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satzumosupremacy · 7 months

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Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.9

Embrace

Male reader x Jihyo

Tags: Sprinkle of fluff, Smut, Impregnation kink, Drunk sex, Quickie 6.8K Words

As you were required for an award show, the thought of Jihyo attending never crossed your mind, and you were unaware of her presence. Even though you were aware of her being there, you maintained professionalism by staying in the background and behind the cameras while the award ceremony unfolded.

As a bodyguard, you typically stand alert with earpieces, awaiting radio communication regarding potential threats. In contrast, many other security guards either monitor numerous cameras on large screens within designated rooms or actively patrol the hallways.

You find yourself observing Jihyo as she sits, fully immersed in the ceremony, seemingly unaware of your presence. However, as you sneak glances at her, a subtle discrepancy catches your attention, causing a growing sense of annoyance. Her smiles, perfectly timed for the cameras, contrast with a nonchalant, annoyed expression when the attention is not on her. It isn't until hours later that she finally rises and makes her way towards you near the door.

“Come out. We should talk, Oppa.”

“Let’s go to the hallway near the bathroom. There’s no cameras.”

“No wonder you get paid so much. Just scanning everything like a muscle memory,” she said, chuckling on the way to the bathroom. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re not human.”

“That really hurt, Jihyo,” you said playfully, “I didn’t know you would show up here. I saw your schedule, but coming here? That’s surprising.”

“Just curious to see. Since we both are here, maybe I’ll come over tonight instead.”

“Are you really curious, or was this an idea that you want to fall through and sleep on my bed?” You said, teasing Jihyo and staring at her gorgeous back.

“Who knows. How do I look?” Jihyo turns around for you and poses.

"You look beautiful in that black dress," you complimented with a warm smile, appreciating the way the dress accentuated her grace and style. Her face lit up with a grateful blush, and the simple yet heartfelt compliment added a touch of warmth to the night. But the way you knew how she looked under that dress turned you on more.

“My eyes are up here, Oppa.” She said, laughing softly, catching you staring at her gorgeous body, and cover her mouth with her hands. “I plan to leave, how about you?”

“I have to stay til the end.”

She sighs, “I’ll wait for you at your house.”

“Ask your manager to stay to keep you company. I don’t want you feeling alone in a big house," you said out of worry.

“We both live alone. It’s only right that both of us know how it feels. I’ll be fine, Oppa.”

You didn’t budge but ask her again, “stay with your manager until I’m home.”

"No," Jihyo playfully responded with a confident smile. It was impossible to disagree with her again after such assurance.

“Okay fine. But we should get going. I hear footsteps. Might be a security guard making his way around.” You never fail to surprise her with the smallest things, like hearing footsteps or blind spots that cameras won’t be able to see.

She could only sigh, yet witnessing this more masculine aspect of you was truly one of her favorites. "Alright, I'll catch up with you later."

You nod and follow her back from a distance. The little dirty thoughts of knowing what she looks like under that dress turned you on even more. As time passes, your only option is to remain standing, communicating with the security room, while you observe the ending of the show hours later.

——

As you enter the garage and step out of the car, she hears you and promptly opens the door to welcome you. However, Jihyo doesn't utter a word; instead, she walks directly towards you and gently pins you to the wall after closing the door for you. In an instant, her lips meet yours, and she kisses you as if she has been longing for the passion you both shared the last time.

No greetings. Just getting straight to the point.

Despite both of your schedules today, the two of you wanted some relief, or better, the whole night that you both deserve after a long day. Her hands hang on your shoulders. As it continued from a genuine kiss to a more passionate one, your hands slowly trace her figure down to her hips, squeezing Jihyo’s ass.

“So damn aggressive, Oppa,” Jihyo said, smiling at you once the two of you made eye contact. "You're very, very handsome tonight."

“Fuck, you know how hot you look in that black dress?” You said, mouth inches apart, and shares of each other's warm breath.

“It’s hotter seeing you in all black, Oppa.”

“Sorry it took so long, Jihyo.” She didn’t respond and continued to kiss all over you lips down to your neck while you traced her curves, grabbing her ass for a tight squeeze again. “All mine for the night?”

“Oppa,” she said, gasping quietly, “remember…what I said to you at the start of all this?”

“What is it?” You said and turned around to pin her to the wall. Your hands never let go of her body and kept touching her with lust. She stares right at you, locking each other's eyes silently for a split second.

“Eat me. I never gave you a chance at the start. I know you’re tired of having the same thing each week.”

“Sana?”

“I never said no names.” She laughs, catching you off guard to start name calling. “Have me. Me for tonight. Eat me and hold me tight. I’ll please you too.”

“You know I won’t disappoint you, Jihyo.” And within an instant, you lift up her dress slightly to see that Jihyo didn’t have any panties on. She got you flustered, and you can only question her, “what’s going on? Don’t act like Sana. This is so not you at all.”

“Got too impatient waiting for you. Couldn’t help but play with myself for a while.”

“I kept you waiting, didn't I?" You then nod side to side with a gentle smile, "you don't have to anymore.” And you slowly trace between her crotch right onto her clit to feel how wet she has gotten. Curiously, you tap her pussy gently, just feeling a string of her juice stretch onto your fingers. “It’s very wet. Tell me what you were thinking while I was gone, Jihyo. Tell me everything. Tell me what we should do on this lovely tonight.”

She remains locked to your eyes, moaning ever so quietly as you rub her clit slowly. “I just,” she whimpers quietly, “want to be held in your arms and feel like I’m the only woman in the world.”

Unexpectedly, you felt some pity, some gratitude at the same time when she wants you, and only you to make her feel this way. Ever since the first time you fucked her, you never got a taste of her at all, but only get to feel how tight she really was, and with a smirk, you lick your fingers immediately once you pulled out to get a taste of Jihyo as she quietly looks at you for a compliment.

“May you cum on my face later?” You said, licking your lips and finger her again while Jihyo could only pant quietly.

You gaze at her, right in her eyes, and hear her beautiful voice, continuously fingering her even faster, deeper with another finger inside. “Oppa,” she moans and squeezes your shoulders, “I just want you.”

The difference between Jihyo at the award show and right in your house was vastly different. In the public eye, she shows confidence, smiling for cameras. Yet, in the private moments away from the spotlight, she seeks comfort, desiring to be held in your arms without the presence of cameras. Slowly tracing her body, you quickly lift her up and carry her to the couch with your hands on her ass.

“After a long day, we both deserve this time. Am I right, Jihyo?” You toss her on the couch and took the advantage of being on top to kiss her neck. She tilts her head in the opposite direction from your kisses to give you every space possible.

“Want to stay up for the night?” She quietly moans more from the feeling of your lips all over her neck.

“It’s been a long day, but if you want, we can. Staying up is simple.”

“Busy tomorrow? I don’t recall you being busy.”

“So many questions.” You said with a chuckle and pin her down harder, silently staring right into her eyes. Even avoiding Jihyo’s question, you are busy in the afternoon later, but rather not disappoint her.

“Eyes so seductive,” she complimented.

“Because I’m the one that you’ll have tonight.”

“Let’s go to the bedroom. Eat me, Oppa. Give me what I was missing out on.”

Before you even walk to the bedroom, you see a smile from her, brighter than you can clearly remember from today. Even though she brought a suitcase and seemed to be packing for a vacation, you willingly offered to carry her luggage. Regardless, you didn't pay any mind whether she intended to stay for just a night or several days.

“Oppa, why aren’t you asking about my luggage that I brought over?” Jihyo questioned while taking off her dress.

“I’m fine if you stay over. Let my house be your sanctuary and escape from reality. Whatever’s bothering you, just know I’m here.” You said, concerned nonchalantly, and subtly expressing empathy. Considering Twice's hectic schedules, including yours, it's evident that the members are likely burnt out.

In fact, you could sense something was on her mind at the start of the event when the cameras weren’t focused on her. But when she’s in the spotlight, it was all smiles—fake enough to make you notice the small differences from Jihyo. From just being an observant person, it made you worry for her.

“Oppa,” she said as you stare at her naked body, “thanks,” Jihyo said and you can see her smile fade away. You rather try to make her feel happy instead of knowing what’s on her mind, simply because you couldn’t relate to being an idol after all. But even if she hesitated to say what was on her mind, you wanted her to tell you regardless.

“Jihyo, the door is closed, and it’s only us two together.” You said, sugarcoating and encouraging her to open up comfortably. Despite the close bond within Twice, it's understandable that her leadership role comes with a sense of pride. You're aware that she might feel uneasy about sharing her thoughts with the other members.

“Oppa,” she said, hands out, inviting for a hug in front of you and you wrap your arm around her without a word, “I like the hospitality you give me."

"Feel free to express yourself. When we hug, I can't see your face, so just share what's on your mind, Jihyo." You gently pat her back, with her tits pressed against your chest. If Jihyo needed a shoulder to cry on, you would bring her in your arms without wanting her embarrassed.

“Our schedule was tough, wasn’t it, Oppa?”

“It was…kinda, Jihyo. It was.”

"Are we being too much for you? In a personal way?"

"No, not at all," you said simply.

“I’m just tired. I’m just exhausted. It’s just been rough for all of us including you, Oppa. I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, either way, you held her in tightly and warmly, her chin on your shoulders as if she was crying behind your back. “Did anyone tell you that you’re doing good? I’m very proud of you, Jihyo. Very.”

Your words had the power to bring tears to her eyes, whether from the struggles or from the sheer motivation it provided. Jihyo's joy was evident in the warmth of her cheeks against yours. However, you didn't realize that these were tears of happiness, or even seeing Jihyo shed a tear. As she held you even tighter, standing still, she embraced the heartfelt words you had given her.

“Want to drink? Celebrate after our busy schedules, Oppa? Just us two. We get along so well together.” Jihyo said out of the blue, smiling and wiping her tears secretly and gets down on her knees to kiss your body and pull your pants down with a mischievous smile.

“Jihyo,” you caressed her cheek and she sucks on your thumb for a tease. “Anyone told you that you look so beautiful today?”

“No..well, apart from my stylist and managers. Thanks.” Jihyo then kisses your tip, licking the bottom side to make your cock twitch on her tongue. "You deserve something, Oppa. And it's me."

“Not even a tease. Just getting straight into it, Jihyo.” It’s not like she can say anything back when you held her nape and pushing her gently down to deepthroat your cock slowly, which you groaned, “Jihyo.”

You fall back onto the bed. Jihyo’s little hum, moan, and her eyes that stared up to you, eased the tough day both of you had. You push her down even more to make Jihyo gag louder. The wet slurps her mouth made echoed in the bedroom, it was pure music to your ears while you closed your eyes. She smiled from the corner of her mouth all because of how pleasured you were. Even Jihyo missed the way your cock tasted and swallowed all the pre-cum that leaked out. You gently let go of her nape to give Jihyo some rest as she pulls off to take a deep breath.

“Think I’m finally realizing why Sana is so obsessed. Fuck,” Jihyo laughs, wiping the small mess on her lips. You decide to seduce her by pressing your thumb against her lips and make her suck on your thumb again.

You brush her hair by the ear just to see her face even clearer, “I love how dirty you can get when the time is right. Can you take it deeper?”

She smirks, “you think I can’t?”

“You’re a singer after all. I’m worried.”

“Studio session isn’t in a couple days. Plus, it’s not like this is our first time together.”

She continues to suck you off, from the tip, you can feel her tongue rubbing against it. You moan, grunting quietly while holding her nape and grip onto her hair, “Jihyo,” you couldn’t help but groan her name. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your breath becomes even heavier, deeper once she started to deepthroat you without any guidance. You feel some saliva drip down to your balls, to which she quickly licks your balls with a light chuckle, and the breath you felt. “Just cum if you can’t handle it. We have the whole night. Don’t be embarrassed, Oppa.”

She squeezes your cock, thumb teasing your tip in circular motion to make it twitch. And again, she doesn’t hesitate to suck you off when your cock is all hers tonight. “Jihyo,” you grunted, “slow down.”

And like she even listened, Jihyo pushes herself down even farther to take every inch when you felt her throat contract and chokes—hard, and pulls out to jerk you off. “Were you worried?”

“No shit.”

“How considerate,” she smirks and admires your cock. “May I get an appetizer? Then all of it inside somewhere else later?”

“If you really can’t wait to get eaten out.” Without hesitation, she sucks only your tip, swirling her tongue around it and under to make you gasp. The whole time, Jihyo sucks and teases your tip for your load of cum. You lean your head into the bedsheet even harder the more she focuses on your tip, and it is only the tip. Her head bobs quickly all in one area that got you tensed up, even making you grunt. “Jihyo. Jihyo.”

Your cock pulsates every bob she does, and it was too much for you to handle when all the focus is the tip of your cock. You would confidently say to yourself that her blowjobs were different than any women. Her soft, warm hands were on your lap, slowly and teasingly caressing your thighs.

“Fuck, Ji-” you said, grunting, cumming right in her mouth as she slows down to feel your cock pulsating. Jihyo didn’t expect how much she got you to cum and your cock didn’t stop pulsating to fill her mouth. Jihyo stopped bobbing for your own sanity. Seconds after, you rub your forehead with the palm of your hands just to come back to reality by what this woman just did—an overwhelming quickie that made her cheeks bloat with cum.

Jihyo awaits for you to look at her, soon as you did, she swallows your cum with your cock still in her mouth and pulls out. “This is just a thank you, Oppa,” she said, wiping her lips, licking her fingers, and brushing her hair to the side femininely.

And you couldn’t snap back into reality at all when it was just an overwhelming quickie.

“You’re so lucky that I rather savor the taste of you tonight. Otherwise, I might make you yell at the top of your lungs tonight.”

“Hey, maybe it’s good vocal practice for me.”

“Shut it.”

“Not if I can shut you up first by sitting on your face, Oppa.”

“Enough talking,” you chuckled and she quickly got up to take the chance to shut you up by sitting on your face while you’re laid down already. "Seems like the tables always turn when you're the one seducing me, Jihyo."

“Enjoy as long as you want.” Jihyo smiled, which you couldn’t see when her tits were in your view. You wrap your arms around her thighs, to where she can feel your biceps locking her in. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all to be on top."

You had enough talking when her pussy was right in your face and started with a simple tease to her inner thighs, closer, and closer to kiss her pussy and lick how wet she was already. You can barely hear her moan with her thighs covering your ears, but it is enough to make her squeal and jerk around while you finally get a taste of Jihyo. She digs into your scalp, unintentionally getting a pinch-like feeling out of it with her nails.

“Oppa,” she moaned with her irregular breathing and the small squirms you felt. “Fuck!”

With a grin on your face, you wanted her to regret what she didn’t let you do—eat her at the start of all of this. As you kept eating her out, you didn’t let Jihyo catch her breath but kept going like you wanted her to moan even louder.

And she did start realizing and regret what she didn’t let you do.

Her pussy becomes even more wet with your saliva, also your mouth being a mess. Even if she squirms, your tongue stayed glued and gave her a bundle of sensations. You got her feelings on a rollercoaster with your arms around as her only seatbelt.

Jihyo’s body tenses, arching back and face up to the ceiling, then a erotic moan from her within the breaths she takes every second. She was at her limit, legs twitching and jerking, squirming everywhere like her body wanted to be free from your arms. You suddenly pause from eating her, “You’re not cumming anytime soon.”

She quickly catches her breath. “Oppa,” she said, panting and trying to control her breathing, “you have to let me lay down. I can’t handle this.”

“Free yourself.” Even if you knew thigh muscles were more powerful than arms, you cheated your way through by licking her pussy just so she couldn’t escape as she tried to, which she surrendered herself as you slowly savor Jihyo’s pussy.

She can only admire the view down below where your face was no where to seen but only your hair. “You eat me so fucking good.”

“You taste good, Jihyo.” And you press your tongue against her pussy, slowly up and down to devour her. You did free her however, only to grab onto her tits and gently squeeze them. Her toes curl up, every part of her legs tenses, and Jihyo couldn’t take it anymore by the way you’re eating her in all the right spots.

“Oppa, you’re gonna-” Your tongue circles around her pussy; from the clit, slowly down near her ass, you savor every part of what you’re getting tonight and for the next few days. Jihyo’s moans get louder, screaming and covering her mouth like she’s going to cum if you keep swirling your tongue around. “Oppa,” she groaned erotically and an accidental quick scream.

“Let me enjoy you for a bit longer, Jihyo,” you smiled and slowed down from eating her out. From her thighs, you kiss them passionately and made Jihyo chuckle. “I love your body, Jihyo. I really do.”

“My body goes well with yours, Oppa. You’re muscular, while I have everything you need from a woman’s body.”

“I wouldn’t deny it either. Want to change positions?” Jihyo didn’t answer as you released her from your arms. Once she lay down, you got on top of her and kissed her tits, then traced down her body to her stomach, and lastly, again to her wet pussy that you made a mess of. Jihyo’s legs leaned against your shoulders as you slowly licked her pussy. “How much longer can you take it, Jihyo?”

“Fuck, it’s so sensitive right now. Stop torturing me so much, Oppa,” she laughs, and then moans with her back arching once she felt your tongue digging into her pussy. Jihyo squeezes her tits, moaning even deeper and breaths break into a stream of long pants.

Without a doubt, you wanted Jihyo to cum, not in the hardest way, but calm enough to make Jihyo feel all the sensations. “Cum for me, Jihyo,” you murmured without letting your mouth off of her pussy.

“Fuck!” She moaned loudly, legs jerking, body tensing as you only slowed down to hear her beautiful voice as Jihyo starts to cum. Her legs also pushed you back as you didn't budge but it wasn't enough for your tongue to let go of her clit. As she has her moment, you stare right at her, see Jihyo squeezing her tits when her head was buried deep into the pillow. “Ah!” She clenches her teeth quickly to be quiet at two in the morning and nods side to side once you sucked on her clit, then giving it a kiss as the cherry on top.

“Rest for a bit, then we can go back out.”

“Oppa,” Jihyo said, gasping for air while you waited for her to finish what she wanted to say. “Never mind.” Again, laughing in the most unexpected moments. What Jihyo wanted to say was that she loved how you eat her, but didn’t want to sound like an easy person to please.

You didn’t bother asking and laughed along with Jihyo. “Should we put on some clothes and go to the living room?”

“Mhmm,” she said, smiling with her eyes closed after getting eaten out. You take Jihyo’s hand and made her get up from the bed to dress comfortably. She puts on a shirt—without her bra, panties, and sweatpants that she got out her luggage.

You both leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen. You decide to cut some fruits to arrange on the table. Jihyo, being familiar with the layout of your house, goes to fetch a wine bottle, a couple of beers, and a half bottle of whiskey. As you're busy cutting strawberries and mangoes, you notice her walking back and forth with drinks. Feeling a bit puzzled by the amount she's taking, you chuckle and only look at her. "Jihyo, I don't want you to get too drunk."

“Don’t worry, these are just extras that we might take some sips with.”

You chuckle in a surprised tone, “Sips? I know how you are, Jihyo. Remember when you threw up on my bathroom floor and Nayeon had to clean it?”

“Oppa, stop overreacting. This is a small party for the two of us.”

“Fine. I’ll take care of you if you get drunk tonight then.”

“I won’t get drunk.” She said coming out of the small room that you store all the alcoholic drinks in. You watched as she came out with the final bottle—the whiskey. Jihyo lifted the bottle triumphantly, a smile that she couldn't hide but got to drink with you. "Oppa, this was the bottle that Tzuyu was so adorable after taking a few shots."

“I remembered.” You said, continuing to cut the fruits as Jihyo leans over the counter to patiently look at you cut the fruits. “Mind handing me a plate, Jihyo?”

She hands you a plate and rest her elbow on the counter to look at you. “You look so hot using a kitchen knife.”

You pause, setting aside the task of cutting the last pieces of strawberries, and glance at her. "Are you already drunk?"

“No,” she laughs, “fine, don’t take the compliment then.”

“Fine, don’t take the compliment then,” you playfully mocked her. “Go have a seat, Jihyo. I’ll be there in a few seconds.”

“Need some help? I’ll carry the other plate.” You decide to give her the plate of mangoes and walk behind her to the living room. As soon as she sits, you turn on the lamp and open the blinds slightly to set a calm mood with the night sky in the view.

“Jihyo, I’ll be busy in the afternoon. Hope that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine. Do what you have to do.”

“Call Jeongyeon or anyone to come over and have some fun while I’m away.”

“It’s alright. I’ll most likely sleep until you come home.” She said, picking up the fork and eating a slice of mango while she contemplates to choose which bottle of alcohol to open.

You glance at the clock on top of the tv—three-thirty in the morning, and look back at Jihyo munching on a strawberry as she makes eye contact with you. “Open the whiskey and let’s have a drink, Jihyo.”

She gladly grabs the whiskey and places it on her chest, tits mashing onto it to give her some leverage. “Oppa,” she said, struggling, “it’s too tight. Can you open it?”

“Gimmie,” you said and twisted the cap easily to pour it into the shot glass. "I might have closed it too tight," you laughed.

“Cheers!” Jihyo said, clinging to each other’s glass and smiling at you before taking the shot. After taking the shot, she sits closer, enough for your thigh to touch hers. You didn’t mind at all. Besides, she feels safer with you than being alone in her apartment. You could clearly tell by her actions.

“Oppa, is Sana getting in the way of you and Tzu?”

“No. Not at all. Why?”

“Sana keeps talking about you in the group chat.”

“Sexually?”

“You know, the way you fuck her. She loves it to the point of sharing with everyone in the chat. Did you know that?”

“Tzu told me a little. But I can’t do anything about it.”

“But how did all of this start? The weekly thing with Sana.” Majority of the members knew that Sana was over every week, but they didn’t know it all started as Jihyo wondered. Which, you couldn’t really come up with an exact answer to.

“It just happened that way. It’s Sana, Jihyo.”

“She's hot, isn't she? I would understand if I were you. Another shot?” She said excitedly. “C’mon, we have all night to ourselves.”

“You’re such a bad influence. Did you forget I’m busy in the afternoon?”

“Wait..then..shouldn’t you sleep? Fuck, we don’t have to this. Maybe next time? Tomorrow night? Or the next?”

“Did you forget? I’m not a human like you said.”

“I didn’t mean it, Oppa. But I think you should sleep instead of staying up with me.” She said with her hands on her chest to show her sincerity.

"It's okay," you say as you take a bite of mango from your fork.

“No, seriously. I think we should just go to sleep. I'll give you something special once we wake up."

“You wanted to stay up. It’s too late to turn back, Jihyo. Let’s just continue."

——

One shot after another, laughter and the clinking of glasses echoed in the air. After an hour, Jihyo's face had turned red. The effects of alcohol were beginning to take her, not just on her, but on you as well. The half-empty bottle of whiskey was completely drained, and she had switched to beer and wine. You couldn't help but anticipate the potential things alcohol would do to her.

“You ever thought of putting a baby in me?” Jihyo said unexpectedly and picked up her cup of beer to take a big gulp.

Even after she spoke, you found yourself at a loss for words. Your mind scrambled to form a response, “I think you’re drunk, Jihyo,” you said, avoiding her question.

“I’m not.” And she gets on top of you, staring right into your eyes, “you never avoid my questions, but is it because it’s too early to talk about this?" Then she tilts her head to the right, "wouldn't you like to see what we created after nine months if we get a chance?"

You discreetly checked her wrist for a pulse, which was beating irregularly due to the alcohol she had consumed. As the room fell silent, you found yourself unable to answer but have to be direct.

“We aren’t in love, Jihyo.” You said, forcing yourself to draw a line between both of you in the most gentle way possible.

“I know we aren't, but it doesn’t change the fact that you would have gotten me pregnant at the start if I wasn’t on a pill.”

“Jihyo,” you chuckled and all flustered, “I mean, I probably would have gotten you pregnant when we first fucked, wouldn’t I?”

