#it’s been a while since i stayed up until four in the goddamn morning writing a fic. old habits die hard i guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shycoconutt · 3 years

Text

I Need You (Kakashi x Reader Smut)

A/n: Oh boy do I got some smutty smut for you. This is my first time writing smut and I think I did okay! Please let me know what you think and, as always, feel free to send some requests my way! 🤍

Summary: You find yourself unbelievably horny waiting for Kakashi to get home from work. The night goes exactly as planned.

Word Count: 4200

Warnings: NSFW ( minors, there's the door -> 🚪), fem!reader, vaginal sex, rough sex, doggy style, cunnilingus

Gods, why am I so horny?

Sat in the reading chair in the corner of your and Kakashi’s bedroom, you find yourself unable to focus on the new novel you picked up at the bookstore this morning. Each time you try to focus on the words in front of you, your eyes start to drift off the page and fall on your bed across the room. The bed where Kakashi and you have had sex now maybe a dozen times. You two have been platonic partners for years, but it wasn’t until recently where you both allowed your feelings to blossom into romance. Some would say that your relationship with Kakashi came on fast, but those who say that don’t truly know either of you.

After the war, and after keeping your feelings for each other bottled down for years, Kakashi took you on a vacation to a quaint village on the outskirts of Konoha. During your stay, you two could finally relax and find comfort in each other. The future seemed less uncertain, and you allowed yourself to open up in ways you never had before. You both knew you loved each other, that you were meant for each other, but the stress of war and the lack of knowledge that either of you would come out alive prevented anything from happening. The last thing either of you wanted to do was take the other’s heart six feet under.

It was the third night on the trip when he proposed to you. Kakashi and you were naked together in the natural hot spring, embracing each other in the water. The words he spoke to you that night are etched in your brain, never to be forgotten.

“My whole life I’ve been fighting; fighting for Konoha, fighting for my team, fighting for our friends, fighting my demons, fighting the truth, and fighting the feelings I have for you. I never understood why it was so hard to escape you, but it isn’t until now where I finally understand. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Our love is so natural, so pure. It pains me to know that our reality has muddled it for so long. You are the best thing that’s ever come into my life, and the gods only know how thankful I am that you have been by my side through it all. Everything I’ve ever gone through, every challenge I’ve had to overcome, you’ve guided me along the way. I used to think I was undeserving of your love, but now that we both are standing here, bruised and battered by our past, I realize that it was always supposed to be this way. You and me. Forever.”

That was the night you and Kakashi shared your first kiss. The night you first held each other in a naked embrace. The night you touched the skin normally concealed under each other's clothes. The night you trailed kisses down his chest, to his stomach, his hip, and up his shaft. The night you grabbed him in your hand and stroked him while looking into his eyes. The night you felt his tongue draw across your nipples. The night you felt him suck and nibble at your neck. The night you felt his fingers, god his fingers, trace up your wet heat to rub onto your most sensitive spot. The night he held onto your hip and slid into your tenderness. The night you whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears while he pumped into you. The night you made love, four times.

It’s been a week since your mini-vacation of ultimate bliss. Immediately after arriving back to the village, you both moved out of your individual apartments and moved into the Hatake estate, per Kakashi’s request. When you asked him if this is truly what he wanted, he assured you that this was the place he wanted to make a home with you and your future children. He also liked that the estate is largely removed from the Hokage tower, where he will be spending the majority of his time in the future. Renovations are far from over, but your bedroom was the first area of the house to be set up. It’s your shared sanctuary, and to be completely honest, you’ve never felt more at home.

The only word to describe this week between you and Kakashi is passionate. Even with opposite schedules, you both make time for one another every day. You’ve been insanely busy at your new job that you acquired post-war, spearheading the mental health resource center for war veterans and shinobi still in active duty. Kakashi is busy shadowing Tsunade while she sorts out post-war rehabilitation plans for the village. This is your first day off and, unfortunately, Kakashi is out doing future Hokage duties. Though frustrating, both of you are super understanding of each other's roles in this village and you respect that time with each other may be limited in the coming years. That’s why any chance you get, you both check in on each other throughout your day. Whether it’s offering to take his ninken on a walk while he’s in the office, or him bringing you breakfast when you get to work, you find opportunities to be present in each other’s daily lives.

The evenings, however, are a whole other story. Both of you are usually home a little after eight, and you’ve adapted to having late dinners with each other. After cleaning up, the rest of the evening is spent wrapped up in each other. One thing you weren’t expecting about being with Kakashi is that he is constantly touching you when you are alone together. His hands are either on your thighs, wrapped in your hair, caressing your face, squeezing your arms, massaging your shoulders, touching your lips, or any other way he can get them on you. You crave his touch, so to say that you enjoy this side of him is an understatement. Not only does Kakashi adore touching you, he also adores being touched.

Touching leads to caressing, caressing leads to groping, and groping leads to passionate lovemaking.

Well, geez (y/n), maybe if you stopped daydreaming about Kakashi’s hands all over you then you wouldn’t be this goddamn horny.

Here’s the thing with you and Kakashi’s newfound sex life. You are in the early stages. All the sex you have is all about romance, making up for the lost time, and finally expressing your feelings with your body. It’s amazing and you wouldn’t change your lovemaking for the world.

But right now, you don’t desire lovemaking. You desire rough, animalistic, dirty, dirty sex.

The kind of sex that makes you shudder in desire and fear.

The kind of sex that makes in between your legs sore the next day.

Realizing you’ve been daydreaming for the past fifteen minutes, you close your novel shut and toss it aside. You look over at the clock on your nightstand to find that it’s almost time for Kakashi to be home. Usually, you would already be cooking something up for dinner, but you have a feeling that any food you make would just get cold. Eating is not your priority right now, Kakashi is.

A devious smile forms at your lips when you consider what you plan on doing with him when he walks through the front door. Should you take him right there? Get down on your knees and beg for him? Run a warm, candle-lit bath? Put whip cream on your tits and tell him that you’re his dinner? All great options, but none are really representative of how much you need him.

In one swift movement, you are up off your chair and running towards your closet. He could be here any minute and there’s no time to waste. Once there, you take in how disorganized your closet is. You have yet to unpack any of your clothes, as all you’ve worn the past week is your jonin uniform and your pajamas. Rummaging through the boxes sprawled out on the floor, you finally find which box you are looking for. The box looks like any other box, but written on the side in marker is the word intimates.

Bingo.

One might think you are a sex fiend with all the lingerie you own, but that is far from reality. The truth is, lingerie has always made you feel sexy. Most of all, it’s just so pretty. You love the power it gives you. You love the fact that no one knows that some days you are wearing the world’s skimpiest lingerie underneath your uniform. It’s like you have an edge on someone that they don't even realize. Also, when you did happen to end up in bed with a man, you were over-prepared. The look on their faces when you stripped off your clothes was priceless. It was your way of telling them that you expected them to want you.

There are way too many options to choose from, and you find yourself starting to panic as time passes on. You know you’re overthinking this as, honestly, Kakashi would love anything you put on. Some things you know about Kakashi are that his favorite color is blue, he loves your thighs and is obsessed with how soft your skin is. Therefore, you should obviously go for the baby blue lace and silk set. It includes a lace balconette bra, a thong connected to thigh garters, and a silk robe to go over the top. After putting it on and taking a look at yourself in the mirror, you knew you made the right choice.

Before finding a comfortable spot on the bed, you quickly grab some baby oil and rub it all over your body. The oil will allow Kakashi to slide his hands all over you effortlessly, which is exactly what you need. Satisfied, you grab your book and lay on top of your made bed. You weren’t planning on actually reading, but you think your casualness while wearing such a sexy outfit will have Kakashi’s head spinning.

So there you were, belly down, ass out, feet intertwined, book in hand, when you heard the lock click and the front door open. Perfect timing.

You could hear Kakashi kick off his shoes and take off his vest as he walked into your home. Usually, you would be standing in the kitchen where he would come and give you a warm embrace and kiss you until you told him that he has to eat dinner. But, you're not there, and you can sense his confusion.

“Where’s my babygirl?” Kakashi’s voice projects throughout the house, a hint of concern in his voice. You smile at the thought of the pout that’s probably on his face right now.

“Sorry sweetheart, I’ve been caught up in my new book. I’m in the bedroom,” you call back to him.

You hear what sounds like a sigh of relief as his footsteps make their way down your hallway in the direction of your bedroom, the sounds of pieces of his uniform dropping off of him every few steps. You make sure to keep your head turned to the door so you can take in his reaction to your state.

“Oh, the new book you got this morning? How is it? Let me guess, you already finished-”

An indescribable feeling shoots through your whole body as Kakashi enters your bedroom. He just finished pulling his mask down his face, as his hand is still caught to the fabric pooling around his neck. With a smile on your face, you soak in his expression as he’s stood in the entrance of your room, a deep blush forming on his cheeks and his mouth still agape in mid-sentence. His eyes dart back and forth from your face to the bottom of your ass that’s hanging out of your silk robe.

Damn, you really did that (y/n).

“What’s wrong, Kashi?” You say in the most innocent voice you can muster. You bat your eyelashes and flip over to sit up so he can get a good look at you. You let your book drop off the bed and land on the floor.

There’s another pause before Kakashi slowly walks towards you on the bed. Without speaking, he reaches a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you up so you're kneeling on the bed as he stands in front of you. His dark eyes bore into yours as both of his hands drop to your thighs. Slowly, he grazes them up over your hips, your waist, up the sides of your breasts, to wrap around the back of your neck. You can feel the hairs on your skin stand in anticipation. With his hands still wrapped around you, he brings his head down to you and grazes his mouth on your jawline. From there he plants small kisses up the side of your face until he reaches your ear where he nibbles before speaking to you in a strained, low tone.

“You’re a very dangerous woman, (y/n).”

He must have felt you shudder because you could feel him smile against your cheek. Standing up straight again, Kakashi’s hands drop to the tie of your robe around your waist.

“May I?” he asks, giving you the sexiest look you’ve ever seen. Kakashi has been so effortlessly attractive since you met when you were young. Having these intimate moments with him almost seems surreal.

“Of course, Hatake,” you smile up at him.

Taking the tie in his hands, he starts to unravel the knot keeping your robe together. Once loose, he lets it fall over your shoulders and off your body completely.

After a few moments taking in the sight of you, Kakashi lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head.

“You’re so out of my league,” he confesses to you.

You let out a small giggle.

“Absolutely not,” you protest.

Without missing a beat, Kakashi grabs on to you and tosses you back on the bed so you are laying down underneath him. One of his hands wraps around the back of your head while the other cups your breast. Pulling the fabric of your bra down, he kneads your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. One of his knees lands in between your legs and he brings it up to press on to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes as you feel him all around you.

“So what’s the deal?” Kakashi teases. “I leave you alone in the house for one day and I come back to this?” He looks down at your body and back up again. “Where did you get this outfit, hm?”

“Oh baby,” you start teasing him back, “I guess one thing you don’t know about me yet is that I wear lingerie like this all the time.”

“Oh really?” he questions.

“Yep, all the time.” You smirk at what you’re about to say next. “Actually, remember that one time we were stationed together in the Earth country for a month for that S-rank assassination mission?”

Kakashi nods, confused where you’re going with this story.

“We let our guards down and almost hooked up the last night before we came back to the village.”

“I remember.”

“Well,” you pause for effect, “guess what I was wearing underneath my uniform that night?”

Kakashi remains silent, brows furrowed waiting for you. You smile at him deviously as you say your answer.

“This.”

Kakashi lets out what can only be described as an aroused, defeated groan when you utter your confession. He quickly comes back down and your mouths crash together in a heated frenzy. It isn’t until now when you realize that his bulge is hard against your leg, asking to be broken free from the confinement of his pants. While making out, you reach down and slip your hand under his waistband and grab onto his throbbing cock, stroking it in your hand. Although rock hard, the skin of his cock is soft and velvety.

Kakashi moans in your mouth when you make contact with him, but quickly escapes your grasp and gets up off of you. Sprawled out on the bed, you watch him strip down naked in front of you, starting with his shirt, then his pants and briefs. His body is truly something to marvel at, as decades of being a ninja have carved his body into perfection. You love the way his member slaps against his lower stomach when he pulls it from its confinement, excited and eager for you. He stands for a moment, contemplating what to do with you.

