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nnight-dances · 10 months

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ADORABLY, YOURS.

pairings: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader, feat. choi seungcheol tropes: love triangle, friends to lovers (jeonghan x you), strangers to friends to fwb to friends (seungcheol x you), kinda slowburn, one-sided love (or is it?), pining, slight age gap (2-3 years) etc. genres: fluff, angst, jealousy, sexual content (no explicit smut content but references to it) with vulgar language, cafe!au, non-idol!au, college!au. word count: 12k (I am sorry about this.) what to expect: You’ve liked Jeonghan since you met him through your best friend, Wonwoo. But little by little every day you’re convinced he knows you like him and his non-action can only mean your feelings are not mutual. Then, you run into Seungcheol, a childhood best friend of Jeonghan’s, who instantly develops a soft spot for you. The resulting love triangle that wreaks havoc on your emotions might as well end being the answer to your problems. Bittersweet like coffee but decisive as a caffeine rush, this is the story of how you beat all odds to be with Yoon Jeonghan. warnings slash author’s note: I warn you beforehand: the logistics of this love triangle are a bit morally ambiguous, i.e. I can’t tell if I used Seungcheol purely as a plot-point or not. I probably did. But in my defense, I think all love triangles are inherently a little bit evil and cruel. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this admittedly self-indulgent mammoth of a fic. I had a headache the whole three days I was writing it. I love Jeonghan and I promise there will be a make-up fic for Seungcheol, because I’m biased but not corrupt. As always, this isn't proofread but I will get to that in the next few days! All right, that’s all. Love you, friends and foes!

It’s one of those days. You can’t help yawn after yawn and no amount of caffeine is washing the throbbing in your head away. To make things worse, you’ve managed to sleep with a spine posture worse than even your worst days which means your back hurts from standing at the register all day. But the day is far from over as a glance at the clock informs you; your cafe shift has a good three hours remaining.

And whenever you’re hoping to take a break on the uncomfortable chair propped in a corner near the register, the door to the cafe will jingle with the presence of a new customer. At least your co-worker for the day, Joshua, is also a friend so you can talk his ear off about the various ways in which you might escape the prison of existence.

Just as you’re going into detail about how you wouldn’t mind dissipating into air, the glass door swings open and in comes a tall man clad in a suit, the heels of his dress shoes clanking against the floor of the coffee shop. You reign in the surprised look that threatens to overtake your face – because goddamn, the man is gorgeous – as you greet him, “Good morning! Welcome to Moon Coffee!”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” the man corrects you with a dimpled smile. You wince at your mistake and nod, “Right, sorry about that. What can I get started for you?” You force a smile that you hope is friendly enough onto your face, gesturing to the large menu boards above you, “Please, take your time.”

As the man busies his eyes with the plentiful options displayed on the boards, you busy yourself with questioning what a fancy ass man like him was doing at the campus coffee shop. His hair was long, brown ends curling around his neck and as he ran a hand through it, deep in thought, you could essentially smell how rich he was.

“The hazelnut mocha sounds like it’s good but also really sweet,” he comments, looking at you for a second opinion.

“Right, it’s one of our best-sellers! And it is on the sweeter side because of the chocolate in it, but you could balance it out with a double-shot?” you suggest and then, “Otherwise, our classic mochas are not as sweet.”

The man nods with a slight smile, “Hmm, I like the sound of the first option. I’ll have that, please.”

“Is that an iced hazelnut mocha with a double-shot for you?” you ask with a smile. When he nods, you punch in his order, “Can I get a name for the drink?”

“Seungcheol.”

“All right, thank you very much. That’ll take just a few minutes. You’re welcome to take a seat and wait.” He nods as he walks to one of the tables next to the window.

Joshua’s already getting to work with Seungcheol’s drink and you take a moment to rest your back against the counter, throwing a glance or two at the new (and gorgeous) face in town. But thankfully for this rich stranger, today is the day you don’t have the energy to go down a rabbit hole trying to find an explanation for his presence. Instead you wave him a good day as he leaves with a satisfied smile on his face and an iced mocha in his hand.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

A week later has you eating your words. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Thursday afternoons are the busiest times of your shift at Moon Coffee. Most students were either rushing to down caffeine to finish some daunting assignment due at the end of the week or otherwise, others would be early in celebrating the fast-approaching weekend. The first kind you can deal with: they’re easy to relate to and they don’t really care if your customer service is the bare minimum from how tired you are.

But the second kind? You wish you could be granted with some kind of powers that would take away any more weekends from the rest of their lives. If the way they strolled in grinning and took their time with the menu didn’t have you fuming, their inane but obnoxious questions about your life would have you at the edge of your temper every week. You were only thankful you didn’t have to work the Friday crowds or you’d actually be declared a public threat.

But today, unfortunately for you, Jeonghan’s decided to make a visit to the cafe and if the fact that he’s not even a student anymore wasn’t enough, he was celebrating his birthday week. Which meant he was even worse than in exhibiting his usual infuriating customer behavior. But annoying customer or not, Jeonghan was also the guy you’ve harbored feelings for since two years ago now.

So when he strolls up to the counter with Seungcheol, the polite rich man from last week, by his side, you have more than one reason to stare at them dumbfounded.

“Oh, hey, it’s you!” Seungcheol starts, eyes trailing to the name on your tag, “Y/N!”

Jeonghan shoots you a confused look and then elbows Seunghceol, “Don’t even pretend that you know her. I totally caught you looking at her name tag. Have a little shame, Cheol.”

You clear your throat, “Um, good afternoon and welcome to Moon Coffee! What can I get started for you?” You punctuate the question with a smile that you hope screams please order fast and get out of here!

But Jeonghan evidently has long missed the memo when he pokes Seungcheol again, “You know sometimes I come here just so I can see Y/N smiling. She never smiles off the clock. It’s truly devastating.”

Seungcheol looks amused, “Is that so? I mean, fair enough. With a smile like that, you ought to be paid to show it.”

You cough into your palm, caught off-guard but quick to conceal the shy grin that’s crept up your face. You pray that the heat in your neck doesn’t climb up to show on your face. “Will you be ordering the same as last week? Iced hazelnut mocha with a double-shot?”

Seungcheol’s face lights up a little at your recognition but Jeonghan’s quickly butting in with an affronted expression, “Oh, so you recognize this man who’s been here once, but not your close friend of a long long time? Do you even know how much money I’ve spent on the seasonal lattes here?”

You sport a sly smile, “Right, thank you for enjoying our seasonal menu of beverages. We hope you continue to love the upcoming drinks. Feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions here!” You hand him a brand-new index card and gesture at a drop-box next to your monitor.

Seungcheol cackles at the defeated look on Jeonghan’s face and grins as he says, “You know what, I think I’ll get the same mocha again, Y/N. It did wonders for my mood.” You find yourself grinning almost immediately, tapping in his order with a hum.

“And for you?”

“...”

You know Jeonghan’s scheming something but you can’t afford to let him play out whatever sick mind games he’s planned out at your workplace so you’re quick to appease him, “If I might, I suggest you go for the salted caramel brownie latte. It’s perfect for this weather and it tastes suspiciously like birthday cake.”

Jeonghan can’t help a smile at your words, rolling his eyes a little, “Fine. That does sound tempting. I’ll have one of those, but only if I get a personalized note from you wishing me a very very happy birthday.”

You contain a scoff, “Of course.” You nod, “Thankfully for the line behind you, I already have your names down. Please step aside while we prepare your drinks. Thank you.”

–

“She’s hilarious,” chuckles Seungcheol, bumping shoulders with Jeonghan as they settle into his car. “Didn’t think I would witness Yoon Jeonghan’s downfall in a random college cafe.”

Jeonghan scoffs, “I think you’re too happy about this. Plus, my downfall started a long time ago when I stopped cheating in board games.” He takes a sip of his latte, “Fuck, this does taste like cake. What the fuck?”

Despite his words, Jeonghan smiles when he sees the note you promised him:

jeonghan – happy birthday week, u weird old man! please invite me to ur birthday party so i can give u the best gift of ur life and maybe also stick ur head in cake :) lots of love, y/n.

“She’s in her senior year, you said?”

Jeonghan looks up with a nod, “Yeah, I met her through Wonwoo, back when we shared a class in college. And then when I graduated and settled here, I’d invite them to get-togethers because I know how miserable the nightlife on this campus is.”

“Wow, look at you, such an admirable role model,” Seungcheol jokes, “And Wonwoo? Was he the glasses guy who you FaceTimed this morning? He seemed… cool, I guess.”

Jeonghan shrugs with a shoulder, “He’s a piece of work, alright. But that explains why he and Y/N are inseparable. Anyway, you’ll meet the rest of the crew later tonight. Thursday night is board game night.”

‘Board Game Night’ was a very, very loose term for the weekly gathering at Jeonghan’s place – it was a mix of Jeonghan’s friends, namely Dokyeom and Woozi, from work doing karaoke, his tired college friends (aka your friend group) lounging around on their phones, and maybe a group of two to three actually playing board games.

Tonight is slightly different, though, because the alcohol that Jeonghan otherwise wisely guards most weeks has made its presence known to everyone, the fancy bar table propped in a corner of his living room finally finding meaning.

You make it to his place, around thirty minutes past the usual starting time, exhausted from another soul-sucking shift at your job. You’d planned to sit on Jeonghan’s couch and binge-watch some mindless TV show but you’re thrown off when a reddened Seungcheol answers the door.

“Y/N! You’re late,” he exclaims. His speech is normal, thankfully but as you step in to take in the rest of the people, you look back at Seungcheol, eyes doubtful.

“I did not know my night was going to involve babysitting a bunch of drunk old men,” you mutter, not quite meaning for Seungcheol to catch your words. But he does and chuckles, hand at your elbow as he steers you to the bar.

“C’mon, you don’t have to babysit anyone. I’ve got it under control. Now, let me pour you a drink. What can I get for you?”

You watch the tall man with a skeptical smile, a little flustered because he’s standing close enough that you can feel him hard bicep against you and a little bit amused because well, this was new. It’d been a while since you’d been flustered around a man other than Yoon Jeonghan.

“Oh, so you’re making me a drink now?” you ask, “How did you even convince Jeonghan to let out the alcohol? You must have some special powers over him for this to happen.”

Before Seungcheol can supply a reason, Jeonghan appears behind the bar counter, smirking, “Ha! You think I’d let this coward dictate my actions? Nope, this was completely my decision. I couldn’t let the week of my birthday be dry! That’d be such a shame.”

“You’re funny, Han,” you mumble, turning to him with a quirked brow, “How many drinks are you down?”

He waves your concern away, “Shut up. I’m older than you, I don’t need you fussing after me. Now, get yourself a drink before I get mad.”

You raise your hands in surrender, “Sure, wouldn’t want the birthday boy to be made at me.”

“So what will it be? Do you want a beer? Or maybe a good old rum and coke?” Seungcheol offers, eyes already searching for the ingredients.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I think I’ll have a Scotch and Soda, please.”

A few hours later finds you sprawled on Jeonghan’s couch, nevermind the alcohol in your system and the ruckus your friends were creating. You had engaged with their antics for an hour: playing stupid drinking games (only to get drunker by the minute because you suck at games) and retiring early.

Jun starts to complain when you announce that you’re giving up, mainly because he’d be the next target of the crowd, but Jeonghan firmly leads you to the couch.

“You okay?” he asks you, warm fingers steadying you by the neck. Your world spins as he becomes the focus, ironically enough. You nod as you welcome the soft couch underneath your unsteady body, “Hmm. I’m just bummed out that you didn’t help me out by cheating.”

He laughs and the sound unsettles you with its vibrations. “I told you I don’t cheat anymore, silly. Also, I’m pretty sure you’d have lost even if I did pull out some master cheating moves.” You gasp, weakly pushing him away, “Whatever, man, I don’t need your attitude.”

If Jeonghan’s started to genuinely get worried about you, it only gets worse when you cough into your elbow, groaning as you pull away. His hands find your neck again. You hate his touch because you lean into it so naturally, your eyes following him just like he wants. You hate the warm feeling you feel when he feels your forehead with a concerned frown. You hate how you’re practically burning at his touch because he’s a breath away and your fingers twitch in your lap from wanting to touch his hair.

But soft like the strands that tickle your ear, Jeonghan whispers, “God, you’re burning up. Maybe you did drink too much. Fuck, let me bring you some water and then, let’s get you to sleep.”

You protest his lamely sensible plan of action but he isn’t listening as he departs, leaving you feeling cold. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate, trying to keep an eye on Jeonghan when another tall figure encroaches your field of vision.

“Y/N?” Seungcheol calls out and for a moment, you’re unresponsive, eyes fixated on something beyond him but then you perk up in recognition, pouting as you beckon him to the couch.

“You–!” you point at him with a squint, head working hard to recall his name, “Um, um, Cheol?”

Seungcheol smiles at the nickname, taking a seat next to you, leaving some space but extending an arm behind you because of how you’re dangerously swinging. “Right, that is me. How are you feeling? Not too nauseous I hope?”

You shake your head, “”M fine. But tell that to Han because that weasel’s trying to make me sober up and sleep.” You breathe out a little angrily and then when the world swims around you, you lean your head against the back of the couch– that is currently occupied by Seuncheol’s arm.

He jumps a little at the unexpected contact but steadies himself when he sees your closed eyes, your skin hot against his forearm. “Now, why would he do that? You literally just got drunk,” he tells you, trying to keep you engaged in the conversation, lest you should pass out.

“Right?” you exclaim, opening your eyes, head still against his arm, “It’s like he’s never had fun in his life. For how much he likes to tease people, he sure is a killjoy.”

“Ha, I’m surprised you know him so well, honestly. People usually just take him at face value and think he’s a devilish troublemaker. But god knows how mature Jeonghan is. It makes me mad sometimes.”

You giggle and Seungcheol’s stomach swims at how he can feel the sweet sound in his veins, like literally. “You get me, dude. How long have you known him?”

“Um, like, nearly ten years now? I don’t know, I kinda lost count at some point.”

“Wow, that’s a long time. I’ve known him for like two years?” you hum. “Yeah, he told me.”

You quirk a brow at that, lifting your head up in amusement. “You two been talking about me? What did he say? That I’m Wonwoo’s evil twin?”

“Hmm, yeah, something along the lines of that.”

Jeonghan’s back by your side, suddenly, his strong grip straightening you up and holding up a glass of water. His expression is stoic as hell for a board game night and you don’t know if you feel scolded or cared for. It’s always hard to tell with him.

You stare at him blankly, not drinking the water like he wants you to. Instead you turn to Seungcheol, “I don’t want to.”

Your plea is unreasonable, you and Seungcheol both know, and he can practically feel Jeonghan’s glare when you ask Seungcheol, “Cheol, can you tell him I’m not dying? I don’t need to be babied.”

“Yeah, you do,” Jeonghan says, touching the cold glass against your skin. You jump a little with a soft unfair! and Seungcheol sighs, “Hannie, let her be. I don’t think she wants to go to sleep yet.”

“Thank you! At least someone has ears ‘round here!”

Jeonghan shoots his best friend an unreadable look, still firm, “Well, she needs to drink water either way. Unless someone wants the worst hangover of their life the next morning.” This time, his unoccupied hand finds the back of your head, settling into the stray strands of your hair there. “Please, just drink this.”

You find yourself giving in, lips opening up to the glass and you swallow a few gulps of water, the cold liquid soothing your insides. Before you know it, the glass is empty. He holds it up in front of you, “See? That felt nice, didn’t it?”

There it is, again. The playful glint in his eye and the sly tone of his voice. You ignore the burning tips of your ears and give him a half-nod, throwing yourself against the couch again with a relieved sigh. “Thanks, old man! What would I do without you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes as he stands up, “Ever so grateful, Y/N.”

“Y’know, Cheol and I were in the middle of a very mind-opening discussion about you.”

“Me?” his interest is piqued and he glances at Seungcheol, who he jostles lightly, “What’ve you been, shit-talking me?”

Seungcheol laughs as he throws the man off, “Wouldn’t you like to know? Anyway, if you want to go back to your game, I have a lot of anecdotes to share with Y/N. It’s our bonding time.”

And bond, you do. You spend the rest of the night talking to Seungcheol on Jeonghan’s couch, the owner of the place long forgotten as you go on to talk about everything else: college experiences, Seungcheol’s job (“So how rich are you exactly?” you grill him), and life interests.

“I can’t believe you like college so much! I hated it a lot back in my time.”

You snort, “You sound really old for someone who graduated two years ago. But I mean, each to their own. I prefer the comfort of the bubble here, you know. No real responsibility most of the time and you’re allowed to make some mistakes now and then. The real world? That’s like hell. I don’t think I’m ever going to feel like an adequate adult ever. Like, tax fraud is real, you know? And I never know which law I’m going to break? Don’t even get me started about the living situation.”

Seungcheol laughs throughout your troubled rant, “No, I get it. But don’t you feel excited about the independence you get to have? The freedom? And plus, if you get lucky with your job, working is actually very fulfilling.”

“Ugh,” you throw your head against the back of the couch again, “I don’t think I’ll ever feel fulfilled. Like ever. I feel too immature to be anything but a college student.”

He frowns on hearing that, confused because he’d never imagined of spending a whole night talking his heart out to a college student. But it happened because it was you, with your quick-witted responses and thoughtful questions. So, he’s fast to counter, “That’s not true–”

But his defense is cut short when Wonwoo approaches you, tapping at your shoulder with a smile. “Hey, you wanna head back?” You look up and are shocked to find the living room nearly emptied of its earlier occupants. When did everyone leave? “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your room. It’s getting late,” Wonwoo continues.

“Oh, damn, I didn’t even realize,” Seungcheol mutters, looking down at the watch on his wrist. “You guys sure you want to head back this late? You could just crash here. I would offer to drive but I drank.”

Wonwoo’s eyes trail to you, leaving the decision up to you. You mull it over, “I don’t know if Han’s gonna want a bunch of wasted kids at his place?”

As if you’d summoned him, Jeonghan appears beside Seungcheol with a yawn, “What’s this about me? Why’re you guys still up? Come on, let me show you to the empty rooms and please go to sleep before I have to use force.��

Wonwoo laughs, “He didn’t even leave us a choice,” and you watch as Jeonghan turns around, expecting you to follow him.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you turn to your best friend, “Please tell me you don’t still try to suffocate other people in their sleep?”

The boy contains a grin, “I don’t know. It depends on how annoying the person I’m with is.”

“You’re sleeping on the floor, asshole.”

–

Seungcheol has a problem.

He likes to think of himself as a reasonable adult, with the ability to make logical choices and admitting to his flaws here and there. But had he been reasonable enough, he wouldn’t be this hung up over someone he met twice over the course of two weeks. It’s ridiculous: the way his heartbeat’s racing when you tread down to breakfast the morning after the board game night turned bonding time.

He’s smiling his way through an excited “good morning!” before he can collect himself. You look tired, albeit a little bit lesser than usual, and your hair’s down in something of a mess. Seungcheol vaguely recognizes the faded gray tee you’re wearing, probably a donation of Jeonghan’s. “Morning,” you mumble to the breakfast table, everyone present now that you’re here.

Wonwoo snickers, “You look like shit, dude.” You glare at him as you’re reaching out for a fork, “Thanks, Wonwoo, I see that you’re as sweet as ever.”

Jeonghan lightly slaps Wonwoo’s arm, “Be nice to her. Who knows what a hungover Y/N might do?”

You turn to Jeonghan, finally eating the piece of watermelon that you’d been reaching for, “I’m flattered you’re concerned but I’ll have you know I’m not hungover.”

“That’s impressive,” Seungcheol chimes in and you smile at him, “See, I can’t believe this man I met last week understands me better than my best friend and my other friend.”

“Your other friend? That’s what I am to you???” Jeonghan gasps, hand clutching his chest dramatically and Seungcheol laughs louder than he ought to, but he can barely help it, he’s all giddy. All it took was a half-compliment from you.

So yeah, easy to say, Seungcheol has a problem and it has something to do with the way you lean into him when you ask him to pass a slice of toast.

Luckily for Seungcheol, you also have a problem, and it occurs when you declare you need to head back, hoping that they’d let you go alone but Jeonghan’s standing up instantly with a nod. You have a problem with the way he’s unbothered with his behavior, easily saying, “I’ll walk you,” as if your best friend of years wasn’t sitting right there.

You look to Wonwoo, hoping he’d feel the heat of your expression but he simply stretches his limbs out with a groan, “Think I’ll go take a nap before I leave.”

“Don’t you have a class at 12?” you nudge him subtly, trying to ignore Jeonghan as he stands at the table, fingers tapping at the chair that he’s behind.

“Eh, I’m ahead of the syllabus in the class and attendance is a joke.”

You sigh in defeat and meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he lifts his lips into a smile.

And the smile only leaves his lips once you’ve stepped out, clad in your clothes from last night again, groaning when the morning sunlight hits your eyes. “Ugh is right,” he mumbles beside you as he starts walking.

You catch up to him, hands stuffed down your pockets, and he asks, “You have class?”

“Not really. But I do have an upcoming paper I want to finish over the weekend so I don’t perish next week.”

Jeonghan chuckles as he glances at you, “Wow, you’re still this hard-working, huh? I thought your lifestyle would’ve worn you out by now.”

“You’re one to talk about detrimental lifestyles, Han,” you scoff, “Just because you hang out with us once a week doesn’t mean we don’t know you’re overworking yourself for the rest of it.”

He’s silent for a beat and then he exhales, “Huh. I don’t know. Feels like I have the other kids fooled. It’s always you, with your smart little head and truth bombs.”

You laugh, hitting his side with your shoulder, “I’m serious, Han. Take it slow, won’t you? You’re going to end up burning yourself out to death by the time you’re 30. And then whos’ going to host board game nights?”

Jeonghan laughs and he turns to look at you, walking pace slowing down as he trains his eyes on you. You raise your brows in confusion, a slight smile playing on your lips as you try to guess what he’s thinking this time.

“You and Cheol have been getting along really well, huh?”

You’re thrown off guard, not having imagined this to be his next words. You shrug. “Yeah, he’s really easy to talk to, especially given his… I don’t know, social status?”

“Social status?”

You cough in embarrassment over your words. What were you saying? “Don’t know. It’s just nice to meet someone whose hopes and dreams aren’t being crushed by student debt.”

Jeonghan’s silent again and now it’s your turn to frown because you’re wondering if you said the wrong thing. God, does he think you’re creepy for liking his childhood friend? Fucking hell.

“I’m glad,” he says but you can sense a strain in his voice, “I was worried he’d get bored to death when he came to visit me.”

“Ah, well. How long is he around?”

“He took a month off, I think? But he’s got it easy with his flexible hours, so really, it’s up to him when to leave.”

You nod a little, “Cool.” You exhale in relief, a little bit reassured now that Jeonghan was back to talking like his usual self. You’ve finally reached the steps to your dorm by the time the conversation fades away and he waves at you, “Better be on time tomorrow for my party. And don’t forget to bring the best gift of my life.”

You groan when he quotes your note on his coffee from a day ago, shrugging as you turn around to run up to your room and melt into your pillow. But you’ve made it to two steps up when he calls out for you again. You swerve around to face him with a questioning glance.

“Y/N, remember you can come to this old man if you ever need anything, okay? I’m here for you, always.”

??????????

–

Okay, let’s rewind a little.

You’ve known Jeonghan for two years now, enough time to fall for him. You argue it was inevitable because all your life, you’d only been disappointed in your love interests, who would either ghost you in the talking stage itself or break up a few months into the relationship. One time it was because you were too busy with your studies and the third and final time because well, you were apparently too aloof. Not loving enough.

Which is why when Jeonghan came into the picture, you found yourself changing ever so slightly. Not to say you weren’t still a little bit wary of people and took your time opening up, but you met a lot of friends through him and he taught you that trust and attention goes a long way in relationships. If only you could apply this newfound knowledge to new relationships.

You’d tried: Wonwoo had set you up with a friend from class, Mingyu, and while you’d been able to sit through the first date, by the end of the night, it was clear that both of you were more interested in sex. Which was fine. But then there was the guy who was a regular at your cafe who had given you his number and you’d ended up wondering why you were with him in the bathroom, staring at a text from Jeonghan.

So you were down pretty bad for him. And as Wonwoo had voiced multiple times before, the next move to make was to actually tell the man that you’d been suffering in your feelings for him. But every time the topic came around, you had only one answer prepared: he already knows. Or so you’re convinced.

You had good reason to think so. Once, the group of you had been playing an online game that involved picking red flags for other people’s ideal types and when it was time for others to pick some for you, all hell had broken loose. “I bet she likes bad guys who are emotionally unavailable,” Jun had said, quick to drag the flag that said emotional constipation on it. You had defended yourself quickly, “UH? No thanks, men with no emotional intelligence are a hard pass for me. I don’t want to feed into some idiot’s Oedipus complex just because I’m the mom friend.”

“The mom friend?” Wonwoo had questioned, “Please, Y/N, if anything, you’re the dead friend with a severe case of RBF. Jeonghan’s the mom friend.”

Jeonghan’s shrug had been followed by a hysterical Joshua going, “Wouldn’t that mean Y/N’s ideal type is Jeonghan? I mean, it makes a lot of sense, he’s mature and emotionally intelligent.”

You’d choked over your next words, cheeks burning, “No, that’s stupid. Don’t be weird.”

Yeah, very weak defense.

When Wonwoo brought up the fact that you’d refuted Joshua’s claims and that probably led Jeonghan to believe you weren’t into him, you simply told him to remind himself of what happened next. Dokyeom had laughed, “But you definitely go for older men? I can’t imagine any guy in college being too smart like that.”