"Hey, let's work something out." And she gets closer to your ear, "promise me something. If the stars align, or once everything settles down, I don't want us two to just be all business.”

As confused as you are about what she said, you think she’s clearly drunk saying nonsense things, and at the same time, you were getting buzzed. Perhaps it's because Jihyo is sitting right on top of you, looking hotter than she looked in the dress you saw tonight.

Jihyo is consistently the one who takes the lead in seducing you. She's the woman who effortlessly maintains the conversation, even as you sneak a glance at the clock—five-fifteen in the morning. "J-Jihyo…"

She puts her finger on your lips to shut you up. “I might be drunk, but what I’m saying is what I think of you other than our bodyguard. I may regret what I say once the sun is already up.” And her finger never left your lips. “Shhh. I can’t stand you looking at me so hot.” You stare at her silently, and she rolls up her shirt to only cover you in it with her tits right in your face. The feeling of her tits was warm; they were soft like a pillow. Only you would be able to kiss and suck on them as she held you in without much force but a smile, seeing you under her shirt. You felt her pulse as you explored each side of her tits with your mouth.

As you sucked on her nipple, you could only think of what she was saying while you were also slowly getting buzzed by how fast your heart was beating. It’s all confusing—the atmosphere, the way Jihyo was pleading you for something in return, and even her grinding on your cock got you to endlessly think of an answer.

"Let’s take things slowly," she moaned. “Forget the bed. Let’s do it here first. I can’t stand it anymore,” she whispered with a heavy breath. “I love it when you give my tits attention. I love it so fucking much. I love the way you touch and kiss them.”

You didn’t answer at all when all the attention she gave you was her tits. Seconds later, Jihyo decides to take off her shirt and mash both sides of her tits hard on your face. With a chuckle being heard from Jihyo, she found it cute, so much so to get her even wet and make her panties damp from how turned on she was.

“Oppa,” she moaned from feeling you flicking your tongue on her nipple, and lift you from her tits. You stare right in her eyes, silently seeing how turned on she was. “Let me do you a favor and take off your clothes. May I?”

“I’m not stopping you, Jihyo.”

“You’re really killing me. So damn good.”

“Enough talking. More fucking.”

What you didn’t expect was when she turns off the lamp right beside the couch. Only the moonlight lit the house from the big glass windows and the small faint light from the kitchen. You were enchanted in her spell, seduced and doing it on purpose was one thing—only to see how far Jihyo can seduce you. She slowly takes off your clothes and plant kisses to your neck. “I know you’re loving this, Oppa.”

“I am.”

“Your lips look bored,” Jihyo said. At this point, there was no going back when she’s so drunk right on top of you. Her tone’s different and seductive. You didn’t even bother asking why Jihyo started whispering with no one else in the room except for you. The smell of beer and whiskey lingered from each other’s breath.

Then that would be the last conversation between you two once she quickly takes off her pants and slides her panties to the side. Jihyo puts your cock inside her. Both of you moan quietly when Jihyo sits down and your cock disappears deep inside her pussy. You never forgot how tight and wet Jihyo can get. She never forgot the way your cock stretched her walls, and the way your cock throbs and pulsates is a compliment to Jihyo. She puts her arm on your shoulders, leaning closer to kiss you as she grinds slowly, gradually quickening the pace every second to find a good rhythm.

Your breath gets heavier, breathing right into each other’s mouth and fighting to be the dominant kisser, to the point where you would be the one. All the problems she told you about disappeared because she got what she had been desperate for. After a long day, Jihyo wanted the night to be long until the morning, and you did the right thing to grant her wish—fucking each other until sunrise.

And she found the perfect rhythm to ride you. You grabbed her ass, groping it while you wanted to help her ride you without Jihyo being the one putting in the work. She couldn’t be happier than tonight. Because of you, Jihyo smiled, cried happily, and even gotten to talk to you in the most genuine way before sex.

She felt like the only woman in the world.

The atmosphere turned hotter when Jihyo moaned right in your ear to turn you on even more. You gave her ass a couple gentle slaps, firmly grabbing them every second you could. She decides to free you from her hug and grabs onto the side of your face to look at each other. The deadly and lustful stares she gave you made your heart race even faster.

“Jihyo,” you groaned. Your breathing becomes the heaviest whenever she takes your cock deeper. “Fuck, Jihyo,” and you get a whiff of her neck, kissing and biting it softly to make her moan more seductively.

“Oppa,” she moaned. “Ugh…mhmm, I can feel it throbbing inside.” Jihyo hugs you in right between her tits again. You knew what to do and sucked on her nipple, making her groan seductively in the dark living room. “Let’s go to the room. Fuck me and cum deep inside me. Imagine what we’ll be doing in a couple years, right in the same bed.”

“Such dirty thoughts, Jihyo.” You carry her into the bedroom with your cock still inside. Gently, you fall right onto the bed and penetrate her deeper, pushing onto her thighs the hardest like she wanted. You put her legs together, and she held onto them, assuming that’s what you wanted. With a grin, you penetrated her pussy with each thrust. Your cock in and out of her pussy just to pump and dump the load she will get. Her moans got more erotic, screaming with a visible smile from the corner of her mouth.

“You’re so fucking deep in me,” she murmured and gasped. Also, Jihyo couldn’t hold her legs any longer because of how deeply you were penetrating her tight walls. Jihyo’s leg became weak as if her body had surrendered to you for the better. “Oppa,” she moaned, bursting into a sudden scream, and starts to cum with her legs tensely shaking as she grabs onto your arm to hold.

You didn’t stop at all but thrust harder and faster, as deep as you could get inside Jihyo, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. You lean closer and push her abdomen down with your hands just to make her scream louder, all while making her feel like your cock reached to her stomach. Jihyo covers her mouth with two of her hands, leaning back into the pillow to feel the sensation of you deep inside her. But when sex became this passionate and words were barely spoken, you couldn’t hold out any longer when Jihyo begged to have it all. She deserved it.

You grunt, taking a deep breath, knowing that you’re going to cum. And you do so without telling her at all. She already knew. Jihyo got what she wanted tonight. You grab onto her tits and squeezing them to your desires as you dump every drop of cum deep into her with her thighs being pressed onto yours.

Both of you catch a breath quietly, she holds onto your hand that’s squeezing her tits, and caresses you slowly. “Oppa,” she said, totally exhausted, unable to finish her words.

“Fuck, what time is it?” You wondered, glancing out the window as Jihyo locks you in with her leg around your hip. The sky was no longer as dark, signaling the early stages of dawn. It felt like time had skipped, and you realized you had completely misjudged the hours.

As time distracted you, Jihyo turns you back to her with her hands on your cheek, “how did this turn out so damn passionate?” She laughs cutely and softly with a smile that you can see more clearly. “Oppa,” and she hugs you tightly, squeezing you in, chest against chest. Without completing her intended words, all she can express is gratitude through this heartfelt hug.

Without a doubt, you both were tired from the alcohol and fucking. Jihyo decided to pepper you with kisses, and you thought it was excessive of her. “Your bed is so comfortable, Oppa.”

“And it’s also where you’re going to sleep for the next few days too. Better not go to sleep. Don’t you want to see the sunrise?”

“Mhmm.”

You get off of her to lay beside her, together facing at the window naked, and slowly see the sunrise in the distance. “Jihyo,” you said silently.

“Yes, Oppa?”

“Sober now?”

“Did I mistakenly say something? Fuck..”

From her response, it became evident that she harbored some kind of feeling that you don’t know. The words that she said when drunk was for sure something she has been thinking about you. It’s always alcohol getting the best out of Jihyo. “You didn’t say anything wrong,” you said, assuring and hiding the words that she may be embarrassed of.

What you were unaware of is that she never saw you merely as Twice's bodyguard; rather, she can envision a future with you. It was only her pride that held her back. The only method she could think of to bring herself closer to you was through her discreet approach of spending several days with you, hoping to witness a different side of you. As the sun continued to rise, she closed her eyes with a pleasant smile.

"Jihyo," you softly whisper, "Jihyo?" And you gently lean in to catch a glimpse of her. She's fast asleep, peacefully resting with your arm wrapped around her, providing a comforting embrace.

Despite you assuming that she was sleeping, she pretended to sleep. Jihyo knew you were busy later and wanted to ensure you had some time to rest. You fell quickly asleep, wrapping your arms around her, and she couldn't help but blush at the warmth of your body gave off after fucking.

After several minutes of you completely knocking out, Jihyo slowly removes your arm off of her and quietly leaves the bedroom all naked to clean up the small mess you both left in the living room. She returns the beer and wine to their original places, disposing of the empty whiskey bottle and extra cans of beer in the recycling bin. The clothes that both of you wore were placed in the laundry, ready for her to wash once you've left the house.

The sun reached its peak, casting a warm glow as Jihyo returned to bed and held you in to her tits as a pillow. “Oppa, I think I like you more than what we currently are.” She confessed quietly, embarrassed to face you knowing that you didn’t feel the same.

#kpop smut #twice smut #jihyo smut #park jihyo

632 notes · View notes

teabutmakeitazure · 1 year

Text

Dissimulation

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)

>Word Count: 11.6k words (slow burn)

>a/n: my offering for best boy's birthday

Warnings: coercion, Childe doesn’t know how to flirt, blood is finger licking good, panic attack

An unwelcome customer turned into an unwelcome acquaintance has been terrorising your life starting from your minimum wage job. Perhaps your flight back home is your only way out.

Continuation | reasons why Childe is #1 husband | Continued Again

Patience is a sign of virtue. Or at least that’s what your mother taught you when you were growing up. No, it’s all just some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them.

Regardless, you don’t say anything, tired already as it is and just wait for the month to be over so that you can get your pay and go back home.

Even if he seems to like you, you would rather not push your luck. Despite only being in this city as a student, you’ve picked up that it’s best not to engage with the local mafia members, even if they seem friendly. Just keep your head down and return the greeting if given one. If one of them comes to your shop, treat them as a regular patron, and if a fight breaks out somewhere with one of them, do not take sides. Simply leave as quietly as you can.

Unfortunately, you have no such choice or opportunity to keep contact to a minimum. That is why you opted to bide your time and sneak out as quickly as you can and never opt for minimum wage jobs again. Maybe you could get a paid internship next time. You’ll probably meet the course requirements.

The dreaded convenience store you are currently walking to is situated a ten minute walk away from your campus dorms. Having to stay there and beep items all day was its own form of punishment as it was, but with the crowd that had recently started to come in these last few months, it started to seem more like a form of purgatory.

You still remember the lecture your friend had given you on how to act normal around the mafia community. The fact that they recently got active in this neighbourhood is simply an added bonus. Honestly, you’ve been counting the days when your incarceration will end with your flight. You just want to go home and hug your cats first, family members second.

The bell chimes as you walk inside, and you sigh when you see the mess of ginger hair and a dangling red earring already waiting for you. At least this time his back is turned while he scrolls his phone even if he is sitting near the register.

About that, where’s the manager? He should be at the register right now since your shift just started.

“You’re late,” the dreaded man scrolling his phone points out, eyes not leaving the phone screen.

Keeping your friend’s advice in mind, you decide to reply before twisting the knob to the employee room. “Sorry. I was doing laundry.” A lie but you aren’t going to tell him that you got distracted watching cat videos.

No greetings were exchanged and he didn’t even look up at you. Strange, but it’s best to only reply when talked to. Getting too friendly might backfire.

Still, you decide to say something just for good measure.

“Is the manager in today?” you ask, eyes on him while your hand remains on the knob.

All you receive in response is a shrug.

Thus, you enter the employee room, and there you have it! Mister manager sits on the desk in all his white polo shirt glory.

The door hinges squeak loudly behind you when you close the door. Stepping to the desk, his head slowly rises to look at you when you greet him, but he doesn’t respond. After you’ve slipped on the employee uniform jacket and pinned your nametag, he speaks.

“I may have made a mistake.”

That causes you to frown. “What happened?”

“The guy outside… I… I didn’t realise he’s a high ranking member. I may have asked him to leave because he’s been here for half an hour already and… well…”

“Well, what?”

He shakes his head. “Well, he sort of jokingly said that the building belongs to his division and that the store could close if he wanted it to.”

“...”

“Look. I know you’re a student, so I promise I’ll pay you somehow, but please! He listens to you, right? Try to appease him!”

You groan. “I’m sure he meant it as a joke.”

“Please!”

“Alright alright. I’ll… try.”

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re going to do. He’s a higher ranking member, you know that much, but why he even bothers to be so friendly and chatty with you is out of your scope of understanding. At least now those tough looking ones that drop by in the evening don’t test your patience anymore.

Cautiously, you open the employees room door and head back outside. There’s still no one in the store, but you know that afternoon rush hour is about to start. With you on the register seat, the dreaded man who will stay with you on another shift turns his body to face you, phone immediately slipping into his pocket.

“So,” he drawls, “was the manager inside?”

You put your phone on the little shelf underneath the cash drawer. “Yes. He was inside.”

“Was he mad?”

“Um no.” You look at him questioningly, brow raising when he just smiles. “Should he be?”

“Who knows?”

“Right…”

Silence ensues and you briefly ask yourself why he’s less chatty today. You can’t believe that it’s concerning you. Sure, he’s a very dangerous person if he’s so young and in the mafia of all things, but dangerous people are downright terrifying if pissed. At least you’re not the one at fault. Besides, three more weeks and it will be time for your flight.

You just hope you make it.

“Something on your mind?”

He’s looking at you now, cheek resting in his palm. He’s even gotten closer, next to you to be precise. You don’t think you heard him get closer.

Nervously, you give a little laugh. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Dull blue eyes bore into yours, gently forcing you to answer truthfully. The lack of vitality in them unnerves you but that is precisely what compels you to answer.

“Well… the manager said that you might get the store to close…”

“That? I didn’t think he’d tell you. Anyway, I was messing around,” he smiles. “You’re a student, so it would be unfair to you to suffer in consequence to him.”

The statement doesn’t make you feel any better. “Ah, you’re too kind sir Tartaglia.”

Like before, the way you addressed him makes him frown. “Just call me Childe. Tartaglia is only for my men. Though… if you would prefer…” he leans in, hand that was previously holding his face now gripping the edge of the table as he whispers dangerously close to your ear, “I’d gladly tell you my birth name.”

He backed away again, a smile on his face. “And I know you wouldn’t tell anyone haha.”

How do you even reply to that?

Scratch that, should you even reply to that?

He’s looking at you again, that smile that doesn’t reach his eyes gracing his lips and impatience oozing from his face. You sense that he’s waiting for an answer so you try your best to comply.

“Understood... Childe.”

The name feels foreign on your tongue, and you blame the unfamiliarity on the nervousness that comes with being near him. Thankfully your answer seemed to appease him and he happily nodded.

Okay, one problem solved. You’ll get your minimum wage salary. Another problem. You’ll have to endure the awkwardness because you don’t have it in you to call him out.

As if on cue, your employer exits the employee room and heads for the exit without even looking at you. The fast walking didn’t make his exit any graceful, but it did make it seem important with how Childe eyed his movements.

Silence settles again as you blankly stare at the empty store in front of you. Regrettably, you’re a little worried about what might happen when you’ll be back after summer vacation. You never told him that you’re leaving for home and the white polo dunce of a manager has been sworn to secrecy about it after he flat out told Childe which institution you study at right in front of you.

Protecting your personal details is your job, so you’ve taken it into your own hands. It isn’t wise to tell a mafia member who obviously pines to be more than just acquaintances about your personal life and details. Thus, you will slip away to home on a weekend flight.

What happens after you’re back is something you didn’t consider.

Well, almost two months would have passed by then. Surely he wouldn’t care anymore… right?

You hope he doesn’t. Perhaps it would be best to avoid this neighbourhood. Maybe even look into school transfers to be safe.

“Something’s on your mind again.”

His voice cuts through the air like a dart and lodges into your head. Is it so wrong to simply want some peace? No wait. Peace is bad. If he's quiet then that’s bad. You’ll have to humour him.

Thus, you take a deep breath. Act normal, you tell yourself. You aren’t the criminal here. You’re a humble student trying to earn some money. Relax.

“Well,” you drawl, “I’m just spacing out.”

You don’t even look at him, eyes still fixed on the empty store.

“You must be thinking about something.”

Grumbling, you internally curse your luck. Patience is running out and you don’t know how long you can remain civil with him breathing down your neck like this. Maybe he had a bad day and that’s why he’s more inquisitive than chatty.

“Nothing,” you sigh. “I’m not thinking about anything. Just waiting for rush hour to start so that my shift can go by quickly and I can go home and sleep.”

“Hm.” He’s closer now, and you can see him in the corner of your eye. “So you’re tired of this job?”

“Tired of the people that come here actually. Most of them are so shady it’s unreal.” Now that that’s said, you hope he doesn’t realise that the jab is actually at him.

“I realise that. I saw what kind of crooks used to come here. They mostly thought they could intimidate the people working here, but all that’s in the past now.”

Well, you do owe him the credit of straightening them out. If it wasn’t for Childe, you’d still have to endure taunts from those weirdos about how they can take anything from the store and you can’t do anything about it. Regardless, you can’t be certain whether his presence is actually good or bad.

“Anyway,” he’s behind you now, hands suddenly on your shoulders, “you’re not from here, right? Any plans to visit home for the summer?”

Well… shit.

How do you go about this…

You never told him that you’re not from this city, so that can only mean that white shirt dunce did. Great.

“I’m not sure,” you reply. Would it be wise to ask him how much he knows? Childe does seem to be friendly in all the weeks you’ve known him. Ah. You’ll take that chance. Slowly turning around in your chair, his hands remove themselves from your shoulders when you face him. “Did my manager tell you anything?”

Now you’re looking into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem affected at all.

“I asked him about it. He told me that you might go home for the summer if you can afford the ticket.”

Okay so maybe the manager saved you a little there, but you still need to answer him. So, you settle with going with what he said.

Nodding, you look at Childe standing in front of you again. “I'm planning to decide by the end of this month. If I do go home, I'll put in a one week notice. Hopefully it isn't a problem."

He smiles. "Don't worry. It won't be."

You can't tell if he's comforting you or making notes to assist you. Either way, he doesn't know about your flight. Figuring out how to get him off your back when you come back for the next semester will be for when you're home.

"Anyway," Childe says, breaking the silence, "are you doing anything after your shift?"

Where did that come from?

Tilting your head a little, you act innocent in hopes he gets the hint. "Depends on what I'm asked. I do have some pending work. Why? Do you need me for something?"

"No. Just asking. What about tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure about tomorrow yet…"

Childe chuckles. "Then how about you make a reservation for the evening, with me?"

"W-why?"

"I just wanted to take you out for dinner. Is that alright?"

Did… did you just get asked out on a date?

Seeing your confusion, Childe chuckles again. “I promise I’m not going to kidnap you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll just take you out, treat you to dinner, and drop you home. No shady stuff.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, tongue teasingly peeking out.

You suppose there’s no way out of this, but still try nonetheless. “What if something important comes up? Would it be okay to… cancel…?”

His hands go back to his hips. “Important? What could be more important?”

“Um, my summer courses? I still get assignments for those…” You hope that doesn’t offend him, but judging from his face he looks more confused than angry.

Childe clicks his tongue, a scolding look on his face. “You can’t get an assignment with a same day submission date, so that’s out of the question. But hearing your response, it’s alright if you’d rather not go.” He sits back down, arms crossed. “I would prefer it if you'd be honest with me. Prevaricating with lies is more than just annoying, you know.”

In the silence of the store, you can feel your heart beating loudly in your ears, the thump a scolding sound for your stupidity. If he’s angry with you, who knows what could happen. “No! Not at all. That’s not what I meant.” Your patience is still being tested but at this very moment you’re more fearful. “I’m just worried because those courses are counted in my cumulative GPA, and I can’t afford to let it drop!”

“So you’re only worried about your grades?”

“Yes!”

“And you’re not opposed to getting dinner with me?”

“Yes! Wait…”

He smiles. “Go on~”

You narrow your eyes at him, fear all gone and annoyance taking its place. “I sense I’ve made a mistake here.”

The teasing smile turns into an encouraging one and with a sigh, you surrender. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

He gives a little celebratory ‘yes’ but you cut him short. “But I need to be back home by ten max.”

“Wait… your shift ends at seven…”

You cross your arms, finally getting back at him. “And what about it?” Seriously. Was he planning to hog your entire evening?

“That’s way too short!”

“I have a curfew placed on me by my mother back home. If I phone her any later than ten pm local time, she loses it. I would rather not be screamed at.”

“Alright. That’s fair.”

Now that that’s done, you still can’t believe you just agreed to a date with him.

However, Childe looks more than just ecstatic. He’s practically jumping in his seat, leg bouncing up and down and a wide smile on his face. When you raise a brow at that, he just smiles at you, practically oozing happiness.

He stays the same way, quiet and happy and fidgety as customers start to come in. As usual, he doesn’t say anything while you’re ringing them up and just stares. It’s when the rush dies down a little and only one guy is in the store that he speaks.

“Don’t you ever get tired of working so hard?”

You look at him from the corner of your eye. With his face in his palm, he’s staring directly at you. “I’m beeping items with a barcode scanner. I don’t see why it’s hard.”

“It is actually,” Childe says, firm in his statement. “I think you’re just used to the extra work so you don’t find it bothersome.”

“Maybe,” you shrug.

“Hm. You deserve better. Perhaps… someone who would take care of you, no questions asked. Someone… who would treat you as you deserve, cherish you, and make you happy.”

The way he speaks makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t let it show. Patience, you remind yourself. A few more weeks and you’ll be gone.

“There’s no need for others to look at you like this.” He sighs, “I hope that changes soon.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, so you’re grateful the guy who was browsing the drinks for the last five minutes finally came to the counter. You busy yourself with billing him, but Childe just… stares. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a second.

Now, the regret of agreeing to dinner seeps in.

The customer leaves, and as soon as the door closes, you hear a phone buzzing. Before you even look at your phone, Childe has already pulled his out of his pocket and answers. He doesn’t give a response to whatever was said on the other side, brows furrowing as he cuts the call.

The chairlegs drag against the floor when he stands. “Sorry but I have to go.”

You don’t dare question the oddity despite your surprise to him leaving before your shift ends. “Alright.”

“I’ll pick you up outside your dorm. Is that okay?”

“Okay but what time-”

“I have your number. I’ll text you, don’t worry.”

With that, he’s out, leaving you confused inside the store. Considering the lack of smile and the fact that this is the first time he left before seven pm, it must have been something work related.

You just hope nothing advances after the dinner tomorrow.

He really does have your number. You don’t remember ever giving it to him, so you don’t dare question how he got his hands on it. At exactly 8: 06 pm he texted you that he would pick you up at 7: 30 pm outside your dorm tomorrow. That means that you would have around ten minutes to get ready.

Ten minutes are too much. You’re only going to change, maybe put on some lip gloss if you look too dead. No makeup and no accessories that could possibly make you look more attractive. Simple and plain is the goal.

Speaking of dinner, you’re going to have dinner with a mafioso. Perhaps you really should look into school transfers during the summer.

This sort of vicissitude was not welcome in the slightest, but you’ll have to work around it. If nothing else, you’re thankful that Childe is respectful of most basic boundaries and hasn’t attempted anything yet. Maybe if he wasn’t working where he was, you would’ve given him the time of day.

At 8: 19 pm, he texts you again. ‘Make sure to dress well :) I’d like to see you in a dress if you have any.’

Dress? Does he mean a fancy one? You send back a message asking for clarification, but he only replies with, ‘Anything casual and cute would work.’

Casual and cute… is he really bluntly asking you that?

7: 17 pm. You kick off your shoes and head inside, dashing straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You’re less tired than usual because of Childe’s absence at the store today, something that made the manager anxious, but you didn’t dare tell him about the date.