“I don’t want to take that pretty outfit off of you just yet. I guess I’ll just have to work around it for now,” Kakashi says as he stands at the end of the bed. Grabbing your ankles, he pulls you towards him and bends your legs upward until your knees meet your chest. Holding both of your legs up with one hand, he takes the other and spanks your ass cheek with a loud slap. You whimper from the sting while he rubs the mark he left. Kakashi sucks in another loud breath.

“Ugh, (y/n), you look so good for me.”

Before you can respond, Kakashi takes your thong and slides it over so you are exposed to him. Getting down on his knees, he brings his face to your glistening cunt and flattens his tongue against it. There he gives you one long lick up your slit to taste you. A moan erupts from him as your wetness meets his taste buds.

“You’re already so wet for me baby,” Kakashi breathes before going in to suck on you.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you confess through your moans. “I only get this wet for you.”

“That’s because you're mine and mine only.”

Kakashi takes his time with you, almost as if this is his last meal on earth and he wants to savor it. He’s delicate in some moments and fierce in others. Incorporating his fingers, he slides them into you and curves them up to hit your g-spot repeatedly while eating you. Your hand instinctively cradles his face while the other intertwines with his silver locks. You start to feel tightness in your lower stomach as he brings you close to climax. The sound of his moans muffled inside you is enough to send you over the edge.

“Kakashi, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Come for me, baby,” Kakashi nods, giving you permission to let go.

Letting go of Kakashi, you grip onto the sheets around you, feeling the tightness build and drop out of you. Closing your eyes, the waves of ecstasy ripple throughout your body causing you to scream out in pleasure. Riding with you, Kakashi slowly continues to work you through your climax, cleaning up whatever juices spill over.

“Good girl,” He says to you while bringing your legs back down onto the bed. Slowly, he kisses up your thighs while hooking onto your thong, bringing it down off of them. While he does this, you reach around and unclasp your bra, throwing it aside. Once the thong is thrown aside as well, Kakashi lifts himself off the floor and flips you over so you're laying on your stomach, another smack landing on your ass cheek. The high from your orgasm is immediately replaced with anticipation for what he plans on doing to you next.

You feel Kakashi’s naked body slide on top of you until he's flush against your skin, his body completely enveloping yours. Once his face is level with yours, and his cock is hard against your backside, he brushes your hair away from your face.

“Are you ready for me?” Kakashi whispers into your ear.

You nod into the mattress, chest rising and falling with every strained breath.

“You need to use your words, (y/n),” Kakashi scolds you while tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I need you, Kakashi. Please, I need you.” Your words come out as a plea, not being able to take his absence any longer.

You feel Kakashi’s weight lift off of you as he reaches around your waist and lifts it up so your ass is tilted upwards. From there you can feel him position his tip at your entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down to spread your wetness.

“Please, Kashi, I need your cock inside me,” you beg.

Without further hesitation, you feel every inch of him slide into your folds until he’s bottomed out inside you. The feeling of him deep within you sends you into euphoria and you can feel yourself tighten around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Kakashi whispers.

Starting off slow, he pumps into you with control. You feel pleasure and pain as Kakashi kisses your neck while grabbing onto your hair. After each thrust you feel him going faster and harder, your bodies smacking against each other. To gain more leverage, he lifts off of you and brings you up onto your hands and knees. With his hand gripping your shoulder, he pumps into you with ferocity.

“For years I’ve touched myself thinking about getting to fuck you like this baby. You’re so beautiful and so good to me. Everything about your body draws me to you,” Kakashi says in between moans. You feel him start to twitch inside you, his thrusts getting more out of control. You look over your shoulder and meet his gaze.

“We deserve this baby. You deserve this. Give me everything.” You both know your words mean more than just sex, and Kakashi relishes them.

Lifting you up by your neck, Kakashi brings you toward him so you're both kneeling while he continues thrusting inside of you. He brings one hand around your front to circle your clit and the other cups your breast. Your hands lift up behind you to grab onto his face. Turning your head to him, you kiss him with every ounce of passion you have left. This new position is hitting you at your core and you can feel yourself tighten again. Kakashi must have felt it too, as he broke free from your mouth to tilt his head back in pleasure. Without exchanging words, you know you both are at your limit.

With a few last staggering thrusts, both of you reach climax in unison. Feeling yourself go limp, Kakashi wraps his arms around you to keep you steady. You feel streams of his hot semen pool inside of your contracting walls. With Kakashi’s moans singing in your ear, you can’t help but smirk at his vulnerability. With him still inside, you hold onto each other, trying to catch your breaths. After a few beats, you both begin to laugh at your exasperated states.

“Stay here, I’m going to get a towel,” Kakashi says while shifting out of you. After pulling a towel from the cupboard in your bathroom, Kakashi brings it to you and cleans up between your legs. Before you have time to move, Kakashi picks you up bridal style and spins you around in his arms.

You scream and start to laugh as he plants kisses all over your face. “Kakashi!”

“Hm?” he hums in your ear, pretending he didn’t just lift you with little to no effort.

Holding you up with one arm, he grabs a blanket off the bed and carries you to the chair in the corner of your room. There he sits down and places you sideways on his lap so you’re facing each other. He then takes the blanket and wraps it around you both so you can stay warm while cuddling each other. Kakashi has always had a knack for knowing exactly what you want at any given moment.

“I thought we could get some inspiration for our next round,” Kakashi says with a smirk as he pulls out a copy of Icha Icha Tactics from underneath the cushion.

“What? How did that get there?” you laugh.

“Oh, I have multiple copies of these everywhere,” he jokes, waving the book in the air.

You laugh and lightly hit his chest. Tucking the blanket up closer to your face, you lay your head down on Kakashi’s shoulder while he flips open to a page in the book.

Before he starts to read to you, Kakashi lifts your chin to kiss you. Every time your lips touch his, flashes of your joint past enters your mind. Although it was hard, and you faced many difficult trials on the way, you are forever thankful that you were both able to live long enough to experience these moments. You took care of each other, lifted each other up when they were in the dirt, and now you can finally share the love you’ve always held for each other. You wouldn’t change any of it. After your kiss, before pulling away from you, Kakashi looks deep into your eyes.

“I love you, (y/n).”

You smile up at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

“I love you too, Kakashi. Forever.”

A/n cont.: Well, whattdaya think? :)

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi fanfic #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi #kakashi imagine #naruto fanfiction #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi one shot #kakashi x yn #kakashi sensei #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake smut

1K notes · View notes

sleeping-sirens · 3 years

Text

08| Luminescence (Diamond)

Masterlist

Intro - One - Two -Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Eight

a/n: I am so proud of this chapter! If you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it please show some support! 🤍

Idle mornings never existed in a house where Baekhyun was around. His presence was heavy and prominent, awakening all of Ara's senses.

His voice has always been the last thing lulling her to sleep and the first thing waking her up in the morning. Whether it was hearing him humming calmly while focusing on a random task, listening to music and diving into his world, singing her sleep or just talking on the phone and laughing out loud with no worry in the whole world.

Smelling food burning from the kitchen where he knew he didn't belong but never halted from trying to cook something for her, especially in the mornings now since he'd been very busy with back to back schedules before enlisting to the military. Or catching his perfume in every inch of her body and every corner of the house, marking every nook and crevice around her with the scent of him and only him until the only thing she had ever known was him.

Tasting his sweet and spicy flavored kisses whenever she desired because he'd give her his all until he couldn't breathe and he would feel euphoric to even give her his last breath, never once regretting it. Baekhyun would give his life for her, pushing the thought that she can't live in a world where he didn't exist to the farthest bits of his head.

But Ara would always remind him that he was her soul and he would always find a way to outsmart her with his skillful mouth.

"You're my shining star Baekhyun, you know that? I'm just a dark and cold sky without you. I would never exist if you aren't existing, Baekhyun." She told him one day while they were stargazing. Without any introductions or going around in circles, she just blurted this sentence with no intentions of getting an answer back.

She was in her feels and her emotions overflowed the rims of her heart. Nothing helped her state, neither the fact that she was feeling free and safe inside Baekhyun's arms, just them merging into one human being, living and breathing the same air at the same time. Nor the fact that her head was resting on the left side of his chest where she could hear the steady and calm beating of his heart, swearing that her heart could melt right inside her chest and she wouldn't even notice because her body and Baekhyun's were one, whole, complete with one functioning heart.

She didn't know how she even managed to talk when all she wanted to do was to stay silent amid her wild thoughts and emotions. She could feel the electricity circling her and Baekhyun and hear their quietest whispers of love. They were in the forms of stolen gazes, lingering thoughts, comfortable hums, little smiles, and soft finger grazes over burning skins.

Baekhyun didn't want to answer her at first, just because he didn't know if he was alive or in the highest heavens. He could never decipher the difference between his dreams and reality when he was with her, because if this was real life, he would never have to close an eye again, afraid of a fleeting moment or a wasted hazy second, blurred away by a new brand day.

If he could stop the time, goddamn it, he would, without hesitation or second guesses. His time with her was placed over everything in this world, even if it meant it not being in real life. He would choose her, over and over again, in his dreams and reality.

"But Ara, love," he started, rolling his lower lip under his sharp tongue before biting on its plush edge. "Have you ever seen a star without a sky?" He asked before looking at her. "A sky can exist without stars but a star can never exist if there wasn't a sky to embrace her, to give her a place of comfort and welcome her with arms open wide."

"But an empty and starless sky would be so awful to look at," she winced, conjuring a cute grimace on her face. "Imagine us now looking at an empty sky..." her words stopped because she didn't know what else to add besides the look of wonderments on her face. "What would happen if the sky had no stars?"

"We would still be looking at it, wondering what lies within and what goes beyond our vision. Wondering if one day we would be able to reach a limit and smile in victory. Just looking at it and driving our minds to the bottomless abyss of our deepest thoughts and random questionings."

Hand in hand they let their eyes swim through their lingering emotions. Baekhyun could catch the obvious glossy layer coating Ara's lower lash line and he smiled like a child, bringing her closer to him and kissing her as deeply as his thoughts, as widely as the sky, as passionately as his love. With his hands roaming all over her body, reaching for the hidden dark spots and the glowing cracks and the beautiful heart of hers that he cherished more than he could ever imagine.

She tasted him and his smirk, she tasted his sweet love and spicy mischieve, despite them being in a public area, she gave in to her lust and got drunk on his dirty words and sinful sounds, drunk on his skillful mouth and heart and mind. She gave into him until all that'd been ringing inside her mind at that moment was Baekhyun.

She would never forget the way he kissed her or how he slowly made love to her on that hill in UN Village overlooking Hannam-dong, which was exceptionally shining just for them that night. The stars and the city lights witnessed the story of two shining diamonds painting their skins with their unconditional love that outshined their luminescence.

If they could, the stars and the city lights would've sparked to death just to let Ara and Baekhyun show the world the sparkle of their love.

As Ara went over all the things that Baekhyun showed her and made her feel, she couldn't help but realize that his existence was inevitable and that made her scared to the point of losing her breath. She couldn't picture her life without him. She never prepared to get separated from him one day, sure they each had a life of their own outside of the relationship but they always managed to find their way back to each other.

Slowly, she rose from her bed with her head full of thoughts about him. Striding into the kitchen, his shirtless broad back caught her eyes. His skin glowed under the sun's golden streaks. Baekhyun was attractive, she couldn't deny it. Even after all this time, she still drowns under his appearance.

Without uttering a word, she took tiny steps forward until she arrived at his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her movements didn't phase him as he was focused on scrambling the eggs for them to have breakfast together. Ara placed a small kiss on his back before resting her cheek on his warm skin.

"Morning, love." He said and Ara couldn't miss the image of him smiling gently, even without seeing his face. That only showed how deep he inhabited her mind.

She closed her eyes and basked in the calm moment shared between them. "Any crazy schedules today?"

"The album is dropping today at 6," he started as he moved away from the stove to get the plates from the cupboard and she kept clinging onto him like a fingerprint. "So I'll go live today at around 5 pm. I don't have anything to do before that so today is pretty much rest day for me."