You’d agreed in the end, his logic being pretty solid. You had also noticed the way Jeonghan excused himself to the kitchen with a lame excuse about bringing more snacks when there was an array of unopened chips still lying around.

“Okay, so that’s one example, from like two months ago,” Wonwoo argues as you roll around in bed to avoid his glare, “Do you really think he remembers that incident so well?”

“Two months ago was not that long ago. And it wasn’t just this once. I’m a mess around Jeonghan.”

“You’re a mess period,” Wonwoo casually declares and when you sit up with an unhinged jaw, he laughs, “No offense.”

“Whatever. I hate you. And I hate Jeonghan. I should just skip his birthday party or I’m just gonna make things worse for myself.”

“Right. And what about the Lego set you spent half your life savings on?”

You pause, heart skipping a beat when you remember the gift sitting on your desk, wrapped securely and the purchase of which you could only justify with the words: Yoon Jeonghan.

“God, I must be insane. Why did I even buy that for him? He’s gonna think I’m genuinely weird. Does he even want gifts? He’s turning 25 for god’s sake.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond so you can hear yourself and eventually, you do. Jeonghan himself had told you to be on time to his party with the gift alongside. You’re going to cry.

“You really think I should tell him?” you ask quietly.

Your best friend nods eagerly, patting your arm through the mess of your bedsheets, “Please. It’s high time. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Weird promise to make, but fine. I’ll do it.”

–

The weight of your promise settles into your veins when you’ve arrived at Jeonghan’s place, self-consciously straightening out non-existent wrinkles in your dress when he comes over to greet you and Wonwoo. It doesn’t leave when he grins at you, wider than usual, and it definitely only gets worse when he accepts your gift with a low whisper that he’ll be sure to open yours first.

You’re thankful for Seungcheol when he shows up next to you, dimples out as he compliments you in your dress and you return it with a shy smile. Half because you need a distraction and more because Seungcheol’s presence is calming, you follow him to the bar.

“How’s your night going so far?”

“It could be better,” you mumble, eyes searching for Jeonghan and settling when he doesn’t seem to be anywhere close, “A little bit nervous.”

“Nervous?” he asks you, sliding you a drink and you smile as you take a sip: Scotch and Soda.

“Hmm, it’s nothing honestly. A lot of work piling up as we speak,” you joke. Seungcheol’s frown melts away, “Ah, of course. Senior year must be crazy.”

The night picks it pace up thereon, with your nerves finding some peace in the buzz from alcohol and your cheeks only hurting the longer you talk to Seungcheol.There’s some dancing of course, here and there, but you find yourself avoiding Jeonghan actively, retracting from the floor whenever he’s close.

It helps that Seungcheol stays close so that you have an excuse to appear occupied and somewhere along in the night, you tell the man with a smile, “You’re really charming, you know, Cheol?”

He breaks out into that giggle of his, “You think so? I haven’t even pulled out all the stops yet?”

“Really?” you find yourself stepping closer, encouraged by how quickly his hands are at your waist, “What haven’t you done yet?”

A breathy hum leaves his lips at your provoking and you’re close enough to brush lips against Seungcheol when suddenly, you’re being pulled away. For a moment, you let out an annoyed groan, certain that the iron hold on your bicep is Wonwoo being stubborn again. So when you tilt your head and catch sight of Jeonghan’s black hair falling into his eyes, a glare in place, all words leave your system.

You’re aware he’s dragging you away and also that Seungcheol’s following, reaching for your hand with words leaving his mouth, but you can’t make anything out. The blood’s in your ears and your heart is in your throat. You can feel Jeonghan saying something at Seungcheol, who glances at you in doubt, and leaves.

By the time you've calmed down, you find yourself in Jeonghan’s room, door half closed.

“Jeonghan?” you question a little weakly as he finally lets go of your arm and sits on the bed, his head in his hands. Is he okay? you wonder, standing helplessly near the door. You call out his name again, “Han? Are you okay?”

You step closer to him but stop when he looks up, startled by the lack of humor in his expression. “What were you doing back there?”

“Um, talking to Cheol.”

“Talking?”

“Are you annoyed at me, right now? Or jealous? I can’t tell.”

Jeonghan goes silent again, gaze dropping to his feet. You’re feeling annoyed by the minute.

“You’re acting like an idiot, Y/N. You don’t know Seungcheol. And you’re drunk.”

There it was: that strict tone of his, that always left you feeling conflicted and hurt. Today you actually tell him about it, “I’m not a kid, Jeonghan, I know what I’m doing.”

He looks up at you when you say that, eyes wide. “I never said that. I’m just saying that you should be more careful.”

“I am being careful,” you retort, a hostile edge to your voice, “I don’t know why you do this.”

“I thought you liked me.”

The words stun you into silence and your ears ring as you freeze. Your eyes don’t leave Jeonghan’s form though, watching him, waiting for him to disappear into nothingness as if this was just a dream. How you wish it was.

But Jeonghan’s on his feet when he notices the horrified look on his face and it’s only when he starts to come closer that you reach for the door.

“No, Y/N, please let’s talk about it–” he grabs hold of you and you feel your vision go blurry with tears, your back hitting the wall when Jeonghan shuts the door behind you.

“I knew it,” you mumble out through tears, “You knew about my feelings?”

Jeonghan’s eyes find yours in the dim lighting of his bedroom and you shiver when his hand tightens around your wrist, “I’ve known for a while. But then you went around flirting with Cheol like it was nobody’s business and I…” he trails off, “I was jealous. And confused.”

You force yourself to breathe out, heart going wild in your chest because of course, Jeonghan’s not addressing the elephant in the room. “Well, I was going to confess to you today and get it out of the way. But there’s no need anymore, I guess?” You cringe at the way you can hear the quiver in your own voice, “Just let me go now?”

“Why?” he asks, “You haven’t even asked me if I like you back?”

You scoff, “God, Jeonghan, you make it sound like we’re in high school or something, all this ‘liking’ talk.” You try to sound stable, only to be contradicted by the tears that leave your eyes, “And I figured you didn’t return my feelings. Or you would’ve done something about it.”

There’s a pause then. A shift. Jeonghan’s grip on you loosens ever so lightly and you fear you’ve understood him too well. For once, you wish you weren’t right.

“You’re right,” Jeonghan breathes out as if on cue, but his grip is still unyielding to your dismay, “Well, I thought I didn’t like you. I mean, you’re really pretty and funny and being around doesn’t tire me out like it does with others, but… I just liked you as a friend.”

Your heart’s shriveling up at his words with uncertainty because he might be talking about your love for him being one-sided but it is also in the past tense… right?

“What are you trying to say, Jeonghan?”

He flinches, “Um, I’m sorry. I just– I’m so confused about my feelings, right now. God, I thought I was more mature than this.”

You can’t help the disdainful laugh that leaves your lips as you push him away, brushing your tears away with the back of your hand. “Look, Jeonghan, I’m sorry I don’t have the time to sit down and help you untangle your feelings… about me. It really hurts to hear you go on about this, honestly. I think I’m just going to leave. Happy birthday, I hope you like your gift.”

–

The night outside is much more welcoming to you now, your shoulders more relaxed than ever now that your stupid crush on Jeonghan’s out in the open for him. You hadn’t expected it to go down like this but well, at least you were right about him already knowing, you know?

Lighter than before, the drinks you’d chugged before to gather courage catch up to you in the moment when you nearly run into a pole on the street. You would have run into it if Seungcheol hadn’t swerved you out the way with a, “Look out!”

“Fuck,” you mumble when you’re steady on your feet, Seungcheol’s hand firm around yours, “Sorry. I was in my head.”

“I know you were but you gotta watch where you’re going, kid,” he scolds, “I don’t want to have to carry your unconscious body to your room.”

You roll your eyes, “What is it with everyone and calling me a kid tonight? So much for keeping up a track record for being reliable and responsible.”

“It’s not that you’re not those things, Y/N,” Seungcheol says, hand still on yours reassuringly, “It’s just that sometimes you’re… dense. And maybe even something of an idiot.”

“Ah! Excuse me!” you protest, “I am not an idiot. Say that to my grades.”

“An idiot as in someone who doesn’t see what’s right in front of them.”

That shuts you for good, then, and you stop walking with a sigh. “I don’t even know about that, anymore.”

Seungcheol watches as you slow down, tears behind your eyes and his heart hurts for you, thanks to his problem. When he’d found you storming out of Jeonghan’s room with fists wiping your tears away, he’d wrapped an arm around you immediately, listening as you quietly told him you needed to leave. He’d offered to walk you home and you’d watched him for a moment before nodding.

“Why are you doing this, Cheol? Shouldn’t you be back there, comforting Jeonghan?”

“See, there it is. The idiot side of you.”

You go silent again, looking down at the hand that was clutched in his a few moments ago.

“...you like me?”

“Bingo. Plus, I don’t think Jeonghan wants to hear from me tonight. Not after I almost kissed you in front of him.”

You let out a surprised sound, hand flying to your mouth when you recall the near-kiss, ears turning impossibly pink under the streetlights. “Fuck, I forgot that happened. I’m sorry? Or you’re welcome?”

“Nah, I can’t thank you till we actually seal the deal,” Seungcheol teases, stepping closer to you and dramatically ducking his head as if going in for a kiss. You push his shoulder away, “Fuck you, Seungcheol.”

“I mean, sure, if you want to!”

“Ugh!” you start walking with a pout on your face, “I hate the guts of the men in this place!”

“That’s not what your face said thirty minutes ago at the bar!”

“Go away, Cheol, or I’m reporting you to the campus authorities.”

“Aww, you called me Cheol even when we’re fighting. Aren’t you the sweetest?”

–

When Monday rolls around, you think you’ve got a good hold on your head this time, especially after a few grueling hours at your shift at the cafe. That is until you spot Jeonghan walking in, hair tied back in a half-ponytail and hands crossed across his white cardigan. The sight of him sends you into a frenzy and you debate your options as being between: ducking behind the counter and switching positions with Joshua, or otherwise, manning up and facing the aftermath of your actions.

You glance at Joshua’s back, his hands busy cleaning the espresso equipment and before you have a minute to ask him to switch, Jeonghan’s at the counter (where’s a line of customers when you need it?), calling you out. “Hey, Y/N, do you think we could talk for a minute?”

You look at him blankly, not expecting him to take the direct route after everything. But you malfunction a little and cut his advances off, “Welcome to Moon Coffee! What can I get started for you?” you ask loudly and then add in a softer voice, “Conversation with me is not on the menu.”

“Hm?” Jeonghan looks devastated at your cold response but his eyes search the menu board frantically anyway, “Uh, I guess I could get just an iced americano, then, please?”

You note that down with a half-smile, and almost go on to ask for a name for the order but decide against it, not wanting to stretch your pettiness limit for the day. “Alright, thank you for your order! Please feel free to take a seat while you wait.”

You relax when he nods with a hesitant smile and takes a seat, close to the window but close enough to the counter to hear his name being called out. You feel the pit in your stomach burn a little at how deflated his shoulders are and you wonder if you ought to drop the act; you’d been into the man for two years now. Right?

But before you can pursue this heart-wrenching line of thought, you’re distracted by the sound of the door opening and– great, it’s Seungcheol. By the surprised look he shoots Jeonghan’s sat figure, they hadn’t planned this… ambush, but you reign in your usual cordiality anyway as Seungcheol approaches you.

“Hey there, morning. How’ve you been?”

What did you have to do to have one customer who came in here for coffee?

“Good afternoon,” you correct him, pleased at the reversal of your first meeting with Seungcheol, who chuckles a little. “Welcome, what can we get you today?”

He pauses, casting a glance to Jeonghan over his shoulder, whose attention is on this interaction, legs crossed and brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, didn’t know he was in here. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“What are you apologizing for?” The question slips before you can remember to be professional and also, a little bit quieter because almost certain that Jeonghan’s heard you by the way he averts his eyes. “Um, I mean, sorry. I can recommend you a drink for the day or do you want to get your usual?”

Seungcheol mulls it over, “Hm, I’m fine with anything you choose for me.”

You pause before punching in the order for a hazelnut mocha, without a double-shot this time. He can deal with the sweetness for a day, you reckon. You glance at Joshua who’s still cleaning up before getting started on the orders because well, it’s a slow day. Or it’s supposed to be.

As you thank Seungcheol for his order and he’s about to step aside to wait, you add in a quick, “And next time, if you want to check up on me, do it when I’m not working.” He does nothing to hide the grin of acknowledgment that takes over his face, a sight that only darkens the storm known as Yoon Jeonghan brewing in the cafe.

You walk over to Joshua, “Dude! Hurry up, we have customers waiting.”

He turns to you slowly, wiping his hands off ever so slowly, even the smile on his face slow. “Don’t worry, it’s just Jeonghan. We know these guys. We can take our time.”

You narrow your eyes at him, wondering if Jeonghan put him up to this act, but don’t question it because even that would be admitting defeat. “Whatever. I’ll make the drinks if you’re going to be annoying. Where’s the syrup for the mocha again?”

Joshua slaps the hand that you’re using to reach for the syrup with a firm, “Uh-uh! Hands off, young lady. That hazelnut mocha is all mine to make. You can work on the iced americano if you really want to help out.”

You groan, throwing your hands up, “So you were slowing things down on purpose, you little bitch.”

“Hello? Please be mindful of the language you use around here. I can report you–”

“Yes, yes, of course, I will just shut up and make that americano so I don’t have to listen to your voice again.”

A few minutes later, you’re scribbling Jeonghan’s name onto the cup, proud with the quick work you’ve made of the drink and also thankful nobody was coming in right now. “Han–” you stop yourself just as the nickname slips your tongue, flinching when you remember you’re supposed to be acting stuck up right now.

You turn, hoping that Jeonghan hadn’t heard you but nevermind that because he’s at your side, quicker than he ought to be really (any other scenario, he would be declaring all kinds of knee problems), that sly grin plastered on his face.

“Hi there,” he greets you, “Called for me, did you?”

“...I did. An iced americano for Jeonghan.” You try hard to make your sentences brief but Jeonghan’s chuckling as he takes the drink from you– using both his hands so that you’re brushing against his. Classic middle school boy behavior.

If anything, this ordeal was making you question if the man was as mature as you’d believed. Either way, he thanks you with a smile and leaves promptly, leaving a very affronted Seungcheol in his wake. “Hey, I thought you said you were gonna wait for me!” he calls out after Jeonghan, who doesn’t respond as he slides out.

“A hazelnut mocha for Seung…Cheol?”

You glare at Joshua who frowns at the name as that was the first he’d heard of it, and the guy just shrugs as he puts the drink down. “Sorry about that. Joshua’s feeling rebellious this afternoon,” you tell a frowny Seungcheol (you are a minute away from admitting how cute he is when he’s upset), “Anyway, here’s your drink, Seungcheol. Have a good day!”

“Cheol!” you call out when you spot the brown head of hair outside the cafe when your shift ends. He’d texted you a while after he’d walked off with his drink in hand, pouting because you insisted on calling him Seungcheol.

meet me after your shift? his text reads.

do u even know when my shift ends dude

no and thats why im asking u. when does your shift end?

… u are insufferable.

insufferable enough to fall 4 u i guess

when are u going to stop holding your feelings for me over my head?

when you do something about them.

meet me at 6 outside the cafe.

Yeah, so you wouldn’t say you’re being your wisest self right now. To begin with, you should probably seek out Jeonghan and find closure of some sort. But something tells you to wait on him, wait till he’s ready to seek you out (no, coming up to you during your work shift did not count). Instead, you choose to pursue the… spark that you have with Seungcheol, his feelings for you aside. The night after Jeonghan’s party he’d made it clear that he didn’t really want anything serious, just to get to know you more while you were still around.

A little fooling around never hurt anyone, right?

So when Seungcheol whines out, “Oh, so I’m back to being Cheol now, huh?” you finally let out the laugh that you’d held back at work at his antics.

“Nobody ever told me you were such a pouty baby,” you tell him, eyes shameless trained on his pink lips.

“I don’t pout for anyone, baby,” Seungcheol shoots back, hand on your back as he leads you somewhere. You look at him in question. “What? We’re getting dinner.”

“I was not aware,” you reply, “But all right. Let’s do it.”

Dinner is comfortable. Which is more than you ask for on a date these days.

“Your dates have really been that bad, huh?” Seungcheol asks you. You shake your head, fork scraping some tiramisu onto it, “You can’t even imagine it, Cheol, it’s hell out there. I’m lucky if the guy pays for the dinner so I don’t have to work an extra shift to make up for it.”

He laughs and you savor the sight, because hanging out with this often hadn’t meant you had become indifferent to his looks. If anything, it was the other way around.

“Thanks for dinner,” you tell him later as he sneaks his hand into yours. You allow yourself to feel guilty for indulging him like this but then he squeezes your hand, “Anything for you, m’lady.”

Later that night, you invite him to your room. “It’s not much,” you add to the invitation, “But you know, I do happen to have some wine in my fridge that Wonwoo forgot to pick up. And my bed’s pretty cozy to watch movies in.”

Seungcheol is breathless by the time you’re in your room, not only because of the trek up the stairs but also the fact that you’d held his hand in yours the whole way up. “Wow, it sure is cold in here,” he comments as you turn the lights. It is the textbook college room, albeit a little bigger since you’re in a single.

You cough, “Um, sorry about that. Let me turn on the heater. And you can sit on my bed…” you pause when you remember the mess you’d left on your mattress this morning, in a hurry to make it to your shift but nevertheless, insistent on putting together a fit.

You sweep up the pile of discarded clothes from your bed and onto an already burdened chair, making a show out of it. You dust your hands off with a smile at Seungcheol who’s been watching with a hand on his hip. “Change your mind about me yet?” you question, teasingly.

He rolls his eyes as he walks closer to you, effectively bumping you onto your bed, the new angle forcing you to look up at him. He kneels in front of you, his smile turning loving as he takes your face into his hands. “Not a chance,” and then he leans in until his warm lips are on yours, the heater whirring irrelevant now that heat’s rushing up to your temples instantly.

You taste him and then pull away, “Mhm. Not so fast, you sly little man. I promised you wine and a movie in my bed. And I,” you say as you crouch in front of your fridge, “am a woman of my word.” You shake the cold bottle of red wine at him and he grins.

An hour later, you’re curled around Seungcheol, glasses of wine long consumed and movie long forgotten in favor of cuddling. You stare at him and then when he smiles shyly, you finger one of his dimples, “Hey. You sure you’re not serious about me? Because I’m…” you hate the way you trail off, the very thought of Jeonghan derailing any sense of coherence you’ve ever had.

“I know,” Seungcheol’s hand comes to your wrist, “I knew I didn’t stand a chance against Jeonghan since I saw you guys fight at the cafe that day. You look at him like he has all the answers.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you brush off, not completely refuting him. “But if you knew, why’d you stick around and… I don’t know, flirt with me?”

Seungcheol laughs into your neck, “Call it a bad habit of mine.” His hands play with your hair now, brushing it away from your face, “I see a pretty girl and I have to charm her.”

You drop your head into his chest with a groan, “Stop! You sound so creepy. Like a predator.”

“Hey!” he protests, his chuckles vibrating through you, “You’re the one who called me charming the other day!”

“Hmm. I guess I did.”

His hands slowly pry you away from his chest and to his face, lips pressing against yours. You smile a little and then open up for him, shifting until you’re situated on top of him. You close your eyes, surrendering yourself to the kiss and – “Shit, you’re a good kisser.” The man underneath you moves you closer with a pleased smirk, voice smug when his lips trail down your neck, “That’s not the only thing I’m good at.”

–

“Sex with older men really is different, huh?”

You gasp at Wonwoo’s vulgar words, slapping his arm mercilessly making him jump away from you. “Dude! Mind keeping it down? We’re in the library, not your mom’s house.”

“Ha! Jokes on you, I wouldn’t be making dirty jokes in my mom’s house because Jeonghan is my mom away from home and he would really kick my ass if he heard me talk about you and Seungchel fucking–”

Another slap on the arm and Wonwoo shuts up, groaning in pain. You grimace when you notice a few heads turning your way at the commotion, and bow in apology. When they’re looking away, you glower at Wonwoo, “Seriously, man, what are you up to? Drop the horny teenager act for once so we can focus on the problem at hand.”

“Judging from the tone of your voice, I’m guessing that you’re not talking about the problem of calculus in front of us, but rather, the problem of… life?”

You stare at Wonwoo blankly, “I’m so glad you find this entertaining.” As you’re about to continue giving him a piece of your mind, your phone buzzes, cutting you off much to Wonwoo’s relief, who sneaks a look over your shoulder anyway.

cheol: rate last night on a scale of ‘okay’ to ‘let's meet up again tonight’?

You scoff at the audacity and Wonwoo’s already clinging onto this new piece of evidence. “Oh, so what was that about this being a one-time thing? Next thing I know you’re moving in with him when you graduate.”

You slam your phone face down, “Listen, I know you think this is a joke but it’s not. I’m not going to sleep with Cheol again because that’s obviously the right thing to do. But as for Jeonghan, well, it’s been radio silence from him all week.”

“And since when have you let Jeonghan take the lead on your relationship with him? You know he’s a working man so I’m not surprised he’s not texting you at noon on a Wednesday.”

You glare at Wonwoo, “Seungcheol is also very much a working man? I don’t see your point. And also, I don’t know when this became a competition between the two?”

“Since you confessed to one and then slept with the other?”

You exhale heavily, unable to shoot him down because he was at least a little bit correct. Instead you heave your head into your arms. “Maybe I should just fake my death and move away.”

“You’ll give up your dreams of graduation over a stupid love triangle, consisting purely of men?”

“Shit. You’re right. That’s not happening,” you look up, “Jeon Wonwoo, what would I do if you weren’t by my side bringing me to my senses? You’re the best friend I ever had.”

“Actually, your use of ‘friend’ is very offensive to me,” he complains, fisting his palm dramatically, “I consider myself one of the girls. Or even better, your guardian. Refer to me as Your Highness exclusively or I will not listen.”

You stand up with a screech of your chair, “Okay, that was the last of your reasonable thinking. I’m going to go to my shift and work until I can no longer think or pine.”

“Great plan, young one!”

“Touch grass while I’m gone and you might have hope yet.”

–

“Look, I really don’t think we should be doing this anymore.”

Seungcheol laughs, eyes searching your face for signs of humor. You flash him a grimace of seriousness and doom. He deflates. “I saw this coming. Should’ve known you would only ever ask me out to a fancy restaurant for dinner to break up with me.”

You flick his forehead, “Break up? Don’t call it that. It gives people the wrong idea.”

“Interesting, Y/N L/N admits to caring about whether or not people get the wrong idea about us. Very interesting,” he comments, not at all sneaky with the way his arm snakes around you, “Anyway, you want me to pay for dinner and what, drag my sorry ass back to Jeonghan’s place?”

You stiffen at the mention of Jeonghan and then sigh, the following conversation almost inevitable given your current situation. “So speaking of Jeonghan, has he been talking?”

“Um, yeah, he sure has been opening his mouth and saying words.”

“Fuck you, I meant as in, about me? Has he said anything?”

“Not in specific. Although he did inquire if I had slept over at your place two nights ago and when I said yes, he threw a slice of half-eaten apple in my face. Since then whenever I see him, I duck.”

“That’s very funny.”

“Don’t worry, I made sure to tell him how hopelessly in love with him you are–”

“That was not needed.”

“–And how you accidentally moaned his name on my cock.”

You glare at him, “What about those statements made you think they were okay to voice out loud, not only once but twice?”

As Seungcheol comes up with a witty defense for his lapse in judgment, your phone buzzes next to your thigh and the name that pops up has you zoning everything out instantly.

han: hey, can we talk?

You look away from the screen and breathe out, “And that makes two of us dragging our sorry asses to Jeonghan’s place.”

When you knock on his door, the last thing you expect to see is a red-eyed, very sniffly Jeonghan. Heck, you hadn’t ever even come close to imagining the heartbroken look on Jeonghan’s face, his eyes downcast when you visibly look taken aback at his state.

“Han?”

“Hey,” his voice is hoarse and good lord, you can’t stand this. “Let’s sit in the living room. I was going to go grab some water anyway.”

You follow him speechlessly, watching the way his hands disappear into the sleeves of the black sweatshirt that hangs loose around his frame. You keep watching when he reappears, and it’s when he sits down quietly, fingers whitening around the glass of iced water in hands that you lose it.

“Talk to me, Han. Are you okay?” you breathe deeply to contain the multitude of concerned questions that threaten to leave your system. For one, you didn't know how to interpret the crestfallen expression he held up when he met your eyes. While someone like Wonwoo (aka a naive little kid) would argue that the only reasonable explanation for it would be that he was devastated that you’d been avoiding him the past week. But knowing what you did about him, you couldn’t let go of the possibility that he was just mourning the impending loss of a friend, i.e. you, when he breaks it to you that he doesn’t like you back.

Jeonghan senses you’re in your head when you’ve been staring at him for a moment too long, mouth agape, so he moves closer, taking the water out of your hands and placing it next to his emptied glass.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Fuck. An apology?

You stammer, “S-Sorry? Why?”

“I’m sorry I called you an idiot the other day. You’re the farthest thing from an idiot– and you’re definitely not a kid. I’m so sorry that I made you feel like that. I just… I’ve been thinking about us, and I realized that somewhere along the way, I became really over-protective of you. I started treating you like you were fragile or something, and I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m listening,” you tell him, frown letting up now that he’s finally speaking up.

