hot gossip.” You hum, more interested in your sandwich than the gossip.

“We saw the new guy enter Yeri’s car yesterday after work.” Jisung blurts out and Mina slaps his shoulder. “What? Someone can appear in the breakroom any minute.”

“We already know she knows him. Taeyong hired him because of her, remember?” You bite your sandwich and see Jisung deflates, agreeing that it wasn’t the big deal he was thinking.

“Well, she didn’t say that his last name was Lee,” she whispers the last word, making you and Jisung snap your heads to her direction.

“You didn’t tell me-”

“Doyoung told Yuta who told me that the name of the guy is Lee Donghyuck and he works part-time here every other day. That’s why we don’t see him that much.”she says, pulling a chair for Jisung to sit on.

“Do you think he is the Lee in the love triangle?” Jisung whispers, fishing for his phone. “Oh, Chenle’s gonna love this.”

“Have you guys seen this Donghyuck in the breakroom, yet?” you ask, looking at the lockers. “Or coming to work, at least?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think he is the one using my locker?” They look at you confused. “I usually see it locked with a black backpack inside.”

“Well, he works every other day,” Mina starts “I don’t think it’s him, you’re here everyday.”

“Who would do that, though? The managers use Taeyong’s office. I’m sure it’s him. I don’t like him.”

“You don’t even know him,” Jisung reasons, making you glare at him.

“He stole my locker!” you fight back making them shake their heads at you.

Two whole weeks have passed and everybody but you have met the locker thief. It's not that you are obsessed with knowing who the hell this Lee Donghyuck is, especially not after Mina tells you in secret that he is very funny and very hot (and begged you not to tell Jisung that). You are curious to meet the one who is behind the creepy bear that makes children laugh and forces all of you to listen to circus music (Taeyong said it is a new tactic so people can associate the song to Sunny and they will know when he is around. You don’t care, you just hate both the bear and the song).

It is on a Friday evening that you understand why people say “curiosity killed the cat”. You are sent to help Mina in the food stalls because Jisung, being the annoying brat he is, ended up breaking the merry-go-round thanks to his habit of shutting it off to avoid the children. When one of the rides breaks down, it means sending someone to help with the food stalls, but Taeyong knew that between sending Jisung or a lamppost to work with Mina, the lamppost would be more useful. That’s why Jisung is at the bumper cars right now and you are stuck in the food stall, with your hair and clothes smelling like butter and old popcorn.

"Hey, what's broken today?" she asks, leaning her arms on the counter and bending her body forward.

"The merry-go-round," you roll your eyes. "I bet it's Jisung’s fault for shutting it down on purpose at least three times per shift to avoid the little children."

“I thought they would send you to the haunted house to give Doyoung a break, though.” She hands you wet wipes so you can help her clean the counter.

“Nah, Doyoung has too much fun scaring away the horny teenangers trying to have sex and use drugs in there.”

"Aw, at least you're here with me today!" she smiles and you give her an unamused smile. "I'll be nice, I know you hate the smell, so I’ll stay here and you can do the stocking tonight!"

Your problem is being a little naive around your friends. Sure, the popcorn smell was bad, but you didn't know that stocking the stalls would mean walking around, back and forth, carrying paper bags, corn bags, cans of soda and even organizing the pantry's shelves. You also didn’t know the stockroom is basically all the way across the park.

"Who knew we sold that much soda here." You murmur after your 5th trip to the pantry to restock soda.

"It's not that we sell a lot, it's just that this mini fridge is too small."

"Yeah, I noticed," you narrow your eyes at your friend who just laughs and talks to a new customer.

After a couple of hours, things start to get slower at the stall, so you have time to organize and store everything in their right place. You were definitely not used to this kind of job, just staying behind the scenes, not dealing with annoying adults and small children, but you seem to enjoy it. You pull out your phone and plug your earphones to listen to some music to pass time. The stockroom was a container that stayed behind the ferris wheel and the walls of the park didn’t allow people to see it.

The songs coming from your headphones distract you so much that you don't notice someone hiding behind the open door of the container. They opened from outside, so they blocked the view of who was behind it, but the lights from the ferris wheel allowed you to see a weirdly shaped shadow. You get closer and jump at the sight of the Sunny, the bear too close to your face.

"What the fuck?" you hear him say and you get so startled that you end up pushing it, almost making it fall on the ground.

"I should be the one saying that, dude," you answer, holding the stack of popcorn bags close to you. "What are you doing here?”

"Hiding," you can faintly hear the person's voice through the gigantic head of the costume.

"What?"

"I'm hiding from the kids," the bear points to your left, the direction of the park. "There is a little kid today that is just obsessed with kicking my ankle."

You laugh at that and go back inside the stockroom to put the popcorn bags in their place. The bear stays outside and you wonder if this is your chance of finally seeing the mysterious not-so-new guy that has been the hot topic for a while.

"Hey," you lean on the door's frame, calling the bear's attention to you "How long have you been working here?"

"Since the 90's, or something like the story Taeyong told me." you laugh at that, hearing the bear chuckle as well. "I started some weeks ago. Why?"

"I was just wondering, because I’m seeing Sunny around too often," you shrug. "You’re the new guy Donghyuck, right?"

"You have a lot of questions, I see," you hear the teasing tone and just roll your eyes. “Flirty, much? Can’t resist the bear’s charm?”

"I hope you can't see shit with this big ass head in this terrible lighting, and end up falling."

"HEY! I was just kidding, don't be mean," he moves a little bit closer to you.

“You are very good at being vague and changing the topic, mister Sunny, the bear.”

“What can I say, I like being mysterious,” with the silence between both of you, you can hear Taeyong cursing, which is very unusual of him. "Shit, I think I hear Taeyong."

"Are you afraid of getting fired?"

"No, I'm afraid he's gonna make me work," he answers and you can't help but laugh, calling Taeyong's attention to you and the bear.

Ever since that shift, you started getting somewhat closer to Sunny, who you are sure is the Lee Donghyuck, even though he didn’t confirm it. You still haven't got the chance to see him without the costume and your interactions are always short, but there is something so familiar about him…

It is also very fun to see Sunny interacting with the staff. Sometimes, he walks past the food stall and shakes Mina's hand, or hi-five Chenle when he passes by the spinning cups. But your favorite thing is when he stays next to the merry-go-around, right across the bumper cars, and throws flying kisses in your direction. It feels like Donghyuck is showing a little bit of his personality through Sunny and you have to admit that the guy is pretty nice to be around. And just like that, what was once a very creepy looking bear that you avoided at all costs, becomes a very creepy looking bear that you expect to see during your shifts.

Today, Donghyuck decided to walk past the bumper cars and make a “call me” sign, right after sending you hearts and dancing with little kids. You try not to pay much attention to him, but it’s cute how he never forgets to interact with everybody around him and doesn’t leave until he makes his coworkers smile at least for a few seconds.

There is a particular child giving him a hard time, though. You see the little boy, probably ten, trying to take the bear's head at all costs. It tried climbing on Donghyuck, pulled his arms and even kicked his ankle once. There was usually someone to keep him company to avoid annoying kids like those. Where is Taeyong?

"Hey," you see a girl getting out of the bumper cars all by herself. "You, pigtail." The girl seems tall and strong enough to win a fight, you think . "I'll give you five bucks if you push that boy over there."

"Make it ten and I'll pull his hair too," she opens her hands, motioning you to give her money.

Eventually, Taeyong ends up putting you in trash duty for three days after finding out that you "incited" a fight in a family friendly environment, even though you will deny it forever. You don't mind it too much, because it allows you to walk around the park and talk to everybody, and whenever Sunny is around, you can get a little bit closer while he sends you flying kisses.

You don't know why, but having that huge weird-looking bear around has definitely made working here better.

"Well, I have some news," Taeyong says, calling everyone's attention. "We will be shutting down the haunted house, the merry-go-round and the spinning cup."

You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Although you were all expecting that summer break would be a game changer for the business, only a miracle could save the Funfair. To be fair, Taeyong had managed to improve a couple of things here and there: he repainted the front of the park, fixed the broken trash cans and even hired Renjun to make a nice mural at the front (which was really nice for marketing, because teenagers love to take pictures there). There was a general feeling that the business was changing and the summer was a breath of fresh air to everybody, but the summer break wasn’t as miraculous as your hopeful and young minds thought.

"Why the spinning cups? They were fine though," Chenle pouts and Taeyong just shakes his head.

"I know you like it there, Lele, but a third of the cups aren't spinning properly and there are just so many vomits I can clean up in a day," he sighs and you feel the tense atmosphere in the air.