Baekhyun kept moving around with Ara sticking to his back and conversing back and forth with no worries. He let her enjoy his presence as much as she could. Even before his enlistment was close, sometimes Ara just wanted to forget about everything but his existence.

She sighed in contentment as she released her hold from him. Baekhyun turned around to face her.

He cast his gaze down on her and they savored the sweet and a slow moment. His smile grew gently as he kept his eyes anchored on her, just roaming all over her features. Baekhyun leaned down gently to give Ara a slow and sensual kiss on the lips before pulling slightly away, lips just mere inches away from each other, both of them refusing to open their eyes. Not getting enough of her, he added another gentle peck on her lips followed by a teasing bite, making her yelp and laugh.

She helped him set the plates on the table before they sat facing each other.

"I'll meet your mom today."

"Really? Where are you guys going?"

"Just the mall. We'll do some shopping. Will you be needing anything?"

"No, love. Just have fun stealing my mom away from me, I guess." Baekhyun laughed and booped her nose which made her roll her eyes jokingly.

"I'll make sure to tell her you said hi. She knows you're busy with your schedules that's why she doesn't like to bother you."

"I understand." Baekhyun nodded knowingly, a fond smile growing on his face at the mention of his mother. "You guys have fun. I'll see you before the live, make sure to come back home safely." He stood from the table, taking his plate and silverware to the kitchen before returning to the dining table.

Baekhyun leaned down to kiss Ara deeply on the lips, smiling through it as he heard her produce the tiniest hums of pleasure.

"Try not to miss me too much, okay love?" He smiled gently, pinching her right cheek which made her return the smile.

"Key word: try." She sighed before standing as well, giving Baekhyun a tight hug before each one of them went on with their day.

56 notes · View notes

moralesispunk · 3 years

Text

Content

Frankie Morales x Female Reader (no name, use of Y/N or physical description) Summary: On Will’s wedding day, Frankie reflects on his perfect, little family with you.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I am back from my holiday! I will be back to posting more regularly now and have started on my fisherman! Frankie fic which will begin soon while also working on the next caramel latte chapter!

Man, stop fixing your tie, it's fine!

Has anyone seen my cufflinks?

Do you have the rings?

I thought you had them?

What? I told you to lift them!

Wait... yeah they're in my pocket.

There was an organised chaos humming around the large hotel room that was suddenly feeling a lot smaller with the four men ransaking around as they prepared for the day ahead. Black tux jackets being swapped from man to man, hands reaching to straighten ties and bow-ties, the occasional hand running down a face when someone shouts out the time.

To be completely honest, none of them, least of all Will, thought this day would arrive. That somehow after all the shit that went down in South America he would end up in the same supermarket as his ex-fiance who caught him standing in front of the cereal aisle for five minutes, his head the noisiest yet quietest it had ever been. She took him to a coffee shop and listened as he told her everything that had gone wrong before giving him her number should he need to talk again. After seeing her it was the kick he needed to go to therapy and reevaluate his life, eventually finding the confidence to pick up the phone and ask her on a date.

Now, just over a year later, he was standing in a hotel room with his brothers in arms and preparing to wait at the end of the aisle for the love of his life. He was surprisingly panicked, something the rest of the guys had never seen before even on the toughest missions. Pope was trying to lighten the mood as he poured some of those tiny bottles of whiskey and tequila into glasses before passing them out while Benny had lost and found the rings three times now. But Frankie?

Frankie was watching silently from the corner, texting you to check that you and the kids were ready and on your way. After the text had been delivered he placed his phone inside his tux pocket, sighing when his eyes locked on his panicked friend. He pushed off from the wall and walked over to Will, placing steady hands on his friend’s shaking shoulders.

“I’m going to tell you what you told me the morning of my wedding,” Frankie’s unwavering voice suddenly quietened the room, “do you deserve that woman who will be walking down the aisle to you in less than an hour? Probably not. But does she love you more than anyone else in the world despite all the fucked up shit you’ve seen and done? Hell yeah. And do you love her?”

“More than anything,” Will sighed.

“Yeah you do,” Frankie took his hands from his friend’s shoulders and patted him on the back, “so let’s finish getting ready and then you can go make her your wife so you can be the best goddamn husband.”

The now calm room was a lot easier to get ready in, all four men looking in the mirror for one last check before heading to the door. As they walked to the elevator Frankie’s phone pinged and he took it out of the pocket to silence it before checking the text.

Just at the church now. Sofia was finally convinced to swap the Cinderella dress for the flower girl one and baby girl is still asleep, let’s hope it stays that way for the ceremony.

Frankie smiled down at his phone, leaning forward to press the elevator button for the ground floor before texting back.

My Mom will pick them up later and then we can enjoy the free bar:)

The text bubbles were already popping up and he waited for your response.

Are you trying to get me drunk Mr Morales?

Well, while I’m sure you look beautiful in that dress I will tell you I can’t wait to get it off you tonight ;)

Frankie! I’m in a church!

Frankie chuckled as the elevator bell rang again and it opened to the hotel lobby, now a lot quieter than it had been with all the guests already at the church that was attached to the side of the hotel.

Just heading over now, baby. See you soon.

It was barely a two minute walk to the church, quiet as the other three men let their friend sort his head up before the most important day of his life. The peace was disrupted with the church doors opening, the chatter halting for a moment as the heads turned and landed on Will and they followed him down the aisle.

Frankie’s eyes immediately landed on you, one of your hands balancing your eldest daughter who was bouncing on the pew seat while the other held your youngest to your chest. He paused as he reached your row, leaning across and giving a kiss to Sofia’s cheek and the top of baby girl’s head before finding your lips.

“You look... beautiful,” he whispered.

“And you look very handsome,” you whispered back as he stood up.

Frankie winked at you before following his brothers to the front of the church. It was a quick blur as they settled and the music began, notifying everyone of the bride’s soon to be arrival. At some point not long after the ceremony began, Frankie’s mind wandered back to his own wedding day four years ago.

He remembered how sick with nerves he felt the morning of until you started your walk down the aisle to him. You looked beautiful as you do everyday but now, with the air an official of commitment between you both, his heart faltered. He remembers every single word shared between you both, how you wiped his tears away with your thumb as he stuttered through his vows, how wide you smiled when you were pronounced husband and wife before biting your lip and leaning forward for your first kiss as a married couple.

His eyes moved up to find you again. You were whispering something in Sofia’s ear, your arm around her shoulder and keeping her close against your side with the baby tight against your chest and your arm slightly rocking to keep her asleep.

It was at this moment that a wave of contentness washed over him; looking at his perfect, little family that had brought him back from the darkest point in his life. His wife still looked at him with the same love and adoration as she did on their own wedding day. His eldest daughter looked at him like he could slay every monster and dragon like the ones in her storybooks, and he would if it meant she would be safe. His youngest always settled quickly in his arms, like those same hands hadn’t killed and hurt before.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, a small smile finding your lips. You mouthed those three words that you say to each other every day, which he returned knowing no one in the church was focused on him.

He had never felt the calmness that he was feeling in this moment before. For the first time he felt that somehow he maybe deserved the life that he had because no matter what he had done, in the army or on the grey legal area missions him and the guys had done since retirement, he loved the three of you more than anyone else would and he could protect you better than anyone else could.

Now, with his three beautiful girls happy and healthy and safe, he knew what real contentness felt like.

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @queridopascal @sfr99 @rosiefridayrogersunday

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #Frankie Morales x female reader #fic #fanfic #headcannon #oneshot

108 notes · View notes

tennessoui · 3 years

Note

i really am just so excited for part two of the roadtrip au and knowing it might be from obi-wan's perspective??? seeing obi-wan fawn over anakin while anakin dotes on him?? i'm losing my mind.

hey!!! bless!!!! i know i said it would be part 1, part 2, part 3, but i started writing part 2 and it's like already 2.2k long and they're just in Pennsylvania so i think we should all start thinking of this story as part 1 (finished, posted), ARC 2 (very long, is in segments, depending on what people wanna see and what road trip shenanigans i can think up), and part 3 (tbd)

anyway here's the 2.2k (squick: a/b/o, mpreg)

“Uh, sir? Are you...alright?”

That’s the gas station attendant. Obi-Wan barely resists the urge to thunk his head on the side of the bathroom stall. The only thing stopping him is how absolutely unsanitary it would be, and he already feels dirty enough. He pulls a few more squares of toilet paper from the dispenser and wipes at his mouth.

Of all the pregnancy symptoms he hates, he thinks morning sickness is the one he hates the most. And it’s the one that seems to be, for some reason, sticking around the longest.

He’d never even known how much of a misnomer morning sickness is, but it’s not like it’s only happening in the morning. He’ll feel nauseous halfway through the day, mid-afternoon, early evening.

His doctor and close friend at the hospital, Bant, had assured him this was normal and nothing to worry about. But it’s hard not to worry about it, especially when he lives with an Alpha who worries about everything.

“Just fine, thank you,” Obi-Wan says politely as he flushes the toilet and leaves before he can watch his breakfast spiral down and disappear. That’ll only make him feel even more sick.

The girl wrings her hands as she watches him wash his, and he has to take pity on her. She can’t be older than eighteen. “Morning sickness,” he tells her, placing a hand on the virtually unnoticeable swell of his belly.

“Oh!” she says. Obi-Wan fights the urge to grimace when he sees her eyes dart down to his unmarked neck. He knows how it looks. He knows how it sounds. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s quite alright,” he says. It’s not, but it is. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to have this conversation, doesn’t want to talk to this girl anymore. They’re passing through a small town in central Pennsylvania. He’s a pregnant, unmated, thirty-eight year old male omega. A rarity. A talking point. He doesn’t want to talk to her, he wants--

There’s a loud knock on the door to the bathroom. “Obi-Wan? Are you alright? Is there someone in there with you? I thought I heard voices. Obi-Wan? I’m coming in, Obi-Wan.”

Anakin.

Obi-Wan gets halfway through drying his hands before Anakin’s there, crowding him against the sink and nosing at his face and neck.

“Sir, this is a bathroom for omegas only!” the gas station attendant protests, but Anakin growls at her.

As much as the pregnancy has made Obi-Wan lose parts of himself to his Omegan side, it’s been ten times worse for Anakin for some reason. As far as Alphas go, Anakin’s always been a thoughtful, respectful one. Quick to anger, perhaps, but never violent or suspicious.

Now it’s like everyone in the world has done something to personally offend Anakin. Everyone but Obi-Wan.

If he didn’t feel such a burning, unignorable need to get to Seattle, Obi-Wan would have called the whole trip off weeks ago.

But he couldn’t then and he definitely can’t now, not when they’ve both taken the time off of work and Obi-Wan’s let his doctor know he’ll be out of the state and they’re already in Pennsylvania.

He’ll just let Anakin do whatever he needs to do to feel alright with taking a pregnant, unmated omega across the country. It’s not as if it’s a hardship to put up with all the scentings and hugs and looming and protectiveness.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Which just makes Obi-Wan feel even more guilty, the way he’s using Anakin like this. His dearest, closest friend, who is helping him in such an amazing way, and every time he touches him, it’s all Obi-Wan can do to not arch up into the touch.

He wishes he could blame it on the pregnancy hormones, the way his instincts are going haywire to keep an alpha--any alpha--close. But it’s not. It’s Anakin. It’s the fact that Obi-Wan is hopelessly, irreversibly in love with the alpha.

The touches and the scenting don’t mean what he wants them to. It doesn’t mean anything, the way Anakin pushes his shirts and sweaters to Obi-Wan’s chest and watches him put them on. He’s an observant man, his alpha. He knows Obi-Wan likes wearing his scent now that he’s pregnant. It’s comforting.

So even though it doesn’t mean anything at all, the way Anakin’s hands roam over his waist and stomach and hips as he growls at the poor gas station attendant, Obi-Wan has to fight to not push back into the touches, to not scent him in return.

He’s afraid once he does, he won’t be able to stop. The thought of it, of marking the beautiful, strong, virile alpha with his smell, is too addicting to ever risk trying.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just a bit of morning sickness,” he says lightly, touching Anakin’s chest gently. “She was just checking up on me.”