“And I’m sorry for being a cowardly little bitch about my feelings for you,” he mumbles, eyes dropping to your lap where your fingers play with the fabric of your shirt uneasily. He stops your fiddling, his hands coming to envelope both of yours. “I’m the idiot for thinking I could be anything other than in love with you.”

“Huh,” you exhale again, biting your lip to hold the smile that threatens to spill.

“And finally, I’m sorry for not doing anything about it when I knew your feelings were mutual. As you know, I’m getting old and–”

You stop any further stupidity from leaving his lips by – you guessed it – by pressing your lips against them. He lets out a surprised gasp and your smile finally turns into a giggle when his hands tighten around yours in your lap.

You pull away, only to detach your hands so you can bury them in his hair instead and Jeonghan smiles at you, his eyes crescents as they watch you lovingly and you think: the pain was worth it.

Jeonghan’s smile widens when he feels you thumb at his skin, tenderly tracing his eye-bags.��

“You look terrible, Han, I’m sorry,” you mutter, kissing his cheeks and then his forehead. He’s already mellowing under your hold and he hums, low, “You should be. I went to hell and back when Seungcheol announced he slept with you. I mean, what were you thinking?”

You break, guiltily looking away. “That was not my smartest moment but I was also very distraught about my relationship with a certain someone who wouldn’t contact me outside of my working hours.”

“You and your stubborn need to remain professional. Y/N, it’s a campus cafe, I don’t think anyone’s going to care if you break your act once in a while. I don’t know, if I don’t get a kiss the next time I visit you– I might just rethink this.”

You scoff in disbelief, “You’re a real pain in the ass, Jeonghan. Maybe I’ll just go back to my room and cry myself to sleep.” But as soon as you make moves to stand up, Jeonghan’s bringing you back to sit, taking the chance to pull you closer into a hug. “You will do no such thing.”

You freeze when you feel his nose settle into your shoulder, warm breaths relaxing when your hands reclaim their place in his hair. “I love you, Y/N.”

A beat passes and with a kiss to his head, you return, “I probably love you more, old man.”

“If we’re going to date, that nickname has got to go!”

“What? You’re the one who was complaining about your knee problems last week. It’s fine, I can add this relationship to my list of community service activities.”

Jeonghan pulls away, standing up abruptly and jerking you upward as well. Your smile falters but then, he’s steering you to his bedroom, throwing the door shut with a grunt. You side-eye him, “What’s up–” He cuts you off, lips hot against yours.

A few minutes later, when his tongue finally lets up, he mutters, “I just remembered that you kissed Seungcheol with this mouth. I’ve gotta do everything I can to erase that memory.”

“I can’t tell if you want me to forget… or yourself.”

“Shh, I bet he couldn’t even– Wait, why aren’t you wearing a bra? Don’t tell me you were–!”

“You sure love asking questions, old man,” you whine and before Jeonghan can question you further, you take ahold of his hand, sliding it over your stomach and down the waistband of your jeans, the space tight and hot but not as hot as the groan Jeonghan lets out when he feels you. “Holy fuck, you’re wet.”

You grin when he falls to his knees, your jeans unbuttoned and pulled down in next to no time. “There’s more where that came from,” you mumble before he’s between your thighs, ripping out scream after scream from your throat.

–

Genuinely and honestly, if you’d foreseen waking up in Jeonghan’s bed, his hair a mess from last night but face comfortably snuggled in your arm– you would’ve been less mean to Wonwoo. Because it turns out that his voice (of reason? or of deviance? you would never figure it out) in your head had been right: Jeonghan did return your feelings all those times you thought he might.

He tells you all about it when you’ve collapsed later that night, replacing the curses on your lips with dampness in your eyes because of how vulnerable he is, pouring his heart out to you like this.

Propped up on an elbow, he played with your hand, “I remember when you first came over with Wonwoo. I thought I’d met myself, but younger and prettier and sillier.”

“I hate it when you combine insults with compliments so I can’t attack you.”

“I learnt that from you, silly,” he kisses your nose but continues, “But honestly, the more we talked, the more I realized how different you are from me. I mean, sure, are you tired out of your mind half the time like me? Yeah. But you were so observant and so keen on getting to know people. It’s hard to come across people who are invested in friendships for more than just small talk and someone to have meals with.”

But just as he’s getting deep on you, he adds, “Plus, you smell a whole lot better than anyone else. I’d go crazy sitting next to you, especially because you just love to throw yourself at people in laughter.”

“Not that I’m complaining–” he stops your protests quickly, “I swear my heart would skip a beat everytime you laughed at something I said. And then the time we were talking about ideal types and you got all flustered over everyone teasing you about me? Dude, I had to run to the kitchen before I could do something rash. Like kissing you in front of everyone. Or worse, bride-style carrying you into my room so I could enjoy the adorably lovesick look on your face.”

You groan into his pillow, “Stooop. This is just embarrassing for me. It’s not like I was trying to be obvious.”

“I know, baby,” he coos, gentle hands prying you away from the pillow, “But you know, you have the same look on your face right now.” He laughs, kissing the pout off your lips with a sweet, “For what it’s worth, I was yours for a long time. Just took a minute for me to realize it.”

You huff but smile despite it and pull him closer, “I’m glad. Now hold me to sleep or I’m gonna be sad.”

Another laugh reverberates through the two of you when he slides down, pulling the sheets closer over you, and pats your back as you settle into him with a satisfied sigh. “Sleep well, my love.”

–

“And when I’m gone, please don’t stop eating breakfast in the morning. I know you think that it’s consequential to your life completely,” Seungcheol pauses for dramatic effect, “but it’s important. It could be the difference between living 20 less years or 50 more.”

“How scientifically true is that?” you mumble to Jeonghan under your breath, who being the devious little brat he is voices your concern, earning you a look from Seungcheol.

“Whatever, I knew my words were undervalued in this household ever since you guys started dating and refused to keep it down at night. Like, it’s not that hard, right?”

You punch Jeonghan’s arm to both keep him from telling the dick joke he’s about to say and also, to show Seungcheol that you wanted no part in this. “I told this guy to keep you in mind but that just made him mad which in turn led to… screaming. Sorry.”

Seungcheol sighs as he glances at his watch, “Okay, okay. I have to get going now so bring in whatever last-minute reconciliations you two have for me.”

Jeonghan steps forward and hugs the man, surprising both the latter and you. But you watch with a pleased smile playing on your lips, relieved that their friendship still seemed to go strong, bumps and all. When it’s your turn to hug Seungcheol, you scoff at the hesitant look he casts at your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his middle.

“Thanks for everything, Cheol. Keep in touch. And do something about this second-lead syndrome of yours. I better catch you in a happily stable relationship of your own next time around.”

Seungcheol chuckles quietly, waiting for you to pull away to say, “If that’s an order from the main female lead, then I guess I have no choice, do I? Unless,” his eyes mischievously stray to Jeonghan who already knows what’s coming next, “the male lead fucks up and leaves a certain pretty girl single, huh?”

You don’t have time to decipher if that’s a threat wrapped up in a punchline because Jeonghan’s arm’s around your shoulder, moving you away and besides you, he says, “You’ll be waiting all your life if you wait on me to fuck this up. Bye, Cheol, I can see that your Uber just pulled up.”

“Ha! Good one. Alright, this is goodbye for now. See y’all on my feed. Or it might be better if I don’t. Anyway, bye and don’t kill anyone.”

With Seungcheol gone, you look up at Jeonghan with a smug smirk, “Oh, so you plan on sticking around with me forever? That’s a long time, you know.”

Your boyfriend chuckles, his eyes twinkling, “Please, if I had the patience to watch you hug Seungcheol right in front of my eyes, being with you forever will be a breeze in the park. So yes, I plan to stick to you forever, like superglue.”

“Gross, you couldn’t say something romantic like candy or syrup?”

“Sorry, babe, but I was just distracted by how all mine you are that I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“Never mind, I think it’s worse when you’re all cheesy. Go back to being gross?”

“I love you. Now, come here so I can kiss every single surface of your face. And then we can go on a walk and tell everyone who told me to give up to suck it.”

You lose balance when the laughter finally escapes your mouth but thankfully, Jeonghan’s arms are around you, promising and playful when you meet his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. I love you. So I guess we can do all the weird annoying stuff you want to do for now.”

Despite your banter though, the two of you are so happy together that you’re shocked by the picture of you with Jeonghan that Wonwoo Airdrops, after your walk. You have the dopiest smile on your face and Jeonghan’s looking at you with a cheesy grin. You hate to admit it but you do look like an “old married couple” like Wonwoo’s text teases. But for once, you give in, snuggling closer to Jeonghan’s body because well, yeah, you did plan to stick to him. Like superglue.

–

#once again apologizing #jeonghan x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt fluff #svt angst #svt x reader #yoon jeonghan #choi seungcheol #seventeen smut #jeonghan angst #seungcheol angst

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princessbellecerise · 10 months

Text

Worth The Wait

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | Jace spends your entire courtship denying you the pleasures of what you really want. Now that it’s the night of your wedding, he has every intention of making it worth the wait

warnings | husband!jace, first time wedding smut, creampie

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys never let himself have his way with you until your wedding night.

Before that, he’d always cut you off, not letting anything get too far because of his honor. He was so righteous that it nearly made you blind with rage every time he stopped you when you were right there, so close to having him inside of you but stopped every time by his last minute morals.

Jacaerys was a good man and you suffered for it; always being left aching and denied what you truly wanted. But of course, as heir, he knew he couldn’t touch you until your wedding night. The gods, his mother and his reputation frowned upon it. Jacaerys would do not such thing as dishonor you, so he waited.

And waited.

And suddenly, it was the night of your wedding feast and Jacaerys could not bring himself to think of anything expect for you. How good you looked in your gown, the lights seemingly adorning your face.

Marriage looked so good on you that he can hardly contain himself. He grows desperate with each passing minute, strained smiles and polite yet brief words being exchanged with everyone that approaches to congratulate him. A few people even make him laugh and like the future king he is, Jace does not show his true emotions.

He does not show how desperately he wants you, his wife whom he’s denied pleasure so much. He keeps his composure but Jacaerys is suffering, agonizingly and and eagerly awaiting for the sun to go down.

Of course, you take note of his angst and worry that something is wrong with your husband. Or worse—that he’s unhappy to the point where he doesn’t even want to eat.

He hasn’t touched his food since it was brought out and worriedly, you lean over to ask him about his lack of appetite.

You have to admit; you weren’t expecting the response that you got. Words from his mouth that send pure heat through your body and made you feel hot from your heels to your head.

“I am fine, my princess. I am simply not hungry because it is not roast I wish to feast upon right now,” He tells you, and suddenly everything makes since.

Why he’s so tense. Why Jacaerys looks like he cannot wait to leave this damn dinner. And suddenly, your mouth drops into an ‘o’ shape. A smirk slowly adorning your lips because now Jacaerys knows what it feels like. He knows what it’s like to be left waiting, wondering and lusting for the opportunity.

In a way, it sort of makes you satisfied that he has to wait.

Only when the sun goes down is it proper for him to finally announce your fair wells, grabbing your hand and all but dragging you towards your now shared chambers.

Everyone is looking at the two of you, cheering and congratulating you both as you walk though the congregational of people. Friends and allies alike clap Jace on the back and wink at you as your grip on his hand tightens.

With a strained smile, Jace politely nods back but does not entertain their jesting. You’re grateful, because even though what you’re about to do is an open secret, it’s still embarrassing.

Thankfully, there would be no bedding ceremony, Jacaerys way too much of a gentleman to let that happen to you. Instead, it’s only you and him and the flames of desire that grow between the two of you as you walk through the halls.

It burns—it really does. The heat and the longing between you two is almost unbearable as you finally make it behind closed doors, barely locking it before Jacaerys grabs you and jumps you.

You’re surprised, yelping when your husband scoops you into his arms and kisses you without so much as a word.

His hot mouth covers your groans and while it is unexpected, you welcome it.

His kiss is fierce, so passionate that it nearly knocks you to your knees. Jacaerys has clearly grown desperate during the hours of waiting, the future king nearly rabid as he pokes and prods at your clothing.

Never have you seen him in such a way, so ungentleman-like as he drags you to the floor. You don’t even make it to the bed because Jacaerys is so needy, getting you naked in no time while also landing sloppy kisses on your neck.

It ignites an unimaginable fire in your belly to see him so frantic for you. To see him finally give in and want to fuck you like you’ve previously begged for.

Now that his honor isn’t at stake, Jacaerys is not holding back. He’s adamant about what he wants and he wants you; all of you.

You two lay bare before one another and then it’s time; Jace settling himself at your hole and running his cock head against your slick folds.

He’s done this many times before. You’ve been here before, and every time this was the moment that Jace pulled back. Just when he was about to push into you, his sense would smack him in the face and off of you he went.

This was always the stage of stopping but this time there was no return. You found yourself almost opening your mouth, so used to having to beg him for friction.

“Just the tip, at least the tip. Please Jace.” Is what you used to beg for.

Now, it shocks you when he says nothing. Does nothing to pull away, only kisses you so hard it makes your head spin and your lips throb from where he cut it earlier.

He’s so feverish that it hurts, hurts so good to know he finally desires you. To know that this will be the time he doesn’t stop, the time you don’t beg.

Now, it is him that is at his wits ends as he lays his forehead against yours. When it’s time to push himself in, Jacaerys finally speaks. Brown eyes blown from desire, the future king is barely able to hold himself back, but he does.

“Do you wish for me to warm you first, sweetling?” He asks, and it’s not so much as an offer as it is his morals shining through. Jace wants absolutely nothing except to fuck you into oblivion, but he’s kind.

He asks before taking your maidenhood even though he’s shaking at your entrance, will power faltering the longer you contemplate your answer.

He almost cries when he sees you shake your head, breathing a sigh of relief and pursing his pink lips together while nodding. He understands.

“They’ll be time for that later,” You tell him and he’s relived. Back to the mission of penetrating you before you suddenly get an idea, finding yourself stopping him one last time just to be cruel.

“Wait!” You take the role of Jacaerys, and he you as he stares at you with wide eyes. Hungry eyes that are confused and frustrated as you look at him.

“What is it, my love?” He asks slowly.

A crude smirk falls upon your lips. “Maybe we should wait,” You tell him bashfully, loving the way he reels back. The bewilderment in his expression is finally enough to satisfy your revenge for a lifetime, and you want to laugh when he finally feels what you feel. “Maybe we shouldn’t…dishonor ourselves this way. We should wait for marriage, you know? That way—”

You gasp to the high heavens as your cruel joke is suddenly cut off by Jacaerys pushing himself inside of you. In no mood to jest, he takes what he wants and finally sheaths himself in your core.

You were being cruel to him, he justifies. Jacaerys is a kind man that does not take lightly to cruelty.

You moan out as pain briefly graces your lower regions and stare at your husband in shock as his face shows all seriousness. Out of all things, you weren’t expecting for him to do that. To take control in way he’d never shown before.

“Do not jest with me, wife. Not tonight of all nights. Do not deny your husband such pleasure,” He growls in your ear as he finally stills.

Still stunned, you simply lay there and relish in the feeling of him on top of you. Seven hells, you have half a mind to cry with relief but you don’t want him to mistake yours tears for pain. It hurts, yes, but not in a way that makes you want him to stop.

In fact, it’s quite the opposite and though you told yourself no more begging, you find that you do it anyways as you wrap your legs around him. Pulling him close so that Jacaerys is really and truly inside of you, just as your husband should be.

“I’m sorry, my love. Please forgive me—I won’t do it again,” You whisper desperately, desire clawing at your every atom. You need him to move, you need him to finish what he started; to complete what you’ve craved for what seems like forever now.

It would only be fair after denying you that pleasure for half a year.

“Good.”

Jacaerys growls this and that is when you feel him start to move, his hips snapping into yours as his lips find your own. You moan as his cock thrusts his way through your unexplored folds, reaching depths and pleasures you never thought possible.

You clench around him and move your lips, loving the way he groans and pants into your mouth. Your legs still find themselves wrapped around his waist, enticing your love to go deeper, faster, harder.

You need him and he needs you.

His strokes are those of desperation, chasing every feeling he had ran away from you. Chasing those previous nights where he had denied you his cock, denied himself of the pelasure that he was feeling right now.

The feeling of you wrapped around his cock was one that was indescribable. If anyone ever asked, which he doubted they would (expect for Luke, maybe) then Jacaerys would simply have to stare at them, mouth open like it was now.

For what could he say, other than his beloved was inciting things from his body that he had never felt before? Providing him with pleasure and ecstasy that took his breath away more than his first dragon ride.

These feelings lifted him higher than that, higher than Vermax souring through the clouds and he screwed his eyes shut as he saviored the flavors of your cunt.

Soft and wet and warm and his prison that he’d gladly rot away in. If Jacaerys could spend the rest of his days inside of you he’d be a happy man. He’d give up the iron throne, burn the skies and every village if it meant feeling your warmth.

He’d do it all.

He would give you his all, steadying his pace so that you might taste the same drops of pleasure he was experiencing. So that you might throw your head back in ecstasy like he did, identical moans leaving the two of you as you came undone.

For you, it came in the form of clenching down on Jace’s cock, crying out as your peak hit you violently. You panted, biting into his shoulder as he did yours and rocking your hips to the sensation.

For Jacaerys, it came in the form of hot spurts, coating your walls with his seed like a good husband should. Like a good king, who would surely need to provide heirs one day.

You were all too willing to compete this task, sucking him in, milking him of his children until Jacaerys had nothing left to give. Until he was an empty shell above you, eyes closed and utterly exhausted as he rolled to the floor beside you.

It took a few minutes for anything expect for your heavy panting to fill the room. Both you and Jace were dazed, still out of it and not quite sure what had just happened. Still experiencing the bliss from your first night of marriage. One, that if anything, indicated that a good marriage was on the horizon indeed.

For you, the night had been everything you hoped for and more. Worth the wait, which you were sure that Jacaerys appreciated now that his honor and his cock reminded satified.

Perhaps the two could co-exist now, you concluded. Staring at your beloved as he turned to face you too, a small smile peaking at his lips.

“Iksin ziry worth se umbagon syt ao pār, ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asked, as shallow breaths overtook his body still. (Was it worth the wait then, my love?)

You grinned as you looked into his brown eyes and eagerly nodded, reminiscing on your peak that had happened only minutes before.

You were still dazed, still hazy but your mind was clear enough that you knew your answer before you uttered it. You loved this man, and you knew that you had made the right decision.

“Kessa, īles worth se umbagon indeed, ñuha jorrāelagon,” You promised softly, using the High Valerian he had taught you. Gazing into his eyes that had gone soft for you. That held love for you and silently promised you that this was it, that Jacaerys would always be worthy of anything till the end of your days. “Kesā va moriot sagon worth ziry naejot nyke.” (Yes, it was worth the wait indeed, my love. You will always be worth it to me.)

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon

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xo-cori · 7 months

Text

it’s all a game to me anyway

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

summary: pining after athletes is never a good idea. that is, unless you’re good at getting your way.

warnings: smut (MDNI), hockey!abby, reader is lowkey a womanizer, choking, the knee thing™, thigh riding, power dynamic switcharoo, no aftercare but in a hot way

a/n: inspired by “music to watch boys to” by mother lana 🙏 if you’re a buff girl named abby anderson who plays hockey pls hit my line immediately. also read pt 2 here!!

“How’d you get in here?”

In any other scenario, her tone would’ve offended you. At least, you would’ve pretended it did. But this is a very special case; you’ve got Abby exactly where you want her, only because you know she feels the same.

It all started a few months ago during your first week of college. You’d developed a reputation around the school pretty quickly– you tend to pick girls up for a night just to leave them in the dust. It’s fulfilling, until it isn’t. Until you move onto the next, getting better and better at pretending you’d fallen head over heels just to take someone to bed. Now, just starting your second semester, you’d climbed up the social hierarchy pretty quickly, and you’ve been eyeing somebody in specific. After playing your tricks with half of her teammates, of course.

You stand in the empty locker room with her as she packs her bag. You can tell she’s fresh out of the shower and had just finished getting changed. You wonder if you could’ve sped this up by walking in a bit earlier.

“I snuck in,” you shrug. “Just noticed you never came out with your team– I wanted to say how sorry I am that you guys lost. You’re the captain, right? You could spread the message.”

Her eyes meet yours and she’s obviously unimpressed. “I could, but I won’t.” She quips.

You tilt your head. “How come?”

“Well, you’re… acquainted with most of them. Tell them yourself.” She says, setting her bag down on one of the benches so that she can face you. Her dirty blonde hair is still damp and, now that you think about it, this is the first time you’ve seen it out of that signature braid she always wears– and you’ve seen a lot of her.

It’s become a habit to show up to every game, every practice, intently watching her command her team and skate around on that ice like her life depends on it. You don’t know how hockey works. You honestly couldn’t care less, but you have more than enough reason to watch it, and you have your music to keep you company.

“Someone’s jealous.” You observe, taking a long step towards her.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t make any attempt to create some distance. She just raises her eyebrows at you. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You think I’m jealous?”

“Sounds like it.” You wrestle with a smile, not wanting to blow your one chance at this by pissing her off too much.

“Oh, really? And what’s there to be jealous of?” Abby questions, even if she has a pretty good idea what the answer will be.

“The winning team,” you take another step, “and… y’know, the fact that half of your team has had a turn with me. Not you, though. Not yet.”

The way her jaw tenses up makes your chest swell with pride. “Not yet?” She repeats. “You think I want a turn?”

“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t look at me the way you do. You like it when I watch you all practice, because you know I’m just watching you.” You tell her.

Abby knows there’s no way to argue with that, no matter how much she’d like to. She looks for you in the bleachers and, when she finds you, subconsciously makes a point of holding that eye contact. You always have both of your headphones in. You’re always looking her up and down, licking your lips like she’s nothing but a freshly prepared meal to you. Honestly, it makes her confidence skyrocket. She’s secure in her capabilities, but a little boost never hurt.

“Athletes like being watched. That’s kinda the whole point,” she replies, “doesn’t make you special.”

“But I am special.” Another step forward. At this point, you have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact. “I’ve gotta be. You know what I want, but you’ve never told your coach to make me fuck off.”

That’s true, too, Abby thinks. She’d never admit it, though. “Maybe I should.” She says.

“You won’t.” You grin. “Not until you get your turn, at least.”

She’s the one to take the next step forward. You can feel her breath fan across your face. She doesn’t trust her voice to speak; her hard exterior slowly crumbling under the heat of your gaze.

So, she grabs you by the throat and leans down to catch your lips between hers.

You gasp, shocked that she’d be the one to take the initiative. You weren’t even sure if she liked girls, and here she was, already shoving her tongue past your lips, which you happily accepted. Her chest presses to yours as she backs you up against one of the lockers. You opt to ignore how hard your head hit the metal, given how preoccupied you are by the way she grabs both of your wrists in her other hand and holds them above your head.

Then, she pulls back to look at you. You aren’t the one in control and you know it. Oddly enough, you kind of like it.

“Is this what you wanted?” Abby rasps, shoving her knee between your thighs and pressing up right where you needed her, causing you to let out a pleased sigh.

“Yeah,” you nod, “just didn’t think you’d be so easy.”

She finds it ironic that you of all people would call her easy, but she decides not to linger on it. Instead, she slightly tightens her grip around your throat, reveling in the way she only needs one hand to make your breath stutter. The lack of air gives you a head-rush and you find yourself grinding down onto her thigh. Normally, you wouldn’t let yourself be reduced to a submissive mess, but you’d been pining after her for months. You’d do whatever it takes to get her head between your legs.

Abby kisses you once more, totally ignoring the way your hands struggle against her grip only because you kiss her back with a fervor she’s never felt.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, “fucking yourself on my leg like a dog.”

You whine at the lack of her lips on yours. “I want you so bad, Abby– been waiting for this forever.” You admit, which is just another ego boost for her.

She lets go of your wrists and pulls your arms to wrap around her shoulders. “Go ahead, then. Make yourself cum like this.”

You’re taken aback by the demand. Is that even possible? Hell, just to impress her, you’ll make it possible.

You slowly get yourself into a rhythm, rolling your hips into hers, thighs trembling as you hold yourself up simply by her shoulders. Her muscles flex beneath your hands and it only makes you moan louder. Your head falls back against the locker once more, giving Abby an opening to dive into your neck. She kisses, licks, bites any skin available to her, leaving little marks and bruises in her path. Something for her to gawk at later when you show up to practice (because she knows you will). Her hands hold you by your waist, fingertips digging into your flesh so hard that it hurts.

It only takes another two minutes until you feel your climax boiling somewhere deep inside of you. Your legs are just barely working anymore and your hips move with an untamed rhythm, shamelessly seeking any pleasure you can get. “I’m close,” you whimper, “please, please let me–”

Before you can finish your plea, she’s grabbing onto your hips and holding you still. You groan in frustration, balling your hands into fists and whacking them against her chest. “You fucking bitch!” You whine, only made angrier by the shit-eating grin on her face (plus the way she isn’t phased at all by your punches).

“Sorry,” Abby says, moving in so close to your face that your noses are nearly touching, “just needed to vent all this frustration. You know, since I lost the big game and all.”

She presses another kiss to your lips, and you reach up to grab hold of her hair, trying to deepen it as much as possible. She doesn’t struggle at all to pull away, though. You’ve never loved and hated someone’s muscles so much.

“Let me make it better.” You breathe, trying to move one of your hands down between her legs but she quickly grabs it to restrain you. “Please, I’ll– I promise, I’ll make you forget about that stupid game.”

“That’s not a very tempting offer,” Abby sighs dramatically just to get a rise out of you, “don’t wanna be sore for practice tomorrow.”