“We should have shut down the haunted house a long time ago, in my opinion,” Yeri says, eating a lollipop. “I don’t know how Doyoung endured horny teenangers trying to have sex in there for so long.”

“It was nice staying inside to scare them away,” he shrugged.

“I bet the merry-go-round is Jisung’s fault though,” you say, provoking Jisung, who sticks his tongue out.

“Actually, the engine is heating up so, if anything, Jisung shutting it off every now and then actually helped.” Yuta says besides Taeyong, leaning on the lockers.

“Okay, let’s stop,” he says, visibly stressed. “This is a report, it’s not open for comments, everyone.”

“But, I have ques-”

“Shut up.”

"I know you are all wondering what's going to happen, but don't worry, we got this!” Taeyong starts speaking again, expecting us to be silent. “I have reorganized everybody’s positions: Jisung will take the bumper cars. Y/N and Chenle can decide who will take the ferris wheel and the roller coaster, I just can’t have Jisung on neither because I don’t trust him with the safety procedures. No offense, Jisung."

“None taken, hyung,” he says, eating a lollipop.

“We don’t have experience in those rides, it was usually the more experienced staff who took care of it,” you raise your hand, worried.

“It’s okay, we’ll train you.”

“What about Doyoung hyung and Yuta hyung?” Chenle asks worriedly.

“Kids, don’t worry about anything else, alright?” Taeyong smiles reassuringly, ending the meeting and sending everybody home.

A week after the sudden change of positions, everything was running smoothly. Doyoung and Yuta helped you and Chenle and for the first three days, teaching you how to control the rides and slowly letting you do it by yourselves. Despite everything looking almost the same as usual, you couldn’t shake the weird feeling out of your chest. Why did Taeyong suddenly shut down part of the park? It’s not as if there is much of it left anyways. He didn't say much about Yuta and Doyoung after they stopped training us. Did they get fired? You haven’t seen Sunny in a while. Did Taeyong fire Donghyuck too? Will you be next?

The prospect of getting fired makes you realize you haven't really worried about looking for a good internship in a while. You can’t really blame yourself for getting tired of it after the countless no’s. And, honestly, you were comfortable working for Taeyong. Sure, the pay wasn’t great, but the job isn’t demanding and your boss is not pressuring you to do anything more than come to work, press a few buttons, make sure no one gets into an accident, and go home. But your parents had already started to worry about your career, thinking your job at the theme park wasn’t as temporary as they thought it would be. You think it’s time for you to start worrying about it too, so you decide that as soon as the summer break is over, you must find somewhere else to work.

Even though you know you need to find another job, a tiny little part of your heart hurts at the thought of leaving everyone behind. Would you be able to find such nice and welcoming people anywhere else? You realize your mind has wandered for too long when you see brown paws shaking in front of your face.

"A penny for your thoughts?" you hear Donghyuck’s voice and smile.

"Sunny does not use human language to communicate. Taeyong will get angry at you," you cross your arms and lean on the railing behind you.

"It's not like there's a lot of people around anyways. The only kid is you" he stands next to you, just looking at the empty park. You slap his arm and he chuckles. "It's almost closing time, I don't know why I'm still wearing this."

"You get more breaks than we do, work for once, please," you joke and hear his sweet laugh muffled by the costume.

"Try walking around with this gigantic stinky head to see if you wouldn't need a break every 30 minutes too." You smile and make your way to the control cabin when you take a look at the time.

“Time to turn off the lights and go home,” you say, pressing a few buttons on the panel.

“I didn’t know they changed your position,” you hear the boy speaking loudly so you can hear him from the cabin. "I found out the hard way.”

“And what is the hard way?” you scream back, starting to get out of the cabin and heading to the stairs.

“I can’t really see from afar with this mask on, you know…” He sighs and you frown at him. “Yeri told me today I had spent the past week sending flying kisses to Jisung and not you.”

You cackle with laughter from the sudden confession. Now it makes sense why you have spent the entire week without seeing a sign of him. You just thought Sunny was one of the things Taeyong was slowly getting rid of.

"You must be completely blind with this head on," you say, walking down the steps and being face to face with the bear. "Can you even see anything now with the lights off?"

"I can figure it out."

You extend your arm, offering it. "C'mon, I'll lead the way."

“The ferris wheel is very far from the breakroom, you know. That’s why I never come here,” he says, locking arms with you.

“Yeah, I know. On the weekend I always have to run if I don’t wanna miss the last bus.”

“Will I have to keep walking all the way down the ferris wheel to see you?”

“Yes,” you laugh wholeheartedly as he groans. You start walking, your arms linked together, and your curiosity perks up. "I have a question," you hear some humming and decide to keep going. "Why have I never seen you, Donghyuck?"

"It’s because I’m not Donghyuck, I’m Sunny, silly!” you scoff and listen to his cheeky laugh.

"You are a little frustrating, you know that? I like it better when you can't speak." you huff, but keep walking towards the exit of the park. "Should I wait for you outside the bathroom to know who you are?"

"Don't be a creep,” he teases, and you slap his arm covered by the costume.

"I just think it’s unfair how you know who I am and I only know your name because Mina loves gossiping around,” you pout and feel a pet in your head.

"You really have no idea who I am?” he scoffs, sounding disappointed and you get confused. “Yeah, didn’t think you would remember me.”

“What are you talking about?” you frown and he just shrugs it off. “Am I supposed to know you?”

“I don’t know, are you?”

“Stop it!” you say, slightly frustrated.

“Okay, okay," you hear him chuckling. "I think our schedules are just incompatible.”

“I think you are just ugly and are embarrassed,” you tease and you hear him gasp.

“Holy shit, you’re mean,” he pretends to be offended as you laugh. “But, wait, have you been thinking about me and what I look like?”

You can’t see his face, but the smugness you hear in his voice is enough to annoy you (and make you blush, because… yes, you have.)

“If you don’t stop with the nonsense I’ll leave you to walk alone in the dark,” you warn him, passing by the merry-go-round, reaching the middle of the park.

“I think you are the one who doesn’t want to be alone, honey,” he teases you again, and you motion to unlink your arms but he immediately apologizes. “No, no, sorry, sorry. I’ll shut up.”

You keep walking in a comfortable silence until you decide to speak again “Do you think we’re getting fired?”

“Why do you think that?”

“It’s just…” you sigh and Donghyuck starts to slow down your pace. “I mean, we know this business is not flourishing, but I can’t lie, I thought summer break would help. Now with Taeyong shutting down part of the park, summer break is almost over, I don’t know…”

“I think you shouldn’t worry too much about that,” he says sincerely and you scoff.

“Yeah, sure,” you keep silent for a little while, but Donghyuck feels you still have some things to get off your chest. “If I get fired before getting an internship I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve already disappointed my parents so many times, and I’m so frustrated with myself. I.. Should I even keep trying to become a journalist? I think I should just ask Renjun to set me up with some rich dude. I don’t think he would, though, He was the one that found me this job when his parents are filthy rich and know basically every businessman in the city.”

“Renjun’s parents are not that rich, they just know a lot of people,” he adds, making you sigh again.

“I wish I knew a lot of people. Actually, I wish I knew the right people. I wouldn’t be here struggling to find an internship if I did.”

“Well, I think you shouldn’t worry too much about this.”

“Yeah, easier said than done. I have been trying to get an internship for, what, six months? I must be really bad because I didn’t even get a single interview.”

“I think you shouldn’t worry too much because what is supposed to happen, will happen.” He turns his head to you and tilts it to the right. “Maybe, you won’t find the perfect job you’re looking for right now, but there will be some other opportunities that might help you achieve your goal. Have you ever watched Monsters University?”

“Oh, you are not about to give me advice based on a Pixar movie,” you chuckle and Donghyuck gets defensive.

“Well, if you haven’t seen it yet, you should, because you’re being very Mike Wazowski right now,” you laugh at his comparison, promising him you would see the movie as soon as you got home.

Even after the heartfelt conversation, you haven’t met Donghyuck as himself yet. You don’t know if your schedules really didn’t align or if he was actively avoiding you after you just spilled your worries out of nowhere. You don’t think it was a reasonable option considering he would still go out of his way to greet you at the ferris wheel, even if it meant cutting his break 5 minutes because it took him longer to get to the breakroom.