Anakin glares at the girl and starts to herd Obi-Wan out of the bathroom. “Not hers to check up on,” he mutters, hands latching onto Anakin’s hips and guiding him through the aisles of brightly colored chips and candy.

Obi-Wan thinks that for both of their sakes he should remind Anakin that he’s not his to check up on either, but he doesn’t want to, not when he can pretend for a little bit longer.

“I think I would like to lie down in the back for a bit,” he says, holding his stomach. “Just until we get out of this state.”

Anakin agrees immediately, like he knew he would. “Okay, Obi,” he murmurs, opening the car door for him. They’d laid down their suitcases in the wells behind the two front seats, and Anakin had thrown a couple of blankets over the entire area to make a sort of makeshift nest for Obi-Wan to sleep in should he want to.

They’ve only been driving for four hours, but Obi-Wan already wants to. He’s painfully on edge.

He hadn’t understood how hard it would be to convince his hindbrain and body to leave the safety of their apartment, but all he wants now is to nest somewhere safe for him and the baby. It would have been impossible to do this without Anakin.

“Alright,” the alpha says. “Um. Wait. Here.”

He shucks off his sweatshirt, a faded college one that Obi-Wan’s been coveting with his eyes since Anakin had put it on this morning. “Oh, dear one, no,” he forces himself to say anyway. “It’s December. You need a sweatshirt.”

“I’ll turn up the heat,” Anakin holds it out insistently, stubbornly. “Take it, come on.”

Obi-wan can only make himself hesitate for a second more before he’s snatching the soft fabric that smells like sunlight linen honeydew out of his hands and holding it greedily to his chest. “Alright.”

Under the weight of the alpha’s watchful eyes, Obi-Wan crawls into the backseat and curls up with his head diagonal from the driver’s seat. He thinks it’ll be nice to wake up and see Anakin’s profile whenever he wants to without additional shifting.

“Oh shit,” Anakin curses suddenly. “I was going to buy a coffee.” The alpha pauses, clearly torn between going back inside and not wanting to leave the omega alone in the car. But Obi-Wan knows Anakin, and he needs his coffee.

“Oh,” he says as if he’s just remembering something himself, “can you get me one of those bananas on the counter? I think they’re good for babies.”

That, obviously, changes everything for Anakin who straightens instantly. “Bananas are good for babies,” he declares, nodding his head before narrowing his eyes. “Would you...can I lock the door? I won’t be long. Just for safety.”

Obi-Wan blinks and purses his lips to stop his little smile. His alpha can be so silly. Safety. In the middle of the afternoon in rural Pennsylvania. “Okay, alpha,” he agrees before he even realizes that he really shouldn’t be calling Anakin alpha. Especially not when the other man always reacts so strongly to it.

Case in point, he thinks to himself sadly as Anakin’s hand spasms on the car door handle before he slams it and hustles away, almost at a run.

With a long sigh, he flops back down into his nest and squirms until he gets comfortable. There’s a pillow close to his hand that he hugs to his chest when he realizes it’s Anakin’s pillow from his bed at home. It smells amazing, a mix of both of them together.

Ever since he’d told the alpha he was pregnant, Obi-Wan’s fallen asleep in Anakin’s bed more often than not. It’s a comfort thing, one that Obi-Wan feels intensely guilty about. Surely if he keeps being so clingy and whiny and Omegan, Anakin will get sick of him.

And this is just the beginning of the pregnancy. He knows rationally that Anakin loves him as a friend, a brother, but how long is that love going to last if Obi-Wan can’t get a handle on his goddamn hormones? Anakin hadn’t signed up for any of this. It’s not even his pup. How much is Obi-Wan willing to put him through just because he can’t imagine a life without the alpha in it?

Wouldn’t it be the best thing for the both of them to cut their losses now? Bail and Breha had told Obi-Wan he could move in with them for the duration of the pregnancy if he needed to. The only thing that stopped him from saying yes immediately had been the hope that Anakin would be willing to stay with him, keep living with him even after he’d fucked up so much.

And the alpha, by some miracle, hadn’t left, hadn’t moved out. But Obi-Wan can’t shake the thought that he will soon, that this will all get to be too much. Obi-Wan’s omega whimpers at the back of his mind at the idea that one day the alpha will be gone.

The scent of distressed omega fills the car as Obi-Wan feels his bottom lip start to wobble.

Alright, the influx of hormones that are wreaking havoc on his emotions is probably the pregnancy symptom he hates the most. But morning sickness is still up there, too.

He sniffs into Anakin’s college sweatshirt and tries to think happy thoughts. He shouldn’t make Anakin worry about his emotions when he’s already spending so much time worried about his physical health.

How much is Obi-Wan going to take advantage of Anakin’s kindness?

The doors unlock with a beep, signaling his alpha’s return to the car.

It doesn’t take Anakin even a second to catch onto Obi-Wan’s recent spiral of emotion, but at least he won’t know why unless Obi-Wan tells him.

“Obi?” he asks frantically, as soon as he opens the car door. “Obi, are you alright? Did something happen? Did someone see you--?”

“Put the coffee down before you spill it,” Obi-Wan instructs after peeking out of his sweatshirt haven. “I’m alright, Anakin. It’s just the hormones. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Anakin shakes his head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

The statement pulls a wry smile from Obi-Wan. “Oh, I can think of a few things,” he murmurs, touching his belly with a pointed, gentle hand. Before Anakin can say anything about that, he continues quickly. “I was just wondering about something, I’m fine, really. Really.”

And then, knowing he shouldn’t but also knowing it’ll distract Anakin enough from this line of questioning, he tilts his head back to expose his neck and says, “Can we drive, alpha?”

The coffee cup still clutched in Anakin’s hands bursts open under the force of his grip. He really should have put it down.

Anakin curses up a storm as he shakes the hot liquid off of his skin, and Obi-Wan sits up worriedly. Anakin was bothered so much by Obi-Wan calling him that that he accidentally hurt himself. No more, the omega resolves. He can take a hint.

“Are you alright?” he asks, grabbing at Anakin’s hand to examine the red skin.

“I’m fine!” Anakin yelps, jumping away. “I just--I’m just going to go wash this off. Um. And get more coffee.”

He slams the door shut, and Obi-Wan wilts as he watches him go. He can’t even follow after him because Anakin’s locked the doors with his car key. He’s done enough already.

“Oh baby,” he tells his stomach. “I don’t think I’m ever going to have that alpha figured out.”

The baby is still and, of course, silent, but Obi-Wan takes comfort in their presence anyway. They can’t leave him. Not yet, at least.

Gingerly, he maneuvers his way out of his nest so he can reach his messenger bag he’d left in the foot of his passenger seat. It takes some finangling, but finally he’s able to fish out his headphones. As he resettles into his nest, surrounded on all sides by Anakin’s scent, he notices the bunch of bananas thrown in the driver’s seat.

Obi-Wan snorts at his silly alpha, but can’t deny that he’s touched at the same time.

It’s extremely easy to find the track he wants to listen to, what with how often he listens to it these days. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that can get him to fall asleep.

He pulls up the downloaded homemade album Anakin had given him for Christmas four years back. When he presses play, his alpha’s deep melodic voice spills into his ears.

“Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote, the droghte of March hath perced to the roote…”

Of course he can’t be sure, but he’s fairly certain he’s asleep by the time Anakin comes back to the car.

#asks #squick tag: a/b/o #squick tag: mpreg #prompt fill #roadtrip au #oh?? its somehow MORE angsty now that obi-wan's POV is being explored???#is ANYONE surprised??? lmao #(no)#also yes at the end obi-wan is listening to anakin recite the general prologue of the canterbury tales with the original english #that anakin learned how to pronounce correctly so he could make obi-wan the best christmas present ever #was it going to be a love confession too but he chickened out at the last second??? yah #will anakin get jealous obi-wan's always lsitening to something on his phone and demand to know what it is??? yah #poor dumb men

62 notes · View notes

thiserichann · 4 years

Text

cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

He opened the chat and started typing right away.

LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

"Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

#nct #nct dream #nct u #nct x reader #nct smut #nct jeno #nct hard hours #jeno #jeno scenarios #jeno au #jeno smut #lee jeno #jeno imagines #jeno x reader

362 notes · View notes

wyn-n-tonic · 3 years

Text

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IX

Word Count: 3,087 Warnings: PTSD. Children. Fluff. Angst. Emotions. Dialogue heavy bullshit. Author's Note: Welp... this is it, y'all. I posted the first chapter of this on March 4, 2021, and it's coming to a close today on April 5, 2021, and I'm... a goddamn mess. I'm not ready to let these characters go, both the TF boys and my own character in Leah. I really appreciate all your kindness and encouragement throughout writing this, my whole heart belongs to you. Thank you, I hope you love this as much as I love you.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Her room is painted like a sunrise. He remembers the first time he went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the beginning.

Leah’s hands climb his back, a kiss pressed to the hot skin between his shoulder blades as he dips to pluck his peaceful little girl out of slumber.

“Baby, let her sleep.”

But he’s shaking his head, careful with hers in his hand, “she can sleep later, I need her with me now.”

“Hmm,” she hums, turning him to guide him back to their bedroom, “keep that enthusiasm.”

Their shuffle is quiet, Luna’s big eyes slipping back to sleep nestled into her fathers shoulder.

He’s been home for over half a year and as he crawls back into bed, baby and wife clinging to him, part of him still can’t believe it. That after everything he told her, she let him stay. That, like tonight, she’s soothed the new nightmares like the old. That he celebrated Christmas with them, Luna’s first.

That he watched her lift herself up and take her first steps. That after all he had done, those first steps were towards him.

That he helped blow out the candles that he helped light, on the cake he helped make for the little girl who has her daddy’s eyes. His dimple. His smile.

One hand splayed across each of their backs, he’s talking to Leah but directing it at Luna when her bright brown eyes open again to find his.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, Leah’s soft hand falling on his under her small back, “I’m sorry that mama and papa woke you up.”

She reaches a tiny hand up to his face and he melts into the small touch of her, his heart swelling at the unbelievable luck he has in chances granted again and again when a little, “papa,” tumbles forward in the softly lit room.

He feels Leah jump and his eyes snap to hers before they both fall back to Luna, just over one year.

“She just sa—“

“Say it again, baby,” Leah coos, tears spilling over Frankie’s eyes.

She doesn’t understand but as she grabs for him, the small voice repeats, “papa,” and he didn’t know his heart could feel so full despite all the compounding moments of fullness she’s brought to him. That they both have.

He bites his lip while looking into Leah’s glassy eyes and knows that her heart is just as swollen in this moment and all the others.

“The next one’s first word will be mama,” his hand finds the small swell of her lower belly, “I promise.” —————

She presses a coffee cup into his hand before taking a seat across from him on the living room floor, baby toys and blankets strewn across the space between them.

“What happened?”

He takes a deep breath, finding the words he spoke out loud to his team in Lorea’s mansion, “A serious fuck up.”

“I figured that much, Francisco, but what happened?”

So he tells her and she lets him.

He tells her about the seventeen grand of Santi’s own money. How he promised himself no live fire and let himself and his desperation to give her and Luna and himself the best lead him into shattering his soul again. Ripping it up as life drained from the eyes of his fellow human beings and how he didn’t even have the protection of a flag on his shoulder to ease a semblance of that pain. How even if they were bad guys, they weren’t his bad guys to worry about.

He tells her about the helicopter crash, the result of his own greed for the money and for a lack of conflict led to more loss and conflict. How he doesn’t know if he’s the one who fired first on that village but he knows he fired, an automatic weapon slung across his shoulders as easily as the diaper bag he carries through the grocery store for her.

He tells her about the crumbling mountainside, how all he saw at the bottom looking down was himself never coming home to his girls. How that’s when something within him finally snapped, when he and Will silently decided to take the reigns from Tom and Santi’s hands.

He tells her about the fire, burning hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep warm in the freezing air that wrapped around the Andes. About the gunfire that followed them through the rocks in the morning sun.