You scrunch your nose in thought. Is that an invitation? It has to be. She knows you’ll be there regardless. You stare deep into her eyes with a fury, but this only seems to amuse her.

She lets go of your hips and steps away from you. “See you then.”

You remain pressed up against the locker, lips kiss-bitten and legs shaky. You don’t even want to think about what your neck looks like. Abby grabs her bag from the bench and doesn’t even spare you another glance before walking out of the same door you came in through.

Fuck this, you think. Two can play at that game.

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson smut

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cheolhub · 1 year

Text

LOVE SCENE — LEE SEOKMIN ࿐

summary. you’re scared that seokmin might want to go separate ways after graduation, but he proves, in more ways than one, that he wants you. forever.

wc. 2.3k

warnings. college au. nerdy soft dom!seokmin, breeding kink xx, obscene amounts of dirty talk, pinch of angst, literal love making, unprotected sex, marriage kink, HEAVY praise, baby talk, v minimal plot im sorry — MINORS DNI 18+

note. DAMN ok i have a lot to say so i’ll keep it short. ONE this was a request but like i kinda didn’t do anything the request asked for and im so sorry, i hope u can forgive me anon. TWO i literally lost sight of the plot so dont ask me abt any missing details ehehb just enjoy seok being hot <3 THREE happy belated birthday to my minnie <3 FOUR thank u to my luvr @rkiv4d for beta-ing. yas ok enjoy

p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3

how seokmin pulled you, the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth, he has no clue. he’s what people call a ‘nerd’ with his thick-rimmed glasses and his abnormally high IQ and you’re the pretty girl that didn’t understand the simplicity of covalent and ionic bonds who fell head over heels for him.

you couldn’t help it, he was so smart and so fucking pretty. he was awkward and he giggled when he got nervous and he was so unbelievably goofy that it had you laughing till you cried. nevertheless, he was the most beautiful man ever.

then you asked him out. he remembers it like it was yesterday. the last day of your chem class– the end of the first semester of your sophomore year– right after your final. you thanked him incessantly, giving him a hug for helping you get a B in the class. you told him you’d rather thank him another way— another way being a date. with you. at your place with a homemade dinner.

he would’ve been stupid to decline. so he didn’t. and the rest was history. seokmin became your boyfriend, grew more confident in himself, and fell in love with you.

now you’re in your final year, the last few weeks approaching quickly, and you’ve been anxious. anxious about seokmin leaving you, anxious about going separate ways after graduation, anxious that this was all just fun and games till it was time to get serious about life.

seokmin has picked up on your behavioral patterns over the past 2 years. he knows you so well, probably better than anyone else in your life– probably better than he knows himself.

so when seokmin sees you evading his eyes with his cock stretching you open, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“hey,” he whispers, stilling inside of you. when you don’t turn your head and your eyes are still closed, he calls for you. “baby?”

you feel your heart clench at the pet name. “hmm?” you hum.

“baby, do you not wanna do this anymore?” he questions worriedly, ready to pull away from you. “i can pull out.”

you mumble, “i-i do.”

he cocks his head even more confused, “talk to me, pretty, what’s going on?”

he pushes into you some more, making you gasp and you can feel his expectant eyes burning holes into your face. you then realize he’s not gonna let this go, but it’s partially your fault for letting your mind wander while he was putting away the dinner you guys ate. you decide to just come out with it.

“‘m just… so scared of graduating…” you whimper between your words, eyes screwing tighter.

he hums, “look at me, baby.” the demand comes out so soft, yet the sheer dominance of his voice makes you clench around him. you turn your head on the pillow, opening your eyes, and finally looking at him. “why?”

you shudder at the eye contact. he looks so pretty, so concerned over you, yet you’re still tense and oh-so nervous. the topic of post-grad has never come up, and now you’re mid-fuck about to tell him how you want to be with him forever.

“i-i’m scared that… that you’re gonna go off without me,” you pant, hands wrapping around his biceps and holding him to keep you stable.

“where am i gonna go, beautiful?” he whispers, bottoming out and fully sheathing himself inside of you.

you whimper again, his massive cock filling you so well. “s-scared you’re gonna go do big things ‘n leave me…”

he freezes at that, eyes widening, “leave you?” he asks incredulously as if he couldn’t believe that you’d ask that question. “baby, you think i’d leave you?”

you nod slowly. “i dunno, ‘s just that i’ve been thinking ‘n you’re so smart– gonna go get a real job that’s across the country or something…”

he’s honestly bewildered. why would you ever think something like that when he’s tried so hard to show you how much he loves you every single day?

“oh, baby, i would never fucking leave you.” he presses his forehead yours, nose rubbing against yours. “pretty fucking thing, i adore you— love you. more than anything.”

your eyes glisten with tears at the reassurance. you feel yourself relax under him, entirely fluttering at his words. “really?”

“yes, really. how can i prove it to you? want me to put a ring on your finger?” he whispers, breath fanning against your face.

you gasp, clenching around him again, fingers digging into his muscles. he smiles, chuckling airly at your reaction.

“my pretty baby wants that? you like that idea?” he asks, his sultry voice filling your ears. “you wanna be my wife?”

you nod your head, eyes fluttering shut as you moan, “yeah, w-wanna be your wife.”

your response has seokmin reeling. he pulls his hips back and slams back into you making both of you moan again.

“yeah? bet you want my kids, too.” he states boldly, mind cringing at his words and internally freaking out that you’ll get turned off at them.

you choke, clamping tightly around his length. “f-fuck.” you cry. “d-don’t say things like that, seok.”

“why? ‘cuz i’m right?” he grunts, thrusts growing faster.

you nod your head and seokmin nearly cries, cock twitching at the idea of pumping you full of cum and getting you pregnant with his kids. you’d be such a great mom and he’d love having a mini-seok running around a nice, big house fit to take a family.

admittedly, he’s been wanting to talk about his future with you. he’s been fantasizing about it since the first time he said he loved you. fantasizing about you being his wife and living together in a big house and having three kids and living happily ever after as if it were some fairytale. he’s imagined your kids and how they would be a constant reminder of his everlasting love for you. he hopes that they’ll look like both of you– kids with your eyes and his nose. he’d kill for that.

“wanna put a baby in you,” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours. “swear to god, ‘m gonna give you everything you want– ‘ll get you a ring ‘n a house– everything. just say the word.”

you lift your head to press your lips to his, moaning into his mouth like a mad woman. your stomach drops in anticipation, suddenly craving the feeling of his warm cum filling you to the brim, sure to get you pregnant. your legs wrap around him, heels digging into his back and you can’t resist the cry that he ends up swallowing at the new angle.

seokmin pulls back, panting, “gonna let me give it to you, baby?”

“uh-huh!” you nod, eyes screwing shut and jaw going slack as his speed increases. “yes, yes, please give it to me.” your response is wavered as you nearly choke on a sob of pleasure.

and you know the decision is haste– a baby even though you still have a month left of undergrad seems… absurd to say the very least, but you don’t need to think about anything. you know seokmin. you know he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. he's an amazing boyfriend and person in general. you already know he’d make an even more amazing husband and father.

who would’ve thought the nerdy man with glasses who was insanely good at chemistry would be the one you ended up with?

he lets out a guttural moan, “such a good girl, always saying please.” he praises, slamming into your sweet spot repeatedly.

and jesus fucking christ, your moans and cries are like music to his fucking ears.

his head falls into your neck, licking and sucking at your skin. “never gonna leave, i promise. gonna make you mine, gonna take care of you.” he mumbles into the skin as he continues to mark and ravage you.

the stimulation and his words are sending you into orbit as your stomach churns and tightens at the feeling of his cock rearranging your insides. his strokes are impressive, never missing a beat and unrelentingly hitting the spot that makes you crumble.

he feels you tighten around him, gummy walls squeezing him in and he curses, “shit, is my pretty girl gonna cum already?” his voice borders on condescending, but it only makes the tightrope in your stomach all the more closer to completely unraveling.

“y-yeah, so close,” you moan breathily as your pants increase, chest rising and falling rapidly. “so fuckin’ close, min, ‘m gonna cum.”

his lips find your ear and he whispers hotly against the shell, “come on, baby, cum for me so i can fill you up.” he gently tugs at your earlobe with his teeth and you can’t resist, back arching with a shiver running down your spine.

your orgasm brings you immense pleasure, white spots filling your vision as you cum with a loud sob. you feel it in your entire body, from your curled toes to your thrown back head. your eyes roll back, calling out his name and raking your nails down the skin of his arms.

he coos, holding back a groan at the way you get even tighter as you soak him in arousal. “thaaat’s it, baby, just like that. so, so good for me.” he coaxes you through your euphoric high, fucking you through it as he always does.

“s-so good,” you slur, parroting his words as your mind numbs a bit.

he moans, letting the sound of your whimpers and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room. he buries his head in your neck again, desperately rutting into you so he can let go, too. your eyes flutter closed again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you.

your overstimulated pussy pulses around him as you listen and whine along to your lover's muffled moans. you can tell he’s close. so close to giving you the life you’ve imagined for almost 2 years. so close to being yours forever.

“seok, cum inside me,” you whisper and his hips stutter, yet they keep moving as if they have a mind of their own. he lifts his head and looks at you– his eyes are clouded over and teary, yet they’re filled with all the love in the world.

he looks so beautiful above you. his face is scrunched up in pleasure, brows knitted, eyes droopy, mouth hung open as pretty sounds exit his loose lips.

“i… fucking love you…so much.” he says in between pants, thrusts growing sloppy. the telltale signs of his fast approaching orgasm becoming heavily apparent. “god, so much, baby, love you so much.”

you nod your head, mirroring his pleasured face. “me too, seok, i love you.” your words are a bit scrambled, but seokmin makes sense of them– understands you so well.

his eyes roll back a bit at your response, brain momentarily malfunctioning, but he comes back seconds later. “gonna take this load like a good girl, right, pretty? gonna get pregnant and let me marry you?” he moans out breathily, cock now twitching uncontrollably.

“yes, yes, yes, please, wan’ it so bad!” you beg.

it’s all he needs to press his hips to yours, stilling there, and releasing inside of you while he moans out your name so prettily. it’s a newfound feeling for both of you– his cum coating your cunt, filling you up till it’s spilling on his freshly washed sheets. he’s grown accustomed to finishing on your skin or into a condom, but this? this is all very new. this is something he now can’t live without.

you think the same thing when you feel him spraying your walls with his thick ropes of cum. it feels so good– so euphoric– while it’s leaking out of you. you don’t know how you’ve gone your entire adult life without experiencing this at least once.

“c-came so much, baby…” you whimper, feeling him pull his cock out of you.

as soon as he sees his release dripping out of you, he groans softly, already feeling hard again, but he decides to ignore it for now, bringing his attention back to you.

“hey… love,” he says softly, noticing the way you perk up a bit from your tired state just at the sound of your name. “you should’ve told me you felt like that… i hate that you thought i’d just leave you ‘cause we won’t be in school anymore.”

you frown, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward… it’s the real world and i dunno… things are different.”

he sighs, hands running up and down your naked sides. “i get it, but like i said, i wanna be with you forever.”

you blush, biting your lip to hide the wide grin that ends up on your face despite the fact. “yeah, i remember… was that a proposal by the way?” you ask meekly.

he squeezes at your waist, “did you want it to be?” he beams.

“i mean, it was a bit untraditional, definitely not how i expected my wedding proposal to be.”

“what? you mean you didn’t think you’d get proposed to while i had my dick inside you?” he asks with faux incredulity. “i, for one, thought this was the best proposal ever. i even put a lil baby in you.”

you giggle, wrapping your legs around his body again, “you don’t know that, i’m not pregnant… yet.”

his heart swells at the idea and he smiles brightly at your blushy face, “well, maybe another round can change that, hmm?”

you pull him closer to you by the strength of your legs and say, “make me yours then, seokmin.”

#seokmin smut #dk smut #dokyeom smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin x reader

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orcusnoir · 6 months

Text

"You know what I hate?" The Champion asked to no one in particular as he watched over the slow boiling pot of stew.

"Uh... Not having enough spices?" The Captain asked from his seat at the table.

Wild gave a nod. "Not what I was going for, but yes."

"Then what do you hate, Champ?" Wars asked while glancing over to the Vet. Legend was currently trying to stack his fork and knife on top of each other to no avail.

"How do I put this?" Wild tapped his chin in thought.

"As bluntly as you can." Hyrule chimed in.

"Fair enough. Why are certain clothes locked to certain people? It's fucking cloth." Wild complained with a laugh.

At first Wars was going to chide Wild for the language, but... He just couldn't. Wild had a point here.

"FINALLY!" Wind's loud voice startled Wars a bit as the Sailor had been awfully quiet in his seat. "Tetra and I both hate that stupid shit. What do you mean I can't wear heels? I'm trying to feel tall, and Tetra hates heels, and so somebody has to wear them."

"Tell me about it." Wild started. "Zelda let me try on one of her old royal dresses, don't ask how they survived a hundred years, and somebody had issues with that."

The Captain just laughed. Damn those social rules indeed. Wild in a dress wasn't something he was expecting to hear about today, but it was something that he could picture.

And the Champion would rock that dress.

"Heh, I've been thinking those rules were stupid since I knew they existed. So, since I was nine." Time joined the conversation. "I didn't even know what the big deal was back then."

"I'd ask how, but I'm afraid the answer would be too confusing." Twilight said.

"Oh, not at all, I was raised by forest spirits and a giant tree." The Old Man nonchalantly explained. "They didn't have concepts like "male" and "female." So imagine my confusion."

A claim that he made often but never elaborated on. Everyone, besides the Captain and Wind, thought it was a lie or a ruse.

Warriors just laughed, he couldn't help it.

"Oh little Mask and his insisting that he's a tree." Wars felt everyone's eyes turn to him.

Time laughed loudly. "You made that corporals life hell."

"I did not have time for that guy's bullshit. We are in the middle of a fucking war, if the kid says he's a tree then he's a fucking tree." Wars started to lose his composure from all of his laughing.

"What do you mean by "he's a tree"?" Sky asked while scratching his head.

"Again, I was raised by forest spirits." Time explain. "You lot, besides two, think this a lie. It's not."

"Time, your life profoundly confuses me." Sky said. "So they assigned you a tree?"

Time nodded.

"Instead of anything else?"

Another nod.

"Not like a boy tree? Just a tree?"

Another nod. "Two trees, to be exact. But yes."

"Two trees?"

"Maple and oak, to be exact."

Wars just watch the conversation with a grin. Oh, poor Sky. He must be feeling the same confusion that he and the Sailor had during the war.

"I feel so understood." Rulie said with the widest smile imaginable. "I'm just a Fae." He shrugged as the others turned to face him. "Not the legend kind of Fae. I was raised by Fairies."

"Well, now you can be a Fae tree. How lovely." Time stated with a laugh.

"What kinda tree?"

"Hmmm, you and the Captain both have the same one. Pine, and you can have maple too. As a treat."

"A Fae pine and maple tree. Nice."

"Are we just gonna brush over the fact that Wars already has a tree identity?" Legend asked.

"I do too!" Wind but in. "Take a guess, it's so obvious."

"Uh...Palm tree?" Twilight asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Correct!"

"What tree am I then?" Wild asked while seasoning a few cuts of meat.

"Willow." Time and Warriors both spoke at the same time.

"Damn, that was fast."

"You had this conversation before, hadn't you?" Sky asked while keeping his gaze locked to Wars. "So tell us our trees."

"Oh, alright, I'll try to remember all the specifics. It's been a while." Time laughed while tapping his fingers on the table.

"It all reminds me of the Minish. They have leaves instead of trees, though." Four, who had been quietly observing this whole time, finally spoke up.

"Oh, the Kokiri had leaves too. That's a whole other thing."

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu writing #lu time #lu twilight #lu sky #lu wind #lu wild #lu wars #lu warriors #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu chain #lu headcanons #queers them into oblivion #they might not have the terms but they've got the feelings #look me in the eyes and tell me that Time who was raised by a tree knew what a boy and a girl was #lu fic

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munsonluhvr · 3 months

Text

HOW TO FAKE IT (MINI SERIES) (PART 1)

contents: steve harrington x reader. best friends/fake dating to lovers. sfw! In an attempt to cover up a lie and make his ex-gf jealous, Steve enlists you, his best friend, to fake date him // slowwww burn. word count - 3.7k

notes: welcome to 1/4 of 'how to fake it,' my first mini series for Steve Harrington. I hope you enjoy; part 2 coming soon!

installments: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

“Steve, as much as I care for you, I can’t take this anymore,” you say, leaning on the counter of Scoops Ahoy. “You have to stop; It’s been months and she’s not changing her mind.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head. His scoops ahoy hat slips down on his head, nearly falling off. “Don’t say that, yes she will. I’m Steve Harrington, she has to take me back.”

For the hundredth time, you were listening to your best friend Steve complain about his ex-girlfriend Tina – who broke up with him several months ago, and despite Steve’s beliefs, was not taking him back any time soon. Although Steve was torn up about the breakup, you were relieved for him. Tina was a bitch, and you knew Steve could do a lot better.

“There’s a million girls in Hawkins, you can find somebody else.” You hum, starting to roll your eyes at Steve’s demeanor. “It’s not healthy to be dwelling on someone who obviously doesn’t care about you.”

Steve fumbles with an ice cream scoop, sighing as he fiddles with the utensil. “She’s going to come back, just wait.”

Behind you, the door bell jingles, signaling that a customer is entering the ice cream shop. Steve’s head jerks up: “Welcome to Scoops-“ Steve says, his voice trailing off towards the end of his mandatory phrase. You watch as Steve’s face drops, his mouth gaping at the sight behind you. You turn around, seeing exactly what Steve was looking at.

As if she had been in the room seconds earlier, waiting for Steve to say the magic words that she’d come back, Tina, and a male dressed in a Hawkins sports team jacket, walk through the ice cream shops door. When Tina realizes it’s you and Steve at the counter, you can tell she wants to turn on her heel and walk out. You can’t help but roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Oh,” Tina says, her eyes catching yours briefly. “I didn’t think you’d still be working here.”

You lean back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. Tina always hated you due to the way you and Steve were so close. You and Steve had inside jokes and regularly scheduled hang outs; all of which Tina despised. To Tina, you were a constant competition.

“It’s my job, Tina, why would I have quit?” Steve says, flushing at the sight of his ex-girlfriend.

Tina shrugs, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. Even from a few feet away you can smell her sickeningly sweet perfume. “I don’t know, it’s just what I figured,” Tina hums, clasping her hands in front of her. The boy next to her, someone you didn’t recognize, stood next to Tina silently.

Steve, ignoring the fact that Tina had a male with her, was upfront. “I’ve called you a bunch of times and you’ve never called back.”

You let your eyes close out of discomfirt and awkwardness. You can’t bear to watch your best friend gravel with the devil.

“Yeah, I know Steve. We broke up, there’s not much else to say. I mean I’ve moved on already.” Tina says, gesturing towards the boy next to her. The boy had no facial expression whatsoever, his eyes trained on the rows of ice cream, standing there as if he was a rock. “You’re not seeing anyone?”

Steve shifts behind you on the other side of the counter, obviously thinking of some excuse. “No, I am.” You frown, looking over your shoulder at Steve. You give him a look, wondering how he was going to maneuver out of this conversation.

“Who?” Tina asks. “Do I know her?”

Steve shrugs, trying to avoid naming an imaginary girl. “Can I get you anything? We have a bunch of new flavors this week.”

Tina sniffs and shakes her head, obviously unsatisfied at the lack of answer Steve gives her. You’re sure she’s going to go home and phone her friends to see if Steve is dating one of her perky, blonde friends. Even though she's trying to be nonchalant, you have no doubt Tina brought her new boyfriend to Scoops Ahoy, knowing that Steve would be working - just to make him jealous. “Chrissy Cunningham and Jason Carver are having a party at Jason’s house tomorrow; you should bring your girlfriend. I’d love to meet her.” Tina says with a painfully fake smile. “I’m glad we’ve both moved on.”

Steve smiles, standing up straighter. “We’ll be there.” With a single nod, Tina turns on her heel and walks out of the store. Once Tina is out of the store, you turn sharply towards Steve. “What the hell was that?”

Steve covers his face with his hands, bending across the counter to lean on the platform. “I know, I know, I screwed up. I didn’t know what to say.”

“Well, good luck with that. Getting a girlfriend by tomorrow should be interesting.”

Steve groans, “I’m so screwed.”

You lean back on your bed, a book resting on the top of your thighs. You're dressed in your favorite pajama set, fuzzy socks adorning your feet. After you visited Steve, his lack of a girlfriend unresolved, you headed home, nestling into your bed early. Throughout the rest of the evening, your mind circled back to the Steve and Tina situation, each time you thought about it you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

You are engrossed in your book, about to flip a page, when you hear a soft knock on your window. You pause, thinking it could be the wind and choose to ignore the sound. The knock happens a second time and you get up from your bed, moving to look out your window. You hold back a scream when you see Steve on the other side, sitting on your roof.

“Steve,” you say, lifting up the window. “It’s like you want my parents to catch you and ground me for sneaking you into my room.”

Steve maneuvers into your room through the open window. “Your parents love me, they wouldn’t mind.”

You scoff, lowering your voice. “If they love you then why didn’t you use the front door?”

Steve waves his hand, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Let’s not focus on that, let’s focus on why I’m here.”

You sit on the chair that’s tucked into your desk, sitting across from Steve. “Go on.”

“So I was thinking - I want you to be my fake girlfriend.” Steve says, glancing at you. “You’re the person who knows me best and we get along great; you’d play a perfect girlfriend.”

“Are you crazy?” You look at Steve as if he has ten heads, shaking your head. “No, I won’t.”

“Why not? It would totally piss off Tina, no offense but she hates you. It can just be for tomorrow and then we can break up.”

You scoff again, looking away at the other side of your room. “I don’t want to be known as one of the notches in your belt. Plus, that’s just weird, everyone knows we’re best friends.”

Steve pouts, wringing his hands together. “Y/n, please. Just for tomorrow, I need Tina to be jealous and see what she’s missing out on.”

You surprise yourself when you catch yourself considering Steve's proposition. It's insane to fake date Steve; you're sure nobody would believe it but Steve looks so pathetic sitting at the edge of the bed, his big, brown eyes wide with hope that you'll agree. Steve is your best friend, and you truly would do anything to help him, potentially even fake date him for an evening. Steve has always been there for you, taking you to go see 'girly' movies, sneaking you your favorite flavor of ice cream after he finishes work at Scoops Ahoy. What will everyone think? What will everyone say? You push the unanswerable questions out of your mind, sighing as you realize what you’re about to say.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“If we leave now we could probably make the last viewing at Hawkins Theater,” you say while glancing out Steve’s passenger window, Jason Carver’s home staring back at you. You sit in his car, your trendiest dress on with converse sneakers – and Steve’s old varsity basketball jacket on (a prop in which he insisted on you wearing to make your relationship believable). The jacket dwarfs your body, the sleeves are entirely too big for your arms; and it smells of mothballs, signaling that Steve had pulled the article of clothing out just for this occasion.

“We’ll just stay for a little while, until Tina notices us.” Steve says, pushing his sunglasses onto his face even though it’s 9 o’clock and dark out. From previous experience, staying ‘a little while’ at a party meant staying until it was over, and people were heading home.

Steve pops his driver’s door open, coming around the front of the car to open the passenger door. “Ready to do this?” Steve asks, slinging his arm over your shoulder. He brings you in close to his body, his grip tight on you. You can feel his nervousness through his touch.

You weren’t entirely sure if you were ready, you hadn’t even fully processed the arrangement you and Steve had come up with. After you agreed to fake dating Steve, you both shook on the fact that the arrangement wouldn’t last longer then tonight. You never dated before, Steve dated enough for the both of you, and you weren’t sure how to act as a girlfriend. You decided to take cues from the movies you watched, picking up pointers from the characters.

You are also, of course, nervous about how other’s would perceive you as Steve’s girlfriend. You are meek, your personality only coming out for Steve and your other friends, and you preferred to stay home and read rather than partying with Tina. Everyone knew you as Steve’s best friend but how would they receive you as Steve’s girlfriend?

“Ready,” you say despite your lack of confidence. Within a few strides you’re at Jason Carvers front door. Even from outside you can hear the chatter, music, and laughter that’s unfolding inside. Steve reaches out, grasping the doorknob. Before twisting it to unlatch the door, he hesitates beside you.

The door creaks open, revealing the cramped hallways and rooms of the Carver household. Dozens of people in chic 80s clothing flitter around the house, red solo cups in their hands. Off to your right is the living room, people standing against the wall in groups or sitting on the two sofa that faced each other. To your left is the dining room, a long table covered in bottles of alcohol and cheap party snacks. Straight ahead was the kitchen, a girl being encouraged to drink from the keg.

“Steve!” A voice calls from the crowd. Your eyes follow the sound, revealing Jason who pushes his way through the crowd. “So glad you made it, we can’t have a party without our king of the keg. And you brought y/n; of course, you did, you guys are a pair.” Though Jason’s eyes linger on Steve’s arm around your shoulders.

Steve laughs, looking off into the crowd, no doubt trying to spy Tina. “Y/n is actually my date to the party, she’s my girlfriend.”

Jason’s eyebrows raise as he rocks back onto his heels. “Wow; I wish I could say I’m surprised but I guess I always thought you guys would be good for each other.”

Now you frown, realizing Jason actually could see you and Steve as a couple. You wish you could tell Jason that he was wrong, that you and Steve would never date.

“Does Tina know?” Jason asks before Steve or you could answer.