But you can’t help but feel weird when you hear Yeri and Mina casually talking about Donghyuck's opinion on the drama they are watching together. How did they even get that close? I mean, there was still the theory that he was Yeri’s boyfriend so you guess that made sense, but why wouldn’t he talk to you about the drama too? You could start watching it. Even Chenle seemed to socialize more with Donghyuck outside work than you, as he constantly mentions how they meet up sometime to go to a cybercafe to play games. Why are you the only one that has short interactions with him dressed up as the fucking creepy bear? Plus, there is the constant feeling of familiarity when you’re around him, but you can’t remember from where you might know each other. It was all driving you really, really mad.

“Why are you frowning?” Doyoung asks as you’re sitting down in Taeyong's office, waiting for him.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Your face looks like a raisin.”

“Don’t call me raisin!” You raise your voice, getting angrier by the minute. “Do you know Donghyuck?”

Doyoung seems startled by your sudden change of subject. “Of course I do, he works here.”

“Have you met him outside work? Like, in normal clothes, not in a bear costume.”

“Obviously, he’s Jeno’s childhood friend,” he says matter-of-factly. Jeno? You know that name… “Why are you being so-”

“Wait, Jeno? Lee Jeno? As in Huang Renjun’s friend?”

“I don’t know any Huang Renjun, but, yeah, Lee Jeno, he’s like a brother-”

“HOLY SHIT,” you gasp and cover your mouth. “Shit, what the fuck, this is not real.”

“I know you’re off the clock, but it’s sorta rude to curse like that.”

“Doyoung, I know Donghyuck,” you ignore him, standing up and holding his arms with pleading eyes. “I know who Donghyuck is.

“Considering you have been working together for a month or so, that’s… great?” He says cautiously.

“Tell Taeyong I’ll talk to him tomorrow, I have to make a phone call,” You say, grabbing your backpack and bolting out of the room.

As soon as Doyoung mentioned Jeno, everything clicked together.

You remembered the night at the party, when you met that cute guy and you just decided to kiss all night long, chat about the most random things while you get drunk on the expensive Japanese beer he said he bought, but you find out later that it was Jeno’s. You remember talking about your favorite seasons and him telling you you might be meant to be because you love summer and his gaming nickname meant fullsun. You should have recognized him as soon as you heard him tease you for the first time. Damn, he even mentioned Renjun’s parents as if he knew them personally and you didn’t bat an eye. How could you be so stupid?

The first problem is not recognizing him. The second problem is how are you going to face him after taking so long to recognize him. Now you understand why he probably didn’t want you to see him without the costume, imagine how embarrassing it will be for you.

Donghyuck never works two days in a row, so hopefully he won’t be here today, right? Wait, was he here yesterday? You don’t remember. If you don’t remember, he probably wasn’t, so, does that mean you will have to see him today? But maybe it’s just your bad memory. You needed advice about this situation, what would you do from now? You are sprinting to the breakroom, ready to put your things away and call your roommate.

When you get there, you immediately couch down to put your things on the locker, not bothering to look if the 606 locker is available. It hasn’t been ever since Donghyuck started here anyways. As you are having trouble shoving the backpack inside the small locker, you see someone standing behind you, silently opening one of the lockers too.

“Your phone’s on the floor.”

He points out to the bright screen of your phone that has fallen from your hands and is sitting right beside you. You take a glance at the lock screen, seeing Doyoung’s threatening message, and scoff.

[doyoung manager (dangerous)]: If you canceled this meeting to gossip with the other kids, I’ll make Taeyong put you in trash duty for a whole month.

“Honestly, I’m here having a crisis and Doyoung thinks I’m gossiping,” you grumble while still trying to shove the backpack inside “What’s wrong with this locker tod-”

“Do you need help?”

You feel like someone has knocked the air out of your lungs when you see Donghyuck crouched down beside you, wearing a cheeky smile. You fall on your butt and he immediately holds your arms to help you stand back to your original position.

“Do you need help?” he repeats, his head motioning to the lockers and you simply nod. “It can be tricky to fit the whole bag inside these lockers.”

You just nod again, and stand up, letting him put it inside the tiny metal box and close it. “Password?” you look at him confused. “Are you not locking it?”

“No, we never lock it,” you shake your head and gasp. You move a little to the side to see the 606 locker taken, and look back at him angrily. “So it was you this whole time. You stole my locker!”

“I didn’t steal anything, it was there and I took it.”

“It was my perfect little locker, perfect height., perfect size,” you mourn half-jokingly.

“Why don’t you take the other ones?”

He stands up, meeting you face to face and you have to admit that it is a whole new thing to see him in good lighting without his bear costume. He is hotter than you remembered. His hair is also longer and wavy, different from when you first met. Damn you and your thing for boys with long hair.

“They're all taken and I can’t reach the one above yours,” you shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t know you had work today, Haechan.” You use the nickname he told you back at the party and that makes him smile.

“Oh, so now you remember me?” The smugness of his voice makes you shy and he notices it by the way you smile and starts to move away from him.

“Yeah, about that, I should apologize,” you say, sitting down in one of the chairs. “I should have connected the dots as soon as you told me about Renjun’s parents.”

“Oh,” the smug expression on his face dies as he lets out what seemed to be a disappointed sigh.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes. “Am I being stupid again?”

“Oh, no,” he chuckles humorlessly as he leans on the lockers and puts his hands inside the pockets of the leather jacket. Be damned the leather jackets, you think. “I thought you were going to apologize for not calling.”

“What?” you let out an airy laugh.

“That night at the party, you said you would call me.”

“I don’t have your number though, how would I call you?” You remember the kissing, and his hands, and his hoarse voice whispering sweet nothings in your ears, but you definitely don’t remember having his number.

Donghyuck takes his hand out of his pocket and stretches it out in front of you, asking for your phone. You give it to him, open it on the keypad, and he gives a few taps before handing it back to you. He didn’t even need to finish typing the whole thing because it was there, on the top of the screen: “Lee Donghyuck” written in bold, with his number right beside it.

You start to think you don’t remember as much from that night as you thought you did. You grunt and he just chuckles.

“At least now I know I wasn’t rejected, you just forgot” he jokes and sits in front of you, who was hiding your face in your hands. “I just don’t know if that’s better or not.”

“I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t that drunk to forget your name and your number.”

“You forgot my name too?” he says half-offended, now understanding why you didn’t recognize him before. “Damn, were you that cock drunk?”

“Now, don’t cross a line, Lee Donghyuck,” you immediately sit up straight, sending him a glare. “We didn’t go that far.”

“Sorry, bad joke,” He lowers his head, avoiding your eyes, “We could’ve.”

“We could have what?”

“If you had called,” he says, leaning his body on the table as he doesn't break eye contact. “We could’ve gone as far as you wanted.”

“WHAT’S UP!” Chenle says loudly as he opens the door abruptly. “What are you guys talking about?”

You use that as your cue to compose yourself from Donghyuck’s very suggestive words, and point at your own ears, giving Chenle a sign that he needs to lower the volume of his earpods.

“Oh, sorry, was I screaming?” he puts his stuff in his locker and sits between you and Donghyuck, painfully unaware of the tension in the air. “What were you guys- Oh, Y/N, you finally met him!”

Donghyuck snaps his head in Chenle’s direction and you start praying he will not say anything that could embarrass you. “You were so jealous that you were the only one that hadn't met him properly yet.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you say distressed, stressing your distaste for his choice of words. “It was just weird how-”

“Oh, you so were,” both boys giggled and you rolled your eyes, standing up hastily, making the chair screech. “Please, you got all pouty the day I mentioned we play together.”

“Honey, if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” Donghyuck is clearly having the time of his life with Chenle’s information.

You groan as you leave the breakroom and they keep teasing you. You definitely need better friends.

"Who would have thought that all you had to do to start dating was confessing, right?” Chenle says sarcastically while all of you are hanging out in the breakroom.

“Wait, so you weren’t dating before?” Taeyong asks the couple sitting in front of him.

“No, they were just very much in love and just as oblivious,” you say, munching on the chocolate chip cookie Taeyong baked for the staff today.

"Well, it’s not like that, I was already planning on confessing…" Jisung scratches the back of his head and Chenle scoffs.

"Yeah, since freshman year… of HIGH SCHOOL," and you see Mina blushing when Jisung giggles and kisses her cheek, giving her a silent confirmation that Chenle's statement was nothing but the truth.

"Oh my god, she still blushes at everything he does!" Yeri exclaims and Chenle gags, muttering 'disgusting'.

Apparently, the past weekend has been full of surprises. Taeyong had a “pressing family matter” to attend to, so he decided to close the park and give everybody the Saturday and Sunday off. Probably not the smartest move for a failing business but who are you to complain?