About standing over Tom’s dead body, the relief and guilt crashing inside him like a warm front meeting a cold one. How he thinks he’ll feel those both every day that he wakes because, unlike the survivor’s guilt easing through you on active duty at the knowledge that this just happens sometimes, this time was different.

He tells her that, after all of that, he threw millions of dollars down a snowy ravine in the middle of Peru where no one would ever see it again, not even his girls who needed it so much because he realized it wouldn’t be fucking worth it for them to have it if it meant not coming home.

He tells her how he almost shot that kid in the jungle. How he would’ve shot every kid standing between him and the boat to get home to his own.

He tells her that he thinks, at the end of it all, Santiago and his plan ended up doing more damage to that country than not.

She listens intently, focused wholly on him. Her face never breaks but he can see the cogs turning behind her eyes, trying to take it all in. Trying to understand.

“I understand if you want me to leave, if you never want to see me again,” he reaches out for her hand, a shiver of shock running through his spine when she doesn’t pull away from him.

Blinking as the words catch up with her, her head shakes, “I just got you back, Francisco, you promised me you wouldn’t leave again so why the fuck do you think I want you to go now?”

“Because what I did is unforgiv—“

“It’s not, there are terrible men in this world who do worse everyday,” he sees the slight sheen of tears coat her lashes, “and you helped stop one of them.”

“There will be others to take his place,” he says around a sip of his drink, his coffee gone cold in the spaces between all his words.

Her hand gives a squeeze to the one it holds, “there will always be others to take his place.”

His breathing evens out, anchored in his chest by a warmth he doesn’t deserve, “there's something else you need to know.”

He tells her about the five million dollars they were able to make it to the boat with, “we signed it all over to Molly and the girls. Will and Benny and I, we decided to do so while Santi was sleeping. We figured, ya know, at least we were coming home. It wasn’t really money we were losing since it was never ours to begin with, Tom’s family lost everything and they didn’t even know it.”

The tears do come now, streams running down his face, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how close you came to losing everything and not even knowing it too.”

His stunted words around the hiccups in his throat draw Luna’s attention, her babbles reaching out to him the way she tried to soothe Leah’s over the weeks prior. Their attention is on her now, eyes wide as she lifts herself with the couch for leverage.

She toddles one step towards his still shaking body before tumbling forward, his hands dropping the now empty coffee cup and Leah’s hand to catch her.

He pulls her small body close, hiding his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of baby lotion. As she giggles in his ear, he looks up to Leah’s soft face, “the boys and I still took three hundred thousand.” —————

“You're fucking insane,” Deana doesn’t quite whisper into Leah’s ear, “a whole ass baby with another one barely even a year old, have you heard of a condom?”

“How many mimosas did you have already, D?”

Kristyn struggles with her key in the door, a large bag in hand, “judging by the slight slur, I’m going with about three so far.”

“Fuck off, K,” she points, turning back to Leah, “I'm just saying that if that big goofy idiot husband of yours goes on another of his boy’s trips, I will kill him this time.”

Her fingers are still quoting around the air as the threat falls around them, Frankie’s attention at the other end of the room grabbed away from the pureed carrots of Luna’s lunch.

“Well,” Kristyn interjects, holding the bag forward, “that’s why I come bearing the gift of one Benjamin Miller, he couldn’t be here because of a boy’s trip.”

“What do you mean?”

Leah looks back at Frankie, his eyes now turned to the conversation. She sees the pain and confusion there, he didn’t know.

Kristyn follows Leah’s gaze before looking back at the older sister in front of her, “he promised me this was his last one and he’s sorry it had to take place during your baby shower but,“ she holds the bag out again, “he says you’ll like this one.”

“It's not a shower,” Leah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kristyn interjects, “a sprinkle. Whatever.”

“It’s not even that since, ya know,” she looks down at the tiny bundle in her arms, “he's already here.”

“A birthday present then,” she beams, “Benny says he’ll set it up when he gets home.”

Frankie’s laughter finds them now, choking around the baby food he’s trying to convince his stubborn daughter of—she’s not and she’s learned how to voice that disgust with all thanks given to her Uncle Benny.

“Baby, it’s another military surveillance camera.”

Kristyn laughs, “yeah, our whole house is strung up with them at this point but they come in handy to watch the neighbors since I’m nosy.”

“When did they leave?” His voice is small, a slight worry behind it.

Kristyn lets out a breath, “about four hours ago, he made me promise not to tell you until he was gone.”

He just nods his head, a silent clock beginning to tick in his brain. —————

It’s been two weeks since he heard from Ben or Will.

The boys have been here day in and day out since they came home last year, always were before that and even more so now that all they truly had was each other and the families they were making with and around each other.

Benny ran through Kristyn’s apartment complex screaming her name so loud as he started to bang on her door that he was met with a baseball bat. Now that idiot was going to be his brother because the sight she was met with was one of Benjamin Miller on his knees with a ring in his hands.

They gave them space with the baby’s arrival, small and short visits until Leah felt ready to have them all over again. He spoke to them that morning as he shaved the night’s stubble away, they talked like they were coming by and how they couldn’t get enough of their new nephew. How they were getting him the best present.

Frankie runs his forefinger and thumb along his mustache now, the compromise of facial hair he settled on. He didn’t want his full and sparse beard but he also felt lighter at the way Leah laughed into him with every brush of his lips.

He’s pacing the living room, bouncing the baby as Leah and Luna nap upstairs. There's only silence and the soft gurgling of a newborn when the quiet knock comes.

Already close to the entryway, he closes the distance and whispers a silent prayer to himself. A prayer that this isn’t bad news. That this is Will or Benny, not using their keys out of courtesy to the newness of little life inside his home.

He opens the door and is met with the tired eyes of Santiago Garcia.

“Hey, Frank,” he says. All bravado of his being seeped from him and replaced with, what sounds like, apology.

He adjusts his son in his hold, ushering the shorter man in so the warmth of the house doesn’t keep seeping out, “I thought you were in Australia.”

“Yeah, well,” he turns to face Frankie again as the door closes, “I make some really shit decisions sometimes.”

Frankie scoffs, half a laugh hidden in the sound. He’s not wrong but he’s not exactly right either.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He’s walked through to the kitchen, the shorter man falling in pace beside him, “we’re a dry household right now with the baby and my therapy bu—“

“Nah, Fis-Frank,” he stutters, “just came to talk to you. And Leah. She around?”

“She’s resting but I can pass along a message if I like it.”

Santi reaches into the leather folder he always carries around and produces a booklet, the one from the lawyer in St. John’s.

But different, a different cover and date, a different name stamped across the front.

“The boys sent me to give you this alone, said we needed to talk about a few more things than just this. Said I needed to apologize to you and to your wife, that I owed you that for so much but especially roping you into that shit last year.”

“Water under the bridge,” Frankie replies softly, changing direction to move through to the living room, “I gave up on an apology a long time ago and Leah never expected one, but nobody’s mad at you.”

Frankie carries the bassinet into sight from the kitchen before walking back, “what is this, Pope?”

“It’s your cut, we went back.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re stupid and greedy and we fucked ourselves up getting it in the first place so we figured we’d go back and we figured we fucking owed you.”

Frankie squints at the shorter man, searching his eyes for the hint of a joke he’s not laughing at. There is none. His cold brown stare is dead serious.

“This is my apology to you, Fran—“

“Frankie,” Leah’s voice filters into the room, he can hear her sleepy shuffle as she pads across the carpet now, “did you feed Santiago while I was asleep or should I?”

“I fed him, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.

He looks back at the man who helped shape his life, tears welling in his eyes, and hears Leah talking about ordering Chinese for dinner as she crosses the threshold but he doesn’t hear her. He can’t hear anything over the squeeze around his midsection, Santi’s quiet strength taking all of his air and senses.

He lets go as quickly as he grabbed him, Leah’s presence heavy in the room now and he crosses the room to gather her in his arms, a kiss pressed to each cheek and then her hair. He’s careful not to hug as hard as he had Frankie, conscious of her still healing body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between them, “for everything I’ve done and everything I wasn’t around for.”

She’s trying to catch her breath, trying not to cry herself, “it's oka—“

“I should’ve been here for you guys.”

Her small hand comes up to pat the curls, a little more gray than a year ago, “you are now.”

He pulls away from her, a hitch in his voice as he says, “can I hold him?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “but you gotta wash your face and hands, no tears or snot on my baby.”

He mumbles to himself about how that makes sense as he moves to the sink, fumbling over the soap in the holder as he shakes with nerves.

She makes her way across the kitchen, wrapping her still sleepy being around that of her wide awake husband. The low lying winter sun is filtering through the windows, bathing everything in soft, warm light.

She sees the golden cover of the booklet on the counter and taps it, “what's this?”

Daylight Family Trust is stamped across in big bold words.

“That was the boy’s trip,” he whispers, “that’s our cut.”

He watches her as she slowly reaches for the document, the one that explains how this all works and looks between the men.

“How much?”

Santi rips a paper towel from the roll, “about thirty-five million.”

Frankie holds her as her knees start to give out but she’s still looking at Santi, she’s still looking for the joke he never made.

“Daylight's your call sign, you know,” he says cooly, “all the wives get one too, did he ever tell you?”

She shakes her head, looking at her husband now and thinking of all the times that very word fell from his lips.

“On our last real deployment,” Pope continues, “he was flying as the sun was setting and the sky was pure gold over the desert—“

Frankie’s eyes never leave hers, arms tight around her now.

“—he said it reminded him of the way the gold flakes in your eyes reflect the sunlight back at him, he called you Daylight until he got home and shed the callsigns altogether.”

“Frankie?”

He presses his lips into her forehead, his hand a heavy weight on her lower back that says, I’m right here.

“Your daughter has the same golden flakes in her eyes, like you, Daylight.”

Frankie runs his thumb along the swell of her cheek, "all I wanted to do last year was get home to you both, all I wanted was to make it right and see that reflection of light back at me through you both again.”

He leans down to softly press his lips to hers before nuzzling his nose into her hair, “our son has them too, the same gold in his eyes, it was the first thing I said to Ben when I walked out of the delivery room.”

"It was the first thing they said to me," Santiago says, "when they got off the plane."

“Like me?” Her voice is soft, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to her limbs.

“Mmhmm,” Frankie hums, “like Daylight.”

190 notes · View notes

43sparrows · 4 years

Text

satisfied - {Five x Reader AU}

Read Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3 / Part 3.5 & Part 4

Warning: a rollercoaster from start to end

Word Count: 4,512

Note: Here it is. The final installment. I'm also impressed I've managed to pull off my own little goal which was to make each chapter longer as we go deeper and deeper into this relationship. It was fun to write, and I hope you stick with me for my next series

You've ignored four of his calls.

Well, technically, you've only ignored one, deleting the message from the answering machine after a short but brutal internal war. The other three times he's tried to get in touch with you were on the typical ripped out notes taped to your mirror. Each one was plucked down, scanned for words you didn't really expect to find (sorry, mistake, asshole), and then tossed into the waste bin.

You know that even as fucked up as your last encounter was, he deserves more--an explanation or at least a clean break--but you can't bring yourself to give him either. And you hate that about yourself. You hate it because you know why you can't do it, and the feeling that comes from this fact is worse than any of the ways Five's ever made you feel.

So, you don't call him. Instead, you work to erase the little traces of him you find in your apartment and in your thoughts until at last you're faced with something you can't just stick in the garbage: the man himself.

He's standing at the foot of your bed, hands on his hips and brow knit together. The look stops you dead in your tracks as you enter the room.

"You're avoiding me."

You feel like you're going to throw up. The thought briefly crosses your mind that if you do, you might get out of having this conversation. But instead you take a few more steps into the room and close the door behind you. When you face him again, you find his finger tapping at his waist. Your eyes remain on the finger instead of his face and you stay silent. This isn't an admission of guilt, but he seems to take it as one.

"Why?" he demands.

Objectively, you know the words. You're proficient in more than one language, so frankly you have more than enough words to use. But you can't seem to piece them together quite right, and so, no sound comes out. Instead you turn your gaze to your right and it lands on the candle on your bookshelf. The flame flickers, dancing in a breeze you can't feel yourself. You feel like there's a metaphor somewhere in there.