“Now she does,” Steve says, nodding his head in the direction of the living room. Tina stood in the middle of the room; a red solo cup placed tightly within her grip. You could tell she was fuming. Jason recognized Tina’s distraught look and glances at you and Steve. “I should probably bring up another keg from the basement, enjoy the party.” Jason says, slipping away quickly.

Tina approaches you and Steve within a few steps, but she keeps her distance from where you both stand. “What do we have here?” Tina says, crossing her arms over her chest. A drop of beer sloshes over the rim of the cup. “Did I really just hear you tell Carver that you two are a couple; that y/n is your girlfriend?”

Steve didn’t say anything, and you offer a thin-lipped smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday that you two were dating?” Tina asks, as you watch her jaw clench. Steve shrugs, “you left before I could say anything.”

Tina’s eyes narrow, her eyes analyzing you and Steve intensely. “How long have you been together?”

At the same time, you say, “two months” and Steve says, “three months.” You both glance at each other. “Two and a half months, to be precise.” You say, offering another small smile.

Tina hums, continuing to investigate you and Steve. Beside you, Steve shifts uncomfortable, feeling yours and his charade start to crack. “Babe, do you want something to drink? Let’s go see what they have.” Steve says, glancing down at you. His arm drops from around your shoulder to your hand, letting his fingers interlace with yours. You feel your palms begin to moisten. You nod, letting Steve guide you away from Tina.

“Holy shit, Tina’s really pissed.” Steve says to you once your away from his ex. Steve weaves through the crowd, tugging you along with him. “Did you see her face when she saw us talking to Jason? I wish somebody had got a picture of her so I could frame it.”

Steve rambles and you hum trying to fill your half of the conversation. You, however, are too caught up in your thoughts, feeling the eyes of the party guests boring into your skin. All around you people turn to look over their shoulder, noticing how Steve guides you through the crowd lovingly, or the way his fingers caresses your back as he shepherds you around the party. When you got to the drink table, people watch as curious onlookers as Steve pours you a drink, swiping a piece of your hair that had fallen in your face. To the outside world, you’re sure it all looks so natural, so real.

You’re sure Steve notices it too. “Let’s sit,” Steve says, bending down to whisper to you. Again, he guides you through the party, steering you to the open seat on one of the couches. Steve sits down promptly, beside another couple that are in their own world, lips only millimeters from each other. You stand awkwardly at the end of the couch, feeling people watch you closely; there’s no place for you to sit.

“Sit on my lap,” Steve says through closed teeth, noticing your lack of fluidity. You hesitate, not knowing you feel about putting your bottom so close to Steve’s groin. You push out your uncomfortableness and gently, and gracefully, sit on Steve’s lap.

You face in one direction, maintaining a perfect view of the lip-locking couple, and you lean against Steve and the end of the couch. “This is weird,” you mutter, feeling your tenseness.

“Act natural,” Steve says, placing an arm around your waist. His fingertips grip your hip.

You loop an arm around his neck. “There’s nothing natural about this,” you say. From any angle, you know you look stiff and uncomfortable – certainly not like a girlfriend of ‘two and a half months.’

“Y/n, please?” Steve pleads, leaning back in the cushions of the couch, furthering pushing your bodies together. You sigh, mimicking all the other couples around the party. You nestle into Steve’s arms, remembering how you’d do anything for this girl-crazy best friend of yours.

Steve lets his hands wander down your thigh, the tips of his fingers tickling your bare skin. You feel your cheeks and neck flush with heat, the foreign feeling igniting something within you. You had never been touched by a boy before.

Again, your mind flashes back to the millions of scenes in movies that you’ve watched before where boyfriends and girlfriend interact with each other. You know they kiss, though you can’t bring yourself to kiss Steve, they hug and fondle each other. Physical touch seems to be the love language of choice in the movies you’ve seen.

In the corner of the living room, you see Tina standing with one of her friends, you’ve forgotten her same – Sophia or Sydney or something like that, looking in yours and Steve’s direction. You realize it’s game time.

With utmost confidence, you let your fingers wander into Steve’s luscious hair, your fingers interlacing between his brown locks. Steve looks in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Tina’s looking,” you say, turning your nonchalant gaze into a gaze of affection. Your fingers comb Steve’s hair and you feel how soft and silky it is. You let your thumb brush across his temple, letting the tips of your fingers trace his cheekbones and then jawline. You don’t think about what you’re doing, it’s as if your fingers are in autopilot.

Without moving, Steve keeps his big brown eyes trained on you, his fingers gripping your thigh. You assume he’s playing his part nicely, making it seem as if this is what you and he do every night – caress each other’s skin and gaze into each other’s eyes, but little do you know, Steve’s mind is blank, his body in a trance under your touch.

Your fingers pause where they get to Steve’s lips, the pad of your thumb itches to brush across his plump bottom lip – you’ve always admired Steve’s lips, but you stop yourself; that’s just a bridge too far.

You lean back at last, looking back out at the rest of the party, away from Steve’s face. Steve exhales, learning he had been holding his breath the entire time. Steve realizes it’s his turn to play the game; as you lean against him, his arm unlatches from around you to allow his hand to travel freely to your neckline where he sweeps your hair away from neck. Leaning forward, Steve places a small kiss on your shoulder blade where his varsity jacket had slipped off your shoulders.

You glance back at Steve, a smile lingering on your lips. “This is crazy, Steve.”

“I know but it’s kind of fun; making Tina mad, I mean.” Steve says, his eyes flickering to where Tina stands with her friend.

You aren’t sure if you agree but you know you’re tired of thinking about your every move, knowing a crowd is watching you perform. “Can we leave yet?” you ask, expressing displeasure across your face.

Steve bounces his knees, making your jolt on his lap. Your hair falls back into place, covering the burning spot where Steve had just kissed. “Pretend to be having a good time, just for a little longer.”

You sigh, leaning back into Steve’s chest. You smell his cologne that clings to his clothes. You wish you could be in Steve’s room, laying out on his plush bed, his cassette player on and listening to him complain about girls or his coworker Robin.

You’re almost in the fetal position on Steve’s lap, his arms wrapped around your body tightly. Steve dips down to your ear, “Pretend I’m saying something funny and laugh.”

You put your week of theater summer camp that your mom sent you to when you were eight to good use and laugh softly, as feminine as possible. You glance up at him from your position. “You owe me big time, Steve Harrington.”

This time Steve laughs, but it’s genuine and not fake at all.

Eventually the party begins to die down and you convince Steve to take you home. For the last hour, you and Steve worked together to make this relationship believable, whispering into each other’s ears and letting Steve’s hand slide up and down your thigh. By the end of the night, your head aches.

“You were amazing,” Steve says, “You know, you should consider becoming an actress.” Steve puts his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, as you walk out of the party.

“No, it’s just what I do for my best friend. I meant it when I said you owe me.”

Steve laughs, taking his sunglasses off. He swings them in a loop, by holding one of the arms of the glasses, before he places them on top of your head. You pull them down over your eyes. “How can I repay you, Miss Harrington?”

You scoff at the new nickname. “Pretty in Pink is at the theaters; you, me, bucket of popcorn, this weekend.”

Steve groans – he isn’t a fan of Molly Ringwald. “Fine,” Steve says.

You smile satisfied. You reach Steve car that’s parked right in front of the sidewalk. As Steve opens the passenger door, someone yelling his name causes you both to turn around. It’s Tina.

“Steve!” Tina yells across the Carver’s lawn. Beside you, Steve tenses. Jogging, Tina approaches you quickly.

“What’s up Tina?” Steve says.

Tina’s slightly out of breath, as she begins to speak. “This weekend Chrissy and I, our boys, and some friends were planning on going to Chrissy’s family cabin – She and I were talking, and we think you and y/n should join us – since you’re a couple and all.”

Steve shakes his head. “We have plans this weekend, we’re going to the movies.”

Tina rolls her eyes. “Hawkins theater will still be in town when we all get back, you can go next weekend. Really, Steve, I insist – we should be able to hang out around each other without it being weird or awkward.”

Steve sighs, glancing at you. You glance back at him, an unspoken agreeance unfolding between you. You have to keep the charade going for a few more days. “Okay,” Steve says, turning his glance to Tina and taking your hand into his. “We can’t wait.”

Tina clasps her hands, her eyes sending daggers your way. You have no idea what you’re in for. “Can’t wait,” you mumble, squeezing Steve’s hand as hard as you can.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fan fiction #Steve Harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things fic

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storiesforthemoonchild · 5 months

Text

Jersey Swap | Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

based on this request ... Enjoy :)

You should be focused on your warmups, but how could you with a Ballon d’Or winner warming up directly in front of you. A very talented and very cute Ballon d’Or winner. Aitana Bonmatí was magical. The way she dances with the ball around the pitch has you mesmerized. You were both excited and terrified when Arsenal was drawn in the same group as Barcelona for the Champions League this year.

“OI! (y/n),” you hear Katie shout just as a ball drills you in the back of the head.

You turn and send a glare at your Irish teammate, “what the hell was that for?” you grumble rubbing at the back of your head.

“Time to focus up. You can swoon over your little crush after the game,” she tells you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder to lead you back towards the other girls.

“I don’t have a crush,” you lie, sneaking a peak over your shoulder. You meet the worried gaze of Aitana who quickly sends you a warm smile before turning to sprint to the touchline.

You take a moment to center yourself for the game, blocking out anything that was not going to help you give your team 3 points. For the next 90 minutes your focus had to be on the game. Easier said than done, because when you get in formation to start the game your eyes once again meet with a certain Barcelona midfielder. This time there is no smile from either of you, but her intense gaze still causes something to stir inside you.

The whistle blows and your focus is back to leaving everything out on the pitch. The first 45 minutes are brutal. Your team struggles to keep possession and struggles even more to defend their attack. You had the unfortunate task of marking Aitana, but you were proud of your efforts. You had limited her to very few touches in the first, and went into the break only down 1-0.

Coming out in the second half you could see Barcelona had flipped a switch. They were matching your physical play, and while your team had managed to equalize in the 50th minute it didn’t last long. Aitana managed to finally dance around you in the midfield and put Barcelona back on top in the 56th.

Right before stoppage time you have a chance to break, but are harshly pulled back by Aitana. You lay there taking a moment to catch your breath before you see a hand dangling above you, “lo siento,” Aitana says softly as you accept her hand.

You nod and try to ignore the way her hand fits perfectly in yours. She gives you a gentle pat to the back before running to her position. The free kick doesn’t amount to anything, and the game ends in a 2-1 win for Barcelona.

You gather around for a team huddle with your Arsenal teammates before breaking away to congratulate the Barcelona girls. Quickly you make your way over to your national team teammates, Lucy and Kiera, and wrap them in a hug. Lucy shoving you away as you try to plant a kiss to her cheek, “save it for your little crush,” she teases.

Admittedly you hadn’t been the most subtle in your infatuation with the Spaniard. Last Lionesses camp you had the pleasure of rooming with Lucy and chose to spend the time grilling her for any information she had. Thus, it led to her telling Kiera and a never ending line of teasing for the rest of camp.

Before you get a chance to deny your crush, you see a wicked grin covering Kiera’s face, “well would you look at who it is.”

You spin on your heels just as Aitana reaches the three of you, “hi,” she says, eyes going between each of you. You’re frozen in your spot with a smile so wide it causes your cheeks to hurt. “I am Aitana,” she tells you, reaching out a hand.

“Oh, she knows you. We were just talkin bout ya,” Lucy says.

You nudge Lucy harshly in the side while reaching your other hand out to Aitana, “I’m (y/n),” you say bashfully.

“Sí, you play so good today. Your shirt, I can have it?” She asks tugging on her own jersey.

You reach for the bottom of your shirt and tug it over your head without a second thought. Immediately holding it out to her you catch her eyes snapping up from your toned stomach back to your eyes. The red tint coating her cheeks makes you smirk, “Can I have yours?”

Aitana nods and you hear the snickering from behind you and shoot a glare at the girls.

“What a lovely moment,” Lucy jokes as you hear the snap of cameras going off as you and Aitana each hand over your jersey.

You roll your eyes at Lucy before exchanging thank you’s with Aitana. You wrap the jersey around your neck as you say your goodbyes before jogging off towards Katie who was waving you over. “Look at that, did she write her number on the back of the jersey,” Katie teases when you reach her. You choose to ignore her this time as you steal one last glance at the Ballon d’Or winner before heading back in the tunnel.

Later that evening you are in your shared hotel room with Laia scrolling through your instagram feed, seeing all the photos of your shirt swap earlier. You post one on your story with ‘best day ever. Thank you!’ and tag Aitana. You have long followed the Barca player, and were extremely excited when she followed you back finally this evening.

“Teach me how to say something sweet in Catalan?” you casually say to your roommate, who’s packing away like you should be doing.

“Oh, why?” Laia perks up. You shrug, refusing to meet her teasing gaze, “you can just message Aitana in English. I’m not going to translate a whole conversation just for you to flirt.”

You roll your eyes, but don’t respond further. You spend way too long trying to think of a message before settling on a simple, ‘hola’. The reply is almost instant and you wonder if she was sitting wondering what to say to you as well.

Over the next few months you get quite familiar with the midfielder. The DM’s quickly moved over to text and it was rare that a day went by and the two of you didn’t speak. It was mostly friendly, but a bit of cheeky flirting never hurt either. The two of you would send each other daily phrases in an attempt for her to teach you Spanish and her to further expand her English. There were very few phone calls as the both of you quickly realized how shy you got on them.

You were certain she had the same attraction as you did, but you weren’t eager to jump into a long distance situation. You never met on the pitch again that season having been knocked out of the Champions League earlier than you and your team would’ve liked. It wasn’t until both of your seasons had wrapped up that you would see her again. Lucy had invited you and a few others from the national team out to Barcelona for an end of season celebration.

You couldn’t hide your disappointment when on your first night out there, Aitana told you she would be unable to come out with you all because she was visiting family. While being able to see Lucy and all the other girls was great, everyone knew you had a very specific reason for being excited for the trip. The next morning when you make your way to the kitchen of the villa Lucy had rented you’re sure you are still dreaming. You rub at your tired eyes, but are still met with the same smile from before.

“Bon dia (y/n),” Aitana’s sweet voice rings out in your ear. You quickly make your way over wrapping your arms around the smaller girl.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here? I would’ve come out sooner,” you had spent your morning curled up in bed until the smell of food and the rumble of your stomach forced you up.

“It is a surprise,” she smiles.

There was a new found energy you had on the trip. The whole time you and Aitana were glued at the hip. Whether it was at breakfast, by the pool, out shopping, clubbing, a restaurant, or wherever you were together. If you parted for even a moment you always found your eyes wandering to meet with hers across the room. At night you would both separate and go to your rooms to sleep only to head to the other’s room first thing in the morning. You were grateful that the girls had left you alone for the most part, and there had been very little teasing.

You had only two days left on your holiday and didn’t want to end it without spending some one-on-one time with Aitana. You had asked her to join you for dinner, just the two of you and she agreed. That’s how Lucy found herself in your room surrounded by piles of clothes.

“What do you think of this?” you ask her.

“I don’t know, I mean I think it looks just as good as the last one did,” she shrugs clearly over the fashion show you’ve been putting on for the last 30 minutes.

You sigh, “fine, I’m going to wear the first outfit then.”

Lucy looks like she’s going to lay into you before taking a deep breath, “just relax kid. It will be fine. You don’t have to be nervous. She’ll be excited when you tell her the news and it won’t matter if you were wearing a trash bag.”

You nod, you knew Lucy was right. You change and put the finishing touches on your outfit before meeting Aitana in the living room. You’re speechless, this being the first time either of you dressed up properly the whole trip. Both of your teammates sit around trying to act like they are not paying attention to the interaction, making you quick to usher her out of the villa.

The dinner goes smoothly, you had let Aitana pick the place since she knew the city better than you. Everything is easy with Aitana and you don't feel pressure to be anything but yourself when around her. There is one thing floating in the air around you both, and you can’t hold it in any longer. “Is this a date?”

If you weren’t so caught up in your unnecessary fear you would find it comical the way she freezes with her wine glass halfway lifted to her mouth. “Sí,” she responds, snapping out of it. It was always so attractive to you the way she seamlessly switched between English and Spanish during your conversations.

“Good, I have to tell you something,” you see the worry rise to her face. “I’m leaving Arsenal this summer.”

“Por qué? Where will you go?” She knew you loved your club, so the shock was evident on her face.

“Barça,” you shrug.

“Pardon, pardon. Can you repeat it,” she stutters out.

You laugh, reaching a hand across the table to grab hold of hers, “Barcelona offered me a contract. I’m coming here next season.”

You match the wide grin that spreads across her face, “I want to kiss you.”

You pull her hand towards you and place a kiss on the back of it, “There will be plenty of kisses to come. I can’t wait for you to show me around Barcelona.”

“It will be best tour yet,” she tells you.

#aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader

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kisseobie · 1 month

Text

jasmine

pairing: non idol jongseob x fem!reader

genre: fluff

a saccharine summer evening spent at your favorite nail parlor is so much sweeter when you’re accompanied by a boy made out of star-shaped tangerines 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

tags: established relationship, reader is slightly anxious, the sweetest boyfie seob, reader is sooo girly, slightly suggestive if you squint, jongseob thinks ur the prettiest girl in the world, usage of petnames (baby, princess, etc..), yall are so in love it’s sick, no smut in this but mdni pls

a/n: haiii everyone ^_^ so i haven’t written self inserts in years but i desperately crave more jongseob fics (as u can see from my last post lol) sooooo here i am!! this is very self indulgent but if i like how this goes i mighttttt start taking piwon requests :p please be kind as i haven’t written in a veryyyy long time… anyways enjoy 𓇼⋆｡˚

listening to: jasmine - dpr live ♪

“they have to soak off my previous set before they get started so you really don’t have to stay with me here if you don’t want to seob.. it’s gonna be 2 hours at least.”

you shyly inform him as you begin to retrieve your phone from your back pocket to search for your appointment confirmation email as the pair of you come to a gentle halt in front of the entrance of your favorite nail salon. you pause before entering, turning to face towards him as the salty breeze of the nearby boardwalk cards through jongseob’s copper colored hair, a sight that makes you swoon. “you sure you won’t be bored?” you ask shyly, and jongseob gives you a toothy grin in return, eyes crinkling softly as he tilts his head towards the sliding doors of the salon, a sweet and silent reply to your hesitance that speaks, “i’m never bored when i’m with you”. he slowly lifts his hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear and kisses your cheek, all whilst interlacing his fingers with your slightly smaller ones as you both make your way into the salon.

you somehow find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

it’s been just short of a year since kim jongseob first approached you, fidgeting with the fabric of his favorite hoodie and swaying back and forth on his heels to ease his nerves as he asked you for your number. the sweet boy expected for you to kindly let him down (partly because you had never spoken to him a day in your life, and partly because of the gorillaz logo on his apparel), but to his astonishment, you simply punched your number into his keypad, and one text reading: “hi :)” led to a plethora of late night conversations, hushed giggles shared in his bedroom, and coffee flavored kisses in the mornings (much to his roomates’ dismay).

he’s wearing that same hoodie this evening too.

the domesticity of your blooming relationship is new, but never unwelcome, so it didn’t surprise you when he asked to accompany you when you were cuddled up with him a few nights ago, haphazardly mentioning that you were planning to get a new set of acrylics soon. seob had been paying for your previous sets despite your constant disapproval, but this was his first time going with you to a booking, and it felt oddly intimate, like you were starting to enter a more serious stage of your relationship.

jongseob’s reassurance allows you to let go of your irrational fear of him dying of boredom during your appointment, and with that, you two carry onto your seven o’clock session.

“girl, that’s your man? that’s the one you were telling me about?”

are the first words that leave your nail tech’s lips as as you settle down into her usual station, setting your purse to the side, straightening your jean skirt, and adjusting your bra strap as you question the surprise written all over her face. you had spent countless of sessions with her discussing your relationship with jongseob, her even being there for the details of your distant crush on him prior to you being asked out. always the persistent type, she had been practically begging for you to bring him around these last few appointments, mentioning something about “taking a good look” at the boy who had swiftly stolen your heart.

your tech must have noticed the slight blush of embarrassment appearing on your cheeks, because she jumped to clarifying her previous statement with, “i don’t mean that in a bad way babe! he’s definitely very attractive, i was just surprised you were so shy in approaching him is all.” at these words you tilted your head a bit, only more confused about the implications of what she was attempting to tell you.

“y/n, he was staring at you the entire time you were checking in like he’d hang the stars and moon for you if you’d ask. he had that dopey lovesick look and everything. he’s obviously smitten, you have literally nothing to worry about.” she relays to you with amusement as she dips your fingertips in acetone.

you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in and quietly giggle. “really? okay i’m really glad you said that, he’s been so sweet to pay for all of my sets without me even asking him to and i was just so worried that he’d hate me forever if he got bored sitting here. i think i’m just not used to doing simple chores with him rather than elaborately planned dates” you whisper to her. you then take a peek at your boyfriend’s comfortable form lounging on one of the hot pink seats of the salon, his nintendo switch clad in one hand, and his cheek pressing against the other. you notice he only has his left airpod in, just in case you needed to call for him. your heart melts at the sight, and you finally turn your full attention back to your tech, now removing your old set of nails.

as you wait patiently in your chair you begin to lightly sway your head to the song playing on a distant salon speaker, one that your boyfriend coincidentally has on repeat each time your with him nowadays. “it’s called jasmine, it reminds me of you.” is what you remember him telling you one morning, when you woke up for the first time in his bed, wired headphones connecting you both as the dpr live track overtook the cozy atmosphere.

every now and then you and seob glance at each other from across the salon, to which you both begin breaking out into big smiles and rosy cheeks. your nail technician carries on with replicating the reference nails you showed her to a T, but not without silently noting the heart eyes you and jongseob shoot at each other everytime your eyes happen to lock. this time, he mischievously motions for you to glance at your phone, a quiet “ding!” from your cell grasping both you and your tech’s attention.

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: you look so pretty right now baby, i’m so excited to feel your nails in my hair later lol

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: and maybe scratching my back too ;)

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: omg that was so embarrassing im so sorry please look away plead im so bad at this fuck

you look away from your screen embarrassingly fast, flustered and avoiding any eye contact with both your loser boyfriend (who is wallowing in his own embarrassment) and the woman now raising her eyebrows in front of you as she waits for your nails to cure under the uv lamp.

she is so making fun of you for that next time.

“andddd we’re done! just go wash your hands and your boyfriend can pay at the desk. he looks like he’s gonna flip if he isn’t holding you in some way in the next two minutes and i really don’t need to witness that.” she exclaims, not without exaggeratedly rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

you begin to fully assess your fresh new set of acrylics, now topped off with a sparkly clear coat. your nail tech even added some oil to your cuticles to try and make up for months of self-inflicted damage. after a minute of observing, you hum in approval, deducing happily that your boyfriend is going to love the colors you chose: tangerine with hints of cherry red to subtly match with his hair.

“perfect, just like always. thank you so much!” you say while handing her a generous tip, to which she holds out her hand in refusal and shakes her head. “no tip today, just go spend some time with him, i’m so happy for you y/n, seriously.” she replies kindly. you give her a hug to say thanks and tuck the cash back into your purse, turning and making your way towards the chair your boyfriend is currently occupying as he watches you with a warm smile, hands crossed in front of his chest as he holds back a laugh.

“what’s so funny?” you question as you approach him slowly.

“i called her beforehand and sent her a tip for you, i knew you were gonna try to pay somehow.” he giggles as he stands up. you scoff, but deep down you know you should have known he would outsmart you like this.

“i can’t believe you! i’ve told you a hundred times before that i don’t want you to spend your money on me!” you try to reason with him, to which he cuts your frustration off with a simple “who’s going to take care of you then, princess? now show me your nails!” he says as he hovers his hands in front of him, a signal for you to follow suit so he can observe the result of the previous two hours of work.

you decide to drop the subject for now and let excitement take over once again at his request, bouncing up and down whilst placing your hands atop of his palms, not allowing him to speak before you explain that “they match your hair, see? i asked her to do orange and red ombre!! and i know you love stars so i also asked her to add little golden star studs on my pinky nails! what do you think babe?” you half squeal out at him, clearly awaiting his approval.

“you did this for me?” he asks.

you deflate a little, dreading the small chance that your next words will result in an underwhleming reaction from him. “well yeah, sorry if it’s weird, i just wanted to do something nice since you offered to accompany me even though you would just be sitting in your chair for two hou—” he cuts off your anxious rambling with a strong kiss to your lips, followed by both of his palms covering the sides of your face to pull you impossibly closer. you gasp from the sudden movement, and just as you close your eyes to reciprocate, your boyfriend pulls back to show you the prettiest smile you have ever seen on his face.

“i guess you like them.” you sheepishly respond, holding back a smile equally as large.

he just replies by peppering your tanned skin with tangerine flavored kisses, each peck accompanied with the words “i love you, i love you so much”.

you and jongseob finally step out of the salon hand in hand, the cool air blowing onto your faces as you squeeze your interlocked fingers. jongseob presses on the pedestrian call button with one hand as you both anticipate the streetlamp to shift to green. you fill the comfortable silence with giggles and the occasional kiss to the cheek the entire commute to the subway, uncaring of prolonged glances from onlookers. words are only spoken an hour later when you’ve finally enter the warmth of his (and practically your) bedroom. jongseob turns towards you this time, clearly not as timid as he was hours before, smirking while pronouncing,

“in case you were still wondering, that offer from my text earlier still stands…”

it’s your turn to roll your eyes and shut him up, tugging him roughly towards you with the front of his stupid hoodie as your mouths connect with an urgency you’ve never felt before, the pair of you hurriedly falling on top of his bed as your nails make contact with his scalp.