With two days off on the weekend, everybody had their own thing: Yeri went to the beach with her boyfriend (Mina is still Team Johnny, but Jisung and I think he is too tall compared to the silhouette photos Yeri showed us). Chenle went to a basketball game and adopted a dog, out of nowhere. He only shut up about the game to show us Daegal’s pictures which we very much appreciated. Jisung had invited Mina on a picnic date, but she accidentally heard him practicing his confession, which led them to, finally, become boyfriend and girlfriend.

You, well, you had a date with Donghyuck. It was a friendly date, he just asked you out to get some coffee. And have lunch. And you eventually ended up going with him to his friend’s photography exhibition. In your defense, he was very pleasant to be around and it’s always good to be in contact with the arts.

You woke up that Saturday ready to do something fun, but your roommate and her boyfriend already had plans, just like everybody else from work. At first you decided to stay at home and just enjoy your day alone, but then you remembered how long it had been the last time you had a free weekend. Like, the whole weekend. After the whole ordeal with Donghyuck, you became good friends so you thought it wouldn’t hurt if you messaged him to see if he wanted to do something, right? As friends, of course!.

[you - 10:30 a.m]: hey how’s your day off?

[donghyuckie - 10:30 a.m]: damn honey

[donghyuckie - 10:30 a.m]: not even a whole day

[donghyuckie - 10:30 a.m]: miss me already?

[you - 10:30 a.m]: oh fuck off

[you - 10:31 a.m]: i just wanted to know if you had plans

[you - 10:31 a.m]: because i don’t and i’m bored

[donghyuckie - 10:32 a.m]: i can be free

[donghyuckie - 10:32 a.m]: why?

[you - 10:33 a.m]: wanna get some coffee?

[you - 10:33 a.m]: u pay

[donghyuckie - 10:35 a.m]: 🙄

[donghyuckie - 10:35 a.m]: meet me at 7dream in 10 min

[you - 10:35 a.m]: i need 30 to get ready tho

[donghyuckie - 10:35 a.m]: be there in 10 or you pay

You did your best to look as presentable as possible in record time, only for Donghyuck to arrive at the café twenty minutes later, saying he didn’t think you would take him seriously and would just take your time getting ready. He did apologize for being late and after eating breakfast, he waited as you went back home to look more presentable during lunch.

You see, spending time with Donghyuck was very confusing for you because he always made flirty comments and dirt jokes around you, but never really tried to initiate anything. He was pretty hard to read, in your personal opinion, but it was so fun to have him around and he was always so thoughtful and nice, that you never let useless thoughts fill your mind. And what if you made out once in a party months ago? You didn’t remember his name, you never called and you only met again by chance. You could totally be friends, all the “tension” that you once had, if you ever had it, was water under the bridge!

At least that’s what you thought.

"Are you gaslighting me into thinking I don't like you?" Donghyuck asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I am simply stating the fact that you are most likely only having fun flirting with me," you explained, sipping your drink. "It's like a sport to some people."

It was late, really late. The workers at the diner were probably cursing both of you for getting there as it was about to close, so you just decided to keep drinking your milkshake so you both could leave as fast as possible.

"Well, not to me," he scoffed, leaning back on the couch feeling frustrated at your words.

“Earth to Y/N,” Mina shakes her hand in front of your face, taking you out of your thoughts.

“OH, sorry, what’s up?”

“What did you do on the weekend?” Yeri asks, and you suddenly feel shy when everybody’s attention is on you. “Wait, are you blushing?”

“No way!” Jisung exclaims and you start to feel your face hotter by the second.

“And just know she was so distracted…” Mina smirks and your eyes widen, shaking your head.

“Y/N’S GOT A BOYFRIEND, Y/N’S GOT A BOYFRIEND,” Chenle sing-songs like a nine year-old and the other ones join him.

“It’s not-” you try to speak but they just sing louder, making you sigh in frustration.

“Stop, children,” Taeyong calls their attention and you sigh in relief, thinking he is going to scold them. Your peace doesn’t last long, though. “We don’t know if it’s a boyfriend or a girlfriend!”

They all look at each other before Chenle starts singing again:

“Y/N WENT ON A DATE, Y/N WENT ON A DATE.”

“You are all absolutely insufferable,” you say, standing up and pretending you don’t hear how they keep teasing you about your “date”.

Donghyuck opens the break room door right when you are ready to leave. You stop yourself before your bodies collide and he simply smiles. “What’s going on?”

“Noth-”

“Y/N WENT ON A DATE, Y/N WHEN ON A DATE.” Chenle chants again and you turn your body to face him from across the room.

“Shut up, Chenle! Nobody said it’s true.” You don’t have time to lay a guilt trip on Chenle because Donghyuck beats you to it, giving the crowd exactly what they wanted.

“It’s true, though, you went on a date with me,” Donghyuck says seriously and everybody gasps. He walks towards the lockers and smiles when he sees that you took locker 606 before him today. “We spent the whole Saturday together.”

You see Jisung flabbergasted as he lets out “Oh my god, you’re dating Yeri’s boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Jisung,” Mina elbows him at the same time that Yeri, Taeyong and Donghyuck scream a “What???”

“It was a friendly date, I’M NOT DATING ANYBODY!” You scream the last part, storming off the break room and pretending you don’t hear Donghyuck quietly say ‘yet”.

“So you’re telling me you have a boyfriend and his name is Mark?” Mina confirms the information, still not sounding quite sure of it yet.

“Don’t mind her, she was team Johnny.” Chenle tells Yeri, making her look more confused.

“Team who?” Taeyong just stands there, trying to understand the whole situation. “I have so many questions…”

“And you,” Jisung says, turning to Donghyuck. “Met Y/N months ago at Yeri's boyfriend party, fell in love, but she forgot about you, so you had to get this job as Sunny, the bear to make her fall for you again and remember you?” He finishes, leaving Donghyuck absolutely stunned at the boy’s lack of ability to hold a single information in his brain.

“This is not what I said at all, you literally made up 90% of this story.”

After you stormed out, you went outside some of the opening tasks for today and you were hoping someone would come to help you out soon, but twenty minutes later, only Doyoung appeared, asking where the others were. After not having any answer from you, he calls Taeyong who just says ‘wait 10 more minutes and we’ll have so much to talk about’. He decides to go to the breakroom and see for himself what on earth is going on in the park today, only to find the boss, one of the managers and all the other workers sitting around the table, gossiping.

“She does seem a little silly, I have to admit,” Yuta says nonchalantly.

“She’s worse than Mina and Jisung together, honestly,” Chenle shakes his head, “Dumb as a door.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Doyoung says in a serious tone, startling everybody.

“I told you to wait 10 minutes, Hyuck is about to finish his story,” Taeyong shakes his head, shooing Doyoung away. “Someone needs to be in charge. Go, go, I’ll tell you later.”

“YOU are the one in charge.” Doyoung scoffs, but goes anyway, someone should be helping you.

Donghyuck retells the whole story of how you met and how disappointed he was when you didn’t call. He told everyone about how he got this job because his friend’s girlfriend, who is Yeri, knew he needed a part-time job. He got to the Funfair having no idea what he was going to do, much less knowing that you worked here too. He told them how happy he got the first time he saw you helping Mina at the food stalls, and how he recognized you by your voice, because he couldn’t really see much when he was wearing the costume.

He told them all about how he tried getting your attention as Sunny when you didn’t seem to recognize him, but it backfired because you couldn’t remember him and he was starting to get sad. He told them that he actively avoided you when he wasn’t wearing his costume to avoid the embarrassment of you not knowing who he was. Then, he said how you accidentally found out who he was, how he got closer to you each day and how it all backfired when he confessed last Saturday and you rejected him.

"Are you gaslighting me into thinking I don't like you?" Donghyuck asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I am simply stating the fact that you are most likely only having fun flirting with me," you explained, sipping your drink. "It's like a sport to some people."

"Well, not to me," he scoffed, leaning back on the couch feeling frustrated at your words.

"Either way, it's probably not real feelings. At least not towards me." you said, not looking in his eyes.

"You are unbelievably stubborn, blind and borderline rude," he spitted out, feeling the anger building up. How dare you have a say on what he feels about you?

"See? Why would you like someone with a nasty personality like that?" your arms moved around excitingly, as if you were proving your point. "You like the chase, not me!"

And then, Donghyuck confessed how he was ready to look you in the eyes and fight back, but the words died on his throat when he saw the huge smile on your face. He paid attention to the way your palms were open in front of you, arms stretched towards him, the way that wrinkles were all around your eyes from how much you were smiling and how excited you looked. He admitted that it dawned upon him that he likes you to the extent that he could let you keep thinking, for a moment, that he's not absolutely in falling for you if it meant that you would keep smiling like that.