"Look--"

"Why would you do that to me, Five?" Your voice is soft, but the interruption effectively cuts him off. If you were looking, you'd imagine you'd see his eyes squint at you in frustrated confusion. His mouth would be slightly open, and you'd want to kiss it closed. So you can't face him. Your gaze stays fixated on the candle.

"Do what?"

You wet your lips as if that will help get out what you need to say. It doesn't work, but it does buy you a bit of time and makes the tension in the room that much more palpable. You wonder if that's what's guiding the flame through its movements.

"You brought me to Howl's just to fuck me in front of my ex."

Five's quiet now, and you chance a look at him from the corner of your eye. He doesn't look frustrated, but he does look like he's working a math problem and each time he comes to the end he gets a different solution.

He notices you're looking and tries to catch your eye, so you turn back to watch the candle burn it's way down the wick.

"You said you wanted something to shove in his face."

You don't remember saying that, but it's true. You did want something to shove in his face. But not like this. You shake your head at him. "Not that." Your voice is both airy and tight, and it's not a good sign. "That wasn't anything worth shoving in his face."

"What?" There's heat in Five's voice now, and you can tell that something you've said has pushed a button. "He's working two jobs so he can get married to some boring elementary school teacher, and you're having mindblowing sex with the closest thing this city has to a goddamn superhero. Who came out on top there?"

"You," you say, simply.

"Me?" he repeats, and you finally find the strength to turn and face him. His eyebrows have shot up so high, you're surprised they're not touching his hairline.

"You're the one who got what they wanted out of that show Five. Because he's still happily getting married having been proven right that I'm nothing more than a call girl dumb enough to work for free."

Five narrows his eyes at you, and there's nothing confused about the look. Instead, he looks downright mean. You realize in that look, that he's missed the point completely. He's not listening to you. He's not seeing you. And you're starting to realize that he may not even want to. The realization hurts. It fucking hurts. Like you're being ripped apart from the inside. And the worst part is that you really should have known this.

Before he can get any words out, you beat him to the punch. It's the only way this argument was ever going to end. "I can't do this anymore, Five."

The look shifts into one of incredulousness and then disgust and then stoniness. And then, without a word, he vanishes.

You feel like you've collapsed on the inside.

Apparently, you look like it too.

Your boss had taken one look at you and tried to send you back home. You'd told her that you were fine to work and made it half the day before she insisted you looked truly terrible and needed to go home. And maybe see a doctor.

Judging by the look on your roommate's face, you look even worse now that you've made it home.

"Are you alright?" she asks, peering up at you from the couch.

"Got sent home early," you mumble. It's not exactly an answer to her question, but you hope that it gets you out of having to talk anymore. It's not that you don't love your roommate. But you'd rather crawl in bed and stay there for a month if it meant that you didn't have to socialize with any humans in the meantime.

You successfully shuffle all the way into your room and drop your things next to your desk before the TV shuts off. Your roommate's footsteps echo throughout the apartment, and then there's silence and the feeling of someone hovering in the doorway behind you.

"I'm worried," she says, and you sigh, your shoulders dropping as you turn around.

"I'm fine."

She hums a no and gestures at your room. You've let piles of dirty clothes take over most of the floor. There's about six different cups scattered on different surfaces, all with varying levels of water in them. Only one of the candles is lit. Her eyes find yours again, and you can't help but look away. "You've been locked in here all weekend. And most of last week too. I know he hasn't been by. He hasn't even called. What's up?"

You shrug helplessly, and the same way they do any time you think of Five, your eyes betray you and start to water.

"You don't know?" she presses, and you shake your head, looking off to the side, trying to get yourself under control. She walks into the bedroom then, coming around to sit on the edge of your bed and stare up at you. "Talk to me, Y/N. Seriously, I'm worried about you, and I don't know what to do."

"I--" your voice feels too thick, and you're having a hard time keeping it even as it comes out. "It's over." Your roommate's eyebrows draw down in sympathy as do the corners of her mouth.

"He ended it."

You shake your head and swallow. "I did." The pitch is too high now.

"Why?" your roommate's voice softens in response to yours, and it's then that you break, face crumpling, tears falling, and a broken sob escaping. She doesn't say anything more, instead rising from the bed and wrapping her arms around you from the side, leaning her head against your shoulder.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time to stop crying. Then again, any time spent crying over a boy who you weren't dating and never made any promises in terms of feelings or commitments was embarrassing. But, when you do slow down, you finally find the words to tell her everything. What happened while she was away. Your trip to the bar and what you discovered. Your fight. She listens and doesn't say anything, instead doing the one thing that you need most from her: she doesn't let go.

You look less like shit.

But you still feel awful.

It's been just over a week since your fight with Five, and you feel like you should be over it by now. The disappointment, the embarrassment, the hurt. But you're not. Sure, you don't exactly feel like an open wound anymore. But you feel a bit like someone's just put a single layer of gauze on top, and that's not nearly enough.

So, you decide there's only one course of action that will make you feel better on this Saturday morning: Griddy's Doughnuts.

Just walking into the shop makes you feel lighter. The sweet smell of the different glazes and jellies wafts through the air, and kids are crammed up against the doughnut case and perched on stools with their parents. Walking into the place is like a time warp--it feels exactly the same way it did all those years ago when you were the kid tugging at her mom's hand.

And then you make accidental eye contact, and it all shatters. Because the brown eyes you're staring into belong to none other than Vanya Hargreeves.

You pull over to the side of the line to do the right thing and make brief small talk. If it hadn't been for two occasions where she'd come home sooner than planned, you wouldn't be in this situation. She wouldn't recognize you. But this girl's seen you half naked and spoken to you several times over the phone. She knows more of you than you wish she did. She probably feels the same way. Regardless of the willingness either of you have to engage in this conversation, she's coming over, bag of doughnuts and tray of coffee in hand.

"Y/N, hi," she greets, offering a nervous looking smile.

"Hi," Your own attempt at a smile is disastrous. It's too tight and it doesn't reach your eyes. It hardly even reaches your cheekbones. "Seems like we had the same idea for breakfast."

She nods, looking down at the bag in her hand. "Yeah. We have this family tradition to grab Griddy's whenever one of us--" she stops then, seeming to remember who she's talking to and restarts with a safer question. "How are you?"

Vanya's voice sounds the way Griddy's smells--like nostalgia and comfort and it makes you ache inside. You want to know how her sentence was going to end, but you want out of this conversation more.

"I'm fine," It comes out more of an exhale than a word, and she seems to see right through it.

She nods, her smile taking on a sad quality. "You and Five both then. Guess we did get the same memo about Griddy's."

A silence seeps in between the two of you, and you hate the way this feels--like you're drowning in the middle of a swimming pool and trying not to call attention to it.

"I don't want to pry--" She must see you go rigid because she seems to decide on a different route. "I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry it didn't work out. I know you guys cared a lot about each other."

You don't know how to respond to that. You're not sure if you want to be the fool who fell in love with her friends with benefits or the slut who was just in it for phenomenal sex or the bitch who points out Vanya's brother is a heartless bastard and doesn't deserve doughnuts because he clearly never gave a damn. She must catch the crease between your eyebrows, your lips instinctively puckering into a qualification, because she saves you from responding.

"Look, I know Five can be...a lot. And I don't know what he did, but I can tell it was big and it wasn't good." She looks like she wants to reach out and touch you, but her hands--thankfully--are full. "But you should know, he checks the answering machine every day."

It stings. He still thinks you'll call.

And you almost have.

You can't look at her open and earnest face any longer, so you look down at the ground and nod dumbly. "Thanks." She stays in front of you, and you can feel that she wants to break the silence again. You swallow hard and force yourself to meet her gaze once more. "Well, I don't want your coffees to get cold. It was nice to run into you, though, Vanya."

She nods, her mouth settling into a line. "Take care of yourself, ok?" she asks, and you lift your lips into half a smile because it's just about as much as you can manage. She nods once more and then turns and leaves the doughnut shop. You get in line.

Your roommate decides it's time for you to leave the house.

You point out that you leave the house almost every day.

She argues that leaving for work doesn't count. It's been two weeks and you need to have fun.

You insist that if you're going to have fun, it's not going to be on a Tuesday.

She informs you that there will be dollar tacos where she's going.

That's how you end up at Don Pablo's at eight o'clock on a Tuesday night with your roommate and two other friends all crowded around a table. It's hard to say what it is, the dollar tacos, the strong margaritas, the good company or the Spanish covers of pop songs, but whatever the reason, you're feeling lighter than you have. You're even laughing as your friend, Faith, updates you on the latest antics of the passive aggressive post-it queen at her work.

"That is...one hell of a story," someone to the right of your table says, and the eyes of the group look up to a lanky man with shoulder length brown hair. He's wearing a mesh crop top that sparkles a little under the light and leather pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, a fact that's captured Sam's attention.

The man pushes off from where he's leaning against the coat rack, and it's a testament to Faith's storytelling prowess that not a single one of you noticed him lurking there until this point. He motions for Faith to budge over, and the motion is so familiar and friendly that she scoots without protest.

"So," he says, resting his chin in both of his palms. "Which one of you radiant young ladies is Y/N?"

The words are objectively skeevy, but much like his admittance to the table, this earns nothing but a few snorts and smiles. He's also smiling like he's in on the joke, and it's genuine and sparkling rather than leering. You're half tempted to tell him, but your roommate stops you.

"Why?" Nasreen asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Because she's the one person who will save us from my brother's broody pining," he says with a faux pout.

Nasreen's eyebrows lift even higher. "Isn't it a little middle school of your brother to send you over here for him?"

He chuckles and lifts his head, shaking a finger at your roommate. She grins back at him. "Yes, it would be, but he very expressly told me not to come over here. I'm here looking for Y/N of my own free will." He glances around the table and steals a chip out of your basket, dipping it into the salsa. "Technically," he says, crunching down on the chip. "I'm risking my life for this."

Sam laughs and the man grins, reaching for another chip. "It's true. He said, and this is a direct quote, 'Klaus, if you go over there, I will drive this tiny umbrella through your eyeball until it hits that thing you call a brain and puts us all out of our misery.'" He pops the chip into his mouth and gives a dramatic eye roll. "Very eloquent, my brother."

Your friends laugh at this, even Nasreen, but you grow cold. Because you know one person with a brother named Klaus.

"So," Klaus bounces his shoulders once, sitting up straighter. "Who am I sacrificing myself for?" He looks around the table pleasantly just as Sam glances at you. It's a small motion, but Klaus latches onto it. "Ah," Klaus says gesturing toward you. "I'm going to need you to come fuck my brother."

Faith spits out her margarita. Sam barks out a sudden laugh. Nasreen blinks and draws back into the booth.

"I know he's an emotionally stunted little asshole, but he's been even more insufferable than usual, and Vanya says it's because of you." He drops his hand onto the table, relaxing back into the booth. "Obviously, he's the one at fault--you seem like an angel. But it would mean the world if you would come fix our little shitheel."

It's the name Vanya that brings Nasreen up to speed.

"I'm vetoing this right now," your roommate says, shaking her head. Klaus presses his hands together and points them at her.

"Your objection has been heard and noted, but let's hear from Y/N."

All of the eyes on the table are on you, and dollar tacos isn't enough to redeem this moment. You shake your head slowly. "No."

"No," Klaus repeats. He seems surprised.

"No, I'm tired of being fucked over so Five can feel better. No." Your roommate's approval radiates over you, strengthening the feeling. Faith and Sam straighten up at the mention of Five.

Klaus heaves a sigh and leans back to rest his head on the top of the booth's cushion. "I don't blame you, but I don't want to go back over there," he says to the ceiling. "Not only is he going to publicly murder me, but he'll probably drive me up this stucco painted wall with his moodiness before he does it." He lolls his head to turn to Faith. "Can I stay here with you?"

Faith laughs a little, looking at the rest of you.

"Depends," your roommate says, leaning on the table.

"On?" Klaus raises an eyebrow.

"If the next round is on you."