7: 23 pm. You change into the baby blue Gingham maxi dress you bought a week before finals. It flows just fine, and you grace the look only with pearl studs. Wallet and phone are shoved into the pockets of the dress, and to not look soulless, you apply some lip gloss. The gloss is also stuffed into your pocket in case you want to reapply it later, which you would rather not but you never know.

7: 28 pm. You set your hair again and slip on your sandals. One last look in the mirror and you give yourself a thumbs up. The look is something you would wear to a casual hangout with friends. Doesn’t look very try-hard or date-like. Perfect.

7: 30 pm. You open the door and head out. Pushing the elevator button, you check your phone for any messages while the elevator reaches your floor. Sudden nervousness makes you a little nauseous, but you breathe in slowly, telling yourself it’s no big deal.

The elevator door opens and as you step in, you collide with a very firm body. One look to the face of this body, and you’re frozen.

“Going somewhere?”

You nervously chuckle. “Childe. What’re you doing here?”

He ushers you both inside the elevator, pushing the ground floor button. “I’m here to pick you up? Did you forget about dinner?”

“Ah, no… it’s just… they don’t allow outsiders without a resident escorting them. I was going to wait in the lobby.”

“Really? The watchman let me in pretty easily.”

You don’t even want to know what that means.

“Anyway,” Childe says, voice louder than the gentle elevator music, “you look lovely.”

You glance at his maroon button down and roman silver dress pants, eyes resting on his earring. “Thanks. You look… fine as well.”

“Fine? I only look fine?” He’s leaning towards you now, and the elevator suddenly feels too small. Before you can be pressured into a reply, the doors open and you hastily step out into the lobby.

A chuckle comes from behind you, and soon you’re following him outside to a black car parked a little farther from the dorm entrance. With every step you take, you pray that no one left in your building for the summer catches you.

The car is unlocked with a beep, and though you’re a borderline broke student with no knowledge of expensive things because you can’t afford them so why bother, you can tell that the car is expensive. Or maybe it’s just polished to perfection, but it looks expensive.

Regardless, this is the hard part. Do you sit in the front seat or the back seat? The back seat would be rude but the front seat would be too straightforward. The front seat is too intimate and close but the back seat is too alienating. Shit. What do you do?

You leave your choice to luck and close your eyes, reaching for a door handle. Whichever you grab will be where you sit. Upon grabbing one, you open the door just to hear another one open as well. You open your eyes and a car speeds by at the same time.

Childe stands next to the open front seat door, a brow raised as he looks at you incredulously. You look at him, then to the door you just opened, then to him again. The door you opened is graced with your gaze once again before it’s Childe’s turn.

It’s silent, awkward, and you can’t shake the feeling that you messed up before the date even started.

“Would you… prefer the back seat?”

You blink at him, courage all gone when you reply. “Ah, no! It’s not that. I-I just wasn’t thinking. Sorry…”

Childe’s brow is still raised. “Okay. I’m not your driver. I’m your date. So, I’d like it if you sat in the front.”

Shit. Everything has gone to shit. You agreed to the dinner just to appease him and leave things on a good note instead of a sour one, yet you’ve already made things bad. Great job, [Name]. Aren’t you just wonderful?

Awkwardly, you close the door you opened and get in, allowing Childe to shut the door next to you before slipping into the driver’s seat. He starts the car, puts on his seatbelt, cracks his fingers, and folds his sleeves to the elbow before exiting the parking and going onto the road.

Your seatbelt feels uncomfortable in the heavy silence. Thoughts of what Childe might do if displeased swirl inside your mind but you frankly don’t know what. He seems to like you. He has never mistreated you besides being creepy a few times. Perhaps he’d forgive you. He always says your airheadedness is cute.

The pounding heart inside your chest gets more aggressive when Childe clears his throat, lips parting to give you another mini heart attack. “Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret.”

The pounding heart quiets down a little, confusion kicking away some of the anxiety. “Then it’s good I didn’t ask out of my own accord.”

A secret? What does he mean by that? Scratch that, is the location being a secret a good thing or a bad thing? Should you text your live location to someone? But all your friends are gone for the summer. That one girl you’re acquainted with on one of the upper floors might help if you disappear. At the very least, your jokes in the conversations you’ve had might at least let her sympathise enough to report your status to the police.

“Are you scared?”

Childe’s question makes you look at him, your heart going back to pounding crazily upon seeing his smile. “S-should I be?”

“No. You should never be scared when you’re with me.” His eyes are still on the road. “I realise you have a negative impression of me, but there’s no reason for you to be scared. Well, not you but others should be, but that’s besides the point.”

“Ah. I see.” No. You don’t see, but just go along.

“Mhm. That dress looks amazing on you.”

He takes a right turn at the green traffic light, and you briefly glance at his flexing arms as the steering wheel turns. “Thanks,” you reply. “The dress has pockets.”

As a demonstration, you pull out your phone and show it to him. Childe chuckles at that, calling it cute and you find your heartbeat growing tamer. The phone is shoved back inside and pleasant conversation fills the car on the way.

Childe asks about how university is, how your finals went, and how you’ve come to find the city. You answer the last question truthfully, hands fidgeting as you tell him about your reservations with the ‘law and order’ situation and how you’ve been begged to steer clear of the mafia. The statement is followed by a joke of you doing a horrible job at that, and Childe laughs, saying that you don’t have to be afraid of anyone in the city anymore.

The comforting sentence doesn’t comfort you at all.

The car stops in front of a restaurant and Childe opens the door to allow you to step out. Keys are given for valet parking, and Childe takes your hand as he leads you inside. Thankfully, it’s not as fancy as you thought. It’s not even as expensive, the kind of restaurant where you could arrange a fancy friend get-together.

The not so high end restaurant doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but sitting across Childe does. He apparently made a reservation for the rooftop, so here you are, wind gently blowing in your hair as he unbuttons another button of his shirt.

“Do you like it?” He’s looking at you now, eyes briefly going to your phone when you place it on the table.

“It’s… nice.”

“I didn’t choose somewhere any fancier because I figured you might get uncomfortable. Next time though.”

Next time? Good God what is he planning?

Your face may have given it away because he's tilting his head at you, earring dangling in tandem as he acts coy. "Is something wrong? Do you not like the idea?"

"N-no. That's not it…"

"Hm?"

You gulp. "Ah it was just a little sudden. That's all."

"I'm glad." He's back to smiling now, face resting on his palm. "I'll make sure to treat you like how you should be next time."

Again, next time? Not happening.

Childe grabs the menu, requesting that you let him order for you both. He says something about the taste of home and this restaurant being the only one able to recreate that, but you don't bother. You simply brush him off, telling him he can go ahead.

It's when a few minutes have passed since ordering that he speaks again. Luckily, the clanking of plates and chatter helps tone down your nervousness.

"I come here whenever I miss home. This restaurant actually originated from my homeland, so I thought I'd bring you here. It's not high end as well, so that's an added bonus."

You nod. "Interesting."

Elbow on the table, he rests his chin on the back of his hand, blue eyes studying you carefully. The observant gaze makes you feel small, and you end up clearing your throat when his gaze drops to your collarbone.

You look him in the eye as you speak. "It's a little awkward, isn't it?"

He tilts his head like earlier again. "What is?"

"The silence."

"Ah. Sorry. I just couldn't help myself. You look stunning."

Unlike the previous times, the compliment makes your cheeks heat up. It's probably because this time he's looking right at you with the faint hint of red on his cheekbones. Seriously. He's so human. You wonder how he ended up being in the mafia.

Childe doesn't allow silence to settle again, chatting away about his homeland and how he misses the snow. He says it's easier to go outside in this city's climate, but the memories and people back home make living there worth it. During his rambling, you simply nod along, only adding in a comment wherever you deem necessary.

Patience, you tell yourself. This'll pass. At least you're fortunate in the sense that Childe is accommodating and nice.

He continues rambling, telling you about his younger siblings. Fulgent expression and energetic voice, you lean forward to give him your attention, content that he's making good conversation. As you listen to him, your fingers start fidgeting with the cutlery set in front of you.

Your eyes remain on him as he recounts a story where his youngest brother Teucer refused to acknowledge his sister Tonia after she got a haircut. Hearing about the young child's inability to recognise his sister makes you chuckle which in turn makes Childe pause to look at you with widened eyes.

A smile stretches on his lips, and you trace the edges of the knife when he resumes.

"Mama was pretty concerned about that. It took Teucer a few days to accept that his sister looks different now. Ah. I miss them. They're a lively bunch and I miss being with them."

Your thumb runs up and down the edge of the knife while it's clutched in your hand, face resting in the palm of your free hand. "You can visit them if you miss them that much."

Childe gently shakes his head, hair swaying with the movement. "It's not possible at the moment." At your confused expression, he clarifies, "I can't tell you why. It's confidential information."

"That's fair."

"But I am glad I still get to be here. I got to meet you, after all."

"Oh. That's… nice."

"Mhm." He's leaning towards you as well now, both arms resting on the table. "Any development in your plan to visit home? You should go. If you're having any problems with the plane ticket or something then-"

"Ouch!"

The knife drops from your hand, clattering dully on the table. Blood oozes from the pad of your thumb as your hands shake from the startle. It doesn't take Childe even a second to be on his guard.

"You cut your thumb?" He gets up, drags his chair beside you and sits, knees brushing against yours. "You were fidgeting with the knife… well, no matter."

Instead of grabbing a tissue, he takes a hold of your hand and stares at the bleeding cut. More blood oozes out of it the longer he stares and one drop even reaches your palm. However, that isn't what's bothering you. It's the fact that he just licked that blood trail.

He licked it. And now he's sucking on where the cut should be.

The feeling of his tongue is what brings you back to your senses, confusion and panic overtaking your senses and overwhelming you. Pulling your hand away does nothing because his grip is too strong. Goodness, at least the few tables around you are empty and no one else seems to be looking.

"Childe."

He doesn't let go, pressing your thumb down against his tongue instead.

"Childe. Let go-"

A trail of saliva joins your thumb and his mouth. The two of you make eye contact and you notice a slight blush on his face. Childe then manoeuvres your hand, his lips on your palm as he tenderly kisses the skin messily.

The action gives you goosebumps but you remain quiet, still confused about what's going on. It's when he finally lets go and presses a tissue to the cut that he speaks.

"Be careful."

You remain frozen, hand in his while the tissue remains pressed over your thumb. You can no longer hear the faint background chatter or feel the gentle breeze in your hair. In your senses are dull blue eyes, freckles dusted across cheekbones and nose, and warm breath fanning over your ear when he leans in.

Childe's voice is a whisper, the edges of his hair tickling your cheek as the chair quietly croaks. "You shouldn't be playing with dangerous things."

He leans back again. With a smile, Childe gets up, drags his chair back to where it was, and seats himself. The air surrounding you both is casual, light, like something completely out of the blue didn't occur. This gives you the hint that it's best to not talk about it.

Elbows on the table, both his palms hold his face as he looks at you with a smile. The skin under his eyes crinkles slightly, freckled cheeks squished, and long auburn eyelashes framing the deep blues. You sit there puzzled and feeling slightly violated while Childe continues staring.

It's honestly a little funny.

Right when you concluded that Childe was nice, he does something completely uncalled for. You remove the tissue that was pressed to your thumb, pleased to see that your blood cells have done their job and the platelets coagulated. It'll probably turn into a scab by the time you get home.

Dammit, now you're nervous all over again. Curse you mass of neurons floating in cerebral fluid! Be useful! Sure, he just sucked on your thumb, but keep it together.

When you look at him again, he's still staring. With a sigh, you ask him about his job, what kind of work he does, but Childe only shakes his head, refusing to answer.

His excuse smoothly exits via soft, pink lips. You didn't know you were looking at them until you heard him speak.

"I don't think you'd enjoy hearing about my job. Plus, it's all confidential."

You will yourself to look back into his eyes no matter how difficult eye contact may seem. "Shady? Is that what you're implying?"

"Hm." He hums. "Let's just leave it at that."

So he admits it? Great. You can't wait for the evening to be over. The bag of chips sitting at home sounds very comforting and appetising right now.

When he continues talking again, you start fidgeting with the edges of your sleeves under the table. You need a distraction. Using your phone would be rude, so you figure abusing the fabric of your sleeves is a better option. It takes a little while for your food to be here, but when it is, you compliment his order and ask him about his choice.

The question serves to keep the conversation easy and light while allowing you to only answer, not speak. This in turn allows nothing uncomfortable to occur during dinner. It’s thankfully uneventful until it's time to pay.

You had no qualms about paying for yourself, but being Childe, he told you he’d take care of it. You had no problem with that either. What you did have a problem with was what he said.

“Let me treat my girl.”

My girl. That’s what he called you. If that’s not a red flag, you don’t know what is. Despite that, you suck it in and let him take you home. Patience. You’ll leave soon and never show your face in his active districts again. Maybe you’ll even transfer schools if you’re lucky.

You’re really hoping you can transfer. He might come find you himself after you come back from summer break. Even with all those troublesome thoughts in mind, you act as casual as you could while sitting in his car as he drives you home. Conversation was nice, the thumb incident was borderline violating, but the meal was tasty.

The car stops near your dorm’s entrance, but before you could make any move to exit the car - hand hovering over the handle - Childe locks the doors. You turn to look at him but he’s already looking at you.

“I need to ask you something,” he says, voice unsure and eyes not meeting yours.

Tentatively nodding, you signal him to continue.

“Did you… enjoy yourself?”

“Huh?” You scold yourself mentally for the confused expression. Clearing your throat, you compose yourself. “Yeah. As far as enjoying dinner goes.”

His eyes finally meet yours, and the eye contact is intense. “I take it that you’d like to do this again?”

“...”

“I don’t mean immediately but maybe sometime in the future?”

Sighing, you slump in your seat. “I can’t be sure.” It’s better to make things clear and not lead him on, even if it’s harsh. “I’m not… looking for something right now. It would be unfair to say yes to you when I don’t mean it.”

Childe’s grip on the edge of his seat tightens, the leather squeaking as it gets abused. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t like me, right?”

“Um, yeah.” You can’t pull your eyes away from his. “You’re… nice.”

He blinks. “I’m nice?”

“Yes.”

Childe’s mouth opens in disbelief before he goes back to his senses with a shake of his head. He leans towards you, hand grabbing the back of your seat and eyes widened. “So that means I have a chance?”

“Well,” you laugh awkwardly, “I never said you didn’t. I just said that-”

“I know I know. You’re not looking for something right now, but that doesn’t mean you won’t change your mind later. I’m not going to do something weird, don’t worry. I just… won’t give up.” He’s smiling as he speaks, happy at the prospect of not being rejected. “I’ll keep trying!”

Honestly, the determination he has is cute but it’s almost 10 pm. “That’s great and all, but could you unlock the door? I really need to go.”

“Oh, of course.” The doors unlock with a soft click and Childe bids you goodbye with another concerning statement. “I’ll make sure you change your mind. It’s a promise.”

The chips in your room lived to see another day.

The events of last night’s dinner keep replaying in your mind. It’s like a curse, the moment when Childe grabbed your wrist and gently shoved your thumb inside his mouth. Even with the bandage over it, you can still feel the ghost of his tongue, wet and warm, licking it.

You stop in your tracks to shiver.

It’s infuriating how even on your way to your shift you can only think of him and how he promised to change your mind. So much for leaving without any trouble. Can’t he take a hint? Maybe he’s too dense. It does seem characteristic of him.

The bell chimes when you open the door and head inside. A few customers are browsing the store, one middle aged woman and two office workers to be precise, while the manager sits by the cash register. His white polo shirt greets you before he does and by the time you come back from the employee room changed into your uniform jacket and nametag, the customers are gone.

Beloved and totally not airheaded manager moves away from the register, handing you a little list of work to do and announces that he’s leaving to meet up with someone.

Not even ten minutes of him being gone and the dreaded blue eyed mafioso walks in.

The bell chimes to signal his arrival, and unfortunately you meet his eyes as he stands at the entrance. He’s dressed too casually today, a white T-shirt with some band name on it, blue jeans and white sneakers. If you weren’t aware of his lifestyle, you would’ve thought that he was just another young adult on the street.

“Hi!”

You return his greeting with a simple nod, and he comes in. The only sound is his footsteps till he stops on the other side of the register. You meet his dead eyes again, regret instantly seeping into your bones. Childe’s gaze is affectionate, soft. Being on the receiving end of such a look is overwhelmingly foreign and uncomfortable.

The freckles dusted across his cheekbones and nose catch your attention, but they fail to be graced with your eyes for long. You immediately look away when you realise you started to stare.

Regardless, Childe acts as though he didn’t notice and rounds the register to sit on the chair next to you like always. He doesn’t speak of the date. Typical conversation plays out, much to your surprise, and you mentally curse yourself for expecting him to bring up yesterday evening.

However, it’s not his casual physiognomy that bothers you. It’s his friendliness and the fact that he has started messaging you like one would a friend. Just yesterday he had texted you for the first time in his life and now he’s spamming you funny videos and memes?

Should… should you be worried?

It might prove to be more difficult to shrug him off. You didn’t want to be harsh and outright reject him for him after how he had seemingly tried to be kind and took you out for dinner, but now it seems like that would have been the correct course of action. It’s not that you’re rejecting him solely on the basis of being a part of the mafia. It’s simply your desire to not be in a relationship right now.

Perhaps he’ll respect your wishes like he did last night, even if he did claim that he will keep trying.

You should not push your luck. Really. You shouldn’t. You shan’t do so.

First, you leave his meme spams on read. Then, you have the gall to address him as ‘sir Tartaglia’ again by mistake. The instant fall of his smile had sent a shiver down your spine and reminded you of why you told yourself to be careful. Just because he likes you doesn’t mean you’re safe.

Maybe you are, but that change of expression has creeped you out to no end. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

It has been two weeks since the dinner and Childe has settled with chatting with you over text during the late night hours. Tonight, however, you’ve put your phone away in favour of watching something on your laptop. The screen illuminates your face in the darkness of your room, and your phone’s buzzing briefly catches your attention.

You ignore it, obviously. You’re leaving in one week. This little ‘friendship’ or whatever one could call it is pointless. You’ve already planned on blocking Childe on all the socials he’s invaded as soon as you reach home, a step towards never seeing him again. The less you let him get attached, the easier it’ll be for him to forget you and move on.

Childe is… a little annoyed. You didn’t reply to any of his texts for a few days, leaving it on read since he sends some random videos after the texts. He let it slide at first, but now he’s bothered. It’s evident in the way he isn’t smiling or even talking to you for that matter.

Not wanting to end up on his bad side permanently, you capitulate your ego. “Childe? Is something wrong?” You’re restocking the potato chips as you speak, head peeking over the short aisle to look at him while he sits at the register. “You seem off.”

He makes eye contact with a face devoid of any emotion as if that were the most natural thing to do in the situation. “Why do you ask?”

“I just said so. You seem off.”

“It’s nothing.” Childe looks away, opting to stare at his shoes. He’s wearing casual clothes today as well, something you noted he started doing more often after the date.

Seeing that he won’t budge, you go back to restocking but perk up again when you hear him speak, albeit very softly.

“You’re ignoring me,” he mumbles to himself.

So, you do what comes to mind. Leaving the chip packets on the floor of the empty store, you walk up to him, hands on your hips. “I’m ignoring you?”

He doesn’t look at you, his shoes the most interesting sight in the world. “Yeah.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You don’t talk to me. It’s always me who initiates the conversation.” He looks up, making eye contact. “Is it because I’m in the mafia and you don’t want anything to do with me?”

The subtle accusation makes you defensive immediately, and you stammer. “N-not at all-”

“It is, isn’t it?” The earring hanging from his ear briefly catches your attention when he tilts his head. “That’s why you lied and said that you weren’t looking for a relationship right now.”

“But I’m really not.”

“Relationships aren’t ‘looked for’. They just happen.” Childe leans back in his seat, making you grow more nervous. “And you don’t want one to happen with me just because of where I work.”

Your hands start fidgeting with each other on their own, tongue pushing against your mouth’s hard palate. It takes strength to reply to his imputation. “That’s not true…” Heart beating wildly in your chest, you push the words out. “It’s just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” Think brain, think! “It’s not you, it’s me.” Curse you mass of neurons and amygdala for thinking of this ginger as a serious threat. “So please, don’t think of reasons that aren’t true.”

“But they are true,” he states, like he’s telling you that the moon also exerts gravity on the earth, voice boring and flat. “You just refuse to admit it because you’re scared of me.” Childe’s eyes bore into yours again, seeing through your casual lies and crafted confidence.

“I’m not scared of you.”

“You can’t fool me, [Name]. I’d prefer you to be truthful. Lies just get on my nerves.”

You gulp. There’s no way out of this now. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright. Just keep that in mind for next time.”

“...”

“How can I change your mind?”

“What?” You blink at him, not understanding what he’s asking you. “What do you mean?”

“How can I change your fear of me into attraction? I don’t like knowing that you’re afraid of me.” Childe’s expression turns into a pleading one. Genuine helplessness is written all over his physiognomy which in turn makes you uncomfortable. You feel small under his watchful gaze. It’s as though he’s watching every single movement and breath you take.

“I… don’t know…” Your hands hang by your sides as you stand in front of him, lips pressed into a thin line.

Voice gentle, he tries to persuade you once again. “Please. Tell me how to win your heart.”

“I… I don’t know.” There’s a pitiful helplessness in your voice now, and you don’t know what makes you want to tell him what you are about to. But you do. And you have to watch the realisation appear on his face. “I never wanted your attention.” Admitting that somehow leaves a sour taste in your mouth. “I never wanted anyone’s attention. All I am is a student trying to make ends meet while cussing out the degree I chose for myself.”

Eyes wide, Childe tries negotiating. “I could make your life better.” Hands slam the desk in front of him as he stands, barcode scanner jumping and falling back with a thunk. “I just need one chance. That’s all I need.”

“I’m sorry, Childe, but-”

“No no. I’m not asking. You don’t have to give me one.”

You look into the lifeless blues of his eyes as he continues. “I’ll take that chance whenever I get the opportunity. You don’t have to worry your pretty head over it.”

Somehow his decision to take matters into his own hands unnerves you more than his blatant signs of attraction. It didn’t help that he wordlessly left the store after that.

Today is your last shift before you leave for home. Oddly enough, Childe didn’t swing by the store ever since he left the other day, and he isn’t here right now as well. It makes you uneasy. Something’s wrong. You can feel it in your gut.

He hadn’t even contacted you or sent any cat videos or memes, and being the coward that you are, you left things as they were. Hope that you won’t see him again keeps you going and stops you from poking at the obvious issue lest it bites you back.

But… you feel a little guilty. Even now as you stare at the floor on the other side of the cash register, you can’t help but recall how Childe tried his best to keep conversation flowing during dinner despite getting a very rude lack of input from your side. He’s been trying, and you’re the one not giving him the time of day.

Nonetheless, relationships aren’t built on pity. You hope he finds someone else, someone more suited for him. That’s the only wish you have for him even if the moral ramifications are eating you up on the inside.

Still, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the question of what he meant by taking the chance when the opportunity presents itself. Does he somehow know about your flight? Well, if he did, he wouldn’t have disappeared. Best to end things on a good note rather than a bad one and stay in contact. But what if he doesn’t care anymore?

Though that outcome is the welcomed one, it still stings to think that. Someone losing interest in you isn’t exactly something that makes you feel good. Regardless, it’s welcome in this situation. You were never in favour of his attention being on you and you never will be.

At 7: 08 pm, the bell at the door chimes in goodbye as you step out. The evening rush hour greets you, and you go with the flow of the people rushing home after a long day or work. Well, it’s the weekend tomorrow. At least they have something to look forward to.

The building of your current residence comes into view and relief washes all over you. Just a bit more and you can get into bed. There’s still a few more hours till you leave, and all your luggage is packed. All you need to do is take a nap.

You practically skip to the entrance, the cool air of the lobby’s air conditioning hitting your face. No one is inside and you hurriedly make way to the elevator.