Donghyuck understands that he can't always win. So, he gave you that one, letting you think you were right. He let you go back to your milkshake and your pancakes tasting of syrup and the satisfaction of being on the winning end of an argument.

He let you win that battle so he could win the war. Eventually.

“How will you win her over, then?” Mina looks at him curiously.

“I don’t have a plan,” Donghyuck sees the disapproving look on their faces and quickly adds. “Yet.” They all look at him suspiciously, and he can see Taeyong’s amused face. “Can’t you guys help me? You’re all her friends.”

"Oh, no," Chenle clicks his tongue while excessively shaking his index finger "No, no."

"We're here to judge not to meddle," Jisung says and all of them start moving around, getting ready to go to work.

"Yeah, take Jisung and Mina as an example, they got together by themselves. We never helped, only judged.” Yeri complements, making Jisung agree with a sad ‘yeah’.

"That's so messed up," Donghyuck shakes his head in disbelief. "You are all insane."

"Well, I can call her a coward if it helps you," Chenle. "It's what I did to Mina all these years."

"That's mean, Chenle,” Taeyong says disapprovingly.

"Frankly, it worked eventually," Mina replies as she stands up from the seat and stretches.

She kisses Jisung cheek and heads out, and, slowly, everybody goes to their normal, uneventful job at Sunny’s Funfair Park and Recreation.

After the eventful Saturday when Donghyuck confessed, you never touched the “feelings” subject anymore. He is still Lee Donghyuck, your friend and coworker whom, sometimes, you go out with. Nothing more, nothing less. And on days like today, when it has been raining non stop since 10 a.m, it was amazing having an energetic friend like him.

You don’t know how he did it, really. The rain caught you all by surprise, so Donghyuck, who works outside, had to stay in the breakroom until the rain stopped, and that only happened around 9 p.m. There were no customers at all, the park was empty and even though you were supposed to stay open until midnight today, Taeyong decided to let you all go home early.

Chenle was complaining how the last hangout had been the one at Jisung’s house before Mina and him were even dating, and just like that, all of you end up in Donghyuck’s apartment drinking hot chocolate and playing card games.

It’s time for all of you to show your cards and you hear Chenle groan as Donghyuck smirks and gets all the tokens from the table.

“It’s rigged, he got a full house twice and then royal flush right after,” Chenle scoffs and Donghyuck just laughs.

“Damn, he really won three times in a row?” Mina says and you and Jisung just exchange confused looks, having no idea what had happened.

“Poker is a very confusing game,” you think out loud and Donghyuck smiles sweetly at you.

“Lucky at cards, unlucky in love,” he mumbles, shuffling the cards. “Do you wanna play again or will you keep crying?”

You look at the empty popcorn bowls and mugs beside you and look at Jisung who is just as confused as you. Tired of playing a game you can barely understand, you just shake your head. “You can keep playing, I’ll wash the dishes.”

Before you can even get all of the mugs around you, Donghyuck is standing up, holding the popcorn bowls and a few mugs. You don’t have time to tell him to keep playing because he just goes straight to the kitchen, making you follow him. When you get there, he already has the gloves and the sponge on his hand.

“I thought I said I’d do it,” you angrily put your hands on your hips, scolding him with your eyes.

“I’m sorry it’s against the house rules to have a beautiful lady washing the dishes,” he bumps his hips with yours, making you scoff as you try to hide your smile.

“Where’s Jeno, by the way?” you say, leaning your back on the kitchen sink, right next to him. “You invited us over before telling him, didn’t you?”

“Nah, it’s cool.” He shrugs. “He told me he wasn't going to spend the night here today anyways.”

“Girlfriend?” You raise an eyebrow, leaning a little to his side, almost brushing your shoulders together.

“Why are you so curious? Do I have to compete with Jeno?” He asks playfully and you just push his shoulder.

“I was just asking.” You mumble, moving back to your original position. “By the way, Doyoung told me the other day that Jeno is like his brother? And Yeri gave you this job? Your relationships are so confusing.”

He laughs looking at you fondly. “What do you wanna know? Ask away.”

“Hm, how do you know Doyoung? And Yeri? And Jeno?”

“Do you want to know my family tree too?” He jokes and you show him your tongue. “Jeno, Mark and I are childhood friends, Doyoung hyung’s family is really close to Jeno’s, so we all just know each other from birthday parties and stuff. We are not that close though.”

“Oh.” You mumble nodding. “Yeri told us she got you the job though?”

“Yeah, she's been dating Mark for like a year?” He says, shrugging. “Either way, that was a coincidence, I didn’t know she knew Doyoung hyung. Actually, I thought he was working at his father’s law firm? I don’t know what happened, his family is weird.”

“Damn, I was here waiting for the tea and you don’t know anything!” You huff, faking annoyance. “You’re really bad at gossiping.” You notice he is starting to rinse the dishes in the sink, so you grab the towel that’s on the counter.

“And you’re really bad at poker.” He fights back, giving you some mugs to dry and put away. “Why did you say you liked playing cards if you’re bad at it?”

“It’s because I don’t know how to play poker,” you answer, lining up the dry mugs on the counter. “I like to play rummy, not poker.”

“You should have said so.” He gently places the two big popcorn bowls and closes the faucet. “We could have played that instead.”

“It’s okay, I just wanted to hang out with you.” You confess, hoping he understands you weren’t using the plural form of the pronoun. “I didn’t know you were that good at poker, though, I thought you only played League of Legends or whatever.”

“I’m not good, it was rigged,” He leans to whisper in your ears and you feel your pulse hammering on your neck. He chuckles at your startled expression, thinking you’re reacting to his confession, not to his proximity. “I’m joking, don’t be that shocked. Jeno and I just play a lot.”

“What about your other friend?” you ask, not really minding his proximity.

“Mark?” He scoffs when you nod. “He can’t bluff to save his life.”

“You smell nice,” you blurt out and his eyes go wide at your sudden confession. “I- I meant your house.” You use this moment as an opportunity to slide away from him. “Your house smells nice, do you use scented candles?” He chuckles, ready to tease you, but lets it slide.

In the living room, Jisung is sleeping like a rock on Mina’s lap, who is starting to doze off as well. Chenle pokes his friends' arms, saying he has to go because his mom is already worried about his whereabouts. Slowly, they all start to collect their belongings and when you and Donghyuck are back from the kitchen, they are all ready to go. The two of you are taken aback as they bid their goodbyes and thank Donghyuck for being the host for the night.

You decide to stay a little longer to help the owner of the apartment to put everything back in place, when he suddenly asks you to stay the night.

“It’s late, I’ll worry if you go back now,” he pouts. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m serious.”

“I go home late everyday, it’s fine.”

“You have 2 choices,” he raises his index and middle finger in front of you. “Either I take you home or you stay the night.”

“Why didn’t you suggest taking the others home too?” you cross your arms in front of him, clearly challenging Donghyuck. Oh, he is so ready for another battle, but this time he won’t bend.

“Because Jeno has the car.”

“Then how are you taking me home?” you tilt your head playfully.

“I’ll get an uber,” he shrugs, making you laugh.

“I was already gonna do that, silly,” you fish your phone out of your pocket to open the app, but Donghycuk steals the phone from your hands. “Donghyuck!”

“I’ll get an uber,” he says, locking your phone and putting it in the front pocket of his sweatpants. “And go with you to drop you off.”

You laugh, clearly amused at his absurd suggestion. “There is no way I’ll let you do that.”

“There is no way I’ll let you get inside a stranger's cars by yourself at 1 a.m.” The firm tone of his voice was enough to let you know he was not dropping this argument like he did last time.

“And how will you get back to your apartment?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s none of your-” you get too close to him and he feels the words dying in his throat at the thought of you hugging him. Donghyuck quickly reacts, though, when he feels you putting your hands inside the left pocket of his sweatpants, making him hold your arms to keep you in place. “HEY. Bad girl.”

“Don’t say that, I’m not a dog.” You grunt, trying to break free from his hold. “Give me my phone, back Hyuck.”

Your whines don’t affect him too much, as he keeps his strong hold on you. You start to take a few steps around the living room, shaking your arms as you try to make him let go. Picturing this scene in your head, you start laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing must look.

“Good girls don’t fight with daddy!” He forces a mocking sexy voice, making you laugh even harder. “Damn, I love you laugh.”