When you stumble into your apartment, it's a little past 1 am, and you're not so much as drunk as you are high on a good time. Allowing Klaus to stay at your table had been the best decision you'd made in the past...month? Maybe longer. Not only had he supplied you with enough good stories to take your mind far away from Five (whose gaze you could feel once you knew it was there) but Klaus had also pulled each of you up to salsa with him despite the fact that it wasn't a dance bar at all. Still, several other couples from different tables had followed his lead, and you'd allowed yourself to be spun and turned about until your legs were ready to collapse.

It's hard to imagine that anything can bring yourself down from this feeling as you place a kiss on your roommate's cheek and thank her for dragging you out.

Then again, you hardly imagined Five would be popping into your bedroom at 1:30 in the morning.

His hair is wild, eyes are hazy, and he looks more disheveled than you've ever seen him. "You were there. You were there and Klaus came over, and what the fuck?"

You've never heard so many nonsensical words come out of his mouth.

"Are you...drunk?" you ask, dumping your clothes at the door to your closet.

"Figured that one out," he says, gesturing flailingly at you. "I got drunk because that's what you do when the one person in this world who doesn't make your life worse won't even look across a bar at you." He says.

You, for your part, remain silent, head tilted, trying to make sense of what's going on--how much of this is him and how much of it is the alcohol. Because you can't believe he's this upset--Five doesn't seem to do emotions other than stressed, horny, and smug.

He sways a bit. "You were right there. Right there. And you didn't even look at me. Not even when fuckin' Klaus went over."

"I didn't realize you cared that much," you say quietly.

Five scoffs. "Why else would I spend five days hunting down your ex just so you could get your closure."

You blink several times at this fact, but you don't have time to formulate some sort of response before he continues. "Do you know how many Jordan Millers there are in this city?"

"You--what?" The words come out as hardly more than a disbelieving whisper.

"Five days and perfect planning to get you there and have it all work out at just the right moment, only for you to end it. No reason. You just ended it."

You swallow hard and then fix him with a stare. Because he's right--he should at least have a reason. "I didn't end it because of Howl's." You pause, and he takes it as the end of the sentence because he continues on.

"I don't even know what happened. I keep trying to work it out. It's all I can fucking think about, and I can't figure it out. You wanted just sex, so I gave you just sex. You wanted to show up your ex, so I made sure you could show up your ex." His voice takes on a hysterical quality as he starts to pace the room. "What am I missing? Please, enlighten me. Because Vanya and Allison are up my ass about trying to fix things with you, and hell if I know where to begin."

"You can't fix this," you shake your head and then wet your lips, steeling yourself up for the most embarrassing truth. "I ended it because I wanted more, and you didn't."

He pauses and then lets out a manic laugh. "So you left because you wanted to be with me?"

"I left because I thought it was just sex to you, and that's all it would ever be."

"That's all it was supposed to be," he says, not stopping his pacing. "That's what we both wanted."

"Wanted," you repeat, quietly. "Wants change."

He lets out a manic laugh. "Oh, I know that," he says and stalks closer to you. "Why else would I be here right now, still trying to figure out what you want so I can give it to you instead of fucking any of the girls who came up to me tonight?"

You blink a few times, and this has to be an exhaustion induced delusion, because there's no way he's saying what you think he's saying.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, quietly. He doesn't answer, instead closing the remainder of the distance, pulling your body flush against yours and kissing you.

He tastes like margaritas. His kiss is as intoxicating as the alcohol itself, the sensation rushing through your body and urging you to relax into him. He's only kissed you four times before, and all of those were different. In those kisses his hands ran over your body, pushing at your clothes, his frame walking you back towards the bed. But now he's solid, and his hands are still, a vice keeping you close to him as his lips remain on yours.

It takes an extraordinary strength of will to extract yourself from his kiss. "Don't do this," you whisper, your lips brushing his since he's chased after your kiss.

"Why?" he pulls you even closer, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"Because you don't mean this," you say, bringing your hands in between your bodies to push him away. "You're drunk and you're lonely and…"

"And I want you," he says, not moving, ducking his head to kiss you again.

"No you don't."

The words make him step back angrily. "I don't know how to make it any fucking clearer," he says, raking a hand through his hair. "I want you. I want you Y/N. I wish I didn't. I wish things would go back to being just sex. Because my life was so much easier then. But they can't. Not for you and not for me. You want more. I want you. So why won't you just accept that and let me kiss you?"

As far as romantic speeches go, it's pretty shitty.

"Fine," you say.

It's an equally shitty romantic response.

But then he's kissing you again, and you let yourself lean into the hope that maybe, come morning, he'll still mean what he said.

When you wake up, Five's gone.

The other side of the bed is tucked in tightly, like he was never even there. But you know he was. Because if he wasn't, there's no reason for your whole body to ache inside and out. It's tempting to stay in bed and throw yourself a mix of pity party and roast. After all, last night you exhibited top tier dumbassery.

But you're tired of feeling like shit. So you drag yourself out from under the covers and towards your door, hoping that some coffee and a warm breakfast will help you to feel better.

You pad out the door and down the short hallway to come out to the kitchen where your roommate is pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“My head hurts like a sonofabitch,” she says, reaching into the cabinet to grab down a mug for you. “You?”

You give a rueful smile and head over to stand next to her by the coffeepot. “Surprisingly, I’m ok. Better than yesterday.”

“Good,” she says, filling your mug up.

Your toilet flushes, and both you and your roommate look at each other. The silent question is answered not long after as there, appearing in the doorway, still wearing yesterday’s clothes and looking a bit disheveled, is Five.

It’s the first time your roommate has ever seen him.

“Uh…hello?” your roommate says, and Five nods at her, moving forward to steal your mug of coffee. He lifts it to his lips and takes a long sip.

“You’re…here,” you say dumbly, and he nods, drinking some more coffee.

“It’s where I want to be.”

Your roommate looks between the two of you. “And you are…”

“Five,” he says over his coffee, and your roommate looks between the two of you wildly before finally settling you with a significant look.

“You’re going to have to make more coffee, and explain all of this to me,” she says, circling a finger at Five.

You look at him, a small twist of a smile on your lips. “Fine with me.”

#five hargreeves x reader #number 5 x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves #number five #number 5 #five hargreeves smut #number 5 smut #number fie smut #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number five imagine #tua fic #number five fic #five hargreeves fic #tua

899 notes · View notes

dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years

Text

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 3 of 27: Honesty

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 2

A/N: I’ve come to the realization that I’ve changed so much in this story during the past few days and added some chapters that it can probably already count as a slow-burn fic. I guess. Not sure. Have fun! Thanks for the lovely feedback! I love you all to death <3

Words: 3583 Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!Reader, post-war Warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing

It was weird being back at Hogwarts. Something about it still didn’t feel right. After the war, it was unimaginable for you to come back here and finish school. But they took their time and closed it off for over a year. The school got rebuilt, the victims buried, the survivors tried to heal and move on. On the first anniversary of the end of the war, McGonagall – the new headmistress of Hogwarts – publicly announced that the school would open for the coming year and the seventh graders were given the chance to repeat their year.

You were excited about coming back and seeing your friends again, gaining a little bit of normalcy. School, homework, petty drama – you wanted nothing more than to be busy with all of those things. Yet something felt different when you stood in the Great Hall for the first time after your arrival. Something had changed. You had changed.

“You’re daydreaming again, Y/N.”

Ginny’s voice pulled you back into reality. Your best friend sat across from you with her eyebrows raised, chewing on a croissant.

“Tired,” you replied and smiled briefly.

“From what?”, she asked. “You left super early last night!”

“Yeah, because it was super boring.”

The redhead shook her head. “It was not! There was a fight between two Hufflepuffs and that’s the best indicator for a fun party.”

You chuckled. “Is it though?!”

“Or,” suddenly she put down her croissant. A devious smile appeared on her face and she began talking with a lowered voice: “Did you leave the party early with your date to –”

“I beg you to not finish that sentence, please!”

Ginny laughed. “Oh come on! McLaggen is kinda cute!”

“He’s awful.”

“He doesn’t need a good character to –”

“Ginny!” You playfully threw an apple at her. She caught it, laughing. “You’re the worst,” you said and shook your head.

Just when you wanted to change the topic, someone else started walked in. You stopped midsentence, staring at the couple who were coming down the hall, holding hands.

Ginny saw them too and she knew what you were about to do next. “Don’t, Y/N,” she said softly. “Stay here. At some point, you’ll have to face them. They’re our friends. He’s my brother. We have classes together now.”

You knew she was right. Yet, running away still seemed like a better option to you. Ginny sensed that, reached over the table and squeezed your hand. “Stay,” she repeated.

Ron and Hermione sat down right beside you, cheerfully wishing you a good morning. You didn’t reply but smiled at Harry instead who sat down next to Ginny and gave her a kiss. They were a cute couple and you were happy for the both of them. They finally found each other.

The four began to talk right away. It was still exciting to be in the same year as them, to finally share classes and spend so much time together. Well, not for you to be honest. You could happily live without seeing Ron every day.

You tuned out their conversation after a while, still debating whether or not you should leave the table. Your eyes drifted over the other students in the Great Hall and got stuck at the Slytherins. Not many people sat there as most of them had already finished breakfast. Before you knew what you were doing, you noticed he wasn’t here.

You felt a little sting of disappointment and frowned. Where did this came from? As if you cared about seeing Malfoy.

Saying that you didn’t replay that kiss in your mind over and over again would have been a lie. When you left the small room last night, you felt dizzy and confused. Yet you repeatedly told yourself that the kiss meant nothing. It happened so you didn’t get caught. Good god, it was Draco Malfoy, probably the last person in this school you wanted to kiss (well, besides McLaggen). So no. This kiss didn’t mean anything.

“Y/N?”, you turned your head when Hermione said your name.

“Why are you staring at the Slytherins?”, she asked.

You shrugged but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “No reason. I was thinking.”

She frowned. Ginny and Harry looked at each other in confusion.

“So? What is it?”, you asked.

“Right, um, we wanted to ask if you’d like to come play Quidditch with us?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you play Quidditch?”

“Ron taught me over the summer,” she smiled at her boyfriend. “Besides, they have to try out for the team in two weeks anyways so why not practice a little.”

You looked at Ron who stared at his plate. He probably felt as comfortable with the thought of you playing together as you did. The way he avoided your eyes made you angry though.

“No, sorry”, you quickly said and suddenly stood up. “Homework.” This was it. You had to leave.

***

You gritted your teeth angrily as you made your way up the stairs. God, you still hated him for how he treated you three months ago. You were supposed to be friends and he fucked it all up. Now you could barely stand the sight of him and every encounter left you feeling like you needed to punch a brick wall.

Being so lost in your thoughts, you almost ran around the corner, crashing into someone.

“Watch it, Y/L/N!”

Great.

“Watch it yourself, Malfoy!”, you snapped.

Draco Malfoy stood in front of you, one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other gripping your arm to prevent you from falling down. It must have been out of instinct because as soon as he realized he was touching you, he let go as if you were a hot plate.

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he stated dryly.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, lowering the tone of your voice a little. “And let me through.”

He did neither. “Did McLaggen find you after all?!”

“None of your business, Malfoy!” With that, you pushed him aside and continued walking down the corridor. You were too mad for Malfoys bullshit.

“Y/L/N!” Apparently he was particular talkative this morning.

You ignored him.

“I couldn’t care less for your obvious boy troubles –”

Who did he think he was?!

“– however, I still have something that belongs to you.”

This made you stop dead in your tracks and turn around. “What?”, you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

He smirked. “Your shoe.”

Oh. Oops.

Annoyed, you shrugged. “So give it back to me.”

“It’s in the Slytherin common room.”

“I’d rather die than go down there.”

“I’d change the attitude if I were you. After all, you want something from me,” his voice grew colder.

You were unimpressed by that. “Make me,” you shot back.

There it was again – that look on his face. The same look he had yesterday as he gazed over your body in the small room. It made you shiver – and for a second you weren’t sure if it was the good or the bad kind of shiver.

Then he smirked again: “Quidditch field. Tonight after dinner.” And while he already started walking backwards he added: “I’d rather die than be caught talking to a Gryffindor.”

Goddamn Slytherins.

***

It was unusually cold for a September night. You shivered and zipped up your jacket, regretting that you didn’t bring a scarf. No student or teacher seemed to be outside at this time, only the occasional crow flying above your head and the rustling of leaves accompanied you on your way to the Quidditch field.