𓇼⋆｡˚

in the quiet of the night, considered by some as early hours of the morning, jongseob holds your bare frame tightly against his own as he strokes his hand along your freckled back. your warm breaths tuck into the small crevices of his chest as your tangerine tinted nails draw hearts lightly into his skin, and with that, the two of you gradually lull into a peaceful slumber, but not before you look up at him and whisper,

“i did it for you.”

a/n: mwahahahahahahahaha it’s finally out.. thank u for being patient!! it was honestly so motivating to see that despite the fact that so many people had never read my writing before, their love for jongseob made them crave this fic soooo much LMFAOO we all are so down bad for this man it’s a bit insane. anyways like i said i haven’t written for years so this was short and a little choppy but i tried my best and hopefully i’ll get better with time ^_^ anyways i’ll be finishing up my next fic soon and then i’ll start working on requests!! thank u for reading, it means a lot to me <3

please do not repost my writing!

tags:

@chuuswifereal @angelcbf @lakoya @zendieya-8 @bambispostsblog @saturnh0ney @theyluvsosa @youresolivlie @woozixo @www90kitsch @sirenla @ihatewreckingballmains @curiousgworge @haileyyey @khfviq @highkeyadumbasslmao @lovebunnys-world @astro-doll-the-star @kyokopi @meowmeowjang @imma-penguin1 @sophia-is-tiny

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#jongseob #jongseob x reader #p1h #p1h jongseob #p1harmony #kpop writers #p1harmony x reader #kim jongseob #piwon #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony drabbles

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trivia-yandere · 10 months

Text

two sentence horror story

you ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded. masterlist | @darkuni63 | @momnomnom | @sweetempathprunetree |

writer: quae (explicit-tae)

word count: 4.284

warning: disturbing scenes, reader is taken, reader makes a dumb decision - don't be like reader, aphrodisiac intake, dubcon/noncon scenes, erotic massages, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, impregnation kink, creampie,

You ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.

You take a deep breath, massaging your temples. You were going to explode if you didn’t get out of here - your desk at the office. The workload your boss had slammed onto your desk didn’t match up with your schedule out of work. How were you expected to run errands after? You could barely manage to eat lunch some days and opted to not even leave your desk to do so.

“Doing another double?”

You stopped massaging your temples to turn towards Irina. She has a sympathetic look on her face.

Nodding your head, Irina nods. “Same.” she groans. “It’s like they think we’re robots.”

“Tell me about it.”

Irina was your desk neighbor, only being a few feet away and separated by a makeshift wall. She isn’t tall in the slightest but her heels make the majority of her height. She has dyed ginger hair that she often places in a low ponytail and the brightest hazel eyes you’re ever seen. She stands over the wall to speak with you.

“Maybe you need a break.” Irina wiggles her brows. “For a few days. Take PTO.”

You’re unsure, and Irina senses this.

“I was just like you last week.” Irina says. “Bags under my eyes and all. But you see how refreshed I am after my break.”

Irina had a point. She smiled more and had a glow that could only appear when one was out of work - paid at that. You assumed she got the much needed rest and maybe even hit up a spa - you never asked, not one to ever pry.

“I’m not really sure.” you trail off. You had PTO, but only ever used it for holidays and your birthday, and even then it wasn’t as if you did anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you single?” Irina asks in a hushed whisper. The question is odd. She never pried into your life before.

Slowly, you nod.

Irina’s lips curled into a sly smirk.

“I know exactly what you need, Y/N.” Irina backs away and you can hear her at her desk, rummaging around. Her heels click against the floor as she comes to your desk. She places down a small, rectangular card. “A massage.”

“A massage?” you snort. You read the words on the card and hum.

“Between you and me,” Irina starts, whispering once more. “It’s an erotic massage.”

It takes you a few moments to get where Irina was coming from.

“O-Oh.” you’re embarrassed and unsure what to say.

“Maybe you just need to relax.” Irina giggles. “You know. Have an attractive man massage you…” Irina trails off. She’s unsure if she should continue or if that would be going too far. “Just think about it and let me know. First time is half off!”

You think about Irina’s words the entire day and when you’re home soaking in your bath, you decide to check out the website.

The website was official, but you needed a code to get in. Irina had sent you one once you asked about it, excited that you were checking into it.

The website had pictures and videos of said “erotic massages” and you were sure that it was just amateur porn. But you’d admit, the way the men - and even women if that was what visitors were into - massaged their clients, it appeared to be amazing.

You pondered if that was what you needed. A good massage (and a good fuck). But wasn’t that paying for sex? You haven’t paid for sex before (of course) and you’re unsure how this works.

Reading the website, you are greeted with many pictures of men with their names and important details about them - even STD screenings if you were going to engage sexually with them.

“So, did you book a massage?” Irina asks you the following day, giddy and excited to hear your thoughts.

You shake your head. “It’s all…so new to me.” you admit.

Irina nods her head in agreement. She understood completely.

“But I’m not…against it. Is that crazy?” “Of course not!” Irina exclaims. “We all need a good orgasm. You’ll come back good as new afterwards.”

You feel yourself grow hot. “How many bookings did you do?”

“Five days out of the 7 I was off.” Irina cackles. “It was amazing. If you’re interested in sex, you get to pick your poison.”

“Excuse me?” you raise a brow.

Pick your poison.

Your eyes scanned the hundreds of categories displayed in front of you.

Bound.

Gag.

Anal play.

You exhale.

What in the world were you about to get yourself into?

Picking your poison was harder than you’d expect. You weren’t an avid porn watcher, but when you did to get yourself off, there were a few things you’d be willing to try - and a ton that you weren’t.

It took you a few days to even start your own application process. Something about this felt off - wrong. You were technically paying for sex and it makes you feel desperate. You’ve busied yourself with work that finding a partner or even a hookup is difficult. You wouldn’t never thought about paying for an erotic massage to get your mind off of work and destress yourself.

But, you were also too far in. You’ve made an account, browsed through several videos and pictures of said massages and even searched through potential masseurs.

Your PTO was approved. You had to go through countless documents before your boss would even consider, but you were approved nonetheless and you were excited. You were jittery finishing the last document, the thought of you getting off and picking your masseur.

“You finished early.” Irina’s voice sounds besides you as you’re strolling out of the office. She has a knowing smirk on her lips, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Have you picked your masseur?”

You shake your head.

“That’s okay.” Irina waves off. “It took me a whole day to decide. As long as you pick your poison, it’d be better to find your masseur.”

You swallow. You indeed had picked your poison and it filtered through hundreds of masseurs and masseuses who experienced doing so.

Irina suddenly stops walking as you reach the parking garage. She turns to you. “Don’t back down.” she says and you’re confused by her sudden change of tone. “You got this. Just relax and enjoy your mini vacation.”

You nod your head with a slight gulp. “I’ll try.” Your voice is low and meek and Irina only offers a smile and a short wave before she makes her way to her car.

Your mind replays Irina’s words.

Don’t back down.

You got this.

It was your first day of your vacation and you’ve spent hours scouting through profiles of masseurs. You were sure that you weren’t a picky person - but no one has caught your eye. You contemplated giving up countless times, but you were determined. You needed this - a get away from reality.

A notification sounds through your laptop and you’re taken aback. On the right top corner of the screen shows a little message. You click it and a tab pops up. It appears to be a livechat with the service.

Still deciding on a masseur?

You re-read the message and groan. You type back a response.

Yes.

Three dots are forming onto the bottom of the chat and you await a response.

If you’d like, we can send recommendations.

Or…

Your eyes wait in anticipation for the next response. Or what?

We can open your profile for masseurs to find. You would be met with masseurs in your area who fit your poison categories.

Would you be interested?

You gulp. Having the masseurs message instead of doing it yourself appeared to be easier. You were an indecisive person after all - maybe if your options were limited then it would make your decision easier.

Yes, please.

The following day you awoke like normal. You showered, ate and got ready to go back onto the site. You were expecting only a few messages from masseurs - not hundreds. Your eyes are wide as you scour through the messages and profile pictures of the men.

Now you were left more indecisive than before.

Another notification sounds on your laptop and you’re expecting it to be the livechat but it wasn’t.

“Taehyung.” your lips murmur out the name of the masseur messaging you.

The man was attractive. He appeared tall with dark hair and the same dark eyes. In the pictures displayed, he showed countless pictures all from headshots to body.

The lip ring paired with hydrated lips are what catches your eyes instantly, the sleeve of tattoos are next. His smile was addictive and it reminded you of a bunny.

Your mind was set - Jungkook was going to be your masseur.

Taehyung’s prices were lower than the others and you contemplated why, but you wouldn’t complain.

You submitted your own STD screening after you acquired Taehyung’s paired with a driver's license and a masseur’s certificate.

All that was left to do was speak with Taehyung. Your nerves were getting at you - this man would eventually see you naked. He was hot - insanely so. How many times had he himself done this?

You were suddenly getting second thoughts about this.

Irina’s words replayed in your head.

You got this.

You inhale deeply. “I got this.” you say to yourself.

You anticipated the phone to ring any moment now, and when it had you instantly grasped it and answered. You mentally slapped yourself at appearing so desperate for a man’s attention.

“H-Hello.”

“Hello.”

Taehyung’s voice is deep and smooth. Your legs shake at just the sound of it.

“Hi.” is all you could muster out and a laugh is heard on the other side of the phone.

“Hi.” Taehyung repeats. “You’re Y/N, I assume.”

You nod without realizing. “Yes.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Over the phone, at least. I’m Taehyung.” Your mind flashes with Taehyung and how he looks right now.

You and Taehyung speak for over a half an hour - speaking business and detailing what you’d be doing while with him. He had gone over your poison - much to your dismay - and agreed that they were mild compared to the rest of the categories.

“One of your poison picking was to be blind folded.” Taehyung murmurs. “That’s what we would start with when you come. I will be sending you my address shortly and you’ll be greeted upon arrival. I’ll pass you what you’ll need.”

You listen to Taehyung speak.

“You are familiar with erotic massages, right?”

“Only with what I see on the site.” you curse at how uneducated you were.

Taehyung chuckles. “Cute.” he murmurs. “You’ll be naked, of course. I’ll place a robe and your blindfold in the dressing room.”

“Okay.” you respond, cheeks flushed.

“I can’t wait to meet you, Y/N.”

The following evening you were a wreck. You’ve showered, scrubbing any inch of dirt off your skin. You lightly lotioned your body, your mind recalling that the masseur would be rubbing oil onto you. You combed your hair and placed it into a low bun and when it was time for you to go, you did several takes in the mirror to assure you were presentable.

The address he sent you wasn’t far and when you arrived you were surprised to find that it appeared to be a business - more like a convenient store in size. The windows are large, but not see through. You can see your reflection as you stroll towards the door.

The door sounds as you enter the small shop. The floors are hardwood and the walls were a light color. In front of you sat a large desk with a computer on the other side - you assumed a receptionist desk. You’re anxious for what's to come when a door to your right opens and Taehyung comes out. He’s wearing a tight fitted dark shirt with a collar and slacks.

“Y/L Y/N?” Taehyung asks with a bright smile, bunny teeth on display. His voice was different in person. “I’m Taehyung.” he bows slightly and offers you his hand to take, and when you do he gently kisses it. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise.” you murmur softly, starstruck by the man's beauty and charisma.

“If you would like to follow me.” Taehyung closes the door behind him and passes you around the receptionist desk. “Back here is where we’d be for the day.”

You follow closely past two sliding doors. It opens to reveal a large room. The room is slightly darker than the previous one and you assume it was to fit the vibe. One wall is fully stocked with mirrors while the one forward had a dark crimson color. In the middle of the room sat one medium size massage bed and on top of it, one robe, a towel and a blindfold.

“I’ll leave to allow you to get undressed. The robe is optional if you are not yet comfortable with starting the massage. If you are, you can get undressed and place the towel on you.”

“Okay.” you nod your head.

Taehyung leaves and you take a deep breath. There was no backing down now. You had already paid your deposit for your appointment and now you are here.

You begin to undress yourself, placing your folded clothes neatly on a nearby chair. You grasped the towel and wrapped your body with it and laid upon the massage bed.

A knock sounds a couple of minutes later and Taehyung enters once more.

“Are you feeling alright?” Taehyung asks. He’s holding a cup in his hands. “I got you some tea. It should help with your nerves.”

You grasp the warm tea being placed in your hands. You nod at his question before sipping the tea. It was delicious and you could taste the mixed fruit infused with it.

Taehyung takes the cup of tea once you are finished with it and he places it down on a nearby table. He faces you. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” you say with a gulp.

You lay back onto the massage bed, chest against it and you cross your arms to rest your head. You feel your towel gently be removed from your body and a gush of cold air greets you.

You hum slowly once you feel Taehyung’s large hands begin to rub and tug against your back, rising up to your neck and falling back all the way down your spine and to your lower back.

“You must work so hard.” Taehyung notes. “You have a lot of knots.”

You hum in agreement. Your anxiousness and worry were slowly fading as time passes. The massage is amazing and you feel as though you could kiss Irina for recommending you such a sight.

“I’m going to put the blindfold on now, alright?” Taehyung says suddenly and you nearly forgot about your poisons.

You nod without hesitation and your head is lifted slightly so that the blindfold can wrap around you. It’s tight, but it doesn’t bother you.

“I’m going to step out to grab the rest of the supplies needed for your massage.”

You hear the door open and footsteps sound. It closes a few minutes later and you feel Taehyung’s presence inside the room.

“She’s ready.” Jungkook murmurs to Taehyung who is standing outside the room, a box of sex toys ready for your massage. “Don’t have too much fun.” Jungkook calls from down the hall.

“I’ll try not to.” Taehyung whispers low to himself.

Taehyung places the box of toys down onto a table and marvels at your naked body.

“Are you ready?” Taehyung’s voice is low, raspy and deep. You gulp and nod your head.

Taehyung places a hand along your backside until he’s touching your ass. He rubs it, already placing the oil onto it.

The sounds of your sweet moans are already sending him over the edge. He’s hard and wishes he could have you the way he wants. But Taehyung was a patient man. He waited this long to have you. Paying Irina possibly cost him more than it should and displaying Jungkook’s pictures on the website to assure you didn’t know his identity was risky - but worth it if it meant he could have you.

Taehyung’s fingers fall dangerously close to your clit as he rubs your ass and you whimper at the closeness. It would be a matter of time until you’re a complete and utter mess thanks to the aphrodisiac Jungkook has made for you.

You release a high groan when Taehyung presses a thumb onto your clit. He rubs gently at first and you’re arching your back to get more impact.

Your hole is teasing him, pulsing for him to enter his fingers inside of you - so he does. He enters two at first to stretch you out.

You feel amazing - more than you usually do during sex. You tell yourself it’s because you haven't had an actual man pleasure you in a while and there's only so much a vibrator can do.

Taehyung fucks his fingers inside of you. You moan loudly, unable to control them any longer.

Taehyung encourages you to arch your back so he can have deeper access by wrapping a free arm beneath your stomach to arch you forward.

“You’re so wet.” Taehyung groans. He removes his fingers to place them inside his mouth and he himself moans at how amazing you taste.

Taehyung enters his fingers back inside of you and continues to pump. He lowers himself to your ear, enjoying the way you moan so sweetly for him.

You feel Taehyung release you just to flip you over onto your back. You’re trembling still and your pussy throbs, missing the way Taehyung’s fingers felt inside of it.

Taehyung presses a soft kiss against your cheeks before his lips touch yours. The feeling is amazing, no matter how intimate it felt. You speculate that it was a part of his job - to pleasure you in all ways he could. You hadn’t cared in the slightest.

Taehyung loves the way your lips taste and he wants to savor the taste, but he’s sure he has more than enough time to. He trails kisses down your neck to your chest and he couldn’t help but flick his tongue against your nipple.

Taehyung gropes both of your breasts, massaging as his tongue wraps around your nipple fully and he suckles on it. You’re moaning loudly and breathing heavily at the feeling. Your mind is drifting away from any anxiety you felt - almost as if it was never present to begin with. Your body feels hot and amazing thanks to Taehyung.

Taehyung trails his right hand between your legs, slapping your inner thighs to allow him access. He rubs your clit rapidly, suckling on your breast as if his life depended on it.

You squeeze your eyes shut - not as if you could see regardless - and your body feels hot. Your stomach churns and you’re shaking your head side to side.

“You’re about to cum.” Taehyung chuckles darkly against your nipples. He licks it one last time before lifting himself up. He continues to fuck his fingers inside of you, eyes watching intently the way your pussy gushes out your juices onto the massage bed.

You flinch just as Taehyug removes his fingers from inside of you.

Taehyung isn’t upset that you’ve squirted and managed to make a mess of yourself - it’s exactly what he wanted.

“We’re not done, baby.” Taehyung says and you shiver at the pet name.

Taehyung needed to taste you before he could fuck you. He rounds the massage bed and lowers himself to your legs, already wide and inviting.

Taehyung licks along your clit and he grunts. He nods his head from side to side, fingers firmly gripped on your thighs to assure you do not move.

You were overstimulated and going crazy. You’ve already came once, but Taehyung was determined to make you cum again - and again until you’re begging him to stop.

Taehyung’s glad he got you in his grasp; so glad and excited that he would be able to eat you out everyday. You would never leave his side again.

“It feels so good.” your words appear slurred but you couldn’t help yourself.

Taehyung watches your face, your lips are opening and closing and a few times even being bitten by your teeth. He’s positive you’re overwhelmed with pleasure - you worked so hard everyday and you never had the chance to ever relax.

But now Taehyung has entered your life and you no longer need to work.

Just as Taehyung felt like you were going to cum - due to your heavy breathing and loud moaning, he removes his tongue from your clit and he slaps it.

“I’m going to fuck you.” Taehyung states. His initial plan was to pleasure you, using all of your kinks you displayed on your profile. But you and he had eternity together so he would always get the chance to another time.

Taehyung removes his pants and underwear in a swift movement. He always fantasized what your pussy would feel like and now he would finally get the chance to.

Taehyung releases a long groan as he enters you. Your pussy was amazing - so wet and tight just for him. He wants to go easy on you knowing that you hadn’t had sex in such a long time, but he can’t. He’s uncontrollable, fucking into you at such a brutal paced that the massage bed is screeching against the floor.

Your breast are bouncing as Taehyung fucks you. Your head is thrown back and your mind is swirling. The sensation never feels enough - you never felt like this before. Even with the amount of times you managed to cum, you could never get enough.

Were you this stressed? This cock-hungry?

You’re unsure how long Taehyung fucks you. It’s as though you completely black out.

You get flipped onto your front and he fucks into you at the same brutal pace, slapping your ass hard until it bruises. He wraps a hand around your neck as he does so and whispers filthy words into your ears, but your mind doesn’t allow you to fully comprehend what he’s saying.

You’re so far gone and fucked out that Taehyung isn’t sure you’ll remember the amazing feeling you are experiencing - but you and he had eternity together.

Taehyung flips you so that you are on top of him, yet you have no control. You came three more times and Taehyung twice, yet the both of you were insatiable. You would be sore the following day, but it's alright. This is what you came for in the end - to be wrecked by him and him only.

Taehyung groans, fingernails digging into the skin of your hip. Your arms are wrapped around him as he drills inside of you. Your tears are stained to your cheeks - tears of pure joy and pleasure. He was going to cum again - inside of you like he had before. He ponders what you’d look like swollen with his child - round and healthy with enlarged breast to nurse his child.

Taehyung grunts. “So beautiful.” he compliments, sending a kiss onto your shoulder. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Your eyes widened when you managed to escape out of the small window. Your hands and knees are bleeding - having been scrapped against the broken glass. You run and run, never stopping. Your legs want to give out and your lungs ache for air, but you cannot stop now.

You’re unsure how long you’ve been gone for, trapped in the dark room by Taehyung.

Months?

Were people looking for you?

You hadn’t been outside since the day you arrived at your appointment - a day you regret greatly. You awoke bound to and blindfolded by Taehyung, him assuring he would unbind you as soon as he could trust you - and he never had. Each day you endured whatever the man wanted to give - your mind refusing to believe this was your reality.

You’re unsure how you managed to escape, but you don’t dwell on it. The freedom you feel now is overwhelming. You begin to cry, the tears blurring your vision.

Your feet reach a road and you finally manage to stop. You fall to your knees, heaving for any bit of air your lungs are willing to give you.

Lights shine on you and your hands lift to cover your eyes.

A car was coming.

A car.

You ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.

The man's eyes are wide when he rolls down his window and says. “How did you get out, baby?”

Your eyes widen to match his in pure horror as you recognize the voice - the same one belonging to the kidnapper you escaped from.

Taehyung.

You shake your head, paralyzed with fear. This wasn't the man you met for your appointment, but you'd never forget that voice.

Your feet turn to run away, but you feel arms wrap around you. You're yanked off of your feet and into the large car. You scream for help - any help that you can find, but you aren't saved.

Taehyung enters the car and shakes his head. Your wrist are bleeding and he's sure you fought long and hard to get your hands out of the cuffs. "To think I was about to take the cuffs and the blindfold off for your good behavior." he tsks, locking the door and speeding down the road.

#bts yandere #bts smut #btswritingcafe #yandere bts #two sentence horror story #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung yandere #bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #trivia-yandere #btsmasterlist2023 #bts fanfic #bts masterlist #bts imagines #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 4 months

Note

Travis request

Travis having to carry reader. Like she’s hurt, feet hurt and has to walk barefoot, or carried just playfully

High Heels

Warning: Smut, language

You really wished you weren't so stubborn sometimes. Usually, it worked in your favor, but tonight, as you were forced to walk to your place in your five inch Mach & Mach heels that you just had to have, your feet were cursing your name with every step.

Travis walked a few feet in front of you down the sidewalk with a heavy stride, his suit jacket draped over his shoulder, as you hobbled behind him, contemplating taking your shoes off and walking on the filthy ground.

"When are you just gonna admit you can't walk in those shoes, baby?", he chuckled, throwing his voice behind him, drawing out your pet name as he spoke; his midwestern accent always came out when he'd had a couple of drinks. The two of you were leaving the Chiefs annual Christmas party, and while Travis suggested you grab an Uber to travel the couple of blocks to your apartment in downtown Kansas City because he knew your feet were hurting, you immediately declined, unwilling to admit defeat.

"I'm fine", you gritted out between clenched teeth, pain evident in your voice.

"Yeah, you sound like it."

You flipped him off, letting out a groan when you tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. "Ow! For fucks sake", you mumbled under your breath. Travis turned around to see if you were hurt, but the only thing damaged was your pride. "C'mon, baby. Let me help you."

You waved him off with a scowl on your face. "Just go, I don't need your help."

"Oh really?" He took a swipe at the clutch in your hand, making it clatter across the ground. "Why would you do that?", you whined, struggling to take another step to pick up your handbag. "Just to mess with you", Travis shrugged with a cocky grin, "and to prove a point."

"Yeah, you owe me a new handbag." You took a deep breath, just the thought of walking a second more agonizing. "Fine! Will you help me?"

"I thought you'd never ask." He bent down to help you take off your shoes, but you stopped him. "I am not walking on the nasty concrete."

"Ok", Travis rose stood back up, letting out a huff as he placed his jacket over your shoulders. In one quick movement he had you in his arms in a bridal carry, your arm loosely draped over his shoulders. He let out a playful grunt as he took his first step, earning a scoff from you. "I'm not that heavy!"

"Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself." He let out another groan, knowing it would set you off. "Ya know what? Put me down, I'll crawl the rest of the way there", you said with a slap to his chest. "I'm just kidding. I'm just kidding", Travis admitted as you finally reached your building.

You let out a squeal when he effortlessly shifted to throw you over his shoulder as he opened the door and walked to the elevator. "Travis, do not drop me", you warned, making Travis laugh. "I wasn't thinking about it until you said something, but now..."

"Travis Michael Kelce, if you drop me, you're sleeping on the couch tonight."

"Is that any way to talk your wonderful husband who literally carried you a few blocks tonight?"

"Try me if you want to." You punctuated your threat with a hiccup, all of the blood rushing to your head. You held on tight to his bicep as he walked down the hallway, hearing his key slip into the front door, and the light switch flip on as you entered the kitchen.

"Ok, let me down, please!", you called out, trying to push yourself up to no avail. Travis ignored your command, giving you a playful slap on the butt as he carried you to the bedroom, carefully dropping on the bed with a huff. "You're welcome." He moved to the closet as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Travis?" You called out in your sweetest voice. "What baby?"

"Can you help me take my shoes off?" You could have probably done it yourself, but you enjoyed when Travis doted on you. He emerged from the closet shirtless, his pectoral muscles flexing as he moved toward you, his belt unbuckled and slung low around his waist. You didn't even need a glass of champagne to be turned on by the sight of Travis' toned body, but it certainly heightened all of your senses.

Your core twitched as he grabbed at your ankle, pressing a harmless kiss to your calf before he undid the first strap. You pressed the sole of your other heel against his chest, pressing the heel into his skin ever so slightly, making the skirt of your dress bunch up at your hips.

"Really?", Travis' voice was gruff as he noticed you weren't wearing any panties, your core already glistening with your wetness. "I didn't want any panty lines underneath my dress tonight", you coyly explained with a shrug, spreading your legs a little wider so he had a perfect view of your pussy. "You're enjoying this aren't you?" His erection began to press against his zipper as he watched you lick two of you fingers and slowly drag them through your folds, your index finger pressing against your clit, making you shiver.