You are still giggling when you turn to look at his face. Donghyuck is already staring at you with utmost adoration and slightly curved lips. Your heart skips a few beats when your eyes lock and he bites his lips to hold his ever growing smile.

“I really love the sound of your laugh.”

His face is closer to yours than you remember, and it’s when he loosens the hold on your arms, only to slide his hands to hold yours, that you realize you have been holding your breath.

“If you don’t want me to go with you, then, stay.” He whispers, using your interlocked hands to pull you closer to him. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“You suggested riding the uber with me,” you smile shyly, slightly moving your head to the side, giving him the space he wanted to pull you closer and nuzzle up against your neck. “Aren’t you being overprotective?”

“Is it a crime, now?” you get goosebumps when you feel him mumbling against your neck.

“It’s toxic,” you joke, taking your hands out of his grasp and raising your arms to place them around his neck. “You smell really good,” you whisper again and feel him taking a deep breath, before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Stay, please.”

Donghyuck may have not convinced you the first time he confessed because he had been too straightforward, too casual about it. He should have known better than that. Casual flirting and occasional dates weren’t enough to win you over. That’s why he lost the first battle. But when he wakes up in the middle of the night to turn his AC on because even though you’re both sweating, you don’t let him get out of your arms, he knows he’s one step closer to winning the war.

The first thing you do when you open your eyes the following morning is wonder what time it is. You palm the side of the bed to look for your phone, only to feel a human arm. You open your eyes, recognizing Donghyuck’s room. He has one of his arms under your neck, the other one is lazily around your waist and his head nuzzled against your nape. You smile, dreading the moment he wakes up and starts teasing you for staying the night and sleeping on his bed holding him.

You consider calling out today, because you are almost sure that by the time you get there, everybody will be aware that you and Donghyuck cuddled all night long.

Carefully, you get out of bed and go straight to the kitchen to get a cup of water. You shouldn’t feel as comfortable at somebody else’s house as you are right now. When you were about to head back to Donghyuck’s room, Jeno entered the kitchen, with damp hair and wearing only gym shorts. The boy stops on his tracks and you two stare at each other, frozen.

“Hello?” The boy greets you with a frown and closed fists, and you give him an apologetic smile.

“Hey. Hi. Good morning.” You answer avoiding eye contact, completely mortified of the encounter. “I-I just- Hyuck told me-”

“Oh, you're with Hyuck?” he acknowledges, smiling at you. “I thought somebody had broken in.”

“Yeah, sorry. I thought he had let you know I was staying the night.” You apologize again, and suddenly feel self-aware of your outfit consisting of Donghyuck clothes. “I’ll go back-”

You hear a door opening and steps heading towards the kitchen, and, suddenly, Donghyuck appears. Swollen face, bed hair and shirtless… you feel like melting right there.

“It’s not even 11 yet, why did you-” He looks at Jeno with his squint eyes and then back at you, only to gasp and slap his friend’s chest. “JENO? BE DECENT, GO PUT ON A SHIRT.”

“OUCH, THAT HURTS, ASSHAT!” The boy soothes the place where he was slapped, looking angrily at his friend. “You’re shirtless too!”

“I JUST WOKE UP!” He slaps his friend again, now getting in front of him to block your view. “HONEY, DON’T LOOK!”

“AND I WAS JOGGING?” Jenos slaps Donghyuck Back and you just laugh at how childish they look. “Oh, wait, honey?” He moves to the side to look at you again, but Donghyuck stays in his way. “Dude?”

“Stop moving around, she doesn’t need to see how ripped you are.” Donghyuck bites back and you chuckle.

Jeno shoves Donghyuck to the side and waves at you. “Sorry, he’s very impolite and didn’t think about introducing us. I’m Jeno.”

“SHIRT, JENO. SHIRT.” Donghyuck shouts, as he pushes his friend towards the hallway.

You stay there in the kitchen, holding your laugh, because of course you couldn’t have a nice and calm morning with Lee Donghyuck.

“Hey. Hi. How are you?” Donghyuck comes back a few seconds later, panting. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.” You nod, biting your lips to hold your laugh while Donghyuck just walks towards you very, very flustered. “Why are you shirtless? I clearly remember you going to sleep fully clothed.”

“Well, if only someone wasn’t holding me so damn tight the whole night…” He grabs you by the waist, making you yelp in surprise. “When did you wake up?”

“Not long ago.” You answer as he nuzzles your neck and hums.

“What about Jeno?�� He asks again, pressing you closer to him, making you involuntarily put your hands on his shoulder to keep your balance. “Did you stare at his ripped abs and toned arms for a long time or did he just get here?”

“You’re so annoying.” You cackle at his question, which only makes him hug you tighter. “Why? Are you jealous?” He tightens his hold on you even more, making you let out chuckles and whines “OUCH, you’re hurting me.”

“I’m holding you.” He answers, walking with you further down the kitchen. “I know the competition is strong, but, come on, I’m hot too, right?” He creates some space between you, just enough to look at you, pouting.

“Donghyuck,” you start and he hums, telling you to keep going. “Do you think you could set me up with Jeno?” You say mischievously, making him squint his eyes angrily at you.

He pokes his cheek with his tongue and rolls his eyes at you. Before you can see it coming, he presses you against the kitchen counter and starts tickling your sides, making you squirm and beg him to stop, but having fun nonetheless.

You can’t say you didn’t see it coming. After that night in Donghyuck’s house, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the butterflies in your stomach each time he did something for you.

You really try to restrain yourself as much as possible, but there is so much a human being can resist when Lee Donghyuck comes out of nowhere and slides his hands from your nape down to your lower back and kisses your cheeks right after. Or when you’re sitting next to each other in the break room and he plays with your fingers under the table. Or when you’re eating out and he makes sure to keep your hair out of the way for you. Or when he takes Jeno’s car and picks you up late at night from your shifts, even when it’s his day off. Or when-

“Hey, pay attention,” Mina nudges you as Taeyong enters the room, followed by Doyoung, Yuta and a panting Donghyuck, who’s late.

“Sorry, I’m late, I had-”

“Just sit down, Hyuck.” You have never heard such a serious grave tone coming out of Taeyong's mouth before. “Please.”

You all look at each other worried about what is about to happen. When the words leave Taeyong’s mouth, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you all are, though. It’s still shocking, though. From the moment you started, you knew this job wouldn’t last.

“You’re closing forever?” Jisung asks cautiously, making Yuta look at him fondly.

“Yeah, buddy. My parents decided to sell it.” Taeyong smiles apologetically at the three best friends. Chenle is frozen, staring at the managers with his mouth agape. “I know how Sunny’s Funfair is special for the three of you, I’m sorry, Lele, Ji, and Min. I wish I had something else to say, but I can only apologize for this news.”

“Don’t make a speech or else Jisung’s gonna cry.” Chenle tries to joke to lighten up the mood, but his friend only reacts by giving him a light tap on the shoulder.

“In the meantime, we will keep working.” Doyoung moves around the break room and hands us a sheet of paper. “Opening tasks, everybody! Let’s do our best during the time that’s left.”

You take a glance at Donghyuck who looks at you worriedly. You offer him a sad smile and shrug, which he mimics, making you smile wider.

“Hey, you two, did you hear Doyoung?” Yuta points at you and Donghyuck. “Stop flirting, go back to work!”

The gloomy vibes don’t go away for at least four days, when Taeyong appears with a cake and a box full of old pictures. The park was closed, but he asked us to stay, telling us it would be worth it and promising to give us a ride home.

We are all seated around the table, eating cake, with taeyong in the middle seat showing us old pictures of the park. There were pictures of families, of former employees, and even of Taeyong and his family. You could see from the first day at the job how much he liked being Sunny’s Funfair Parks and Recreation. It was more than an old park that he had to manage because it’s what his parents told him to do. He actually believed that this small, beaten up amusement park could serve as a way of bringing happiness to the community and help families build cheerful memories together. But there is only so much one can do. You could see that this moment of bringing together the staff and encouraging us to share our best memories of the park is a way of giving Taeyong some comfort.

You sigh, looking sadly at your boss as he rummages through the box of pictures and feel Donghyuck’s arm resting on your shoulder, slightly bringing you closer to his side.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He whispers in your ear and you just turn your head to look at him. Oh, you owed Sunny’s Funfair so much.

“Just thinking.” You lower your head to look at the piece of cake in front of you. “Taeyong did a great job.”

“Hey, you two lovebirds, stop flirting,” Taeyong says, quickly standing up.

“When did I become the butt end of your teasing and not Jisung and Mina?” You ask no one in particular, but Chenle replies.