The nap you took felt like an entire night of rest. With a stretch, you jump out of bed to gather the rest of your things. It’s when you’re locking the door to your room when you realise just how quiet it is. Your apprehension is understandable, if not relatable. You’ve never exited your room after coming back home for the day, so you have no idea what the building is like after a certain hour.

Dragging your suitcase with one hand, hand carry with the other, you haul them both and yourself - the backpack on your shoulders being an honourable mention - inside the elevator. The air is uncharacteristically cool and dry, something elevator music fails to get your mind off of.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it in favour of dragging your luggage outside the elevator and into the lobby. Who would be calling this late? Probably your mother. The video call would cut when you step out and the Wifi disconnects, so it doesn’t matter. Key left at the receptionist’s desk, you mentally thank yourself for checking out online in the evening but pray that the key is still here by morning.

Hesitation wins and you end up leaving it next to the pen holder. You were told to drop it off at the desk. It’s not your fault it’s unattended.

The bus stop is a five minute walk away, so with a deep breath, you step out of the lobby and to the outside, allowing the night’s cool breeze to caress your face as your luggage stays grasped in either hand. Your eyes land on the empty road, praying that you don’t get creeped out by the lack of people.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you take a step forward, then another, and another, till you’re a few metres away from the building’s entrance. The breeze is still blowing and the air is cool so you won’t be hot during your wait at the sto-

“[Name]?”

The breeze stops blowing.

“Where are you going at this hour? And… why… is your luggage with you?”

Your breathing is the next to stop, though only momentarily.

Almost on instinct, you let go of everything in your hands and reach for the phone in your pocket. You don’t even bother looking at the source of the voice, eyes glued to ‘Childe’ glowing on your screen as the contact of the missed call. Heart hammering in your chest, you slowly turn to look at him.

Regret and fear seep into your bones at the same time. He’s wearing something similar to what he usually did in the beginning, garnet dress shirt and dark grey dress pants. The gloves on his hands cover his palms but leave the majority of the back of his hands exposed, phone held in the leather grip.

What your eyes focus on first, however, is the earring. It catches the light from the lobby behind him like a beacon, but you’re quick to look away and into the blue irises of his empty gaze.

There’s no time for you to question why you didn’t hear him before he spoke up.

“Are you leaving?” He takes a step forward, phone slipping inside his pocket, and you take a step back. The reaction is all he needs from you to raise his hands in surrender, only coming closer when the wary look on your face softens into something more observant.

“Are you going back home?” Childe stands only one step away when he asks that and tilts his head waiting for an answer. He receives one in the form of a nod, and questions further. “When’s your flight?”

“Half past 3 am,” is your reply.

“So you have a little less than four hours,” he points out. “I actually came here to talk to you. I uh… I missed you and couldn’t help it. If I knew you were leaving, I would have come sooner.”

You’re still watching him attentively, the clothing he’s wearing sufficient to ring alarm bells in your head. “So you wanted to talk?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” you bite your lip, “I guess I’m not running late. The bus will be here in fifteen minutes anyway, so I have time to spare.”

“Perfect!” He grabs both of your luggages and drags them in the opposite direction of your intended destination: the bus stop. It takes a stern question from you for him to stop and look at you with that empty gaze again. “I’m just taking you to my car. I’ll drop you off. There’s no need to bother yourself with the bus.”

Any demurrance from your side is promptly shut down and smoothed over with reassurances that he’d get you to the airport safe and sound. As your packed belongings sit next to the car, Childe eases the backpack off your shoulder and leaves it on top of them.

It’s when he looks at you that the anxiety skyrockets, eating away your consciousness. Alone with Childe, a highly ranked member of the mafia, at near midnight with all your belongings and an assurance to be dropped off the airport safe and sound is an obvious problem.

You should have listened to the uneasy feeling in your gut back in the store.

“So,” he drawls, standing a foot away from you with his hands in his pockets, “I know I was brash and that I shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable and also should have apologised to you later, but I won’t.”

That causes you to perk up, anxiety dying down a little. “You… won’t?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I won’t. It’s because I’m not going back on my words. I know you don’t view me as a potential partner, let alone friend, but that isn’t going to stop me.”

You don’t like where this is going.

Childe continues, eyes still boring into yours. “I don’t understand why you’re afraid of me. I’ve told and showed you countless times that I’m not going to do anything. It’s pointless to waste your energy. All I want is to exclusively be yours and call you mine. Why would I ever do anything to you if that’s what I wish for?”

The sir suddenly feels too suffocating, like not enough oxygen is filling your lungs. There’s a subtle darkness in your vision, one you deal with by walking to and leaning on the parked car, not that it helps. Not with the deeper breaths you’ve started taking. It doesn’t take any more indications for Childe to rush to your side, an unwelcome hand gently stroking your back.

The breeze flows again, caressing your face and blowing through your hair, but you’re still sweating.

You don’t know what happens next, just that you’re inside the car, the AC turned on, a light shining over your head, and a hand still running up and down your back while you take mouthfuls of breaths. They’re quicker now, you note, and a hand - your own hand - rises to cover your mouth as your sight and self-awareness is restored.

The confusion and vulnerability hits you like a truck and the tears simply fall harder.

Each and every time the hand moves over your back, you feel like more of your skin was peeled off, goosebumps still littering over your arms. It takes several minutes for you to somewhat calm down and become cognizant of your emotions and actions. It doesn’t come as a surprise when the first thing you decide to do in that state is cry harder.

What are you crying for? You don’t know. It’s hard enough as it is to just continue breathing. Processing your emotions is for later.

A hand, a foreign one, gently lifts your face, allowing the dashboard to come into view, and turns it to the source. Childe’s blurry image greets you as your chest heaves, warm thumbs swiping away the tears rapidly running down your cheeks. You don’t have time to dwell on where his gloves disappeared to, focusing on the feeling of his warm thumbs feeling cool over your tear stricken face.

Several minutes pass again, and you sit with your face in your hands while Childe puts your luggage inside the car trunk. Reddened, swollen eyes meet his blue ones in the silence of the car, your sniffling being the only sound. Whatever you just experienced was horrible. Had Childe not been… no. He is part of the cause. Him helping you through it is the least he could have done.

The driver’s seat is quickly occupied once again, and Childe breaks the silence, concern present all over his face. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod, too uncertain in your ability to speak. His question of whether or not you want some water is met with a shake of your head, and Childe settles with pressing his lips into a thin line.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think it would upset you that much.”

Voice slightly raspy, you reply after clearing your throat. “It’s alright. I… I didn’t see it coming as well.”

He slumps into his seat, head turned to look at you. Childe’s eyes glaze over your body, looking for potential signs of fear. It seems to him that you’re dazed, confused. It’s advantageous for him, if not relieving. Seeing you afraid or in pain doesn’t elicit any positive feelings.

After receiving your permission, Childe puts on his seatbelt - all the while making sure you fasten yours as well - and reverses the car, intending to drive you to the airport. You’re a bit late compared to what you originally planned, but you suppose he can get you there on time.

The car is eerily quiet with the lack of music. There’s no gentle humming from Childe, only the sound of either of you breathing. Unfortunately for you, the silence fails to last.

“So when are you coming back?” Childe’s voice is calm, flat. He’s completely casual in his question despite your concern that he wouldn’t take kindly to being lied to about such a thing.

“It’s one way,” you lie. Not being held accountable for your verbal deceit helps you gain some confidence. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll be back for class obviously.”

The car is silent again for a while and it fills you with hope for a quiet ride, one where you would get off, thank Childe profusely, and head home never to see him again. Alas hope is crushed, and you freeze in your seat, muscles tensing when Childe speaks again.

“How much more are you going to lie?”

Childe continues driving, acting unaffected with his demeanour and tone, but it wouldn’t take a genius to know that him gripping the steering wheel in a bone crushing grip is anything but him being casual.

No. He’s certainly upset, and you’re afraid you’re too much at his mercy.

“I gave you another chance and you ruined it.” Childe’s fingers tap rhythmically on the steering wheel, voice even as he speaks. “Why don’t we try again? When’re you coming back?”

You bite your tongue when you feel the initial signs of panic bubbling up your throat. It takes a bit of force to make yourself speak, even if it’s in a more fearful way. “Seven weeks. I’ll be home for seven weeks.”

“You’re not going to block me on your socials when you get there, are you?”

With a shake of your head, you continue looking out the window. “No.”

He hums, satisfied at your cooperation. “Good.” The car takes a turn, the empty roads seemingly omnipresent. “I’m not going to do anything. I just wanted to know the truth… er, more like hear it directly from you.”

A few minutes of silence pass, but it doesn’t last because you can’t stay quiet for longer. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“I am?” The smile in his voice is evident.

“Yes, you are.” You turn to look at him, nervously gulping at his grin. “Stop messing around.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Childe!”

Your panic fails to affect him in any way. With the fuzziness growing in your mind, there’s not much you can do except grab onto his sleeve. That causes him to look at you, even if just for a moment, but that’s all you get for a reaction. As a last resort, you reach for your phone in your pocket but freeze when you don’t feel the device.

You don’t need to say anything for Childe to provide the answer to your question. “Your phone isn’t there. It’s with me, I’m afraid.”

“Childe,” you say, voice low and pleading, “please stop screwing around.”

He sounds slightly offended when he replies. “You think I’m screwing around?”

“Yes!” Your exclamation doesn’t seem to affect him, so you opt for a more direct approach. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I came with you because I trusted you.” The words are spat out, but Childe only seems amused.

“Trusted me?” He chuckles. “Sweetheart, if you trusted me, you would’ve told me about your flight from the start instead of lying about putting in a one week notice. You’re scared of me, and despite the fact that it stings like salt on an open wound, I suppose there’s some merit to that as well.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

You bite the inside of your cheek now. There’s no way you can tell what Childe means by what he said. Judging from your previous conversations as well, your fear of him is a sour spot, but maybe you could exploit that to your favour.

“I’m afraid of you, because of your unpredictability and that is exactly what you are demonstrating right now.” You grab onto his sleeve again, albeit more desperately this time. “You gave me more reasons to fear you than you did to like you.”

The car slows, as if synchronised with Childe’s thought process. “Is that… really what you think of me?”

“Yes,” you reply in an even voice. “I was already a little scared from what I heard from people and then you started doing all this stuff-”

“Stuff like what?”

“Stuff like this!”

He sighs, moving the steering wheel to stop the car at the side of the road. “I just told you that I can’t ever hurt you, and you’re still calling me scary?”

Your eyes focus on his expression, specially searching for any signs of him lying - hypocritical on your part - but fail to find anything other than sincerity. The grip on his sleeve loosens, your hand ultimately returning to your lap, when he turns to face you. It’s intimidating to look into his dead eyes but it still makes you wonder how such a beautiful colour can be so lifeless.

Childe’s lips move and despite your feelings you find yourself absolutely memorised by the plush pink as his voice leaves his mouth.

“I’m not changing my mind.”

His declaration forces you to focus on his words, any attraction be damned.

“Lying to me and saying that you haven’t decided on leaving for home did get on my nerves a little,” he says, “but I forgive you. You’re cute, so I can’t stay mad at you for long.”

You let his words sink in. He says that he forgives you for the lie, but what now?

“Alright,” you drawl, voice nervous, “now can we please go to the airport?”

Childe leans in, a smile on his face. “How about instead of the airport, we go home?”

The word ‘home’ catches your attention and dread settles in. If he’s implying what you think he is, then you don’t think you’ll be able to catch your flight, let alone get to the airport.

“Childe,” you croon, “I think we have some misunderstandings. Before either of us does something impulsive and hurtful, let’s just talk it over.”

He just looks amused. “Oh? Talk over what? You’re the one pushing me away.”

You try again to de-escalate. “I only told you that I don’t want a relationship.”

“Liar.” Childe’s hand reaches for the edge of your seat, the skin below his collarbones and a little bit of his chest visible as he leans in closer. “We’ve already had this discussion before. Since you’re cute and obviously not in very good mental shape at the moment, I’ll give you a little bit of advice. Let me do my thing. I’m not going to hurt you, just… change your scenery a little.”

You narrow your eyes at him upon saying the word ‘scenery’. Though consternation eats you up on the inside, you trust that Childe wouldn’t do anything to you, at least not physically. What he is currently planning to do is a different matter.

Patience, you remind yourself. That might just be the only thing you have left.

“Now that that’s settled,” he says, going back to the steering wheel, “why don’t I take you home? I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s more comfortable and spacious than where you were living.”

In the most calm and even voice you could muster, you try pleading with him again. “Childe, please. Don’t do something that would make me hate you.”

He doesn’t even look at you when he answers. The lack of smile and his eyes fixed on the road as he continues driving does not help ease your increasing dread. “It might be a small bump, but the end destination is what matters in this case, not the journey.”

You glance to the door handle in an act of desperation but bite your lip when all hope is lost at the sight of the lock. Month old words hit you like a truck, patience being some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them. After all this time, would it be wise to believe you’ll be alright?

#childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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writeonwhiskey · 3 months

Text

the skz house: ch 19 (18+)

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i appreciate you 🩵 and thank you, readers, or your patience.

[ read chapter 18 here ]

Chapter 19: Of Christmas & Chokers

Over the next few days, the comfortability between you and Chan deepens. Whether you’re in the room or out being tourists, you remain almost glued together—holding hands, sitting on his lap, hugging each other, kissing. Your conversations flow naturally and without tension. In an alternate universe, perhaps this would have been an ideal trip for a couple in love. As delusional as you may have become in believing this could be a new normal, you keep one foot grounded in reality. Well, maybe not the whole foot…but at least a pinky toe.

Your days are packed with several activities such as a nighttime ATV ride, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. You both have the time of your life letting loose. Speeding, swerving, screaming at the rush of it all. You’ve never seen Chan smile so much. He is different when he’s free of the responsibility of being Chapter President…he’s carefree. You tell yourself regardless of how this ends, you’ll be glad you at least got to see him like this.

You go to a local amusement park where Chan is determined to make you face your fear of rollercoasters. However, after the second ride leaves you nearly in tears, Chan puts that mission to rest.

You venture back out on the water on a jet ski. Chan lets you do most of the driving that day, but you soon realize it’s a set up. When you’re far out enough from the beach, his hands on your hips find their way between your legs. He kisses your neck and tells you to turn off the jet ski. He fucks you with his fingers until you come, whispering in your ear how hard his cock is and what he plans to do to you later.

One of the days while you and Chan are out, the hotel staff add holiday decorations around the room, including a small, 4ft tree in the corner near the balcony windows. It makes you squeal with glee upon seeing it. You assume it’s all the hotel’s doing. Lee Know wouldn’t have done something so nice. Would Chan? He doesn’t claim it, if he had put them up to it. It doesn’t matter, though, it makes you happy to see and feel more of the holiday spirit.

When Christmas Eve comes around, there’s a break in the itinerary since a lot of places are closed for the holiday. You wind up sleeping in quite late for your standards and when you finally open your eyes, Chan is wide awake in the bed next to you. He’s sitting up, back against the pillows, laptop in front of him and headphones covering his ears. He’s consumed by whatever he’s doing, but as soon as you turn to face him, his eyes shift from the screen to you.

“She has risen,” he jokes, moving one headphone away from his ear.

“I needed that,” you reply, stretching beneath the blankets. “How long have you been up?”

“A while,” he says with a shrug. “Just working on our chapter project.”

You smile inwardly. Typically, his response would have finished with ‘a while’, you would have had to dig and pry for any further information. He, for now at least, is freely providing you with further details.

“Chapter project?” you ask. You recall hearing him discuss it months ago, but never knew what it was.

“Just something we have to put together to memorialize the year,” he tells you. He turns the laptop so you can see the screen. You recognize the sight of a music program with tracks and layers but have no further understanding of it.

“Putting your minor to use?”

“Kind of. It doubles as my senior project for the minor, so that’s a plus.” He starts moving things around on the screen, opening a folder aptly titled ‘Chapter Project’. He clicks on a few files, opening them to show you as he speaks. “I want to incorporate songs I’ve worked on with different things from the other members—Hyunjin’s artwork for example.”

You know Chan is a good student. All of the members are, really, but you know some of them drag their feet and procrastinate until the last minute. You’ve caught Hyunjin, Changbin and Jeongin rushing to meet midnight deadlines more than once.

“Can I hear something?”

You sit up on the bed, back against the pillows like Chan. The blanket falls from your chest, exposing your breasts.

“Only if you put those things away,” he says, looking pointedly at your breasts, then up to your eyes, then back down again.

“What things?” you ask innocently, leaning back against the headboard and pushing your chest out even more.

Seizing the opportunity, Chan leans over and captures your nipple in his mouth. You let out a surprised scream as he bites down around it. You push him away, swatting his arm. You promptly pull the blanket up to cover them before holding out your hand for his headphones.

He hands them over with a smile, and you put them on. He shuffles a few things around on the screen before a video starts. You assume the graphics are of Felix’s design as it feels like something you’d see in a video game. A song accompanies the images and you’re surprised to hear Chan’s voice over a jovial sounding beat, followed by Seungmin, then Changbin. You didn’t know any of them could sing.

The video is only about a minute long but you feel dumbfounded when it’s over. You remove the headphones and pass them back to Chan.

“I like it,” you say with a smile. “It’s…surprisingly good.”

“You underestimating me?” he asks teasingly.

“My mistake,” you say sarcastically, placing a hand over your heart. “Is that a cover?”

“No, it’s an original song,” he tells you, turning the laptop back so it’s facing him. “Just waiting on Felix to finish rendering the rest of the graphics, then that one will be done.”

“You’re doing more?”

“A few more. It’ll be a mini-album.”

“Do I get a copy?”

“Hmmm…maybe. If you ask nicely.”

“Oh, never mind then,” you say nonchalantly.

Chan turns to look at you, biting his tongue between his teeth to keep from smiling as he nods.

“I’ll remember that.”

You slide down against the pillows, then turn on your side so you’re still facing him.

“I had no idea you guys could sing,” you tell him.

“Participating in choir was mandatory at our boarding school,” he shrugs. “We can hold a note.”

Chan is full of so many surprises. Most of them pleasant, these days. You want to uncover all there is to know about him, but you know you’ll never be given the time.

You cuddle up to him as he puts his headphones back on. You just lay there and watch him work, expertly navigating around the screen as he continues composing the song. You want to ask why he’s not majoring in music. You already know the answer to that, though. The choices for his future aren’t exactly his to make. His parents decided he would major in business, and sadly that’s all there is to it.

Your heart aches for him—you can see the work he put in to make something creative, the passion he has for it. And he can’t even pursue it.

It’s now 11:00pm and you and Chan have just returned to the hotel room. After dinner you both wanted to get out of the room for a bit and ended up at one of the only places open—the Magic City casino. The hours spent there are a bit of a blur. It was news to you that anyone playing at the tables or slot machines could get free drinks, so you both decided to indulge. Being so far from the hotel, though, Chan didn’t let either of you get too drunk.

As soon as you’re back to the room, Chan excuses himself to make a phone call and disappears out onto the balcony. You change into your pajamas—a pair of thin, loose fitting shorts and matching top—and return to the living room. You turn on the TV, stopping on the first channel you see playing a Christmas themed movie to entertain you while you wait for him to return. From all the food and drinks, you start to doze off until the sound of the heavy balcony door opening stirs you.

“Everything okay?” you ask when he comes back in.

“Mm,” is his reply, with a small nod of his head. “It’s Christmas day back home. I’m gonna get changed.”

You can only nod as well. His tone sounds a bit sad so you’re not sure what to say. Maybe he’s missing spending the holiday with his little brother and sister. And that makes you sad. It’s your fault he’s not with them.

Chan comes back into the living room clad in a plain black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He sits down next to you and throws his arm around the back of the couch behind you.

All of your life you had never considered yourself to have a one-track mind but now? With Chan? Seeing him in those grey sweatpants puts one thing at the forefront of your mind, drowsiness and sadness pushed aside. You’ve got to get a hold of yourself.

“Should I open the bottle of wine the hotel left?” you suggest.

“Sure,” is his simple reply.

You stand and retrieve the bottle from the kitchen, along with two wine glasses. You pop the cork and fill both glasses before returning to Chan, handing him one.

“You sure everything’s alright? You seem a bit down…”

You don’t want the tension in the air to linger through the night and this trip has built your courage to address him this way.

“I’ll be fine,” he tells you with a soft smile. He clinks his glass against yours before downing his in one go. “You trying to stay up ‘til midnight for your present?”

You take a sip from your wine glass; happy he’s taking the initiative to change the subject to something lighter.

“I don’t see any presents under that tree,” you say, looking in the corner where the small tree is lit up.

“I haven’t put them there yet.”

“Them?”

As in multiple.

He nods.

“Oh no,” you say, a look of panic taking over your features.

You weren’t sure the two of you would even be exchanging gifts. Not only that, but you don’t feel like you truly know enough about him to get a well thought out present. And you love giving gifts. Hyunjin has a never-ending need for art supplies, so you immediately knew what to get him. You were completely puzzled when it came to Chan.

It was only after the staff added the tree that you thought it’d be nice for him to wake up with something under the tree. Being on vacation, though, you were in a bit of a predicament. All you really had convenient access to was the gift shop.

He must sense your apprehension.

“It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything,” he tries to appease you.

When the panicked look on your face turns into a frown, he takes the wine glass from your hand and places it next to his on the side table. He then pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him and cups your face with both hands, stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“It’s fine,” he says in a sharper tone that makes you nod in acceptance.

“I would have never imagined I’d be spending Christmas Eve with you, let alone exchanging gifts,” you tell him, leaning your forehead against his. “From English classmates to this? Never in my wildest dreams.”

“That wasn’t our first class together,” he says matter-of-factly. He leans back against the couch and takes both of your hands in his, lacing his fingers through.

You furrow your brow at his statement. You wrack your brain for any other class you may have had with him but can’t come up with any.

“What? When?”

“Freshman year…Anthropology 101. In the lecture hall.”

You think back to freshman year and the classes you took. You did, in fact, take an Anthropology course. In a large lecture hall with something close to 100 other students, including your ex.

“I always sat in the back—you were always somewhere up front. Being a nerd, I guess,” he teases. You try to pull your intertwined hands from his to hit him, but he holds onto them tighter, bringing them to his chest. “You look cute when you’re focused, you know that?”

Your brain feels like mush. None of this is ringing a bell.

“Do you remember the presentation you did for extra credit? A family heirloom?”

Now that, you do remember.

“You were so nervous, but I swear it made you look even cuter. The way you talked about the heirloom…” he continues. “…your grandmother’s bracelet, I think it was…”

“Yes,” you say softly.

The bracelet your grandmother gave your mother, who then passed it on to you, and one day you’ll give it to your own child. It feels odd to hear Chan speak about it. Something so deeply personal to you. Granted, you did tell an entire class of strangers about it. But the fact that he remembers it, remembers you?

The fact that he’s known of you this long? Why hadn’t he mentioned it before?

“Why don’t I remember you being in that class?” you ask, struggling to process this new shared history and the words he’s just spilled about you simultaneously.

“It was freshman year…plenty of stuff going on and…your ex,” he shrugs.

He hits the nail on the head with that comment. That class is where you met him.

“You know, the first few weeks of the SKZ house before we bring anyone in?” Chan asks rhetorically, “I thought maybe I’d work up the nerve to talk to you while I could…but then he was there. Always sitting next to you. Even with the class we had this semester. I thought again, maybe it was a sign, you know? But he was waiting for you outside the door after the first class ended.”

You feel a pang of sadness, hearing that. Maybe in a different timeline if he had come talk to you, things would be different. You imagine getting to know a bright-eyed freshman Chan, eager and optimistic to take on the world. Maybe he would have opted out of having an assignee if it were possible, maybe he really could have been yours.

“I remember one of the last lectures you came in with your eyes all puffy,” he continues, disrupting that dangerous train of thought, “like you’d been crying. You didn’t sit anywhere near him that day. I always wondered what happened.”