"Enjoying what?" You bite at your bottom lip.

"The heels" he lifts one of your legs up, showing off your very expensive stilettoes, "the dress", he nodded to wear your dress was now laying haphardly on the ground. "Its all just a little too obvious, ya know?" Travis let out a dark chuckle as he pulled his belt from the loops, dropping it on the ground. Two years of marriage behind you, and he still had to work overtime not to bend you over in a public places at his will, you always looked so good, so it was almost unfair how much you teased him when the two of you were alone, just knowing it drove him wild.

"That was just for the party. I don't have to work overtime to get you. You're already mine." Travis nodded, biting at his bottom lip. "All day, baby. And twice on Sunday."

"Are you just gonna stand here?", you giggled, his eyes glazing over with lust as he moved to hover over you, his large hands framing your face as you locked lips. His hands were roaming every inch of your body, his mouth tracing the line of your collar bone with wet kisses before he helped you get your dress off over your head, exposing your breasts to the cold of the room.

"Fuck, Travis", you let out a sharp breath as he latched on your nipple, your hands raking through his scalp. You welcomed his body weight as he collapsed on top of you, and you could feel how hard he was as his cock pressed against your lower stomach. You ground your hips against his pelvis, making him groan out, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Why are you in such a rush?", he chuckled, raising up to look at you.

"You act like I'm the only one whose a big tease in this relationship." You glanced down at his crotch before looking back at him. "I don't wanna play any games tonight." Travis grabbed at your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You felt his hot breath tickle your inner thigh as he knelt on the ground, his mouth hovering over your throbbing core. You rested your heels on his shoulders as he pressed a gentle kiss to your clit, his tongue flicking to knock at the sensitive bud a couple of times.

You were already a moaning mess, so sensitive to his touch as he drug his tongue through your folds, latching onto you like he was starved for the taste of you. You felt every muscle start to tighten as he ravished you, the sounds of your wetness echoing in the room. It was all too much, the grip he had on your thighs, the softness of his lips against your skin, you felt yourself hurdling toward your orgasm-

"Stop, Travis. Stop, I'm so close", you chest heaved as you spoke, pushing him away, desperate for him to stretch you out with his cock. Travis wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he got up, pressing a knee into the mattress between your legs. You hurriedly helped him take his pants and boxers off, his cock springing free from the band of his underwear and resting against his abs.

"My shoes- take off my shoes", you were desperately trying to hold onto your orgasm, feeling it slip away. "The shoes stay on", Travis grumbled, playfully biting you on the inner thigh. He threw your legs over his shoulders again, this time lifting your hips to place a pillow under your bottom.

You sighed as he pushed himself slowly into you, bottoming out inside of you before he started to move his hips, each stroke pushing over your g-spot, your cushiony walls clenching around him tightly. Instantly, Travis was already working against his internal clock, knowing he wasn't going to last with how wet and warm you felt, his jaw flexing as he tried to hold back.

"Fuck, please go slow." You begged, the mixture of pleasure and overstimulation rushing over your entire body, feeling every inch of him each time he disappeared into your pussy, your legs held together above your head. Travis moaned, "Fuck, babe", his words slurring as if he was drunk, even though he'd only nursed a few beers all night. He tried to focus on other parts of your body as he quickened his pace, the way your face contorted with pleasure at each movement, but the sight of your mouth hanging slightly agape, your lips forming an 'o', only made it harder. You quickly got used to the motions, feeling the warmth pool in your lower stomach.

"Travis, baby", your hands were gripping the sheets, the fabric bundled so tightly in your fists you thought you'd rip them. "What do you need, baby?", he asked, his cock twitching at the sound of your whines, your hips grinding against him, desperate to build some friction. "Tell me what you need, baby", Travis tried to get your attention, holding your hips in place as he drilled into you, but you were silent, unable to speak even if you wanted to, too cock drunk to say anything, and he was only getting started.

He knew your body, studied it closely, knew what made you tick and what sent you over the edge, so as he saw your writhing underneath him, he knew you were close, and you didn't even need to say a word.

You squealed as he stopped, pulling your legs down and wrapping them around his waist, his large body hovering over you as he continued his pace, his thumb laid flat against your clit, drawing teasing circles around it. You were so overwhelmed you could barely hear his praises for you as he whispered in your ear. "Such a good girl. Always such a good girl for me."

You were unraveling, a complete mess as you felt every inch of your body tense up before the sweetest release, a wave of pleasure washing over your body repeatedly, from your fingertips to your toes. He continued to press his fingers against your clit so you could ride your high as long as possible.

Travis' strokes were faltering as he felt himself close to his own orgasm, and with three final pumps, he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as you milked every bit of his release out of him. The room was filled with pants and groans as he settled on top of you, his beard scratchy against your cheek as he kissed your neck.

"Fuck, that was-", you giggled as Travis rolled off of you, his hands never leaving your body. "Yeah", you agreed with a nod, closing your eyes.

"Its always that good, right?" Sex with you was always fantastic, but tonight, something was definitely different in the best way possible, he just couldn't put his finger on it. "Don't make me say it", you teased.

"Say what?"

You lifted your legs in the air, the rhinestones on your heels shining in the light.

"Oh my god. Please, it wasn't those expensive ass, painful shoes." Travis rolled his eyes, slapping at his bare chest.

"It was the only thing we did different, Travis", you teased, pulling your self close to him and placing a messy kiss on his lips.

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jasmines-library · 4 months

Text

Anonymous said:

Live for your writing <3 I’ve read the batfam and I am quite literally obsessed

Could I ask for a piece about the batboys comforting batsis reader because she had/is having a panic attack? thank you so much!!! :D

Fight or Flight

Note: Hello lovely anon! I'm so glad you like my writing. You absolutely can, I hope you enjoy. Also I’m so sorry but I lost the original ask as my tumblr was acting up and I forgot to add tags the first time.

Warnings: Panic attacks, hurt/comfort kinda.

Word Count: 1k (short but sweet)

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

You had been feeling off all week. Not only was it Gotham’s busiest time of the year, which meant that you were constantly on your feet, but you also had a bunch of unfinished assignments to catch up on that were wearing you out. You had stupidly agreed to help Cass finish her assignments on top of your own and the load was becoming overbearing. On top of that, you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you couldn’t do them, which completely added to your stress level as it now meant you had to find the time to finish all of the paperwork.

You were still feeling overwhelmed as you suited up for patrol. You were out with your four brothers and you knew that the night would be busy. Gotham always was this time of year. The five of you had already stopped a few petty crimes and were making your way through the city. The silence that fell over the five of you allowed your mind to wander and you quickly became worked up over your increasingly large to-do-list and you began to hyperventilate. You just wanted to leave, but you knew you couldn’t. Conflicted, your heart began to beat faster and faster and your breathing got shallow and shallower like someone was cutting off your supply and-

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest was rising and falling in quick, sharp breaths as you tried to take in air that refused to come. Ridden with panic your body was completely tense as you fell behind your brothers, stopping in your tracks to clutch as your constricting chest. Trying to blink away the flood of tears that just fell heavier, you leaned against the wall. This only made you panic more as you knew that you needed to keep going with the patrol.

Dick had noticed that you had fallen behind. His trained ears noticed the absence of your light and smaller paced steps that contrasted against his and his brothers. He slowed his pace as he glanced behind him to try and spot you. The vigilantes eyes widened when he saw you clutching your chest and leaning desperately against the wall and for a heart-wrenching moment he thought that you had been injured. Turning on his heel he sprinted back toward you alerting your brothers who all followed quickly after seeing the cause of Dick’s sudden change in demeanour.

When they reached you, after what felt like too long but was actually only a matter of seconds covered by long strides, Tim was quick to search you for injury only to come back looking confused with his eyebrows turned down when he found you seemingly unscathed.

“What’s the matter, kid?” He asked frantically “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and tried to give him an answer but all that came out was a ragged sob as you continued to clutch at your chest. Your heart pounded in your chest as you shook, surrounded by your brothers, and suddenly Damian clocked what was happening.

“She’s having a panic attack.”

You nodded somewhat recognisably as your brother's high alert switched off somewhat. Jason took your hands gently, moving them away from your suit that you were clutching and held them gently in his. He then eased you to the floor and crouched in front of you.

“Hey, Y/N/N. Look at me. You’re okay.”

The sound of his gentle voice and the feeling of his leather gloves in your hand grounded you somewhat and you managed to get your eyes to stop looking around sporadically and to focus on him.

“Good. Now deep breaths.” He moved your hand so that it rested over his chest to allow you to feel his steady rhythm.

“In and out, Little Wing. Follow Hood.” Dick added. He was still hovering over you anxiously as Jason tried to calm you down.

As you followed your brother's breathing, you found yours gradually slowing until it somewhat was back to normal.

Damian made his way over and sat down beside you to offer you some comfort. You were feeling slightly dizzy, and noticing he signalled for Dick to grab you some water from his pack. Damian took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re okay, sis.”

You sniffled, wiping away the last of your onslaught of tears. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Little Wing.” Tim told you. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” Dick added. “I’ve totally freaked out during a mission before. We all have. In fact, just last week Damian-”

“Tt. We don’t need to talk about that.” Damian chided, rolling his eyes.

There was a moment of tender silence as you regained your composure before Jason asked:

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged at them, bringing your knees to your chest. “I don’t really know what happened… I guess I’ve just had a bad feeling about tonight and I’ve been so stressed about all of my assignments I still need to write up. I guess it just all caught up to me at the wrong time.”

“Oh kid. I’m sorry none of us have been around to help. We’ve been so caught up in our own stuff that we’ve failed to notice that you might need help too.” Dick told you.

“How about we get you home so you can relax? Hm?”

“But…what about patrol?” You asked, voice raising an octave as you began to panic a little again “We can’t just miss it!”

“Bruce will understand.” Tim reassured you.

“And we’ll help you finish your assignments.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You protested.

“We’re your brothers, kiddo. It’s what we’re here for.”

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iwaasfairy · 1 year

Text

┌─ “ ! „ ADORE L'AMOUR

tw. noncon/dubcon, implied yandere, forced emotional cheating, virginity, service dom, coercion/manipulation, corruption kink, size kink, creampie, service dom! tsumu, degradation and praise wordcount. 5.5k

a/n. commissioned by a lovely person who wanted to stay anonymous, thank you so much for commissioning me and trusting me with your story, and i really really hope it delivers and you enjoy!!! this is kinda softer than my usual stuff but also still read the tws pretty please ♡♡♡ ya and ty and enJOYyy some tsumu

miya atsumu x fem!reader

“Come up, will ya?” he smiles, grabbing your hand and swinging the interlaced pair back and forth. You can’t help but have to bite back a tiny smile at the way his rougher hand links into yours, and butterflies still erupt any time his hazel eyes find you.

“Shin, I-” you sigh back, before quietly chuckling as he heaves you up onto the bleachers and tugs you along to slide in right next to the familiar face. Aran rolls his eyes, but you can tell that there’s too much fondness in his look to seriously mind the lovey-dovey shit— and really, you can’t help it.

Any girl your age would be expected to go all heart eyes when their boyfriend looks at them that way. “Happy now?” you ask as you’re pushed between Aran and the escape to the outside fresh air, void of all the sweaty teen musk and squeaking sneakers, and Shinsuke smiles ever so slightly at the sight.

“Yes, I am. Keep our long-suffering ace company for a bit while he patches up his ankle, won’t ya?” He’s already escaping down from the stands with the knowledge that you will, because if nothing else, you love watching the guys play. You’ve loved watching Shinsuke play ever since middle school, and Aran’s expression gives you the idea that he knows this too. Because he simply shrugs, and re-wraps the ice pack a little better around that wounded ankle.

“Aye aye, Captain,” you shoot back as he makes his way back to the court, and this time, he gives you that wonderfully cheeky smile that made you fall head-over-heels in the first place. “And you, you’re a third year. You’re supposed to be one of the responsible ones.” You give the tall ace to your side a side-eye as he laughs full and loud, and nods.

“Sorry, Mrs. Kita. It won’t happen again.” Practice continues for another half an hour in peace, as you joke around with your boyfriend’s best friend for a while, tossing the occasional stray ball back onto the court, but mainly, just watching the guys play. You didn’t use to have such a love for the sport. When you were a ball-girl back in middle school, you only did it because it was an easy extra grade on your report card, and kept you sort of busy during hours you wouldn’t have anything else to do.

But now, sometimes it seems as much your life blood as it is theirs. You probably wouldn’t have developed such a crush on the quiet, well-spoken boy with the fluffy tufts of hair that flopped about if you hadn’t kept with it, wouldn’t have dated him, wouldn’t have laid in the dark talking about what your life together might look like. Watched Shin grow into the person he is today.

You smile and wave as Shinsuke looks up at you yet again and throws back a wink, and a few of the guys follow his gaze. Familiar lazy gazes of differing shades of brown. But they stay quiet, for now, and the team captain claps his hands to call for a break. And the lankiest of your middle blockers groans and reaches for a bench too quickly, as everyone disperses. Aran makes his way down the stands for the toilet, Ginjima follows suit, and your boyfriend goes through the trouble to start collecting the balls with the same single-minded focus he always has while practicing. But before you can so much as manage to make it down the stairs to help him out, a familiar figure comes up beside you.

“Captain’s got it, I think,” Atsumu smiles as he comes to walk beside you, not the slightest bit winded despite having jogged up to you after an hour of intensive training— and blinks down at you with the self-assured grin you’ve come to expect of the star setter. “Yer still comin’ to our practices, huh?”

“Yes, Miya. Believe it or not, I actually like watching you guys play, ‘m not just here to waste time and gawk.”

“Whoa, doll,” the blond isn’t fazed, and simply throws up his hands in mock-defense, “I wouldn’t dare question the validity of yer visits. I mean, ya brighten up the place, really.” The comfortable way he swings an arm over your shoulder and leans in a little isn’t too far out of how he usually acts, and you do know that Atsumu’s pretty damn touchy with everyone. But his smile, and the way his eyes flick down your face with an almost grating intensity— will never stop feeling flirty- and therefore- inappropriate. Though you try to find something fitting to say, he’s already running his mouth again before you get the chance to.

“Would be even better if ya’d put on a shirt with my name on it and took some cheer classes,” he gloats, and the way he walks leaned into you keeps his face much too close to yours as you go to frown at him, “bet ya’d really suit the Inarizaki colors when you glare like that.” It sets you off, and he knows it does, because he’s dodging the way you go to swing at his arm with a chuckle before you get to, and catches your fist in his hand to squeeze it a little. “Hah, always so mean to me. Getting predictable, pretty girl.”

Your bottom lip is sucked to slot between your teeth, and you roll your eyes, shrugging off the other hand that he tried to ruffle through your hair. “You’re exhausting.”

“Sure is,” Shinsuke suddenly mumbles, tossing a ball at the setter that he manages to catch, before raising a brow. “That’s my girlfriend, Atsumu. If you would, please.”

“Ya got it, Cap’n. Of course,” he chants back with a sing-song-y voice, but his thumb still rubs another few circles into the soft skin of your hand before he goes to annoy Osamu and Suna instead. It sends a cold shiver down your spine, but he’s pulling away before you have the chance to really acknowledge the touch. And if Kita has any concerns about what he just saw, you sure as hell can’t tell, when he pulls you close and places a loving kiss between your brows. But you still have to force yourself to ignore the way Atsumu gives you a once over and -if you didn’t know the guy better than that- undresses you with his eyes.

Graduation should feel a little bittersweet, you guess. The party isn’t too wild, considering, but it’s still loud and a little over the top— so you confine yourself to the area further away from the pounding music and sip reasonably mild drinks while the rest of the team and their plus-ones take their best attempt at rattling Suna’s house off its’ foundations. It’s warm for a spring night, and sweat sticks to the back of your neck and chest from the earlier forced dancing you were pulled into. But now the pool table has been abandoned for the garden, and you take the few quiet moments to breathe.

Most of the guys will be moving on to professional level, a few of them to university, and another few have jobs lined up. Just last year, Shinsuke moved back out to the countryside, and Aran to Tokyo; and while you’ve all tried to keep up communications, distance really does play a big part in it. And now it’s all your turns… It’ll be safe to say you won’t see some of them again much in just a few quick months. The thought already fills you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You don’t get too much rest though, because a flash of blonde followed by an equally handsome, dark-haired copy filter back into the house. Atsumu brightens a little when he spots you, lazy eyes sharper and more calculating in the low light of the house. Of course he does, he seems to have a strange fascination with annoying you to bits.

“Well, pretty girl, ‘ve ya been abandoned by yer human defense robot?” His handsome face paints on a grin, with slightly rosy cheeks and ears, that almost makes him look a few years younger. Almost makes him look innocent. You know better though, and swallow down the want to give back some snarky comment that would surely have you in a battle of wits until someone puts a stop to it. And his twin… isn’t that person. You wonder how much he’s had to drink. Not that you’re doing much better, anyway. You can feel the buzz in your blood and the heat on your face.

Osamu’s hair is messy and fluffier than usual, probably courtesy of the girlfriend he brought and— with a quick glance around the room— has been left on her lonesome somewhere in the partying group outside. You pity her just a little bit, but it doesn’t exactly surprise you that the Miya twins aren’t the most consistent with their affections. The guys started having groupies all the way back in freshman year, and the years have only built upon that fame. The darker haired of the two puts a fist into Atsumu’s shoulder, before crossing his arms. “That’s our last Captain yer talkin’ about, stupid Tsumu. Show some respect.”

“Aw, Samu. I’m sorry, alright.”

You smile softly, and nod your head towards the door. “Not abandoned. He stepped out for a minute for a smoke,” you cut them off, knowing full well they could continue their bickering for hours if left to it. It’s not like you don’t like the twins. They’re obnoxious, and boisterous and hyper at the best of times, but they’re insanely talented too. You would like them, if not for— Atsumu feeling too comfortable hanging his arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a hug, heavy cologne mixed with a scent that is distinctly more him enveloping you as you freeze up. “Miya-”

“‘S gonna be weird without everyone ‘round, huh? I’ll miss ‘em,” he lowers his voice as he keeps your face into his chest, and simply out of a desire not to feel too awkward, you allow your arms to wrap loosely around his back. You give a little motion to be let out of the hug to nod, and smooth your hands down your pants.

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s a sort of glint in Atsumu’s eyes that seems like tenderness as he pats your shoulder, then smiles. “Well, a’least you’ll know me.” Your expression must give away your confusion, because he continues. “Yer goin’ to Tokyo uni, I’m goin’ to Tokyo to check out some of the teams there. It’ll be good. Don’t tell me yer just gonna ignore me when we’re gonna live so close together.”

You don’t think it over- Shinsuke must’ve told him. As the buzz washes over you and the music picks up outside, Atsumu’s large hands find your shoulders and he turns you around towards Osamu, who has already poured three large shots. “Oh, I don’t-”

“Come on~ for prosperity,” Osamu chants, his hand finding yours to unfurl it and place one of the large shot glasses in your hand. And Atsumu nods behind you, basically glittering from excitement. You’re normally a bit more -standoffish, by necessity- but the atmosphere of the night is light. And Tsumu’s hand on your lower back as he pushes you towards one of the chairs and sits you down is nice; even if you only realize a second or two after that he’s sat below you.

“Ya owe me a couple cheers at least,” Atsumu basically coos into your neck as he taps his own glass to yours. “‘Sides, I think Shin went ta go drop off some of the other guys, no need ta wait up for ‘em. Right Samu?”

“That’s what I heard, Tsumu.”

You don’t expect university to be the thing that breaks you, but the distance, the lack of communication, of support— all drag on you. You and Shin both promised to make it work, but he’s busy a lot. The farm keeps him occupied. At least- that’s what you have to assume when most of your messages get read and not answered. It isn’t like Shin, but then again, you suppose it’s a growing period. It’s natural.

More surprising than that is that through it all, Atsumu is there a lot more than you expected. The giant, prestigious sport center where he trains isn’t too far from your campus, but he still goes out of his way to swing by whenever he can to keep you company, which isn’t so self explanatory as you had hoped it would be. It’s not that you don’t make friends, or can’t make friends, it’s just that- after a few weeks- they just seem to vanish off of the face of the earth. Like they were never even there to begin with. You even catch some people purposefully avoiding you on campus as the year goes on.

But the workloads are heavy, and hard, so you sadly don’t have enough time in a day to worry about it as much as you would like to. You still have Atsumu, at least, and as much as you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it shy of a few months ago, his persistence about wanting to be by your side does slowly have you bending just a little.

“I swear it, cross ma little heart,” the blonde dramatically says while walking the grounds with you- on his free day- “am I not the best goddamn setter in the prefecture? What choice is there?” He runs a hand through his hair, then looks over at you to pout. “Make me feel better, c’mon.” Before you can really analyze the moment or how he looks at you with those warm brown eyes and too much fondness, his hand wraps around yours, slipping his fingers between yours with a strange determination.

You stop walking, and your school bag hits your thigh hard because of the abrupt stop. “Atsumu.” You’ve had this conversation with him about a million times. You are with Shinsuke. You have been with Shinsuke since middle school, and though dealing with the distance is hard right now, you promised to try. And he says he understands, and you’re making a big deal out of nothing— but it sure doesn’t seem like he does. “I am d-dating Sh-”

“Ya keep sayin’ yer dating, but where is yer boyfriend? Didn’t ya say he hasn’t been responding to yer messages?” Though he tries to keep his voice down, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and stares like he’ll burn holes through the shape of you. “Ain’t that proof enough?”

“I know Shinsuke, and you know Shinsuke. If he wanted to break up, he would say it.” You puff your chest out a little, and swallow, trying to untangle your hands from his grip. “He’s busy, and this is a transition period for us both, and I just- I want to make it work.” Atsumu seems to cling on for a second longer with a slight kink in his brow, but then he lets go and sighs, rubbing his hands back and forth through his lighter blonde hair with a groan.

“Fine— fine! If ya gotta hear ‘im say it…”

The irony tastes bitter. It stings with every swallow, really.

‘I think it’s not working out. I’m sorry. We should break up.’

You’re staring at the message for the nth time this evening, burying yourself in your cocoon of blankets and an almost empty back of chips yet again. You must’ve breathed it into existence, right? There’s no way around the timing of the message, and the sick way it churns in your stomach. You’re halfway towards another crying fit when Atsumu plops himself down onto your bed and grimaces. “Put that down,” he mumbles, snatching the phone out of your hand despite your glare, “you’ve been cryin’ all fucking evening. You really wanna do more of that?”

“I didn’t ask you to come over,” your voice is a murmur, pinched and sad and tiny, because who wouldn’t be heartbroken at a moment like this. “You just invited yourself in, which- hck- is the worst timing you’ve ever had.”

“But yer glad I’m here. I know ya are.” Whatever. Maybe you’re a little glad for the company, but Atsumu’s flavor of bluntness is really doing a number on you. Instead you reach for a tissue and blow your nose again, and try not to cry yourself to death. “He didn’t treat ya right anyway, don’t lie t’ yerself. Hey- look- look at me, c’mon,” his hands are on your face as he tugs it towards him and stares too deep into your eyes, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones. “No more cryin’ about yer shitty high school crush. Not while I’m here, and I’m yer amazing, incredible support system that yer so very grateful for-” He breaks off in laughter when you have to bite a chuckle back despite your heartache, and try to pull your face out of his touch.

But he lingers, and leans in a little. “What? Am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong, and I- I’m glad you’re here-” It isn’t a lie, but he’s still leaning in, and his face is growing awfully close and it’s- it’s too soon— and you shrink into your cocoon and look away in an attempt to save the situation. Shin broke up with you hours ago. “Atsumu-” you start, only to be cut off as he tugs the blankets down somewhat harshly, and clicks his tongue.

“Stop runnin’. Yer always doing this crap, I’m…” He sighs, and tries to coach you back out with thinly veiled patience. “Am I really so bad to ya? Hm?”

“Of course you’re not.”

He sits back, before patting his lap, and looks at you. In the last light of the sun that falls through your window he’s cast in the prettiest oranges and pinks, and looks almost ethereal to the world. You’re not blind. That was never in question. “Come here.” Despite being conflicted, there’s a glint in his eye that worries you. That if you were to disagree, he’d leave. And you’re not sure you could handle that right about now. As he leads you out of the blankets you notice how cold your room is in just a shirt and some ugly shorts, and Atsumu mumbles something under his breath. “Ya weren’t this shy at graduation, y’know.”

Your frown digs into your face, but his hands settle on your hips as he pulls you in and pushes you down into his lap with a soft hum. “What do you mean- graduation?”

“Just settle down, will ya? Jeez.” Warm hands that slide to the small of your back to force you ever so close to him, your heart basically stuttering out of your ribcage. “Always so damn skittish ‘round me.” You always wondered a little, truthfully. If the way Atsumu’s touches would linger on you was something to worry about, keep an eye on. If you should have been more careful about setting boundaries- and how he looks at you now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he gives you an up and down… it says enough. Too much, even.

And though you admit that your heart is pattering like a hummingbird, there’s a much larger issue here. You love Shinsuke, you want- Shinsuke, p-promised you’d make it work for him— and it's barely been a few hours. You can’t, so you try to find the words to say; but the blond leans down to start pressing kisses down the side of your neck with a soft chuckle. His arms wrap tightly around your back, even though you place a hand on his chest and shake your head. “Tsumu, no. We can’t, I- can’t, let go.”

The noise he makes into the kisses trembles through your skin and seems to reach bone, before he squeezes a little harder to keep you slotted against him. “Yer so pretty, baby. Always were so fuckin’ pretty,” he goes from keeping you in his lap to slowly pushing you back in bed, sending your breathing into shallow spikes.