“Ever since you and Donghyuck started dating.”

“We are not-”

“I have THE ultimate picture here in my hands.” Taeyong interrupts you, as he holds one picture close to his chest, with the back facing us. There is something written behind it and you squint to try to read it, but he is too far from you. “This one here is our most prized possession as a team. We have to cherish this picture.”

“Show us this damn picture.” Chenle’s impatient demeanor falters when Taeyong turns the picture and we see three little children holding hands at the entrance of the park. “What the-”

“How did you get that picture?” Mina tries to take it from Taeyong, but fails.

“Is that us?” Jisung asks dumbfounded.

“There’s a note too.” Taeyong flips the picture and reads the note. “ ‘Today is the day where our Chenle is celebrating his sixth birthday. Thank you so much for the fun memories, Sunny!’ and it’s signed by Mrs. Zhong.”

After their initial shock, you start analyzing the picture, looking at the details: the birthday hat on Chenle’s chubby face, Jisung’s missing teeth and Mina’s ice lolly that was melting in her hands as they were taking the pictures. Then, you see dozens of other pictures, all sent by Chenle’s mom with a note, thanking the staff for the happy memories they created with the children. Taeyong says that his mom was one of the people who used to send messages and pictures to the administration, back when the park was a little more lively.

When you get home, almost ready to go to bed, you reflect on how that place has meant so much for some people, how it is full of memories and how it holds stories from the entire neighborhood. You think about how that was supposed to be only a job, and yet, it is the place that has brought amazing people to your life. You know Funfair’s closing is inevitable, but you finally understood what Taeyong was trying to do that night: closure. He doesn’t want to shut it down and just let everyone move on with their lives as if it didn’t matter, because, for many people, like Chenle, Jisung and Mina, it mattered.

Sunny’s Funfair Parks and Recreation holds stories and you might not be able to save it, but you are ready to tell them.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for another job?” Donghyuck asks as he enters the parking lot. “I mean, I think it’s a nice idea, I really do. But…”

“I am looking, I just haven’t found anything yet.” You say, taking the parking ticket from his fingers and putting it inside your bag.

“I know you’re lying because you've been saying this for three weeks.” He parks the car and turns off the engine, but doesn’t open the doors. “Have you at least applied to anything?”

“Look,” you sigh and hold his face in your hands. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll figure it out.”

He sighs as he sees you unbuckling your belt and unlocking the door. “I hope you know you can’t be my trophy wife yet, I don’t have enough money to pay both of our bills.”

“To be your trophy wife, first and foremost, I need to be married to you.” You turn around to see him leaning on the car with the door open. “We’re not even dating yet.”

“Because you rejected me when I asked you out.” He closes the car’s door and reaches for your hand.

“Ask me again, then.” You say raising an eyebrow at him.

“Will the answer be different?

“I don’t know. Ask me out again.” you shrug and interrupt him when you see Donghyuck opening his mouth. “Properly.”

“Damn.” He sighs and you chuckle at him. “Why me? The world is female, you can ask too, you know?”

You enter the building, telling Donghyuck to wait while you talk to the receptionist. A few minutes later, a very stressed Renjun appears to talk to you. From afar, Donghyuck can see that the boy seemed frustrated at whatever you were arguing, glaring at you and sighing a lot. He knows Renjun was forced by his parents to drop out of art school and start business so he could work in his family company, so the least he needed right now was a very stubborn you adding to his stress.

At some point, he sees Renjun grabbing his phone from the inside pocket of his blazer and making a phone call. Donghyuck starts to think that it was better if you went to a more private place, but you seemed adamant about cornering Renjun in public. Not even two minutes later, he finishes the phone call and tells you something that makes you hug him and Donghyuck sees how his angry demeanor falters. You bid him goodbye and wave at Donghyuck so you can both go.

“What was that?” He asks as you hand him the parking ticket.

“I just needed one last favor from him.” You simply say, reaching for his hands.

“And that is…”

“You’ll see.”

It’s when you intertwine your fingers with Donghyuck and beams at him, that he knows he’s ready to confess again.

You did promise that he would see. Well, not only Donghyuck but the whole student body as well. A week after that weird interaction with Renjun, there is an article about you in the school’s official website, first page. It was also mentioned on the school’s newsletter and official social media pages. It was not only an article about you, but about Chenle, Jisung, Mina, Taeyong… All of you at the Funfair.

Donghyuck had to admit that when you told him your idea at first, he didn’t think you would go through with that. You wanted to tell the others the stories that the Funfair had seen throughout the years throughout an article and later, compile them in a book of memories, with pictures, messages, notes, stories about the place. He really didn’t think you would go through with that considering how much time and planning something like that takes, but, somehow, you did it.

It’s your last day. You spent the past month talking to people, curating pictures, writing, organizing schedules… you were tired, but it was all worth it. You wanted to let this old beaten up park tell the stories it held, even if it was gone. That’s why now, when the lights are already off and Taeyong is only waiting for you to come outside and lock the side door for one last time, you hand him a book with a small bow on top. You see, a little far from where you stand, your friends looking at each other confused, Yeri particularly impatient to go home.

“I want you to have this.” Taeyong looks at you confused. “It was a lot of work to get this done, especially because I’m not very artsy, but I think I owe you this one.”

He opens the book only to find, in a very neat handwriting, the words “Sunny’s memories” written. He looks between you and the book, slightly confused about what it is about, but when he flips the next page, he smiles. He finds a picture of him, Doyoung and Yuta taken many years ago. There were a few arrows connecting their faces to the words “boss”, “manager #1”, “manager #2”.

On the side, there was a small text about each one of them, how they ended up working there, what were their thoughts about the job and their favorite memory there. Every piece of information you gathered in these months working at the park was there, even some of the stories your boss has told you. Taeyong keeps flipping the pages, only to find more pictures of each one of you working there, your names, your thoughts, your memories, all written as if it was from Sunny’s perspective. He looks at you with watery eyes and pulls you to a hug.

“What it’s all this?” He sniffs.

“That day, when you showed us the pictures, I realized places hold stories and this one had many to tell.” You smile and he pats your head. “I know you didn’t want to close the park and let everybody move on as if it never mattered to anyone because it did. To some of us, at least. You did a great job, boss.”

“Oh, kid.” He sniffs and once again hugs you. “It’s perfect!” Taeyong said happily, taking you and his present towards the others. “Everybody, you need to see this!”

Now, after Sunny closed down, you are back to square one.

It’s a Friday night and you were invited to a party, but you managed to convince Donghyuck to stay at his apartment with you. You certainly needed a distraction after another week of failed attempts at getting a job and you know Donghyuck is much more entertaining than any party.

Your relationship status is still pretty much complicated. Even though it was already clear that you both liked each other, Donghyuck still hasn’t asked you the question, waiting for the right moment. It was really hard for him not to cross the friendship line, though, especially when, more often than not, he has make out sessions with you on his couch.

The worst for Donghyuck is how your friends have been keeping their promise of not meddling, but making sure of judging the both of you each time you deny you’re dating while Donghyuck’s hands are intertwined with yours. Tonight, with Jeno away at a party, you have his apartment all to yourselves and Donghyuck decides to make the most out of it. He needs to confess today.

“Hi.” You smile, showing him the take out bag you’re carrying when he opens the door. Your smile falters when you see him frown. “Am I too early? I can-”

“I thought I was supposed to pick you up.” He pouts, moving to the side to let you go inside. “And you shouldn’t have brought take out, I told you I could cook for us.”

“Oh my god, I barely got here and you’re complaining already?” You put the take out on the kitchen counter and go wash your hands.

“It’s just that you’re ruining my plans.” Donghyuck says while peeking inside the bag. “Is this…”

“Yeah, your favorite, kimchi-jjigae.” You turn around to look at him when you hear his groan. “What, now?”

“I had the whole thing planned, you just-”

“Well, maybe you should have told me then!” You scoff. “I just wanted to make something nice for you because I know your new job at the office is killing you, but I’m sorry I guess?”

You start to feel frustrated at his reaction. You were expecting tight hugs, warm smiles and maybe some cuddles, but all Donghyuck has done in the past few minutes is complain and blame you for ruining something you didn’t even know that existed. He senses your frustration and sadness and just quietly holds your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, not really looking at you. “It’s just that I really wanted to do something nice for you too.”

“You always do nice things for me. You’re too nice to me.” You say, turning around to grab bowls to pour the food in. “I got this one.”

Despite Donghyuck’s plan of picking you up, bringing you to his apartment, cooking your favorite food and confessing the words that he has been dying to say failed, he still needs to do it tonight. Well, after months of pining, it was now or never. If you reject him again, he needs to be ready to move on.