You open your mouth to speak but close it immediately. What can you say to that? To any of this? Had he really paid such close attention to you? All this time?

“He used to treat you like shit, you know.”

At that remark, you set your lips in a firm line. You untangle your hands from his and cross your arms in front of your chest. It’s true, but hearing Chan say it hits too close to home.

“And you treated me any better?”

Chan takes in your closed off body language and a silence falls over you. Neither of you want this bubble you’re in to burst yet. Perhaps he’s regretting saying any of this at all.

“The day you showed up at our house…” he speaks up again after a while, “I felt sick to my stomach, y/n. Like the universe was playing some sick fucking joke on me.”

He places his hands on your thighs, squeezing and rubbing them.

“When it came time to choose assignees, I couldn’t let you end up with anyone else. I’ve never pulled rank like that before as the chapter president, but with you I had to…and I knew Hyunjin would be good for you, too.”

You shake your head in disbelief.

The day in the hot tub creeps back into your mind. When you told Chan that your time with Hyunjin had been great and he replied with ‘I know. I’m glad’. You didn’t fully understand it then. Now, it’s as if Chan knew the emotional rollercoaster he was going to send you on and wanted to make sure you had a harness. Hyunjin.

You let out a low breath and place your hands on top of your head, locking your fingers together. This is a lot to take in.

“So, your plan was to selfishly claim me and treat me like shit?” You ask after a moment.

“I wouldn’t call it a plan,” he says in a sad tone. “I knew that I was attracted to you and after our first few nights together I had to do something to keep boundaries in place.”

The conversation you shared on the beach clarified his drive for the spankings and edging. You understand his reasonings. You know that his sexual desires and fantasies with you are kept separate from his emotional connection to you. However, it’s confusing and frustrating to know he clearly felt something for you prior to you joining the SKZ House and still kept that brick wall firmly in place between you.

“So, you wanted to fuck me and still treat me like shit then?” You can’t help the bitter edge to your tone.

“I didn’t wanna get to close—clearly I’ve failed,” he admits. “It’s just always been in the back of my mind how long I’ve wanted you and now that I get to have you, there’s an expiration date.”

“What happens when we get back? You start treating me like that again?”

He averts his gaze from you.

“I don’t know how to—” he stops abruptly and shakes his head.

“Chan,” you say softly, reaching out to turn his head back to face you. “Please.”

“I don’t know how to be with you and be genuinely happy in this fucked up situation, y/n. I’m not gonna want it to end…but it has to.”

You sigh, resting your hands on his chest. As much as it hurts to admit, he’s right. You don’t like the thought of having to leave either of them. With Hyunjin, though, you know he will move on with ease which makes losing him slightly easier. Chan, on the other hand, after all the ground you’ve broken, the progress you’ve made…having to throw it all away will be hard. On both of you, you’re coming to realize.

But how else could you have gotten to know him? If you hadn’t shown up at the SKZ house, Chan would have once again had another assignee and not been able to interact with you anyways. Perhaps you both should at least be thankful for the time you’ve been given and enjoy it while you can.

“You can’t go back to being an asshole, Chan,” you tell him softly.

“I know.”

He grabs onto your hips and pulls you closer to him until you’re forced to lay against him. You rest your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You stay like that for a while, the movie playing in the background but neither of you watching it. You want to remember this moment, how it feels to physically and mentally be this close to him.

An alarm suddenly goes off on his phone and Chan quickly silences it. He cups one hand around the back of your neck to guide your head up. His brown eyes bore into yours, still lingering in this shared moment. You hold his face in your hands, staring right back, not backing down. It’s not an intense stare…more like one of silent pleading and unspoken questions. You bring your face to his and place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Wait here,” he says, kissing you once more before sliding you off his lap.

He disappears into the bedroom and when he comes back, heads straight for the Christmas tree. He places two wrapped boxes under it and you mentally kick yourself again. You hadn’t even wrapped his. Even so, you can’t hide the smile that takes over your face at the sight and the thought he must have put into this.

“Should I get yours?”

“So you did get me something?” he asks with a smirk.

“I did…but seeing that,” you say, pointing to the neatly wrapped presents under the tree, “I don’t even want to give it to you anymore.”

“It’s fine,” he says again. “I’ll wait until tomorrow. Come pick one.”

You stand from the couch and walk over to him and the tree. Both boxes are square in shape, one larger than the other. You deliberate for a moment before reaching for the larger one. You sit on the floor and pull it towards you, surprised by its weight. You look up at Chan and when he doesn’t move to join you, you pull on his hand until he sits.

“Did you wrap this yourself?”

“I asked the housekeeper to help me out with it,” he tells you.

“Resourceful.”

He taps his temple with his pointer finger.

You start ripping away the wrapping paper to reveal a white box beneath. You can’t hold back your smile as you pull the top part of the box off. You set it aside and pull out the tissue paper. When your eyes land on what’s inside, your mouth drops.

A folded, white lab coat with your last name embroidered across the breast area sits on top. You reach out and run a finger across the stitching. It feels surreal to see.

“I figured you’d need it when you go off to vet school.”

You look up at him, still smiling. You will definitely need it. Along with several other items you were already wondering how you would afford, without having to ask your parents for even more money. That’s part of the reason you ultimately decided to join the SKZ house and save the money they were sending you. At least the majority of it would go towards the next steps in your education.

“Thank you, Chan.”

It’s a thoughtful gift. And you feel the guilt of your shitty gift building.

“There’s more…” he nods towards the box.

And the guilt continues.

You lift the lab coat out of the box and gently set it outside the box. The next item is a set of black scrubs, your name embroidered on the shirt as well. You left them out of the box and sit them on top of the lab coat. When your eyes land on the item at the bottom of the box, your jaw drops again.

You reach inside the box and retrieve the stethoscope. This was one of the pricier items you hadn’t been looking forward to purchasing. You bring it closer to inspect, smiling widely. You immediately recognize it as one of the more expensive brands. It, too, is engraved with your name around it.

You feel your eyes begin to prickle and you blink furiously, not wanting to cry, but you can’t help it. It’s a thoughtful gift. One that you’ll get to take with you when the year is over. A reminder of Chan you get to keep with you forever.

You slowly raise your eyes to look at him, shaking your head softly.

“You don’t like it?” he asks, “Is it not the right kind? I wasn’t really sure…”

“It is—it is,” you say, your voice cracking. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and clear your throat. “It’s perfect. It’s all perfect, Chan. Thank you.”

“Wanna test it out?”

Your smile returns at that and you nod, placing the ear tubes in your ears and sliding closer to him. He pulls you onto his lap once again, putting your legs on either side of him, your butt resting on his folded legs.

You grab the bell end of the stethoscope with one hand and pull at the hem of his t-shirt with the other, lifting it up. You then place the diaphragm end to his chest and he instantly moves back, grabbing your wrist.

“That’s cold doc,” he says, voice muffled and rumbling through the ear piece.

“Sorry, I’m a rookie,” you reply sheepishly.

You bring the diaphragm end to your mouth and breathe on it to warm it up before placing it back over his heart. The digital reader immediately lights up, reading his heart rate. But you’re not focused on it. You’re looking directly into his eyes, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

“Sounding healthy?” he asks.

You nod.

“Well, we should make sure the reading is accurate, too.”

He cups the back of your neck and pulls your face closer, bringing your lips to his. With his other hand, he holds your wrist and the stethoscope in place. You can hear his heartbeat quicken as you kiss. You grind your hips against his, causing the steady thumping in your ear to beat faster. You want to get lost in the sound of his body’s reaction to you.

He uses his hand on your back to assist your grinding, making sure you can also feel his body’s reaction to you.

Not wanting to jeopardize the safety of your present, you break the kiss and pull the ear tubes out. His hand drops from your wrist allowing you to turn and set the stethoscope neatly on top of the pile of the other presents behind you.

Before you can even turn back around, Chan is changing your position. He holds onto your back tightly as he lowers you down to the floor.

“I won’t write a negative review just yet—but you’ve got some learning to do, doc.”

You like to hear him call you that.

“I’m a fast learner,” you reply.

“Oh, I know,” he says with a wink.

He remains sitting in front of you, his legs still crossed, while you’re lying down. Your legs are draped over his thighs, feet on the ground on either side of him. He pushes your shirt up to expose your stomach and lightly runs his fingers in a zig-zag pattern all the way down until his hand is between your legs. The thin, pajama shorts you’re wearing are a loose fit and don’t do much to keep him out. Not that you’d want that.

He easily moves the fabric aside and his eyes snap to yours when he realizes you aren’t wearing any underwear.

“I only packed so many for the trip,” you laugh and shrug. “I can’t keep messing them up with you.”

He smirks and nods his agreement.

He slides his fingers up and down your slit, teasing your pussy until his fingers become saturated with your slick. He slowly inserts his ring and middle finger inside of you as he places his other palm on your lower stomach. You rock your hips against him in response. He curls his fingers, pressing against your inner walls each time he withdraws his hand, all the while applying steady pressure with his palm.

You can really feel his fingers rubbing against you, and you know he can too. His eyes are on his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, then move up to your writhing body, then your face. A soft smile plays out on his lips as he watches your reaction. He adds his thumb on your clit into the mix and you let out a moan.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes.

You bite your lip between your teeth, arching your back. You’re too caught up in the sensations to formulate a response.

“You wanna come on my fingers?” he asks, slowing them down. “Or on my cock?”

You moan again.

“Both.”

“Greedy,” he says with a soft chuckle, still moving his fingers in and out at an achingly slow pace.

“Mmmm, yes. For you.”

Any part of him you can have.

He moves his fingers quicker, thumb still circling your clit. You sit up a little, placing your hands behind you to hold you up as you move your hips against his fingers.

He arches an eyebrow at this, a devilish smirk on his lips. He withdraws his fingers, and you protest with a whine and pout. He brings his fingers, coated in your slick, to your face and spreads it around your pouted lips. He watches closely as you lick your lips, then brings his hand to his mouth, sucking off the rest for himself.

The sight of him enjoying your taste always sends you off the rails. You grab a handful of his shirt and pull him to you until his lips are on yours. He seems a little startled, but he allows it. You kiss him, taste him, taste you.

Before you can have too much, he breaks the kiss but keeps his face against yours.

“I want you to open your other present now,” he says, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

“Not in the morning?” you ask, catching your breath.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “I wanna see it on you now.”

He stretches to the side to retrieve the present and you wrap your arms around his waist to keep from falling back. He grabs it and returns to his upright position before handing it to you.

You take the present and rip the wrapping paper, much less delicately than you did the first. What could this be? He wants to see it on you? You’re excited to find out. You toss all bits of the paper behind you without a care until just the box is left. You lift the lid from the box and inside is what appears to be…a collar?

You look up to Chan with an arched brow and he just smiles widely, baring all his pearly white teeth. The part of the collar that rests on the back of the neck is black, with a belt buckle-like fastener. On the front is a thick, silver linked chain (much like the one he wears on his wrist) with a silver heart hanging from it. The heart itself has several tiny jewels spread evenly around it. The way they glitter in the light, you hope its cubic zirconia…but knowing how deep Chan’s pockets go, they might just be diamonds. You bring the heart closer for inspection and see the words 'Good Girl' engraved on it.

You’re not sure what to make of it. Both the cost, the phrase and the gift itself. He wants you to wear this? Like a dog?

He takes it out of the box and drapes it around your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he can fasten it in the back. You look up at him as he hooks a finger through the heart and tugs on it. Pulling, pulling, restricting until it’s taught against your throat.

Oh. Oh.

“This okay?” he asks.

You appreciate that he’s asking. You’re convinced you’d let him walk you through the street with it, so long as he asks first.

You close the distance between you, placing your lips on his to convey your consent. He tugs a little tighter on the collar as you kiss before releasing it fully.

In the next moment, your hands are on his shoulders, pushing on them until his back is now against the floor. He doesn’t resist at all.

You reposition yourself comfortably on top of him. You put your hands on his biceps, squeezing them tightly before sliding up his arms to his hands. You move them up above his head then lace your fingers between his, holding them in place as you kiss him. You grind your hips into his and he lets out a moan. You feel his hardening cock pressed between your legs. You grind against it more, sliding your clit along his length. Your kisses become quicker, sloppier, as you keep grinding on him.

He tries to move his hands, but you squeeze them tighter. He lets out a grunt and uses more force to break free—reminding you that he was allowing you to keep them there. He sits up and wraps one arm around you, pulling you close as he starts to stand up. You wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He walks you both back over to the couch.

He unhooks your legs and lowers you so you’re standing in front of him. He leans down and claims your lips again, but you want him undressed. You reach for the hem of his shirt and start pulling it up. You break the kiss to get it completely off his head and before he can kiss you again, you push him onto the couch.

You lift your shirt above your head and as you’re reaching back to unhook your bra, you give a pointed look to his sweatpants. He lifts his hips from the couch and pushes them down.

“Does it look good?” you ask, running your fingers along the collar as you kneel in front of him.

He licks his lips in anticipation, “Better than I imagined.”

You reach for his hand and bring it to the collar. He tugs on the heart again, tightening it around your neck. He wraps his other hand around the base of his cock and pulls you towards it. You drop your jaw and take him in your mouth.

He sucks in a breath, watching you lower your mouth on him. He releases the collar and leans back into the couch. You replace your hand with his at the base, stroking his dick as you bob your head up and down.

You alternate between stroking, sucking, taking it out and smacking it against your lips. He moans and groans, body jerking in response to your actions. You love seeing him like this.

You take him out of you mouth fully and continue stroking him, moving your mouth instead to take each of his balls in your mouth, in turn. You glance up to his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lets out a deep breath.

“So,” you say, returning your attention to his cock, licking slowly around the tip. “You wanna come in my mouth or in my pussy?”

He looks down at you, only able to smile and shake his head at your use of his same words against him. He leans forward and grabs the heart of the collar once more, using it to pull you to him.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he asks, kissing along your lips.

You giggle and nod playfully in response.

He leans back, pulling on the collar to bring you with him until you’re forced to stand again. His other hand slips between your legs and he rubs your pussy with his fingers.

“I wanna fill you up here.”

You moan against his lips, and he releases the collar. He lightly pushes against your chest, so you stand fully then motions to your shorts. You turn around, bend over and pull them down. You move to straighten yourself, but he lurches forward to stop you.

He puts a hand on your back to keep you bent over. In the next instant you feel his other hand collide with your ass and you let out a surprised yelp. He rubs the wounded area on the right and brings his mouth to the left cheek, placing a wet kiss to it. You feel his teeth dig into your skin, causing you to gasp. He smacks the right cheek again.

He shifts his mouth to the surely reddening cheek, placing another wet kiss there. It soothes the stinging a bit. He slaps the left check, his palm gripping your ass when it lands. He then immediately slides his fingers between your legs, slipping along your wet slit until they find your opening. He pushes his fingers inside, you don’t even know how many, but it makes you feel full.

“Mmmm,” you moan, pushing back against him.

“You’re dripping for me,” he says, lacing kisses along each cheek.

“Always,” you reply. And it’s the truth.

He takes his fingers out of you and places both hands on your waist, guiding you down to him. He positions himself at your opening and you roll your head back as he slowly lowers you on his cock. You remain still when he’s fully inserted, just basking in the feel of him inside you.

You make small movements with your hips first, moving forwards and backwards.

“Fuck,” he exhales, gripping your hips tighter.

You like the way he sounds when you’re pleasing him.

You plant your feet firmly on the ground, your hands on his knees. You start to move up and down, bouncing on him and drawing more delicious groans from him.

He uses his hands on your waist to lift you higher and bring you down even harder. You cup your breasts, pinching your nipples to add to the pleasure you’re feeling. You don’t know if you’ll ever get tired of his cock filling you up. Though, you won’t exactly have the opportunity to find out.

You try to push the thought aside, but you can feel it distracting you.

Chan notices as your rhythm becomes out of sync with his. He pulls you all the way down against him, then slides his hand up your stomach, between your breasts, all the way to your neck. He covers the collar with his hand and pulls you back against his chest. You keep circling your hips on him, not wanting to lose the momentum.

“You okay?” he asks softly in your ear.

“Yeah,” you reply, but it’s a lie. “I want to see you.”

He repositions both of you so you’re lying fully on the couch and he’s on top of you. He guides one of your knees up and hooks your leg over his shoulder as he enters you again.

“Like this?”

You offer a silent nod, sliding your hands up his bare, chiseled chest, locking your fingers together behind his neck.

He starts moving again and you feel him sliding in and out, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze from his face. His eyes are locked on you too. This feels heavy, but neither of you comment on it. He turns his head to the side to place a kiss to the leg that’s slung over his shoulder, eyes never leaving yours.

Your hands leave his neck to roam through his hair, over his face, touching every part of him you can to commit to memory. You shift your mental focus to the way he feels, beneath your fingertips, his cock inside of you.

You want the Chan you’ve had for the past week for the rest of the time you have him. Open. Earnest. You try to convey this with your eyes as he continues thrusting in and out. He grabs your breast, squeezing it tightly and you part your lips and arch your back in response.

You don’t know if you’ll survive if he goes back to treating you like you don’t matter. You can’t let him do that to you. Can you?

“I know, I know,” he says in response to your unspoken qualms. He kisses your leg once more before releasing it to lay his body flat against yours. He wraps his arms around your head in a hug of sorts, as he continues his deep and steady strokes.

Chan isn’t fucking you tonight. He’s making love to you.

You slide one hand down to where the two of you are joined, finding your clit. He lifts slightly, allowing you more room to rub circles around it.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he commands.

You whimper at his words. Baby.

You rub your clit faster as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, still driving into you as deep as he can. He angles himself so that with each thrust his dick digs against your walls. It’s enough to drive you crazy. You’re whining, moaning, panting.

“Come for me,” he says again. “Come for me baby girl.”

Your hand on his chest goes for his throat. You squeeze your fingers around it and see his eyes darken, but he doesn’t stop you. He moves his hips faster, harder.

“Chan,” you pant, “please. Right there. Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

He keeps the same pace, same angle, same motions until you’re arching your back and squeezing his neck, digging your nails into his delicate skin as you come around his cock. He grits his teeth, grunting and pounding into you furiously as he comes right after.

His movements slow as he finishes. You release his neck and wrap your arms around it instead. He lowers himself on top of you, all but smothering you with his weight but you don’t care. This is a happy way to die, if it comes to that.

You kiss along his collar bone as you both catch your breath. His cock keeps twitching inside of you and you clench the walls of your pussy around him each time it does. His body jerks each time you do it.

“Stop, stop,” he pleads, chuckling softly.

You chuckle in response.

That was different. In ways you hadn’t imagined possible with Chan. The two of you stay on the couch, wrapped up in each other for a while longer.

The following morning, you’re both woken up by a knock at the door. Chan, just as confused as you, climbs out of bed to answer it. You hear him talking to someone and he returns a few moments later.

“Another Minho surprise,” he tells you. “A couples massage.”

“That actually sounds amazing,” you murmur, pushing off the blankets.

You both go to the bathroom and brush your teeth. You put your hair up in a messy bun then go to the living room while Chan lets in the masseuses. There’s one male and one female. After setting up their massage tables in the open space between the couch and the TV, they leave for the hallway allowing you both some privacy to remove your clothing.

Chan watches you undress with a sly smile on his face, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You stick your tongue out at him and throw your pajama shirt at his face, but he dodges it and catches it in his hand. He folds it neatly and sets it on the couch before removing his own shirt.

When you’re both settled on the tables, they re-enter.

“You’re with me, sir,” you hear Chan say and lift your head.

He’s motioning for the male masseuse to come to him.

“I need firmer hands,” he adds.

But you know that’s not it. No other man outside of the SKZ House is allowed to touch you in the way the masseuse will need to. You know it’s because of that. But it still makes you feel warm inside to think Chan personally doesn’t want anyone else touching you.

After the massage, you and Chan shower together then order a late brunch. He opens his present that you are now extremely embarrassed to give him. When he pulls out the pair of neon blue swim trunks with “Miami Vice” written on it, you hide your face, and he immediately laughs.

“These are loud,” he says. “I’ll wear them to the beach tomorrow.”

Next, he pulls out a refrigerator magnet with “Miami” written across it with palm trees surrounding it.

“To be fair,” you say, wanting to explain, “I had no clue what to get you. You’re not exactly an open book.”

“That is fair,” he agrees. He looks at you with a soft smile, as if he wishes things had been different. He kisses your forehead. “Thank you anyways.”

You spend your final two days mostly relaxing and staying close to the hotel. You spend time at the beach again, Chan in his neon blue swim trunks and looking fucking delectable in them.

Getting on the plane to go home, you’re hit with an overwhelming sense of sadness. Chan’s behavior hasn’t changed yet, and you’re praying that it doesn’t. That even though you both know how this has to end; he can find it within himself to not push you out again. You lean on him and hold his hand for most of the flight back.

Changbin picks you up from the airport and Chan rides up front while you sit in the back. He asks how the trip was and you both reply that it was good. He then addresses Chan in Korean and you’re left clueless in the back seat. But whatever is said, you can feel the weight of it from Chan’s reaction. He leans back in his seat, slouches, and runs his hand through his hair.

You try not to think much of it, but it must be important. They don’t typically speak Korean in front of any of the assignees unless it’s about something that, to be frank, is none of their business.

The car ride is over far too soon, and they still haven’t filled you in on what’s happening.

Once in the driveway, you notice a black car parked in front of the house with a Rolls Royce emblem on the front. You immediately furrow your brow, curiosity and anxiety spiking through the roof at this point.

Changbin exits the car first. You remain planted in the backseat, waiting for Chan to say or explain anything.

He lets out a low breath and leans back against the headrest, eyes closed.

“My dad’s here,” he announces.

Your eyes open wide, and even more confusion sets in. Is it an unexpected visit? Is he not happy to see his father?

“You don’t want him to be?” you ask slowly, carefully.

“Well, it’s never exactly a cause for celebration when any of our parents show up,” he says dryly. “Just…stay out of his way.”

Chan opens his door and you follow in suit.

Changbin has pulled the luggage from the trunk, he’s holding the handle to yours and Chan grabs his own. You move to walk past them both, but Chan grabs your arm to stop you.

You turn to face him, trying to read his expression but a mask is in place.

“Chan,” you say, placing a hand to his chest.

A glint, a flicker of something crosses over his eyes and you see your Chan for a split second.

He kisses your forehead.

“After us. And then straight upstairs, okay?” he says softly.

You nod your head and wait for them to walk to the door first.

As soon as you enter the house, you can feel the commanding presence of his father. Your eyes are drawn straight to him on the living room couch, looking all business in a tailored black suit, black hair slicked back.

“Appa.” Chan says.

“Hello,” you say politely with a small bow at the waist.

You know he told you to go straight upstairs, but it would feel rude to pass by without speaking to him.

His father spares half a glance at you before staring daggers at his son.

Changbin heads for the stairs with your suitcase and you follow him. You look back at Chan and offer as encouraging a smile as you can muster. Chan doesn’t turn to look at you. He walks towards his father like a man heading to the gallows and the sight of him like that punctures your already fragile heart.

[ read chapter 20 here ]

a/n: oof. thoughts? feelings? a lot to unpack here. thank you all again for your patience! and sorry the tags still aren't working :(

#stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #bang chan #bangchan fanfic #skz smut #the skz house #bang chan imagines #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n

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lovelettersforthedamned · 3 months

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He’s Mine (For Tonight)

✰ older!tasm!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.9k

✰ summary: a date night after work??? with the man you love?? yes, please.

✰ warnings: mentions of alcohol, mention of a bruise, a few kisses, mushy gushy fluff, peter is a gentleman but also a downright fool for the reader.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list

⋆ gif by @josshelps

The first few weeks of June brought that humid air that came along with living in the city. Brighter colors seemed to make their way out of the depths of people’s closets while the last bit of leaves sprouted on the trees. With the music playing along in your earbuds, you observe the little things of the changing of seasons.