“Tsumu, cut it out!”

“I know yer nervous,” his pretty brown eyes are blown out when he pushes you down by your shoulders and you’re buried in your blankets, before he descends on your throat and chest again, kissing and leaving biting nicks, “didn’t do nothin’ like this before right? Know ya were waitin’- but I got ya now. Relax, I’ll make ya feel good. Promise.” The idea that Tsumu knows something so personal about you doesn’t even cross your mind— though it should, more than the way his weight and size locks you in place under his strong, athletic body.

“No, no, I- Shin just broke up with me- and I-”

His expression darkens, eyes narrowing a little as he comes to hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek as the other wraps tight around your wrist. “Don’t say another man’s name when I got ya under me.” He takes a long breath, before descending on you, mouth to mouth, and then pushing his tongue into your mouth too hard for you to keep him out. You try to call his name, but he kisses you without regard, uncaring as he grips your face and makes a noise of agreement when you relax your jaw out of sheer necessity. “Ya’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted ya, doll. Really, hah.”

His hand slides down your chest to start picking the shirt up your body, and though your rapidly rising and falling chest is exposed, his eyes stay sharp on you, and you can’t help but choke on your cries. He doesn’t look right. His eyes are wide and so sharp, mouth slightly curled as he forces your both wrists next to your head. “Thought I was gonna have ta kill ‘im for you ta finally give in, but-” He kisses you again, before the hand gripping your face snakes down between your bodies to grab your tits through your shirt as he repositions his thighs to lock your lower half in place under him. “Yer gonna be a good little thing for me, ain’t ya?”

“Tsumu,” you squeak, fisting your hands into his shirt by his shoulders, but it only makes him groan in response. “Let me go, I want-”

“You don’t know what ya want.” He takes a deep breath, before slipping his hands under the garment and brushing his thumb over your raised nipples, peeked from the cold air. “But I do. ‘N I’m gonna make ya beg for me so fuckin’ good.” He lets you go for a moment to take your shirt off with rough tugs, before staring again. “See, Samu said I should give it a rest. But how can I, when I knew you’d be the prettiest little virgin cunt ever? Hm?” He licks his lips, before leaning down to start kissing all over your tits, sucking and tugging at your nipples with noises that make you grow from the inside. A cold shiver rolls down your spine, and you find yourself pulling his hair despite yourself. Because it feels good, and heat pools low in your belly.

“Tell me ya want it. Tell me ya want me.” The fire that seems to glint behind his eyes takes you aback, and you try to scramble from under him, but he’s back over you before you get a chance to. Gripping your face and forcing you into another kiss, the taste of his tongue on yours, deep and heavy. “People here hate ya, don’t ya know that? Think yer a real bitch. That’s why no one wants to be yer friend.” He rests his forehead to yours, so that you’re basically breathing each other’s air, and hums. His free hand starts taking off the sweats he’s wearing in a smooth motion, leaving him hard in just boxers. “But I’ve been ‘ere for you.” Another kiss. “I’m good to ya, too.”

The room is so hot, and your brain completely thrown off with the mix of all emotions you’ve felt in these short few hours; and it has you all fucked up. Tsumu must know this, but he doesn’t care. And you take a few panted breaths, looking between your two bodies at the was your tits brush up against him each time you move— he’s so close. “So say you want it, or I’m leavin’.”

“I want it.” Your voice shakes as it comes out, eyes stinging, head floaty— it barely feels like you said anything at all. “I want you.” He takes that as all he needs before grinning, kissing your temple and shuffling off you to shove his boxers down his thighs, before grabbing himself by the base and stroking a few lazy pumps along himself.

“Here, kiss it,” he nods his head towards it, helping you up and then right back down so you’re on your hands and knees. You’re getting wet. Sadly, you didn’t exactly think to put on any nice panties, but Tsumu doesn’t care as he makes you lean in and down until you can rest your lips to his cock, and he makes another noise. “I know it’s kinda bad but- I’ve been wanting ta fuck yer face for years now. Put- yer tongue out.” The admission only makes you feel more hot and hazy, and you do as you’re told. “Ahh, mhm.” He tastes weird when he pushes the glossy head to your tongue, translucent precum coating your tongue, but he takes a few more pumps, then pushes you back over.

“But not now, I wanna fuck you first. Yer gonna let me fuck your tight, little cunt, right?” The plush in your face doesn’t hide the heat as it floods to your face, your belly, down your legs— and he manhandles your legs up to start peeling off your shorts and panties. You can feel the strings of slick as they connect your wet pussy and the fabric, and hide your face into your shoulder before he groans your name again. “Yer so fuckin’ wet, look atcha. Already a little cock tease, and I haven’t even done nothin’ yet.” Your hot, puffy pussy is revealed, and he swipes two fingers out to circle around the wet hole without hesitation, only pulling back to slot the digits in his mouth. He shrugs his shirt off and tosses it next to the bed, then comes to kiss you again.

“Ya taste that? That’s yer pussy gushin’ like a whore for me. Only me.” He kisses like he’s got something to prove, taking your mouth up until all you can think of is him, and the places where your skin seems to zap under his rough hands. Each touch leaving you more breathless than the next. And you’re forced to just nod along and abide, because you couldn’t ask for what you need if you tried. He plays with your tits while pushing first one prodding digit in, but soon pushes up with two. “Gotta- prep this little hole before I fill you up, right? That’d be the nice thing to do. Even though ya haven’t been very nice to me, babe.”

“‘m sorry- Tsumu-” you hold back a whimpering moan as he squeezes your tits hard and flicks your nipples, and his fingers slowly push into you. The wetness dripping down your slit and along your inner thighs is hot, and your body curves instinctively as he slowly slides in and out a few times, while the man above you chuckles.

“No, you ain’t, little minx.” His grin is still wide though, hiking your one leg higher to get a better look at the way your greedy pussy swallows up his long fingers and he fucks you open so easily. “S’okay tho, I forgive ya. ‘Cus I’m gonna get to fuck this pretty pussy first.” The slick sounds fill the room and sound so, so loud, and lewd, and yet, there’s still more noise coming from your throat as he goes deeper again and his thumb finds your puffy clit with a little hum. “Uhuh, that feel good? Look at you enjoying this. Didn’t you want me ta stop? Huh?”

“Hm,” you just answer, grabbing your own chest with one hand, his arm with the other. He’s so much bigger than you like this, so muscular and intimidating. You look between your bodies to watch his fingers bottom out, and though the stretch is a little uncomfortable, it’s mostly just really, really good, filling your head with fog. Tsumu’s thick cock twitches between his legs, and he leans in to kiss you again. This time pulling his hand back to slide it into your mouth instead, making you gag when his fingers hit the back of your throat. You taste heady, a little musky, and lick your lips for the thin thread of spit when he pulls back.

“Alright, say thank you, Tsumu.”

“-thank you, Tsum-” you parrot, and also freeze under him when he goes to reposition himself and his cock head pushes at your sloppy, wet slit. “Wait- condom-”

“Shhh, just relax. If you freak out it’ll hurt ya.” He places one elbow next to your head, and lines himself up better, before starting to push into you already, and your leg jerks. He’s really big. Too big, you think, trying to take a deep breath as he starts breaking open your slick walls and slowly moving back and forth through it. “Aghh, that’s- it, that’s it, thatsithatsit-” He moans loudly, pushing your cheek up and kissing you back long and deep, tongues messily tangling and tasting each other, bumping noses as he fucks in, and in, and in. It pulls every thought out of you, every fiber filled with electricity. The tightness is painful, but you don’t want him to pull back, and judging by the way he groans into your mouth, he won’t anyway.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m fucking my tiny virgin cunt with a condom,” he pants when pulling back, eyes blown wide. His hand pushes your knee up more to stare at where you’re connected, before pulling back halfway and fucking back in, and the pressure on your womb and belly is enough to have you whining out so loud it barely sounds human. “That good, huh?” He bottoms out again, feels so fucking deep inside you that you can feel him high up in yourself bumping against your walls, and it feels so good, so, so good your toes curl and your knees lock around him.

“Fuck,” you can just barely gasp, before he pumps into you again, and starts really grinding himself into you. Slick drips out of you with each thrust, and makes the bed rattle under his weight. His hair sticks matt to his forehead, his lip pulled between his teeth, and the wet slapping of his hips meeting your skin is so distracting. Everything aches. Everything feels so good. You can barely even feel the sting anymore, jerking on his cock like you are. “Tsumu, I-”

“Gon’ have ta wait, princess,” he suddenly chokes, “yer clamping down on me like crazy— fuck.” He lifts one knee to push your legs open more, and then just shakes his head as he starts speeding up. “Oh, fuck it, gonna fill you up first. So fuckin’ tight, god, fuck-” The heavy thrusts go more sloppy, rapid as he chases his own orgasm and squeezes your thigh hard, yanking your teary cheeks back towards him as you pant to slide a finger between your lips and dropping a glob of his own spit into your mouth like it’s normal. Groaning into your mouth, and fucking his fat cock so deep into you you see stars. “One experience at a time, right?”

“Ah, Tsumu- p-please, fuck-me more, more, touch- more.” Your head rolls back as he pulls your hips back into him again and again, before suddenly locking up, and feeling how hot ropes of cum fill you up and he pants out your name in between a string of swears that all melt into a long growled moan as he stills. Only for a second though, because he’s quick to pull out and roll you back so that your knees are by your head, and he’s on top of you. He strokes his cock a few times, watching the last of the strings of thick cum land between your thighs. “Tsumu-” you pant, and take a breath, and pout- all at once. Because he stares at the way his cum comes out of your sloppy hole, before pushing it back inside. “Ughn-”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not done. Not even close.” He spits onto his hand before bringing two fingers back to your pussy, and his thumb over your needy, puffy bud. And you jerk, blinks stuttering as you moan high and needy. Can’t help it. “Yer gonna wish I was done with ya long before I let ya out of this bed. I’m not done playing with my pussy.”

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.virginity #tw.noncon #tw.degradation #tw.dubcon #tw.size kink #tw.dark content #tw.creampie #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.atsumu

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reverieblondie · 5 months

Text

Be Sweet to Me

Chapter 1

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: None for this chapter, but there will be eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. For now- Fluff and Miguel struggles with grumpiness and realizing his touched started, but he's just over worked. Alternating POVs

Summary: People say many things about you're co-worker, and sure he's not the most social but you won't give up being friends with him! Little do you know Miguel is juggling so much in his life, and getting used to you is proving to be more difficult than he thought.

A/N: I am so excited to be finally be making this series! The Alternating pov's is different than what I normal do, but I think it works best for this story! This is heavily influenced by the song Be Sweet by Japanese Breakfast. Unsure how many chapters this will be, so look out for updates! if you would like to be tagged please comment to let me know!

Word count: 3,447

Part 2

“Y/n, I need you to organize the samples and make sure that all the documents are in order before the meeting.”

Giving a slight huff you stop your work, turning on your heels to face your coworker.

“Okay, but what's the magic word?” you playfully tease with the slightest hint of condensation.

Turning his head you see the unenthused glare in his eyes despite them being shaded behind the round tinted glass. You're still not fully convinced he needs those things inside, some kind of light sensitivity he's explained once but you suspect he might just like the cool guy aesthetic it gives him. Though you wouldn’t blame him if that was truly the case, it does look kinda cool.

Face scrunched in that way you have gotten used to seeing over these past few months since working here at Alchemax. Chiseled jaw clenched shut, his full lips pressed in that iconic frown, thick brown hair styled back to try and tame the unruly waves, and tall bulky figure that you used to be intimidated by, (okay, sometimes you still are) but you have slowly adjusted to your co-worker: Miguel O’Hara.

He stared at you for a beat before turning back to his work without another word, his oh-so-subtle way of telling you to shut it and do as you're told. “Alright alright, I’ll get it done. Don’t have to tell me twice.”

One thing you have learned about working with Miguel is he may not always speak with words so if you want to create an effective work area with him you have got to be good at reading his expressions. Working with a guy like Miguel had its challenges, for one his mood: he's not exactly the easiest to get along with, and people call him cold or cocky depending on the day.

Then there was how busy he kept himself, always working on something, typing on screens, working with experiments, or tapping away at that clunky watch of his. Even on the days he’s not around due to him ‘working from home’ you can tell just by his face that he hadn’t given himself time to rest. What on earth could keep a man so busy? Well…you had an idea or two…

Despite his grumpy demeanor you were determined to become friends with Miguel. It didn’t matter what others would tell you about him or how much he distanced himself, you saw the subtle glances, the repressing of smiles, the slight cracks in the shell, You two would become buddies you were sure of it. Maybe he just needed someone to show him the effort, to be sweet to him, then maybe he could lighten up and bring his walls down.

Pulling out all the stops nothing was going to stop your attempts, you were always nice (even on days where that was particularly hard) Helping with things he didn’t ask of you, organizing and cleaning up behind him. Coffee was always a winner, you knew exactly how he liked it too, you kept making different attempts then stopped on the one where he wasn’t making a face while he took his first sip. -Success!

Then there was the friendly encouragement, pats on the shoulder, and high fives. Sure he seemed hesitant to them at first but he slowly became used to them, baby steps.

Every passing day was closer and closer to your friendship blossoming!

Magic word…was she serious? Why should he say please? It's her job to listen to what he tells her and do what he says considering he’s worked here longer. Miguel keeps typing away at his computer, lamenting in his mind how his co-worker was quite the character.

Miguel couldn’t deny that having a co-worker who was tasked to help him in all his research did help him out more than he would ever admit. Having to juggle the secret identity of Spider-Man, being the leader of the spider society protecting the multiverse, and having to keep his role as head geneticist in Alchemax. Everything could get taxing very quickly on him. Layla was a great AI assistant but she was limited, so having an actual person tagging along to help him with work was bearable, though…you were a bit exuberant and that was taking some getting used to.

The jokes, the odd habits, your clumsiness, the smart remarks you mumbled under your breath, your overwhelming friendliness. All this he could begrudgingly handle, but the thing that was still overwhelming him was the touching! Sometimes it wasn’t even touching at all you would just be so close.

First noticing it when you would stand so close that he would accidentally bump into you, if he was looking at a sample you were leaning over him to watch. You had no spatial awareness, running into him, running into things! The first month of you working here you broke so many things by running into them he thought they would run out of beakers.

Then the friendly gestures started happening. Miguel was used to people keeping their distance, meeting his gruffness, but you…oh no…you must have seen it has some challenge! The encouraging words, patting of his shoulder, spontaneous high fives, squeezing past him in tight areas, adjusting his coat for him, dusting off crumbs from his chest! Your Friendly proximity made him tense, it was…new and different, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Though it could be worse, you could be a completely useless idiot. To Miguel’s surprise you did have a brain in that head of yours, so the trade-off for actual decent help was some playfulness from you he would just deal. It’s not like he wasn’t used to playful coworkers, the spider society made sure of that. Still, you were different…and that blossoming tingling your touch would leave on him…it was…annoying.

Miguel's eyes move over to you as he watches you begin the task of organizing the samples and getting everything prepared for the meeting. Begrudgingly he was tasked with having to explain the recent studies and developments the two of you had made. The meeting was honestly bullshit, he hated having to report to the chairman, but they liked to keep a thumb on Miguel, making sure he was still their best brain. In fact, you had offered to take over and run over the presentation for Miguel but they denied that, had to be him…bastards

For a moment you turn your head and look towards Miguel meeting his eyes, you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, that friendliness still shining through. With an annoyed huff, he turns away getting back to his work. Still adjusting…

The two of you worked diligently for a couple of hours, in silence of course, there was no time to get distracted with chatting when so much needed to be done. Rubbing his hands over his face he could feel a wave of extortion taking over him. Sleep was something he wasn’t getting regularly, there was just never enough time in the day so sacrifices must be made.

Eyes growing heavy and vision slightly blurring he feels himself slipping, but he can’t, he won't. Then a shrill alarm begins to blare from Miguel's wrist snapping him back awake. Miguel is quick to place his hand over his watch and sneak out of the lab unnoticed, lucky for him you were too concentrated on your work to notice his absence. Checking the message on his watch, it is a local emergency, something he can handle in fifteen minutes tops. With a quick few cracks of his neck, he's leaving to save the city again.

Stretching feeling accomplished in yourself getting everything prepped single-handedly. Roaming your eyes around the lab you note the lack of bulk in the room. Huh, no Miguel? He must have done one of his disappearing acts again, probably just going to lunch without you. Invite yourself to lunch with him one time and now he doesn't even tell you when he's going. Matters on that guy, oh well, you might as well go get something before the meeting anyway. Coming to a stopping point you gather your things for a nice quick bite in the cafeteria.

“I can’t see how you can work with him.” Ah, so much for a nice quick bite…

Sitting there trying to enjoy your lunch it’s the usual suspects who come to sit next to you, talking more at you and around you rather than to you. You can’t help but think that this annoying tinge you feel is what Miguel felt when he was ambushed by you. Though you couldn’t have been as annoying as these people. Complainy and gossipy types are not the best combos with your meal.

Their subjects range from many topics like complaining about work, to failed experiments, personal problems, idol gossip, then it lands to the one directly aimed at you…Miguel. As soon as the question is asked you're looking up from your food to see all eyes on you. Chewing quickly and swallowing to ask your question.

“I’m sorry what?”

Sophia groans, “O’Hara, how can you work with him?”

“Uh, well he does his thing, I do mine?”

Julius chimes in “Isn’t he a total dick to you though?”

Cassidy is now giving her input to the topic, “Oh I can only imagine what you go through on the daily.”

“Well ac-” trying to interject, you can’t even get a word in till you're being cut off by one of them.

“Yeah! Like I bet he is always bossing you around.”

“And probably insulting you in some way,”

“One time he called my team brainless idiots because we messed up one small thing” -it was not a small thing, that took you and him an all-nighter to fix…

“That was-” you try again only to be cut off once more.

“Oh, and he is always being rude!”

“God, how can you work with that monster!”

With that last comment you had it, the noise wasn’t meant to be as forceful as it came out but they kept cutting you off and then bad-talking your research partner, you were fed up. Slamming your hands on the table with a hash slap, effectively silencing them, you rise from your seat grabbing your tray in the process.

“If you have issues with him you should speak to him like he’s a person. He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance... I've lost my appetite, excuse me…”

With that, your lunch break was over.

“Spider-Man!”

“You saved us!”

“He’s a hero!”

“But…he’s kinda a jerk…”

“Didn’t he punch an old lady before?”

“I thought she punched him?”

Uhhgg…would anyone ever get that story right? Miguel is prying the last bus hostage off him as they cling tightly to him. The vulture from his dimension was up to his usual antics but he made quick work of him and was now cleaning up the shocking mess. Having to save the people from the bus was no big deal, it was the pushy reporters, camera lights flickering in his face and the clingy person keeping themselves pressed to him that was the pain to deal with. Taking deep breaths he’s trying to keep his cool, but he can feel himself threatening to boil over.

How come he can’t just ever save people and leave? Why was there always this extra crap to deal with? Finally getting the person off and seeing that all of what he could do was done he's trying to get out of there, but people can be so pushy…

Questions, Comments, Flashing lights, Praise, Criticism…he couldn’t help but snap,

“Get out of my way! Leave me alone! And for shock's sake, try to learn to protect yourselves!”

The crowd was shocked by this sudden outburst, but this should have come as no surprise from the grouchy hero. Spider-Mans in other dimensions were always known for being friendly, witty, funny, and nice to all they saved, Miguel didn’t exactly follow this blueprint. Miguel didn’t exactly mean to sound rude, just being a hero gets exhausting and patience was something he needed to work on.

Miguel hears the gasp and murmurs amongst themselves about how he’s a dick, a jerk, arrogant, blah, blah…

Rolling his eyes, hidden underneath his mask he couldn't help but think of how irrational these people could be, say one thing the public wasn’t fond of and they are at your throat. It’s all of a sudden no longer how he just saved a busload of people, or saved the city by defeating a villain; No, now it’s about how rude he was.

“Jerk!”

“Boo!”

“I hate you Spider-man!” -great…this just makes everything so much better with this thankless job.

Swing off before the police come to further irritate him. As he swings back to Alchemax he’s wrapped up in his thoughts. This hero thing was not easy…everything he did wasn’t right, not what people wanted…he was always messing up in some way…nothing was ever good enough, he had to stretch himself thinner and thinner, keeping everything together. The pressure is immense…

Getting back to Alchemax, he changes and tries to resume back to his work, the fight had successfully woken him up but now he’s starving. Eating like sleep has also become a thing he has had to cut for the sake of time, but something quick should be fine before he gets back to work.

Stopping by the cafeteria Miguel immediately spots you sat by Sophia, Julius, and Cassidy, not good company for you to keep. Well honestly anyone, they might catch their stupid. Making sure to be as unnoticed as possible last thing he needs is you trying to wave him over to your table. Coffee with a bagel is all he needs to grab so he can make his escape back to the lab. Grabbing a coffee that thankfully wasn't made by you, his sensitive ears can’t help but catch what's being said at your table. No surprise it’s about him.

Listening in he is catching fragments of the conversation sipping his coffee trying his best to ignore the meaningless conversation, till a remark of him makes him pause at the threshold of the entryway.

“How can you work with that monster!”

Monster…huh…is that how people see him? Mutated, sure, grouchy, and tempestuous maybe, But a monster. A ping in his chest makes his hands tighten around the cup. Talons threatens to poke through but he resists. If they want to see him as a monster then so be it…he doesn't care…

Suddenly, a slam, followed by your familiar voice catches him by surprise,

“He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance”

“Not some monster…” Your words can’t be helped from echoing through his head. You sound so angry, you never sound angry. Looking over he sees your face furrowed in a glare. He didn’t think your face knew how to do that. Watching as you walk away in a haste away from the table he's leaving to his usual eating spot hidden away from others.

Taking his shades off in the empty break room he dims the lights down as he sinks into one of the chairs. Finally getting even a moment of a break, even taking time to peacefully relax he finds he is unable to. Even sitting leaning back he still feels teased, irritated, stressed. Trying to shut his mind for even a moment, a second of a break he finds it to be an impossible task. But as he sits, his usual stresses fade to be replaced by your words. Miguel could have cared less about what those idiots had to say about him. The surprising thing was that you were defending him…not that he needed it… but it was…kind of you…

Taking a bite out of the bland bagel he groans to himself, annoyed.

It's almost time for the meeting and you're pacing outside the doors with everything ready to go, except you haven’t seen Miguel anywhere. Running behind is a thing you are not used to from him, he’s usually so timely but you haven’t seen him at all since he left for what you thought was lunch. Did he get caught up doing something else?

Minutes tick by and you're growing more anxious by the second. Would he just not show up? It’s a possibility, but he would be putting both your asses on the line, though he didn’t have to worry much about that, they wouldn’t fire their best brain, but…you're a bit more expendable.

Before you can continue thinking about your ass being on the chopping block Miguel is rounding the corner adjusting his coat and walking in a casual strut. Looking at him as he approaches you notice his appearance looks a bit different. That shirt does seem a bit wrinkled and his tie is completely messed up from earlier. What has he been doing? Mid-day workout? Did he have an accident in the lab and have to go change? But the clothes are the same, just wrinkled.

Or was he doing something else… Thinking for a moment over what you could be doing that would cause messed up clothes an image of a sweaty grunting Miguel pops into your brain. Pushing down the thought with an internal slap to yourself you decide to greet him as friendly as possible.

“You're running behind Miguel” -okay you can’t help but tease him a bit. Friends rass each other all the time.

“Yeah, got…caught up in something…” he speaks hesitantly, suspicious…

Miguel gets ready to go inside but you quickly grab him by the shoulder to get his attention “Hold on there, you can’t go in there looking like that”

Turning to face you, he looks at you confused then looks down at himself, “What? I look fine.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and point to his chest where his tie is haphazardly knotted together in a rushed fashion.

“Your tie” Before he can protest your hands are already getting to work losing his tie gently, “Let me help you”

With the silk tie undone hanging down his chest, you're moving your hands to raise his collar. As you concentrate on the task your eyes are fixed on his neck you observe that as your fingers slightly brush over his warm skin his body teases slightly. Straightening his neck, you know he’s about to say something.

“Why are you nice to me? I know what others say about me, so how come? Are you trying to pity me?” His voice is stern and this isn’t what you were expecting out of him right now. Did he hear you earlier?

The slight laugh that escapes you couldn’t be helped. Moving your hands you cross the two ends to tie in a classic Windsor knot. “Leave it to you to think someone being nice to you is just a ruse to pity you. I just want to be nice to you.”

Remaining silent you continue to loop and twist the tie, your knuckles blushing over him, you swear you see his skin pickle up for a moment with a slight shiver. Finishing up, you tighten it to his neck and carefully fold his collar back down, keeping your eyes on your work at hand, you watch as his Adam's apple slightly bobs as you adjust it properly.

Sliding your hands to the silk tie you brush your fingers down the soft fabric straightening it while laying down flat against his chest. The feeling of his chest tightness under your fingertips and his breath seems to be slightly slow, you don’t know if he is hating this or being relaxed by it.

Meeting his eyes, they are unshaded for you to observe their burgundy hue. His face is still stern looking but you know this one has that slight softness in his eyes, meaning his listening, he is waiting for you to speak again.

“I want us to be friends, simple”

Miguel's lips slightly part as if he was about to speak, but before he could the conference room doors opened with them calling Miguel in. Turning to you there is a look on his face you're not completely used to, but that will have to wait for now. Giving a quick pat to his chest you smile up at him.

“You got this Miguel, good luck.”

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