“How’s the job?” You ask before taking a bite of your food.

“Hell.” He answers, groaning. “I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to study business. I hate that job.”

“Do you really hate the job or do you just hate the boss?” You raise an eyebrow, knowing fully well that Donghyuck doesn’t really hate what he does, he just can’t stand the presumptuous guys in his office, treating him like garbage just because he’s an intern.

“What about you?” He frowns when he sees you pouting at your food. “I don’t like this face.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You laugh humorlessly.

“I told you, give me five years and you can be my trophy wife.” He jokes, knowing how much you hate the idea.

“Wow, five? That much?”

“I can compromise and make it three if you don’t want kids in the future.” You laugh at his words and try to kick his leg from under the table, but he traps you.

You keep moving between topics because it was just that easy to talk to him. You mentioned how you had seen Mina and Jisung at the campus the other day and Donghyuck points out how he thinks they’re going to get married before graduation. You disagree, Jisung is still a kid. Then, he mentions how he had often seen Chenle around his office, only to find out later that the company he worked at was his grandfather’s. After the Funfair closed, he started working at the family’s company, but Donghyuck says that they are in different departments. You asked about his family that you haven’t met yet, but always heard stories about, and he tells you everything about his younger brother’s record card and his middle sister’s new boyfriend. He doesn’t forget to mention Jeno’s friends with benefits situation, and that he only found out after finding lingerie lost in the washing machine.

After dinner, Donghyuck suggests teaching you poker for the tenth time, which makes you slightly annoyed because, at this point, you just hate the game. You are both sitting on the floor and he is leaning his back on the couch while you are seated between his legs. He says the proximity is for “pedagogical purposes”.

“No, honey,” He stops your movement by putting his arm around your body and pulling you closer to him. “Look at my cards! I’m showing you my cards!”

“I don’t know what your cards mean!” You groan as you throw your cards on the pile in front of you and lean your head on his shoulder. “I wanna play rummy.”

“It's a children's game.”

“Well, it’s the only one I know how to play!” you exclaim, easily convincing him with a kiss on his cheek.

You realize playing games is not working very well because you shouldn’t see each other's cards, but that’s a very hard feature to achieve when you don’t want to move away from each other. Eventually, you also get tired of Donghyuck constantly cheating and just suggest that you watch a movie instead.

“Should we watch Monsters University?” you ask, leaning your head on his shoulder and he nods.

“Let’s go, Mike Wazowski!”

You move to the couch, complaining about being too uncomfortable for your butt, and at the end of the movie, you are both sprawled on his couch, with a blanket over you and your legs tangled. You see his eyes closed and smile at how tired he must be, but still chose to spend the night with you. He is close enough for you to nuzzle against his neck, making him stir at the sudden contact. You don’t smell his cologne, but the faint smell of your favorite lavender soap is there, making you smile against his neck.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He asks, running his hands from your nape down your spine.

“You owe me so many pennies.” You joke and he smiles. “I’m just thinking that I’m happy.”

Things didn’t happen the way you wanted from the beginning. You still feel like your life is a mess and sometimes you really think it will be the end soon. But you don't need to think that you’re alone anymore. Not when you have your friends. Not when you have him.

“I’m happy too.” He hums and a comfortable silence rests between you, the only sound is the music from the movie credits on the TV.

You think you are about to drift off to sleep, when Donghyuck stops his hands on the middle of your back and, because you're still nuzzled around his neck, you feel his pulse quickening. You hear him gulp a feel times before he has the courage to speak.

“There’s something that would make me happier.” He cautiously changes your positions, so he can face you when whispering the question he has been dying to ask and you have been dying to hear. “Do you wanna date me?”

“Do you know how impossible it is to say ‘no’ to you?” You kiss his cheek and he closes his eyes, feeling relieved already. “It’s especially unfair when you keep me so close like this.”

When you close the gap between you, holding his face tenderly and giving him the sweetest kiss he has ever tasted, he knows he has won. He definitely has. He moves, making you lie down under him, and as he kisses your neck, he says:

“All is fair in love and war, honey.”

Donghyuck has always tried to communicate with Jeno not only because they are childhood friends and roommates but because they also need privacy. Everybody does. So when Donghyuck tells his friend that he will be away for two days because of a conference, Jeno understands that he will have the apartment all to himself.

What Donghyuck doesn’t expect is to get an email as soon as he arrives at the airport telling him that the conference was canceled and he should head back to the office. He gets so mad that nothing would make him more happy than just killing his boss. He shouldn’t though, because he had promised to make you his trophy wife in five years, so he needs to get a promotion soon. He smiles, thinking of you, and decides to pick you up today.

Even after months of dating, he was still pretty much elated to say that he could pick up his girlfriend at work. His girlfriend. As soon as he pulls up in front of the office’s building, you send him a message.

[mike wasowski - 5:35 p.m] are you here already?

[donghyuck - 5:35 p.m] just got here babe.

[donghyuck - 5:35 p.m] ready?

[mike wasowski - 5:36 p.m] can you give me 15 more minutes?

[donghyuck - 5:36 p.m] i’ll be in the parking lot.

He smiles as he sees you exiting the building wearing a scowl. Oh, he was so ready for your work gossip. Your scrunched up face doesn’t last long, because you can’t help but smile when you see him waving at you. You run to him, hugging him tightly and kissing his lips tenderly, which is his favorite part.

“Hi, girlfriend.” He steals one more kiss from you, making you smile.

“Hi, boyfriend.” You smile, pushing him away from you and opening the car’s door. “Let’s go, I need to tell you what that bitch made me do today.”

That's how you spend the whole drive to his apartment, complaining about one of the managers that keeps making redo things, only to say that you’re slacking off and never get things done. ‘I could get things done if she didn’t keep asking me to solve problems that don’t even exist’, you would always say. He let you vent your pent up anger, so he would do the same about his coworkers.

You had finally found a job at a publishing house, a small one, and it wasn’t exactly the experience as a journalist that you wanted to have, but learning about publishing and editing is surely something positive and way more useful than working at a café like you used to. When life closes a door, it opens a window.

And your boyfriend is very proud of you not only for taking his advice and applying for your current job, but also for admitting that he is very smart. Donghyuck is smart in a lot of areas, it’s just that when it comes to you, he gets a little stupid. That’s why you get to his apartment and see something both of you shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t.

“WHAT THE FUCK, JENO?” Donghyuck screams and you run to the kitchen, thinking something bad happened. “NO BABE, DON’T COME, CLOSE YOUR EYES!” He puts his hands on your face before you can even understand what’s going on.

“WHAT THE FUCK, DONGHYUCK? YOU TOLD ME YOU’D BE AWAY FOR TWO DAYS.” Jeno screams back, hurriedly looking for his shirt to cover himself.

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WOULD BE BALLS DEEP INSIDE SOMEONE ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER!” You fight him, trying to take his hands off your face, but Donghyuck is faster than you. “Don’t try to look, what are you trying to look at?”

“Jeno, I-” The girl sitting on the counter looks mortified.

“I’m not trying to see anything, I’m trying to set free because you’re crushing my skull.” You keep moving, trying to fight him while Jeno and the girl are putting their clothes on.

“I know you’re tryna see Jeno naked. I’m your boyfriend, the only dick you’re allowed to see is mine.” He keeps his hand pressed against your eyes making you whine even more.

“Stop being a freak! You’re just pressing my eyes too aggressively.” You reach forward, trying to find his face. “And what about you? Uh? Are you trying to see Jeno’s girlfriend naked? I’m the only one you’re allowed to see naked.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” “She’s not my girlfriend.” Both of them say at the same time, looking at each other sheepishly, while you and Donghyuck keep bickering at the kitchen's door.

“IF I CAN'T SEE JENO’S DICK, YOU CAN’T SEE HIS GIRLFRIENDS BOOBS!” You say, accidentally slapping his face as you try to cover his eyes as well.

“Are you SLAPPING me because I won’t let you see JENO’S DICK?” Donghyuck complains.

“I SLAPPED YOU BECAUSE I CAN’T SEE SHIT, YOU MOTHERFUC-”

He cuts you off by kissing your lips and pushing you to the hallway, warning the ones left behind: “JUST CLEAN EVERYTHING WHEN YOU’RE DONE!”

Donghyuck thinks that the first step before turning you into his trophy wife is buying his own place.

#nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct timestamps #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #haechan drabbles #haechan fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct x reader #haechan scenarios

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