You wipe the moisture off your forehead as you’re now aware of how harsh the sun is; the perspiring drink in your hand becomes a mirror image of you.

The rhythmic beat of the music stops suddenly as Peter’s name appears on the screen. Smiling to yourself, you answer the call, “Hey, Petey.” You know he hates that name, so he isn’t surprised when he hears your smile through the phone as you use the nickname you tease him with.

“Hey, bug,” he starts, as he leans back in his office chair, his fingers raking through his hair, “do you have any plans tonight?” Peter checks his watch, his work day soon ending as the clock strikes four-thirty.

You’re turning onto your apartment's street when you think about the coming hours, before shaking your head as if Peter was standing in front of you. You giggle to yourself at the mistake, “I have to let the neighbor's dog out, but either way…there’s nothing,” you reach your front door and push it open, the air conditioning hitting your face, “why? What are you thinking?” Unplugging your phone from your earbuds, you toss your phone onto the kitchen counter and put your boyfriend on speaker.

“I was thinking of going to that jazz bar over in the East Village,” he pauses as he thinks of the streets, “over on Thirteenth and First Ave.” Peter’s voice echoes throughout the space as you start to change into comfortable clothes.

Turning your head to hear him better, you can tell he’s walking home now, “Yeah, I’m up for it.” Your voice is raised a bit to make sure he can hear you. “Will your nightly activities interrupt our date night?”

He huffs a chuckle, “I think the city can give me one night out to spend with my gorgeous girl.” A warmth falls on your cheeks as you smile to yourself. Peter’s always found little ways to make you feel loved, including his way with words.

Slipping on your slippers, you open the door again to check on your neighbor's dog, your phone pressed to your ear, “I’ll be waiting for you.” A playful tone rings through your voice and makes its way to Peter, causing him to grin. You end the call with your usual ‘I love you’s, and continue to the apartment next door.

After finishing up with the tiny brown Dachshund, you catch Peter entering your shared apartment. You rush to him and greet him with a kiss, “Welcome home, handsome.” He leans down to give you a quick peck before holding the door open for you.

✰✰✰✰

By the time you two made it to the bar, it was well past six, and the place was crowded. The red light casts a deep hue onto your skin, something Peter can’t help but notice. You lead him through the crowd, hand in hand, as you find a table near the side of the stage. Peter pulls out your chair for you before you sit, the view of groups of people fills the room with life.

As you scan the room, Peter can’t help but stare at you. He’s always known you were effortlessly beautiful, ever since the day he met you: but looking at you now, it confirms it. With the sound of the brass instruments playing in the background, he’s awakened from his daze.

Reaching across the small table, you hold his hand, rubbing your thumb along his slightly bruised knuckles, “You’re the best, do you know that?”

Now it was his turn for a blush to spread across his cheeks, the red lights covering them, “Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

“Maybe,” you look into his eyes, “I just feel like you need to hear it more.” He brings your hand up to his mouth before placing a gentle kiss on the skin on the back of your hand. You were about to say how much you loved him, until a waitress interrupted the both of you, asking for your drink orders.

You’re both a little surprised as you begin to tell the woman what you want and after she leaves, you look back at Peter and giggle. It felt like you were both teenagers again, getting caught holding hands at the movie theater. With Peter, he still gave you those butterflies that you swore were only for kids.

For the rest of the night, you two were always within arm's distance. And on the walk home with a few drinks in, the two of you laughed the entire way. You joke that you probably look crazy to onlookers ahead, to which Peter says that he doesn’t care.

As long as Peter was by your side, you knew everything would be alright, even if his nightly activities made it hard to have him to yourself tonight selfishly.

⋆ author's note: hi you great and gorgeous people. long time no see! it's been a while, but i think im back? thank you guys for the support during my hiatus!! you're the best. ok, ily bye!!

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #fluff #marvel #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker #spiderman #tasm!peter parker

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therapycat21 · 1 year

Text

All Right Now Part 2

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description:The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None Social Media AU

It’s been a week since the incident at Arrowhead and Travis is still actively liking my posts but has not reached out yet. I'm taken from my thoughts by an incoming call from my manager Stacy.

“Hey y/n” she smiles brightly into the screen at me “hey, whats going on?” I ask her “they just had a major cancellation for the arrowhead stadium and need someone who can quickly put something together, they reached out so I thought I would check with you to see if you are comfortable doing this last minute?” I haven't done a concert in a while so why not I thought “yeah I can figure something out, when is it?” I ask her smiling.

“It’s gonna be this Saturday” she let’s me know before we talked a bit more before hanging up. I then open Instagram to start making a post to announce it to the fans.

Not even a second after posting it went viral and started to trend on twitter. I then get a notification

Killatrav added your post to their story!

I clicked on the notification to see he did indeed add my post to his story with the caption. "Tickets have been bought ;)" I blush before liking the story and decided to look through his account, it only consists of ads, and funny clips from a podcast he has with Jason, and pictures of him dressed really nice. I decided to like his recent posts and click my phone off before I do anymore damage. I guess I'm performing at the stadium now. I smile before I rush off into contacting everyone for the concert.

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Saturday Morning

The day is finally here, I've been up since 5 am getting myself together to head over to the stadium for the show tonight, trying to remember the setlist and dance moves. Stacy knocks on the room door in the stadium "everything is all set, you ready?" she questions knowing I can get really bad nerves before a show. I smile, it reaching my eyes for the first time in a long time "surprisingly I am"

I laugh “okay good, I’m gonna go and head to my seat, you’re gonna do amazing” she tells me before reaching to open the door. Before she leaves she quickly lets me know “oh by the way, kylie, Jason, and Travis are here in the V.I.P box.” she smirks at me before finally closing the door. My face formed into shock knowing they actually came, especially Travis, I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves

“You’re gonna do amazing”

“You always kill it”

“You've worked hard to get here”

I keep telling myself the three before I’m interrupted by the door opening and them letting me know it is time for me to start heading to the stage.

I quickly start to head over to the stage and see all of the dancers starting to get into position, I can hear the crowd starting to scream from the lights starting to move, I’m then handed my microphone and decide to talk to them before they can see me

“let’s talk some nonsense yall”

I hear the crowd scream even louder before I’m finally revealed. I smile brightly “hello my loves” I laugh before the intro to my son nonsense comes on. Every time I sing this song I always make up a new outro depending on the state I’m in. We’re now near the end of the song, and they turn the music down slightly so we can hear the fans better

“How quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz” I smirk slightly before turning to where I see Travis staring at me smirking “raise your hand if you’re a little tipsy, sex with me is like joining the swim team, Travis is my favorite Kansas City” I blush profusely from him breaking out into laughter and seeing the blush rise on his face. The crowd screams even louder now knowing he’s there.

I see the crowd now facing up where the Kelce family is and taking pictures and videos. I laugh loudly into the mic before transitioning into the next song.

I can feel his eyes on me the entire show and for some reason my confidence was skyrocketing tonight and I didn’t hide that I was looking back at him with the best sultry look I could muster up. The show is now ending and the stage goes black before soft pink hues go through the stadium and the back screen lighting up with my new album announcement.

I hear the crowd scream even louder before saying my goodbyes and running off stage.

I reach the back where Stacy and Brittany are and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my adrenaline "you were absolutely amazing, oh my god you killed it" Brittany says running up and pulling me into a hug. I hug her back before I'm pulled into another hug by Stacy "You did so good girl!" I thank them both before we're interrupted by security.

"Miss y/n? there is a Kylie Kelce here wanting to see you, she says she's your friend?" I smile brightly at the security guard Jared "oh yes please bring her and the family back please." Jared gives me a brief nod before walking away to allow them in.

"you know that means Travis is gonna come back too right?" I can hear the smirk on Brit's face, I give her a look "yes I know, but for some reason tonight I am feeling good and confident, that has not happened in a long time especially towards a man." I reply with a teasing smile.

We’re interrupted by the door opening and Kylie slightly jogging to me with both girls with her.

When she gets close by we pull each other into a hug with the two girls trying to hug my waist. I let her go then bending down to pull both girls into a hug “hello my pretty mama’s ” I kiss both of their heads before letting go and standing straight to also greet Jason “you were absolutely amazing mama” Jason tells me pulling me into a deep hug, he is literally a bear. He lets me go, walking around to sit with kylie and the kids.

I’m then faced with a smirking Travis “I liked the shout-out” he tells me, I smile bright but with a giant blush rushing through my face “I thought you would” I smirk back at him.

He looks over at the others before moving slightly into more of my space, me having to look up pretty far to see his face “if you want I can show you how much of your favorite I can be” he almost whispers to me with him leaning slightly down with a giant smirk. If I thought I was blushing a lot before it is even worse now. I try to calm myself before replying “I bet you could” I try to whisper back, looking up at him smirking.

“So tomorrow night at 6:30?” he asks smiling “pick you up?”

I look back slightly at Brittany, her giving me a giant teasing smile and a thumbs up, I turn back

“Definitely” I smile bright.

Like my writing? buy me a coffee! I would be so grateful!

#travis kelce #travis x reader

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rainbow-femme · 8 months

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Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

#long post #I’ve been called out for being long winded so here is your warning #beauty and the beast #disney

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mxnhoo · 3 months

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when i first saw you. (k. sn) - ch1

synopsis : a handsome man you saw at the cafe you worked at simply became more than a stranger to you. genre : romance, angst??? (idk LOL), sunoo is the same age as the reader, sunoo is extremely sweet pairing : kim sunoo x reader (ft seungmin and jeongin from skz) w/c : 3.3k a/n : i wrote this for a customer who i served once and he made my heart explode in the 2-3 minutes i was interacted w him. spoiler alert, i never saw him again, LOL. my love life seems pretty tragic. ALSOOO this entire week i'm busy, and the week after my school is resuming so i'll have lesser free time :( i'll be less active, but i'll try to write when i can! originally i wanted to release this all in 1 part but i dont really have time to finish it and i wanted to feed ya'll with some content for now! hope ya'll enjoy this~

chapter 2 (in the making)

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You groaned looking at your updated work schedule on your phone screen. Once again, you were being forced to work longer hours than what you requested for in your part-time job.

"They even said I'd only be working 5 hours for the entire week, are you fucking serious?" Your eyebrows were furrowed, and you groaned, leaning your head back to rest your head against the headboard of your bed.

You were a university student that was working a part-time job to earn some extra cash, and your school schedule typically wasn't hectic, so you usually you'd be able to work a lot every week.

However, it just so happened that the few weeks you requested to work only a bit, the higher-ups just had to ignore your request and give you your usual working hours. Why do you want to work lesser these few weeks? It's because it was period of time where projects are starting to be announced, exams were coming up, and you desperately needed just a few weeks to just mentally prepare and finish up last-minute things.

But oh well. You lose your time, but earn more money. A win is a win. All you needed to figure out now was how to manage your time well since you had juggle your school, physical and work life.

Entering the cafe you worked at, you greeted your colleagues and flashed at the smile at the customers that came by often. Walking into the staff room, you placed your belongings on one of the tables at the corner. You tied up your hair into a low ponytail, and placed a cap over your head, wearing an apron afterwards. You quickly checked your phone to do a time check.

5:56p.m.

Your shift ends at 11, and you have about 5 hours and 4 minutes to go. You became irritated remembering the fact that if the higher-ups had respected your request, you could've been at home by 8, but what can you do? You let out a quick sigh before keeping your phone in your bag and punching your card.

You worked as a barista at the cafe near your school, and the experience wasn't really that bad — you could even say that it was quite a fun job, but sometimes the timings they made you work and the last-minute requests from your colleagues to cover them up pissed you off. Especially today, since you had just gotten 2 new projects and 1 assignment.

Seriously man, your cafe should seriously get more employees. The way they were relying on you was crazy.

You stepped out into the working station, and realised that the cafe was pretty packed. It was quite normal since it was peak hour, and you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the customers you would have to deal with in a while.

"Hi! Could I get your order?"

"Hello! What would you like to order?"

"Anything else for you, sir?"

"Thank you, see you again!"

"I'll bring this right at your table! You can go sit down!"

"What seems to be the problem here?"

"Could I get your name for your drink?"

It was task, after task, after task, and you would be lying if you said you weren't exhausted. You were completely overstimulated, and you felt that if something small were to go wrong you'd literally explode. Sweat ran down your forehead as your eyes struggled to stay open.

Time check : 9:58p.m. 2 minutes to closing.

You were extremely relieved that the entire cafe was empty, and that it was just you and your colleagues. You leaned against the counter as you closed your eyes, finally having a chance to rest after a hectic day of work. Your 2 colleagues were in the staff room, chilling before it was time to do closing.

You were feeling relaxed, until you heard the chimes of the bell ring, indicating the door was opening. You instantly felt ticked off, pissed off at the fact that someone was coming in JUST 2 minutes before closing.

"Fucking hell." you mumbled to yourself before releasing a deep breath and walking towards the counter, head hanging low from exhaustion.

"Hello! Could I get a chocolate milkshake?" a deep voice spoe out.

Are you fucking serious? You came in this late just for a chocolate milkshake?

"Okay! Sure! Anything else?!" you quickly shot your head up looking at the figure in front of you, eyebrows slightly furrowed and your tone sounding annoyed.

Next thing you know, your eyebrows were raised, and your heart practically skipped a beat. The figure standing in front of you was a male. Not just any male, an extremely attractive one.

He was tall, his shoulders were broad, his eyebrows were straight, his nose bridge was high, his eyes were extremely pretty, his lips were soft and glossy, his clear glasses that framed his face so perfectly, his fringe perfectly falling onto his forehead, and his ear piercings making him seem more attractive. The cherry on top was how well he dressed and how good he smelled — he smelled like vanilla.

Fuck. Out of all people, I just had to lash out at this... flawless man.

You thought his smile would drop from the way you replied to him, but his smile remained plastered onto your face, making your heart beat even faster. Fuck? He was so attractive?

"Nope, that's all!" he said cheerfully.

Oh. My. God.

You were discovering something new about yourself, and it was the fact that you liked happy and soft boys. Typically, all the boys you went for had a gangster vibe, but none of them had you flustered at the first meeting like this.

You gulped as you nodded, eyes breaking the eye contact as you nervously keyed his item into the cash register.

"T-that will be $6.40." you said, trying to put up a professional front, but the nervousness in your tone giving you away.

"I'll pay by cash!" he spoke out again, his voice making your heart skip a beat.

You nodded again, looking at him as he takes out his wallet. You glanced down at his hands, and boy oh boy were they pretty too. His fingers were long and slender, different to what you usually liked — short(er) and veiny. He took out the exact amount and offered it to you, maintaining his pretty smile.

You nervously smiled at him as you took the money from it, putting it into the cash register and a receipt came out.

"N-name?" you whispered nervously. "What?" "Y-your name? For the drink." "Oh! Sunoo, my name is Sunoo!"

You were writing down his name on the receipt, but you spelled it as 'Sunoh' and your handwriting was all ugly too. Sunoo took notice to it.

"Ah! No that's not how you spell it."

Without any warning, he leaned closer to you, holding and guiding your hand that was holding the pen to write his name correctly. Fuck, the handwriting was still terrible but at this point you didn't care. Did he just technically hold your hand?

At this point, blood was rushing to your face and you were blinking at him, completely flustered and confused. After you two finished writing his name, he leaned back, smiling at you again. You blinked at him a few more times before you stood up properly and nodded, walking away to make his drink (and almost tripping a few times).

The entire time you were making his drink, you could feel his gaze on you and it was causing you to make a few spillages here and there. Your colleagues opened the staff room door, causing you to jump and spill even more.

"Oh, we still have customers?" your colleague, Jeongin, spoke out. Jeongin was one year younger than you, but you both bonded well and hung out sometimes outside your part time job regardless.

If you were still angry, you would've just lashed out at Jeongin for scaring you since you and him were pretty close, but the way you were so flustered, you just quietly nodded at him, continuing to make the chocolate milkshake the pretty boy wanted.

"Oh hey! It's Sunoo!" your other colleague, Seungmin, spoke out. Seungmin was the same age as you, and you both shared a few classes. You watched as Seungmin walked out of the working station to dap Sunoo up.

"You know him?" Jeongin questioned. "Yeah! Him and I are in the same classes and hang out!" Seungmin replied, then turned back to Sunoo "First time visiting?" "Mmm'yeah!" Sunoo replied, his voice making your heart beat faster.

Not wanting to eavesdrop further, you continue to make Sunoo's drink, feeling less tense since Sunoo had something else to focus on instead of you.

The boys continue to have their conversation, and after a while, you finally finished making Sunoo's drink. You sprayed the whipping cream and placed the dome lid, placing a straw inside and turning your back to serve Sunoo his drink.

"Your drink." you said coldly, not trying to make your feelings obvious. "Thank you!" he flashed you another smile before taking the drink into his hand.

He was about to walk out until Seungmin called out to him. "Hey, leaving so soon? Wait until we close~"

You watched as he turned back, his hair slightly moving. You thought you were hallucinating, but his gaze shifted to you for a few seconds, then back to Seungmin.

"Nah, I have to get started on the project."

The project? Was he in the same class as Seungmin? Wouldn't that mean Sunoo would be in the same class as you as well? If he was in the same class, why have you never noticed him at all? He definitely would've stood out to you?

Seungmin's voice broke your train of thought. "Boriiiing.. anyways, i'll see you in class", he quickly turned to you "and Y/N too, since she's in our class!"

Sunoo turned back to you, nodding and grinning at you. Your heart wanted to jump out of your chest.

"I'll see you both then!" Sunoo announced, before leaving, the door bell chimes ringing once again as the door opened and closed.

Your eyes blinked as you processed what had just happened. You had just met a flawless man, who had apparently been in your class for the semester and you had absolutely no clue at all.

Jeongin started clapping, "Chop chop, time to get back to work and get the fuck outta here."

You slowly nodded, still in a daze as you slowly moved. The 3 of you started cleaning up and doing your usual tasks for closing.

You couldn't sleep. At all. Your dark eyebags were painfully obvious that even someone could notice from a distance. You were sitting in class, waiting for the lecture to start and you were about to fall asleep, until someone spoke right beside you.

"Gyar!" a loud voice instantly woke you up, frightening you and you quickly sit up, eyes widened as you look at the person who did it.

Kim Seungmin.

"God Seungmin! You didn't have to scare me like that!" your heart was beating fast from the adrenaline, and you playfully smacked Seungmin on the shoulder. Behind Seungmin you could see a familiar figure sitting down. It was the person who kept you all night, oh my lord.

Sunoo looked at you and smiled, "Hey, don't scare her like that!" he said, playfully scolding Seungmin.

Seungmin stuck his tongue out to Sunoo playfully before looking back at you.

"Why are you here..?" you asked, puzzled at the fact both Seungmin and Sunoo were sitting beside you.

"We have the same classes.. duh.." "I know! But like.. why here?" you were referring to the fact that they were sitting beside you. "Ohhhh. I mean in class I usually sit with Sunoo, but since you two know each other now, I just thought that the 3 of us could sit together now?" Seungmin said, an innocent smile on his face.

'two know each other', '3 of us sit together'. No freaking way, you were going to be hanging out with Sunoo now. You blinked your eyes at him before you slowly nodded.

"Y/N" a soft voice spoke out, and it belonged to Sunoo. You instantly shot your head up to look at the pretty boy.

"Are you okay? Did you not get enough sleep?" his voice so comforting and soothing, if you could you would've slept to it.

"N-nah I'm good. I slept properly" — you didn't. "She always looks like that though" Seungmin teased, giggling at you as you glared at him and playfully smacked him again. Sunoo laughed at the two of you, and before you knew it, the professor came in indicating that class was starting. You opened your laptop, ready to take down notes.

Halfway into the class, Seungmin, who was in between you and Sunoo, was already dead asleep. Boy was softly snoring as he rested his head on the table. Gosh, so much for the boy who was just making fun of you earlier.

You heard sounds of the chair dragging near you, and you didn't question it, attentively listening during class. Suddenly, from the side of your view, you saw the chair beside you being dragged, and Sunoo sitting down beside you. Your eyebrows raised as you watched Sunoo sit himself beside you. He looked at you and whispered "I didn't understand this part, could you explain to me?" as he pointed to something on your laptop screen. You gulped as you nodded, starting to explain the concept to him.

The entire time you were explaining the concept to him, he maintained eye contact and constantly nodded, letting you know that he was listening attentively. He was tilting his neck the entire time and the way he looked was so attractive, it was impressive that you managed to even explain it to him properly.

"Thanks Y/N! You're pretty smart" he complimented, giving you a smile that never failed to make you go insane.

You smiled back at him, and was about to focus back to the lecture, until he spoke again.

"Are you working again today?" "Ah.. Um, yeah I am. Why?" "Ooh okay! I'll drop by later, then!"

Considering how tired you were, you were dreading work. But the fact that Sunoo said that he'd come by made you feel excited for work. You smiled, "okay, I'll see you then".

After this class, it was lunch, then 1 more class and you would be off to work. Seungmin suggested that the 3 of you would eat together, and so the 3 of you were off to one of the nearby food courts.

"What are you buying, Y/N?" Sunoo questioned, looking at you. "I think I'll just buy some banana bread, I'm not that hungry right now." "Are you sure? You might get hungry later" his voice sounding concerned.

You hummed in response, nodding your head. The way he was looking after you, it made your chest feel fuzzy. If he wouldn't mind you would've kissed him by now.

When the 3 of you sat down, you ate the banana bread that you bought from a nearby convenience store and Seungmin and Sunoo were both eating proper meals. Sunoo would occassionally share his food with you and even feed you. His body language was giving you so much hope, but you didn't want to rush it considering you only met the boy yesterday.

After this, you went to class alone since both of them had different classes. As soon as class ended, you rushed to work, feeling excited at the fact that you were gunna see Sunoo later.

Should I prepare his chocolate milkshake in advance? What if he orders something different? What if I prepare it too early and all the ice melts?

You entered your workplace, being cheerful as you greeted everyone and your colleagues. Today, you were working with Jeongin and someone else you weren't particularly close with. You punched your card 5 minutes early and started working, shooting your head up to the door everytime the door bell chimes rang, looking out for Sunoo.

Sounds of the bell chimed, and you looked up, finally seeing the figure you had been so eager to see, but he was beside someone. Another girl. Your smile instantly dropped, and you instantly looked away, trying to find different tasks to do to keep yourself occupied so your other colleagues would serve him in your place.

As you were cleaning the working station, a voice called out to you.

"Y/N!" you recognised this voice, and it was Sunoo's one.

You slowly brought your head up, instantly making eye contact as he gave you his usual smile. The girl beside him also looking at you and smiling.

"Ah, hey." your tone sounding cold as you slowly waved to him. "Could we order?" he questioned, still smiling.

You wanted to push your other colleagues to do this, but you realised that they were both occupied. You sighed as you went to the counter to serve him.

"Chocolate milkshake?" You stated, raising one eyebrow. "Yup, make it two!" he replied.

Who even likes chocolate milkshakes?

You rolled your eyes, annoyed at the response. You were clearly jealous and was trying to push him away.

You nodded, keying in their order into the cash register.

"$12.80." "Okay!" He handed out cash to you in exact.

You nodded at him as you took the money and put it in the cash register, giving him the receipt before moving away to make his order. Fuck, you were feeling bitter as hell.

After a while, you were done making the drinks, and called out his name so he could pick up his drinks. Initially, him and the girl were seated at one corner of the cafe, and when he heard you call him, he quickly got up and walked towards the pick-up station while carrying a small plastic bag.

"Thanks!" he glanced at you, before he slowly slid the plastic bag to you on the counter. "And here's some extra food in case you got hungry.. since you didn't eat much earlier"

You looked at him in surprise at his thoughtfulness. For a quick second, your heart was filled with warmth until your eyes quickly travelled to the girl he came in with, sitting down.

"You didn't.. have to. It's okay." you slid the plastic bag back to him, but he quickly slid it back to you. "Nope, I bought it specifically for you. Please have it." he quickly took the chocolate milkshakes that he ordered and made his way back to his seat before you could rebut. You watched him as he sat down and you sighed, taking the plastic bag in defeat.

You looked inside the plastic bag, and it contained all sorts of breads from the convenience store. Banana, chocolate, vanilla, blueberry bread. Why did he have to be so thoughtful?

Your heart felt warm, but you tried to brush those feelings away.

That girl was definitely his girlfriend right? I should stop talking to him before my feelings for him become even more serious.

You exhaled, as you continued your work, occasionally glancing at Sunoo and the girl. Your happy mood from the start of work quickly crashed down, and you dreaded work even more, anticipating the end of today's shift.

Work was even more hectic today, and once it was the end of your shift, you were thanking the Gods above. Unfortunately, Sunoo was still there, and apparently, he was alone?

When did that girl leave..? I didn't even notice.

As you were about to step out, you heard footsteps approaching you and someone grabbed your wrist.

"Could I take you home? It's late and all.. " You weren't surprised that it was Sunoo, but his request caught you off-guard. "No, I'm okay. Thanks." "Please?"

You turned to face him properly, and his eyes were pleading you to accept his request. You were so confused. Why did he want to walk you home? Did he wait for you? Where did the other girl go?

After thinking for a while, you finally responded. "Fine."

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supernaturalscribe67 · 1 year

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Favors

Words: 6,851

Pov: 3rd Person

Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader

Warning(s): Language, SMUT (18+), Rimming, Teasing, Male on Male penetration, brief orgasm denial, Bottom!Reader, Top!Crowley

Summary: (Y/N) is a well-known researcher and hacker in the hunting industry, dedicating his life to protecting innocent people all around the United States. What happens when the King of Hell comes to him with a problem he needs help solving and a deal that (Y/N) cannot turn down?

Request:

Hope you are having a good day/night

Omg I absolutely love the Crowley x older Winchester brother reader fic you did for me

I was wondering if I could request Crowley x Male reader smut

@xweirdo101x

A/N: I haven't written smut in so long, I hope you like it! Plus, this is my first time writing male/male smut, so feedback is really appreciated! MINORS DNI!!!!! Much Love!

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It was beautiful that morning. Light barely shone over the treeline, the warm colors faintly casting a reflection across the lake that sat outside of the small house. The ground was littered with red, orange, and yellow leaves, decorating it like some cheesy floor pattern on a Welcome Mat. The wind whipped through the branches, conducting the trees in a synchronized dance. Morning Doves sang their harmonious tune.

It was 8:30 AM. (Y/N) sat peacefully in the rocking chair that was nestled in the corner of the aged porch. A blanket draped over his lap, and a warm cup of steaming coffee in his grasp. It was mornings like that that gave him a sense of serenity, that reminded him of the world outside of his profession. That was why, in the mornings, he had one rule. One simple rule;

No phone calls before nine.

Granted, lives were at stake. Hunters all across the United States were taking on various jobs as he sat there, and some needed information quicker than others. He made an exception to the rule in case of an emergency, but nothing more. Most of his life was consumed with research and phone calls while he sat in a stuffy room near the back of the house. He knew that, when his reputation in the hunting community became well-known, he would need to set some rules and boundaries to allow himself some personal time. Some time to relax and reflect.

Not everyone followed those rules, however.

A buzz from his phone sounded next to him. It sat on a small, rusted round table next to the rocking chair. (Y/N)’s gaze turned towards the phone as it shifted with each violent vibration across the metal. He could feel the vibrating under his feet against the wood. Across the screen, Sam Winchester was written. A heavy, yet somehow content, sigh escaped past his lips as he reached over and picked up his phone. A part of him said that he should ignore it, but the other was telling him that it could be urgent. The Winchesters rarely got in contact with him before noon.

“Hello?” He answered, his voice deep and calm.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Dean and I were wondering if you could look something up for us?” Sam’s voice rang through the receiver, a little too cheery first thing in the morning, in (Y/N)’s opinion. They must have been up for hours by then.

“Is the information urgent?”

There was a long pause. “Well…”

“Mr. Winchester, what is my rule?”

Another long pause. “No phone calls before nine.”

“Exactly, unless there was someone actively dying and we were under a time constraint. Are we on a time constraint, Mr. Winchester?”

“Please, call me Sam.”

“Are we on a time constraint, Sam?”

Pause. “No. We just wanted to get whatever information we could before we headed to the police station to talk to the officers.”

“You and I both know you’re going to gather even more evidence about the case after the fact, so I think it would be wise to just go ahead and make your way to the police station. They might answer some of your questions, they might not. Hell, you might have even more questions for me by the time you’re done.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Uh…I guess I’ll…give you a call back when we’re done.”

“After nine, of course.” (Y/N) nodded slowly.

“Right. After nine,”

“Thank you, Sam. You know, I always love talking to you. You’re easier to communicate with than your brother.”

Sam chuckled deeply. “Thanks, I get that a lot,”

“Well, it’s true. Anyway, go talk to the police, and then let me know of anything you might need, alright?”

“Alright, bye,”

“Bye,” (Y/N) ended the phone call and replaced the phone in its original position.

He brought the cup of coffee up to his face, blowing cool air onto the surface. Steam curled around the mug as he took a sip. There were some people he didn’t mind receiving phone calls from in the morning, during his off hours. Sam Winchester was one of them. Always so polite when he had to remind him, he almost didn’t mind having to repeat himself over and over again. He knew how stressful the physical aspect of the hunting life could be, but Sam was one who never let his anger appear evident when they conversed that early in the morning. His brother, on the other hand, seemed to hold all of the anger for both brothers on his sleeve. (Y/N) had many unpleasant conversations with the older Winchester, but he also had some satisfying ones. In the end, he didn’t mind working with the Winchesters. They were the ones that called him the most. They were the ones who kept him busy and were appreciative when he was able to give them the information that they were in search of. That much he was grateful for.

“Hello, darling,” a scratchy, baritone voice broke the placid silence.

(Y/N) showed no physical reaction, yet he felt as if his heart had lept into his throat. It raced rapidly and he felt the familiar sensation of gooseflesh appear on his arms. He couldn’t necessarily blame it on the cool breeze. In front of him, Crowley stood, hands deep in the pockets of his black peacoat. A smirk was placed on his lips, covered by the beard that had grown out since the last time (Y/N) saw him.

He had met Crowley some years ago through the Winchesters. It was then he had gotten his first taste of the types of connections Sam and Dean had. When they originally told him about one of their contacts being the King of Hell, he was rather skeptical at first. Rumors travel fast in the hunting world, and (Y/N) knew all of them, especially the ones that star Sam and Dean Winchester. Yet, when he had initially met Crowley, he was pleasantly surprised. He never expected an individual with a clean, lavish appearance as he. He never expected the accent either. It had shocked him at first, but not negatively. In a way, he had always assumed that the King of Hell was going to be some grotesque monster that would seem as if they dwelled deep in a humid cave. He could blame that on his ignorance.

Since then, the handful of times he had interactions with the King of Hell, he would not say they had been horrible. Quite the opposite, they had been fairly pleasant. Crowley was cordial towards him, speaking to him in, what (Y/N) had first assumed was, a respectful tone, but later concluded that it would be more accurate to call it professional. Crowley was charismatic, a businessman. He knew how to get what he wanted out of people, and (Y/N) could see why they fell for it each time. Crowley knew exactly what to say and when to say it. That accent of his could put anyone in a trance.

(Y/N) sat the cup of coffee down on the side table beside his phone before he placed both of his hands in his lap, his fingers folded over one another. “Good morning, Crowley. How…unexpected of you to pop in this early in the morning.”

“Quite,” Crowley paused as he looked around, studying his environment. “I must say, I never expected a man such as yourself to own a place with such beauty.”

(Y/N) slowly nodded. “While I appreciate the backhanded compliment, I am currently off the clock. That is if you needed anything in the first place and didn’t just stop by for some idle chit-chat.”

“I never ‘chit-chat’. I did come by to ask for your…assistance with something.”

“As I have said, I am off the clock. If you need my help with anything, you can come back at nine o’clock.”

A smirk appeared in the corner of Crowley’s mouth. “Check the time, darling,”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted over to his phone. Hesitantly, he reached over and clicked the screen, illuminating his background of deep purples and blues.

9:01 A.M.

As he looked back over at Crowley, he noted that the smirk was still there. Crowley shrugged, the ruffle of fabric filling the silence.

“It’s time to clock back in.”

(Y/N let out a sigh as he slapped his hands onto his knees, standing from his seat. He caught the blanket before it was able to fall off and folded it thrice. He then turned and laid it over the back of the rocker. He placed his phone into his pocket, then grabbed his coffee mug, the steam having dissipated since Crowley had arrived.

“Let’s head to my study, then,” he mumbled.

He walked past Crowley towards the screen porch door. Before he had the chance to grab it, Crowley opened it for him, startling (Y/N) for a moment. (Y/N) nodded his head.

“Such a gentleman.” He murmured and walked into the house, Crowley following soon after.

The foyer was small but tidy, so it seemed bigger than it was. The new floors glimmered in the morning light, and the walls were decorated with various pieces of artwork. (Y/N) took pride in renovating the older house, making it a place he was happy to call his home.

When he had found the house for sale, he was surprised, initially, by how little it cost. Seeing the state upon purchase made him understand the drop in price almost immediately. It took several months for him to turn the once run-down house into a livable place, one where he wasn’t afraid of catching asbestos poisoning every night. Since he completed the remodeling, he has made sure that the house is well-decorated, comfortable, and clean.

To the right of the foyer was the entryway into the kitchen. It wasn’t that large, but with one person occupying the house, he found it unnecessary to include more counter space in the renovation. To the left was the living room, well-lit with natural light in the morning and even brighter with the overhead ceiling fan at night, comfortable enough to seat many different people if he ever decided to have guests over to mingle. Ahead of Crowley and (Y/N), down the hallway, sat three doors, all of them ajar. Directly ahead was his bedroom, to the left was the guest bathroom, and to the right was his study, the one place where (Y/N) found he was spending most of his time throughout the twenty-four hours of the day.

(Y/N) kicked off his slides, placing them next to the front door, before replacing them with a pair of slippers. He then gestured down the hallway with his head.

“This way,” he said as he began to walk down the hallway.

The study was a masterpiece in it of itself. The walls directly beside the door and adjacent were lined with built-in bookshelves, courtesy of (Y/N) himself. On the shelves sat various centuries' worth of lore, categorized by decade, topic, and alphabetized by the last name of the author, if the author was known, that is. On the other wall sat large windows lined side-by-side, the curtains pulled back to allow sunlight in. Sitting at an angle in the middle of the floor was a heavy mahogany desk, similar to one that would be found in a lawyer’s or politician’s office. A rolling desk chair sat behind it, something cheap yet comfortable. On top of the desk were different books that were opened to certain pages that (Y/N) had left off on, a notebook with a ballpoint pen, an LED keyboard with a matching Bluetooth mouse, and a large, curved monitor with two smaller monitors on either side. Two chairs sat in front of the desk, a place where hunters had sat multiple times when visiting and discussing business with him.

(Y/N) rounded the corner of the desk and sat down in the office chair, the cup still grasped between his hands. He took another sip of his coffee as he scanned over the cluttered surface of his desk. As he moved books out of the way, his tongue poked into his cheek. Finally, with a triumphant ‘ah’, he pulled the brown coaster from underneath one of the book spines. He placed his mug on top of it, bent down, and turned on his computer.

“Alright, if you want to have a seat,” (Y/N) gestured to the chair.

“I prefer to stand.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged and typed his passcode rapidly into his keyboard.

The three monitors lit up with work he had been focused on the day before. Carefully, he saved documents and exited out of files. When the files were all tucked away and his screens were cleared, he turned his attention back to Crowley.

“Now, what is this problem you’re having? And, please be quick about it, I have some hunters that are going to be calling me back to gather information for them as well.”

“The Winchesters can wait,” Crowley said as he stalked forward.

(Y/N) fought back the urge to ask how Crowley had known the Winchesters were the ones to call, for he knew the answer already.

“Now, I seem to be having a bit of a rogue demon problem.” Crowley began to pace around the room, his eyes seeming to study the different texts that lined the walls and the scenery outside.

“Don’t we all?”

“Mine’s a little different.”

“How so?”

“You see, I control the demons, right? Specifically, I control the deals that come in when humans summon us to the crossroads. I expect demons to persuade these people in some way to get these deals by possessing family members, friends, and the like, while others are sent when they are summoned to take these deals. It’s a rather layered process, too many demons, too many steps, but it works.”

“I see,” (Y/N) hummed as he folded his hands on top of the desk, back slouched.

“Recently, however, it has come to my attention that there have been several demons who don’t necessarily, well, like me.”

“I can’t imagine why,” (Y/N) mumbled, his words dripping with sarcasm.

Crowley ignored him. “And I’ve found out by a rather reliable source that a handful of demons have been rebelling against me. Some are just not persuading people as they are supposed to and running rampant in the street while others, the ones who are summoned, are taking these individuals' souls without giving anything in return. They mess with the deal.”

“Do you not see that as a win in your situation? You get their soul no matter what, Crowley.”

“Ah, you see, I do, but I am a man of my word.” He stopped and placed his hand on his chest. “When deals are made, they are not meant to be broken. They are taking their souls and sending them right back to the pathetic life that they came to fix. I don’t like humans as much as the next demon, but a deal is a deal, and it should not be messed with.”

“How…noble? What does this exactly have to do with me?”

Crowley reached into his peacoat, pulling out a sheet of folded white paper. He walked over and placed it on (Y/N)’s desk. On it was a list of locations and dates neatly written in calligraphy. Most of the locations were paired with a date from a couple of days ago, some a couple of weeks, and some were marked from that very day.

“This is a list of all known demon locations and times that they were last seen there. The crossroads demons I can deal with on my own, they will be harder for someone like you to find, but these are the demons that were supposed to be possessing family members and the such. They’re lower-ranked demons than others, so they lack the necessary powers to teleport, makes them easier to find.”

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” He gestured to the paper with his hands.

“Find the demons on that computer of yours, tell me where they are, and I will take care of the rest.”

(Y/N) slowly nodded. There had been many instances where he had been able to find the location of a monster for different hunters by hacking into various CCTV cameras across the country. Some places had more cybersecurity than others, but overall, it was a simple task, something he had picked up the first month or so after he started learning the art of hacking and coding. It wouldn’t take that long for him to track some of the demons.

“Why should I help you?”

“Think of it this way, darling,” Crowley walked over, stood behind the desk chair, and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder.

The violent buzzing interrupted anything Crowley was going to say. (Y/N)’s legs vibrated in time with the buzzes. He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. Sam Winchester flashed across the screen. He held up a finger to Crowley.

“Hold on, I have to take this,” he said.

Just before he was able to accept the call, however, Crowley snatched the phone from his hand.

“Hey!”

“Ah ah ah,” Crowley tsked and wagged a finger. “We are in the middle of a deal.” He ended the call and placed the phone in his pocket.

(Y/N) clenched his jaw. He held out his hand. “Give it back, Crowley.”

“Not until we finished our deal, darling,”

“I never said we had a deal.”

“Then it appears you’re not going to be getting your phone back.”

“Crowley,” he growled.

Crowley chuckled deeply, his chest rumbling. “So tense,” he smirked. “It must be hard. Being out here all by yourself. No ring on your finger, which means that you haven’t got a wife or husband. I’m guessing you don’t have a partner either, considering all you do is sit here and help other hunters.” Crowley slowly ran a finger over (Y/N)’s shoulder blades, eliciting a shiver from him. “How about this deal, then,” Crowley leaned down, his face merely inches from (Y/N)’s. “I get rid of some of your tension and you find the demons for me, deal?”

Crowley’s breath was hot against (Y/N)’s face. The closeness caused his stomach to churn. (Y/N) wouldn’t deny that Crowley was an attractive man - demon, he corrected himself. He had thought so since the first time they met, yet he knew the dangers of getting involved with demons. That was why a small part of him was weary of the Winchesters, seeing how easily they got along with the King of Hell. ‘Got Along’ wasn’t necessarily as accurate as ‘tolerated’. He corrected himself again. When Crowley spoke with that accent, and when his voice was deep and gravelly, it was almost as if (Y/N) was hypnotized.

That accent of his could put anyone in a trance.

“Crowley,” he breathed, unaware that his heart had begun to beat faster.

“The demons get killed, I get what I want, and I leave you more satisfied than you have ever been before,” Crowley’s hand slowly moved up and began to trace along (Y/N)’s jawline. His fingers stopped when he got to (Y/N)’s chin. He tilted his head up so that they were looking into each other’s eyes, their noses brushing against one another. “Have we got a deal?”

Crowley’s eyes were just as hypnotic as his voice. It was as if (Y/N) was staring into an iced glass of whiskey. It was hard to believe that, behind those eyes, stood a dark entity who controlled the deepest, darkest depths of Hell. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him, telling him that it was a bad idea, that he should retreat and reject the offer.

(Y/N) was completely mesmerized.

“Yes,” he whispered faintly.

The corner of Crowley’s lips curled upward. “Then let’s kiss on it.”

(Y/N) didn’t have a chance to respond before Crowley’s lips were on his.

It was heated, hungry, and (Y/N) was slightly ashamed to admit that it had taken his breath away. Ashamed to admit just how engrossed in Crowley’s charismatic attitude he had been. Swiftly, (Y/N) stood from his chair and he was pressed against the desk in an instant. Crowley’s hands worked their way underneath (Y/N)’s t-shirt. It wasn’t long before Crowley’s coat and (Y/N)’s shirt were on the floor. As Crowley reached behind him to grab at the backs of his thighs, (Y/N) pressed his hands firmly on his chest.

“Not here, not here,” he pulled back from his lips, panting from the lack of oxygen. “Let’s go to my room.”

Crowley smirked and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Lead the way, darling,” he pulled back.

(Y/N) was quick to pull himself away from the desk and turn to walk out of the room. His strides were long and silent, almost as if he was floating out of the room and towards his bedroom. Crowley followed behind him, moving just as fast if not a little bit faster. He tore off his tie and dropped it onto the floor as they entered the room. Their lips slammed into one another once more as they fell back onto the bed unceremoniously, their bodies bouncing.

(Y/N) was incredibly hard, he felt like a teenager on prom night. He tried to think back and remember the last time he had sex. Had it been two, maybe three weeks? Months. No. Two or three years, it had been. He had lost count. Crowley had been right, he had been so absorbed in his work that he had neglected the wants he never knew he had. The needs. He had found himself to be so uptight as of late that the lack of sex hadn’t been something he considered a factor with such a change of mood. Maybe the sex was just what he needed. It seemed that Crowley knew more about him than he realized.

(Y/N)’s primary goal was getting Crowley’s clothes off. He wanted to see him, wanted to take in every inch of him. Before he was able to grab at Crowley’s belt, however, Crowley pulled back and lifted a hand to stop him. Again, (Y/N) was breathless. He stopped and looked up at him with a questioning gaze.

“Let’s skip the stripping, shall we?” His voice had gotten deeper, darker. His voice alone should have sent the sirens blaring and the red flags waving in (Y/N)’s head, telling him to stop, telling him that it was a bad idea, but all it did was deepen the lust and make his cock twitch in his boxers.

With the snap of his fingers, their clothes had vanished. Immediately, (Y/N) noticed the temperature change, causing his nipples to harden into stiff peaks. He wasn’t worried about his own body, however. His attention was all on Crowley.

He took his time to examine his lover. His eyes trailed. He noted the hair that was meticulously placed over his pecs, the curve of his stomach. Crowley didn’t have a six-pack, but he was nowhere near fat. A slight pudge was probably the best adjective to use. He spotted the tattoos almost instantly, something that came as a surprise to him but wasn’t unappreciated. Crowley’s happy trail started right below his belly button and trailed down to his pelvis, and the mere sight of Crowley’s cock made (Y/N)’s eyes go wide.

Crowley was huge.

Bigger than he had ever seen on a lover before.

To say he was surprised was a massive understatement. He never expected Crowley to be sporting a cock of that size. (Y/N) felt inept next to him. Yet, despite his unbelievable length, (Y/N) felt his mouth water and cock twitch at the thought of it being inside of him. Crowley chuckled.

“Like what you see?” He questioned.

“Yes,” (Y/N) breathed, although he knew the question was rhetorical.

Crowley’s chest rumbled as he leaned down and began to leave kisses down (Y/N)’s neck, down towards the valley of his pecs. He stopped at his nipples, giving each of them attention with small licks and a suckle. A gasp fell from (Y/N)’s lips as his hands occupied themselves with exploring Crowley’s body. (Y/N)’s mind was fogged over, the feeling of being that close to someone already so intense. He really did feel like a teenager.

“You’re so beautiful, love,” Crowley purred as his lips traveled further down his body, ghosting over his stomach. “Almost disappoints me that I’m going to leave you a whimpering mess by the time I’m done.”

“Crowley, please,”

“Begging already, I see.”

Crowley’s lips moved down until they reached (Y/N)’s own happy trail. Just before he reached (Y/N)’s cock, he pulled back, earning a disappointed groan from the man below. The smirk on his face told (Y/N) that Crowley loved the effect that he was having on him. That it was boosting his ego, and if he had been in the right state of mind, he would have stopped right there. The King of Hell didn’t need more of a complex than he already had.

“Spread your legs for me.”

(Y/N) complied, legs parting as Crowley moved onto his stomach. He left kisses on (Y/N)’s inner thighs.

“Have you had anything in this pretty little hole recently?” Crowley asked.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he admitted.

“Then I guess I’ll have to open you up, won’t I? I don’t want to hurt you.”

It was an oddly sweet sentiment, coming from a demon. Something that a part of (Y/N) didn’t really expect. Yet the other part of him told him that it made sense with Crowley’s character. He was a businessman. He made deals and he kept them. He wanted him to feel good, and (Y/N) wouldn’t be satisfied with his part of the deal if he was in pain.

“I have lube in my nightstand,” (Y/N) spoke up. He could feel Crowley’s hot breath hovering over his exposed hole.

“I’ll get to it, darling,”

Crowley’s tongue lapped at his hole, and (Y/N) swore that he would come from that single lick. He couldn’t hold back the moan as Crowley’s tongue worked around the pink muscle, almost teasing it. The tip of his tongue slipped past the ring for a moment before retreating. Crowley’s arms wrapped around both of his thighs and seemed to pull him closer with godly strength. Then, when he was closer, Crowley’s wet tongue finally slipped past the tight muscle and wiggled its way into his hole.

A deep moan escaped past (Y/N)’s lips as one of his hands shot down and gripped Crowley’s hair. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, thankful for the pillow that was underneath him, thankful that he had decided to move to the bedroom instead of the study. He had concluded that the lack of sex didn’t make him feel like a teenager again, he was a teenager. Rather, it seemed he had a teenager’s lack of control. His cock was twitching, begging to be touched, begging for Crowley to wrap his hand around it and stroke. (Y/N) was too lost in pleasure to do it on his own, and it was just foreplay. Crowley was only preparing him for what was yet to come. If Crowley had him seeing stars already, he knew that Crowley’s prediction of him turning into a ‘whimpering mess’ would be accurate.

Crowley’s tongue was skilled. He reached places inside of him that (Y/N) didn’t even know existed. All too soon, he felt the familiar jerk of his balls, the tensing muscles begging for release. The knot in his stomach was forming.

“C-Crowley,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. I-”

Crowley hummed against him and pulled back as soon as the warning came to be. Visibly, (Y/N) relaxed, but his face expressed disappointment, much to Crowley’s amusement.

“Already close to release, and I haven’t even touched your cock yet,” Crowley teased, and the words caused (Y/N)’s cheeks to darken with blush. “Can’t have that. I want this to last. I want you to break.”

Crowley hovered over (Y/N) again, their noses inches apart. (Y/N) could feel Crowley’s cock brush against his, causing his cock to twitch violently. Again, Crowley chuckled. He turned his head and reached over to the nightstand, opening the small drawer. It wasn’t as cluttered as the top of (Y/N) desk, but he had to admit that it needed to be cleaned out. It didn’t take long to find the bottle of lube, though, barely used. When Crowley moved back, he kissed him. That kiss was softer, sweet, the complete opposite of the others they had shared.

He pulled away and sat up, leaning back on his heels as he uncapped the lube. He squirted a generous amount onto his right index and middle finger before he set the lube to the side, open and ready if he were to need more. He rubbed his fingers together to spread out the liquid before lowering his hand to (Y/N) wet, needy hole. His index finger began to circle it and he saw how (Y/N)’s cock twitched again. The smirk remained on his face.

“Are you ready?” He asked softly.

“Yes,” (Y/N) barely gave him time to finish the question. “Yes, Crowley, please,”

“I’ll never get over how sweet that word sounds.”

Crowley pushed one finger into him and the stars promptly returned. (Y/N)’s mouth hung open as if he were to say something, but nothing came to mind. Words didn’t exist anymore, only Crowley and his fingers. It didn’t take long for Crowley to begin to pump his finger into him, his dark eyes focused on (Y/N)’s face, intensely taking in every reaction he gave. Sweat began to glisten on (Y/N)’s brow, dripping down the side of his face and onto the sheet below. His hands were fisted at his sides, straining the bedding. When Crowley felt his hole loosen even the slightest, he added his middle finger.

After several seconds of having Crowley insert his second finger, the knot was back and forming inside (Y/N)’s stomach. It was tight and just kept getting tighter with each stroke. When Crowley’s fingers curled ever so slightly, (Y/N)’s body violently jerked and he had to hold onto the bed as he fought back the orgasm that was quickly approaching. He went to say something, but all that came out were moans and whimpers of pleasure. He didn’t trust himself to stop Crowley before his impending climax.

Of course, Crowley was observant himself and knew when to back away.

Crowley pulled his hand away from him, leaving his hole empty and his mind screaming for release. Crowley brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping them around his digits as he suckled the leftover lube and flavor off of them. He quirked a brow as he took his fingers out of his mouth.

“Strawberry flavored?” He questioned.

(Y/N)’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. His chest and face gleamed with sweat, ever more apparent because of the morning light that filtered past his blinds.

“It was all they had left.” He was able to mutter.

A deep chuckle rumbled within Crowley’s chest as he grabbed the lube from beside him once again. That time, he put some into the palm of his right hand and capped the bottle, setting it back onto the side table. He wrapped his hand around his cock and lathered it up with the lube. He hissed, jaw clenched at the cool temperature.

“You don’t mind raw, do you, darling?” He asked as he shifted in the bed so that he hovered directly above (Y/N) writhing body.

“No,” (Y/N) was quick to respond. “No, I don’t mind just, please, please Crowley.” His desperate cries would have normally made him embarrassed, ashamed of the mess he had turned into, but he couldn’t care less. His brain didn’t belong to him anymore. It belonged to Crowley. His body wasn’t his, it was Crowley’s. All of him belonged to Crowley.

And he was fine with that.

“I’ll go slow,” Crowley said. “Let me know if it’s too much for you to handle.”

It was too much to handle when Crowley was eating him out, but (Y/N) knew what he meant. He gave a quick nod of understanding. His hands immediately moved from the sheets to Crowley. One hand was placed on Crowley’s shoulder, while the other reached back, fingers entangled in the mess of brown hair.

One of Crowley’s hands was placed on the bed, holding himself up, while the other hand reached down and grabbed his cock. He guided it to (Y/N)’s hole and, when he felt comfortable with the positioning, he moved his hand and placed it on the other side of (Y/N)’s body. Slowly, he moved his hips forward, the head of his cock pushing past the ring of muscle with some resistance before he entered him.

(Y/N) wasn’t seeing stars anymore - he was seeing a whole galaxy. The slight painful strain mixed with bliss as Crowley pushed the head of his cock inside of him was almost too much to bear at first. He felt like his balls were going to explode with pleasure. His nails dug into Crowley’s shoulder and scalp as he continued to inch his way inside. Crowley studied (Y/N)’s face, the way his mouth hung open and eyes closed. When half of his cock was engulfed in his warmth, Crowley pulled back out a couple of inches before he thrust back inside. (Y/N) couldn’t stop the sounds from escaping his lips. Equally, as such, Crowley let out a deep, guttural groan.

“So tight, darling. So…fucking tight,” he growled out, sounding almost feral.

“M-More, Crowley, please, more,” (Y/N)’s voice had gone up in pitch and the need was laced throughout his tone.

Crowley didn’t need any more indication. His hips began to pick up in speed, slowly at first, but after a while of making sure that his lover wasn’t in any pain, he went faster. While (Y/N) wasn’t able to take all of Crowley’s length inside of him, what was able to fit resulted in a cacophony of moans that echoed throughout the room. The bed rocked, the frame squeaking underneath the pressure as Crowley rhythmically snapped his hips.

When (Y/N) had gotten used to the pleasure - ‘used to’ wasn’t the right phrasing, but rather adapted to it - he was able to open his eyes long enough to reach up, cup Crowley’s cheeks, and bring himself up to kiss him roughly. Crowley returned the kiss. Their tongues danced with each other. (Y/N) could taste a mixture of himself and the strawberry-flavored lube on Crowley’s tongue.

Each thrust brought a new wave of pleasure, Crowley’s cock brushing against his prostate. (Y/N)’s cock and balls jerked and he knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer. He pulled away, one of his hands falling to Crowley’s chest, which was equally as sweat-covered as his. It was difficult to find the strength to speak, at first, but he mustered up what little control of himself he had to do so.

“Crowley,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. Please, can I come?”

“Not yet,” Crowley sounded breathless. “I want to come with you.”

“Want you to come inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” He moaned loudly as Crowley’s cock stroked his prostate again.

Crowley growled as his lips dove down towards (Y/N)’s neck, littering it with small kisses, teeth scraping over his skin.

“I can’t wait to fill you up. Can’t wait to make you mine,” Crowley growled.

(Y/N) did everything in his power to hold back his orgasm, the one thing he had been trying to reach all this time. It became harder and harder the more they went on. Finally, he felt Crowley’s thrusts start to sputter, and Crowley’s grunts and moans were getting higher in pitch. Crowley reached between their bodies, his hand finding (Y/N)’s cock and he began to stroke it in time with his thrusts.

“Come.”

And that was all the permission he needed. (Y/N) came hard, cock spasming violently in Crowley’s hand and balls convulsing as he shot his load onto his and Crowley’s chests and stomachs. Planets, stars, galaxies, universes, it was almost as if (Y/N) was lost in time and space itself. If he didn’t know any better, he swore he would have passed out from the pleasure had it not been for Crowley keeping him grounded.

Following his orgasm, he felt Crowley still inside of him and, soon, felt the warm sensation of his load deep within his hole. They stayed there, interlocked with one another, their bodies completely frozen in time. What felt like ages later, Crowley slowly pulled out of him, a wet pop echoing throughout the room, before he collapsed beside him on the bed. (Y/N)’s arms fell beside him, his chest moving rapidly as he struggled to regain his composure.

As he lay there, post-orgasmic clarity set in.

He had fucked the King of Hell.

More importantly, he had fucked the King of Hell and liked it.

God, he was such a terrible hunter.

His eyes trailed over to Crowley, who was still recovering from his own orgasm. He could see faint, red scratch marks across his face, chest, and right shoulder. (Y/N) didn’t even realize his nails had dug into him until then. Crowley turned his head towards him.

“Well you weren’t the whimpering mess that I assumed you would be,” Crowley began. “But I’ll take begging any day.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but roll his eyes and he had found the strength to speak to be gone by that point. What was he even supposed to say to him? Thanks for the sex, I’ll go find your demons now? With one-night stands, he would always just get up, grab his clothes, and walk out of the motel room, but this was a little different. He was in his own home. Was he just supposed to kick Crowley out? That would seem a bit rude, wouldn’t it?

“Care for a cuddle?” Crowley’s words broke his train of thought.

“A what?” His voice had returned.

“A cuddle.”

(Y/N) snorted. “The King of Hell wants to cuddle.” He said it more like a statement rather than a question.

“I take care of my lovers, (Y/N). Aftercare is just as important as foreplay.”

(Y/N) opened his mouth to speak, but found, again, that the words were lost to him. He just gave a simple nod and the two of them moved closer together. Crowley wrapped an arm underneath his shoulders and over his waist, pulling their naked bodies close. (Y/N) placed one of his hands on Crowley’s torso, his head lying against his chest. A part of him was expecting to hear a heartbeat echo in his ear, but the lack thereof only reminded him of his sins. They sat in silence for a while, embracing one another. Crowley’s hand slowly rubbed (Y/N)’s hips, and it made him realize just how sore he was going to be for a while.

He didn’t care.

“You know,” Crowley finally spoke up. “If you ever become too tense, you can always give me a call. I have no problem giving in to your needs.”

“I’m not that desperate,” (Y/N) mumbled.

Crowley chuckled, and (Y/N) could feel the vibration against his fingertips and cheek. “I beg to differ, darling, with the way you were just begging for release.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks heated up. He knew what he had done was wrong, but whoever said that hunters had to be perfect? Or right, for that matter. No one had gotten hurt - maybe he would hurt for a while after this, but that was beside the point - and demons were going to be hunted down as a result of their deal. Crowley wasn’t a selfish lover, quite the contrary. He was the best that (Y/N) ever had. He was only human. Despite the moral aspect of it all, perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have someone like Crowley just a call away.

For his needs.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

#Supernatural #supernatural #SPN #spn #Supernatural x Reader #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #SPN x Reader #Crowley Macleod #Crowley x Reader #Crowley x Male!Reader #Male!Reader #Supernatural Scribe #Supernatural Smut #Supernatural x Male!Reader #SPN x Male!Reader #Crowley Macleod Smut #Crowley Smut

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the-milk-monarch · 9 months

Text

[𝚂𝙼𝙾𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙳]

Summary: General headcanons.

[𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎]

He'd be very hesitant to try any illegal (or legal, depending where you live) substance.

You gotta be on very close terms, and he needs to trust you a lot.

Would be surprised, first of all, when you offered.

I imagine he was a "good boy" throughout his life, so he'd have to think about it.

But if you finally get to it, he'd be quite fun.

After he goes through the several coughing fits, of course.

You make sure to bring him something cold to drink though, to help with the burning throat.

I imagine he'd focus on all the touchy-feely aspects of weed, like enjoying soft fabric, the euphoria, better music and so on.

It'd be quite an adorable sight of him "discovering" those.

The both of you had already prepared everything for a good smoking session, or so you thought. You noticed you didn't have a tv remote nearby to change the screen to Netflix, so you had to leave Mike alone on the couch for a moment. Mike felt all tingly and slightly dazed, nothing he had ever experienced before. It was both terrifying and kinda cool. He patiently waited for your return, but as he got slightly bored, his eyes began to wander around. His focus got fixated on a fluffy blanket you were supposed to cover yourself with. He gently picked it up with curiosity. His fingers just touched the nicest fabric known to man. It took you a while, but you eventually found the remote. Which was left in your room. You should really watch where you put your things while stoned. You couldn't hide the smile you had on your face as you noticed Mike getting comfy with the fluffy blanket. He made his lower half into a burrito, fidgeting with the tip of the blanket with his hands. After he noticed you staring he immediately stopped, though. "Oh- You're back." He smiled nervously. "You mind sharing that blanket?" You smiled back, nearing closer to the boy. "Right, of course, you can come here." He changed his position as he quickly reacted. You got under the blanket with the remote in your hand, sitting next to him as your side touched his. "It's- very comfy." He quietly remarked with a shy smile as a fact, but also to explain his "weird" behavior. "Not as much as you." You joked as you leaned your head on his shoulder, flashing a silly smile. His face flushed a slight shade of red as he chuckled.

Not that he'd demand it, but... If you pet his head, he'd appreciate it a lot 👉👈

Do it please, he'll melt.

[𝙼𝚊𝚕]

Surprisingly, he never tried it.

Ok, he may have, once or twice, but it was with a bad crowd most probably, so that doesn't count.

He'd also have to trust you quite a lot to be exposed to such an activity, it'd leave him vulnerable, after all.

But if you're close together then it wouldn't be such a big deal for him.

Weed paranoia might set in if the vibe in his mind ain't right though.

Then he'd be closed off and not really having fun.

But if not, he'd be quite chiller version of himself.

And you try your best so he'd be comfy.

"So- How do you feel?" You asked, looking at him. An idea has already formed in your head, but for now, you try to test the waters. He reciprocated the stare briefly, taking a second to process what has been said to him. "I'm- fine. Why do you ask?" "Do you wanna feel even better?" You ambiguously (in his pov) asked. He raised an eyebrow at you. You could've worded yourself better, but it's what you have to roll with now. "I mean-" You tried to explain yourself, but it's hard to form words in your state. At least you and him are both stoned, so it's unlikely Mal would cringe too much at you. "Since we're watching a movie, and I see you sitting so tense, why don't you- lay down?" You lightly suggested. He shot you yet another confused stare. "You care a lot about my comfort now, huh?" He asked you in a bit poking fun way, but it was all lighthearted - at least you thought so. "I'm very hospitable to my guests, what can I say?" You smoothly tried to save your face. He rolls his eyes at you, after which he smirks slightly. "Alright. But what about you? What if I take all of the couch space?" He raised his brow in a bit amused manner. "You know, you can just put your head on my lap." The words spilt out of your mouth. You got some surprised yet entertained at your boldness stare. "Don't think it's gonna become a habit." He 'warned' you before hesitating for a second and carefully placing himself down. His head awkwardly leaned on your lap. He wasn't used to being in such position. "And that's supposed to be comfy?" He was laying on his back as he looked you straight in the eyes with a halfly playful and doubtful expression. You noticed it was your cue, so you gently raised your hand to touch his hair. He got slightly alarmed at what you're doing, but after your fingers touched his hair and made the first pet, his expression softened a little. His face remained neutral, although it was visible from his body language that he actually enjoyed the closeness. "...So? Feeling comfy yet?" You playfully asked, playing with his hair. It was quite fluffy, as you expected. "Hm... I agree it is enjoyable to have a useful pawn at your disposal." He joked with a slightly silly smirk.

Surprisingly enough, he'd be quite funny when watching some shitty movies.

Like this guy has some sick ass roasts for the bad characters + stupid plot mixture.

Sorry but Mal strikes me as a hidden comedian.

Of course, it's only funny if you're into his humor though.

Loves listening to music high, the lyrics just flow in his head.

Are you up for listening to My Chemical Romance with him??

[𝚅𝚒𝚝𝚘]

This boy must have smoked some before.

Or at least seems like the type who would.

He'd be way more annoying with his flirts.

Weed gives him confidence, and it's already oozing out of him enough while sober.

An opposite of Mal, in a sense that Vito just cannot be funny.

You may only laugh at how bad his jokes are (respectfully).

This won't stop him from having a good time and laughing at his own jokes though.

To be fair, on weed everything is way funnier, so Vito passes the hilarity scale anyway .

He also laughs at the dumbest things.

Show him funny videos compilation and he'll have a good time.

Would get even lazier.

Expect him to be all over the couch.

Oops, guess there's no place to sit now.

Better go cuddle with him.

You just came back from going to the kitchen to get some more food and here you saw your place on the couch taken. "Vito." You shot him a half-serious glare, to which he just stretched more comfortably. "Hm? Oh, did ya really like that spot on the couch?" He said looking at you, playful and smug. You rolled your eyes at him, waiting for him to move. He didn't. He just looked at you, as if testing your patience. "Sorry, I look too good right now to move from this place." He playfully stuck out his tongue with a smirk. You took it as a challenge, so you just squeezed yourself in-between the couch and him, making him almost fall off the couch when he lost balance. "Aye, yo- you gonna drop the goods-" He quickly remarked as he got his balance back. You chuckled and caught him with your arm on his side, supporting his body so he wouldn't fall down. He readjusted into a comfier position, facing you. "Ain't it better laying here?" He said with a smirk.

Perfect fit to watch movies while cuddling.

Especially some cool, action ones.

That way he can tell you how he's as amazing as those guys in the movie, and that he could do anything, like that guy from Need for Speed.

If you disagree, he'll be very disappointed.

[𝚂𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚊]

It'd be... an usual sight to see her smoke.

I mean, she's so active and energetic-

It kind of translates to something else when she's high.

She loves to talk on weed.

"Vant me to tell you zat one time I got a golden medal?" The enthusiasm was fully visible on her face. "Of course." You nodded lazily but with curiosity. "Oh, great! It vas near the time I performed my first backflip!" She reminisced and continued. "I'll tell you about zat too!"

She's so social, talkative, expressive and overall joyous.

You think it's quite adorable, and you don't mind listening.

You forget everything she said after few minutes anyway.

Don't worry, she'll say it again, with the same enthusiasm.

But don't take her as a selfish one, she'd love to intently listen to your stories too!

She'll try her best to remember them as well.

On a funny scale, Sveta is most likely the 3rd funniest one, I don't make the rules (I do actually)

She can be a bit- savage, if she wants to.

Especially when it amuses you.

She loves to see your smile.

She's also such a cuddlebug!

Loves to stay close to you, you're like her personal pillow.

You noticed the window to your room being open. You didn't mind a slightly colder room, but you wondered if Svetlana was bothered by it. "Hey, Sveta, are you cold?" You asked casually, gaining her focus. "Are you?" She looked at you like a concerned mother. "Nah, I'm fine." You calmed her down, although you couldn't deny the dirty truth. "I mean, maybe a bit, but I'm too lazy to go close it." "Oh, zis is unacceptable-" She scooted closer to you as she said halfly-jokingly and embraced you tightly. She gently laid you down with her body weight and put herself on your chest. You felt her arms holding you as she had a warm smile on her face, giving you a nice source of heat now. "Is zat better?"

[𝚂𝚌𝚘𝚝𝚝]

He'd be a total dork.

He has never smoked weed, but will act like an expert.

"Hey, Scott, you sure you're gonna handle that much?" You asked, concerned about Scott's wellbeing after you noticed his share of weed. "Psh, I'm gonna be fine!" He brushed you off with a simple gesture with his hand. You watched as the boy with freckles on his face got the bong in his hands and started to inhale the smoke. He tried his damn best, but he couldn't stop the attack of sudden coughing it gave him. "Ih'm- Good-" He managed to cough out.

After trying to appear cooler, he'd behave a lot more dumber.

Which made it harder for you to stop giggling after each of his response.

"So- Whatchu wanna watch?" You asked him lazily. "Wha- Huh-" He looked around, thrown off of his thoughts. You laughed softly at his state. "...What was the question again?" He looked at you, really dumbfounded. "What movie do you want to watch?" You repeated with a chuckle. "...One that has moving pictures in it."

He also wouldn't be able to resist the food.

The pure joy in his eyes once he took a bite out of the pizza you ordered before smoking-

Is also a lot more excited for things, like "Woah, there are still onion rings left? Amazing!"

Is also down for like, anything you suggest.

Wanna watch a movie? Got it.

Wanna watch the paint dry? Sure thing.

(He used to it for fun as a child, anyways)

Wanna sit on the floor, stopping whatever you were doing to pet your dog/cat? Count him in!

His whites turn so red because of his blue eyes- (I experienced it first hand)

[𝙶𝚠𝚎𝚗]

She totally smokes weed on her own, from time to time.

So she's not as afraid to do it with you for the first time.

Her social anxiety would be slightly lowered, and so she wouldn't be as self-conscious to get vulnerable around you.

She would probably have a good time.

Also would get more touchy, she rediscovered her biggest weakness, affection.

She usually doesn't receive much of it, given her closed off and calm body language around others.

She'd be the one to ask for permission to touch your hair (if you're close, of course).

She loves to play with it, you're like a personal kitty to her.

Loves watching horror movies with you!

Whether bad or not, she's up.

Her favorites are Scream, Nightmare on Elm Street and Scary Movie series, which she enjoys a bit ironically (not all of the jokes from the movie aged well).

If you're scared of horror though, she'll light up the mood with silly jokes and lots of cuddling.

She looks the best in her cozy pajamas, laying on the bed with you.

Sorry Gwen-fans, no little situation bit for Gwen 😔 I'm feeling uncreative on this one

[𝙽𝚘𝚊𝚑]

You wouldn't expect him to actually agree to smoke weed with you.

Turns out, he's up for it.

I mean, he never saw it as anything spectacular, but could understand why people do it.

Never planned on doing it himself, but since you offered, he's slightly curious to try.

Que nonchalant coughing after inhaling too much on the first try.

Don't make fun of him.

Would internally salivate after the hunger hit him like a train right when he finished smoking.

"So- What do you want to eat first?" You casually asked. He waited a bit before answering. "Anything works, really." You passed him a very good looking, chocolate donut. He took it into his hands, looking at it a bit before taking a bite. His eyes opened a bit wider while experiencing the explosion of flavor from it. "I never thought I'd know what Owen feels like on the daily."

Would get like, 10x funnier.

Watch a movie with him, it'll be a blast.

He's the type to sarcastically comment on a cheap 3D during a movie scene. "Geez, if I wanted to watch a bad production, I'd watch Total Drama."

Would probably cringe after the smoking session was over though.

As if he shown "too much of his bad side", which he usually smoothly tries to hide.

But it wouldn't be such a big deal, he just isn't in the mood to hear your teasing at something silly he might have done then.

Actually would be up to smoking again, it seems like a blast.

[𝙲𝚘𝚍𝚢]

Yes he smoked all the weed, everytime and anywhere.

Don't actually let him smoke too much though, he'd get obliterated.

He has never tried weed, but wanted to try it with you, since you offered, and he thought it'd be a good idea.

But he found out he's slightly paranoid after it.

And his awkwardness doubles.

I mean, how can he not, he has to show his best self to you!

He calms down once you put him in a good place mentally.

He can't stay in his limbo of intrusive thoughts if he's got a bad joke to laugh at.

His honest laugh is so pure.

He didn't even know how much of a sweet tooth he'd become after smoking.

He likes sweet to a relatively normal degree while sober, but boy oh boy that chocolate bar is looking good right now-

He won't stop eating them unless you tell him to leave you some, to which he'd embarrassingly chuckle at. "Sorry-"

If he's feeling brave after all of that character development, he might subtly suggest snuggling together.

He just got to see how amazing it is to have a heightened sense of touch, and he's not gonna waste it.

"Do you- also feel a bit cold?" He asked, trying to be casual. "No, actually. Do you?" You responded honestly, leaving him a bit out of options as to what to say. "Um... I- kinda- do-" He stayed 'nonchalant' as he fidgeted a little with his hands, trying to keep his body language neutral. You didn't think a lot before responding back. "You can come closer, I don't mind." You casually said. You didn't really mind the close proximity while high, you liked having someone to casually lean onto. And you certainly didn't mind it with him. "Oh, that's fine then-" He scooted over to you in a smooth, yet a bit hesitant manner. You felt Cody's warm side beside yours. "If it's not weird with you, you can like- comfortably lay on me, if you want." You lightheartedly and carefully suggested, not wanting to seem like a weirdo, in case he's not as open to physical touch. Cody's eyes widened a little, but he wasn't about to decline your offer. "O-okay!" He exclaimed, trying to contain his excitement, not to seem too desperate for any sort of affection right now. He entangled his arm slightly into yours to get even closer, after which he leaned his head on your shoulder. "Amazing..." He mumbled to himself with a goofy smile, hoping you wouldn't hear.

If you're like his best friend and he's comfy around you, prepare yourself for a karaoke night of stupid songs like California Girls.

This boy can get silly.

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