The reason why Malfoy chose the Quidditch field of all places to give you back your shoe was beyond your knowledge. Yet you didn’t complain. In about half an hour, your friends would join you. Before the war, this was one of your favourite spots to just hang out and talk.

When you arrived on the field, it took you a while to spot Malfoy. He sat way up on the bleachers. You groaned and made your way up the stairs. Malfoy didn’t notice that you came as he was busy writing something in a small green notebook. Huh. Interesting.

He flinched when you sat down beside him and quickly closed the book.

“What are you writing?”, you asked curiously.

Malfoy pretended not to hear your question and instead reached inside his bag. “Here,” he pulled out your shoe, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you put in the small bag you brought. “So what are you writing?”

He looked at you with an annoyed expression. “You have what you want so you can go.”

“You’re no fun, Malfoy.”

“Says the Gryffindor.”

“Excuse me?”, you raised an eyebrow. “We’re more fun than all the Slytherins combined.”

“Right,” he scoffed.

Still, you didn’t move or leave so with a sigh, he added: “Do you have no friends to bother?”

You grinned. “I do. In fact, they’ll be here in –”, you took a look at your watch, “– twenty minutes.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Perfect.”

“Why did you tell me to meet you here?”

“I was gonna be here anyways,” he shrugged. “Easier to make you come to me.”

You ignored his sly remark. “You were going to be here anyways? Alone?”

Another shrug.

Leaning back, you watched Malfoy from the side. He had dark circles under his eyes and kept his gaze focused on the field, his fingers playing with the sides of the notebook. Something (beside you sitting next to him) bothered him.

“So what was up with you this morning?”, he broke the silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “As if you care.”

“No,” he admitted. “But you’re obviously not leaving until your friends come and that question might make you stop staring at me.”

You chuckled softly. Then you realized that he was actually waiting for an answer. “Nothing important.”

“I figured.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Probably,” Malfoy stated without any emotion in his voice.

You were silent for a few seconds. Part of you wanted to get up and leave. After all, Malfoy was probably the last one you could trust. He didn’t care and it was literally none of his business. You didn’t even like each other. Keeping it simple and vague was probably the best approach: “Dumb stuff, really. Like you said – boy troubles.”

Malfoy shifted without noticing it, turning his body more towards you, leaning in a little. “Well, now I’m curious. Who managed to make Y/L/N this mad and can he teach me?”

“I don’t know if you’re keen on Ron being your teacher,” the sentence just slipped out. You regretted it right away.

Malfoys eyes widened. “No fucking way.” Then he began to smirk – that evil, ‘I’m-better-than-you’-smirk he had perfected over the years.

Your face felt like it was on fire and you were glad it was getting dark already. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the blush. “Oh, be quiet!”

“Weasley?”, he scoffed, not believing it. He stared at you with quite the interest now. There seemed to be a lot more to you than he would have guessed. “How the fuck did that happen? Isn’t he dating the … isn’t he dating Granger?”

You knew what he wanted to call her but were surprised that he stopped himself. That never happened before.

“Yes, he is,” you mumbled and gave him a suggestive look.

This caused Malfoy to laugh. It was a dry, short laugh. He leaned back a little. “You’re kidding, right? Fucking hell, Weasel managed to not only screw you but do so while dating Granger?”

“I like how eloquently you phrased that,” you said sarcastically.

He ignored you. “How did that happen?”

“Okay, first of all”, you began, “… they weren’t dating when it happened. I’m not a homewrecker, that’s probably more of a Slytherin thing.”

“Does she know?”

“Know what?”

“Does Granger know you two f–”

“Geez, Malfoy, watch your language,” you interrupted him quickly, before you added: “And no.”

“So cheating isn’t a Gryffindor thing but lying is?”, Malfoy concluded, smirking again. “Good to know.”

“Oh, shut up,” you raised your chin. You were right about this in the beginning – you shouldn’t have told him anything. How were you supposed to get this right? Even though there was no reason for you to explain yourself to him, you still felt the need to: “They were going through a crisis and broke up and well … I spent a few weeks with their family and I always considered Ron a good friend but … but something happened. And then he ended things with me and got back together with Granger. Well, he got back together with her first and announced it in front of everyone, including me.”

“That’s how he told you that you two were over?”

You nodded. “Yup.”

“Phew,” Malfoy let out a whistle. “Wow. I must admit, I’m impressed.”

“Sure you are.”

Suddenly Malfoys facial expression changed from amusement to confusion. “So what’s the big deal now? You two screwed a few times and now he’s playing house with Granger again.”

You sent him another suggestive glance which caused him to let out another laugh.

“Please don’t tell me you got feelings for the Weasel,” he said in complete disbelief. Then his eyes suddenly began to wander further down and you realized he was looking at your … body. Rude. Before you got the chance to put him in his place, he simply said: “You can do a lot better, y’know.”

Oh. This was unexpected. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks again and felt actually a little flattered by his words. Yet, they confused you. Why would he give a Gryffindor a compliment?! Was there a hidden insult in it? Maybe a slight undertone you didn’t notice?

“It goes without saying that this conversation stays between us,” you cleared your throat. “No one knows about this whole mess except Ginny. And you.”

Malfoy nodded. “You put an awful lot of trust in me.”

“Don’t disappoint me then.”

The two of you were quiet for a few moments. It was almost completely dark by now and a nervous glance to your watch made you aware that Ginny and the rest of her friends might appear any second now. The silence grew uncomfortable after a while.

“What’s up with that whole engagement thing, you mentioned yesterday?”, you wanted to know, remembering that weird comment of him. “And don’t act all mysterious again. I told you my mess now you have to share yours.”

Malfoy snorted. “Ask away.”

This was easier than expected. “Are you dating the little Greengrass?” Totally understandable if he was – Astoria was the perfect mixture of smart and drop dead gorgeous. A lot of guys were into her.

“No.”

“She called you ‘honey’.”

“Yes.”

You frowned. “I’m confused.”

“Do I really have to explain to you how pureblood marriages work?”, Malfoy said with a mocking undertone.

“Of course not. I just thought we left that behind us when the war ended”, you remarked.

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “As if hundreds of years of tradition can be forgotten with one war.”

“So you’re forced to marry her?”, you tried to understand the situation better.

“No, it’s an arranged marriage which is not even official yet,” Malfoy shifted slightly. “Mother would like it because the Greengrass family is still respected and …”

“… rich.”

He glanced at you quickly. “We lost a lot.”

“I bet,” you scoffed.

Abruptly, Malfoy got up and grabbed his bag. “I should leave.”

Out of instinct, you extended your hand to reach for him but stopped just inches in front of his arm. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that”, you apologized. Feelings of guilt and pity appeared inside of you as you didn’t expect him to be so openly hurt by what you said. “I heard … well, everyone heard about the trials and your parents and all that. Sorry.”

Malfoy hesitated but then sat down again. His whole demeanour had changed in just seconds. He had almost been … approachable but now the look in his eyes was as cold as ice again.

You cleared your throat. “Do you want to marry her?”

He didn’t answer right away. You wondered what went through his head in this moment.

“I don’t ask myself that.”

The answer didn’t surprise you. “Why not?”, you tried to dig deeper.

Again, a few seconds passed before he mumbled: “No, I don’t want to marry her. I hardly know her.”

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Does she want to marry you?”

“I don’t know”, he gave a half shrug. “She had a thing with Zabini over the summer so I guess … I’m probably not her first choice.”

The answer to all of his problems seemed so easy, you thought. Yet it would be met with much apprehension. Traditional pureblood families like his were difficult when it came to this stuff.

Knowing what his reaction would be, you still had to say it: “So don’t get engaged.” Before he could reply, you raised your hand. “Yeah, I know, traditions and all that bullshit. Why don’t you just start breaking traditions?”

Malfoy shook his head. “My family works a little different than yours.

“Not that different to be honest”, you whispered under your breath.

He heard you and you were met with a very confused look. When you didn’t elaborate, he continued talking: “Anyways, I can’t. I could try to postpone but I’d need a very convincing reason.”

“Like?”

“Another girl from a good family.”

“And?”

“And what?”

A grin appeared on your face. “There are at least ten girls I can name right away who’d love to get a shot with you.”

Seriously, even most of the Gryffindor girls your age had been crushing on Malfoy at least once. He was very attractive and clever and that whole ‘bad boy’-act made quite a few girls weak in their knees. You had noticed this too but being so close friends with Ginny and Harry those thoughts never found room to grow inside of you. In your mind, Malfoy had always been an arrogant jerk. Still is, you corrected yourself quietly.

“Have you spoken with them since I became a –”

… a Death Eater, you finished the sentence in your head. Looking at the young man in front of you, wearing his school scarf while sitting in a sports stadium, the whole concept of him being a dangerous criminal just seemed absurd to you.

“Besides it’s a dumb idea”, he continued. “It would be a fake relationship and no one in their right mind would agree to that.” He let out a dry laugh. “Only a Gryffindor can think of something like that.”

In that moment, your eyes met. Never before did you notice the unusual colors in them like you did now. The piercing grey reminded you of storm clouds on an autumns day. Yeah, a fake relationship. Who in their right mind would … Unless …

The sudden thought that appeared in your mind made you flinch. He seemed to be thinking the same when he quickly broke the eye contact, straightening up and staring over at the field.

You got up in a rush, swinging your back over your shoulder. To your big relief, Ginny and your friends had just entered the Quidditch field. Their laughter echoed through the whole area.

„I should go. There’s Ginny.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“Thanks for the shoe.” Could this situation be any more awkward?! You doubted it. Hastily you turned around and almost stumbled over your own feet when you made our way back to the stairs. Something else came suddenly to your mind.

“Oh, and Malfoy?”, you stopped. He didn’t turn to look at you but you knew he heard you by the way he slightly moved his head. “I know a lot of fucked up stuff happened and pureblood families are the worst but … but don’t spend the rest of the year sitting here alone. I bet that there are still quite a few of your Slytherin friends that want to spend time with you.”

There was nothing you expected him to say in response to that so it surprised you when he suddenly said your name. “Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“Get over Weasley. It’s beneath you.”

You were glad he didn’t see the big grin on your face.

***

Ginny was surprised to see you coming down the stairs and running across the field. She wondered what you did up there and frowned when he saw a guy sitting there with the all too familiar white-blond hair.

“Is that Malfoy up there? Were you talking to him?”, she wanted to know when you finally reached the group.

“Oh, um,” you stuttered. “We ran into each other.

Ginny squinted her eyes. “Right”, she doubted. “How did you –”

Bang! You let out a short scream at the sudden noise.

“Sorry!” Someone shouted and a very distressed looking Seamus Finnigan appeared behind dark smoke.

“What the hell did you do?” Ginny squeaked and with that she forgot all about Malfoy.

You looked back up to where he was sitting just a minute ago. He was gone now. A weird feeling was left inside of you after the rather unusual conversation you had with the Slytherin. You shook your head, trying to get rid of it and turned your full attention back to your friends.

***

I hope you like it! I’d love to hear what you thought about it! <3

CHAPTER 4

“Choose Me Instead”-Masterlist HP-Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701, @youareinllve, @sjmahoney, @detroitobsessed, @takura-rin, @jadam268, @wynterwind, @mina672 , @renaissance-confiance, @harpoon999, @doitforthevine67, @rinasrights, @flowerpowerpixie, @gold-flowing, @starkssnarks, @bookcornerkins, @harpersmariano, @markedsweetly, @iraniq, @pointlesscoconut, @hvrcruxes, @pillowjj, @idkatee, @jungjxxhyun, @magicwithaknife, @graystherapy

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! <3

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor reader #draco malfoy #slytherin imagines #slytherin #gryffindor #gryffindor imagines #slytherin fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #ginny weasley

591 notes · View notes

nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 4/8

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

Nanami let out a deep breath, feeling the stiffness on his back. Pulling the almost dried up towel that was draped over his eyes. He doesn’t remember putting it there although he recalled resting on the couch on the study to rest for a bit some time at dawn, thinking he would wake up in time to move to the bedroom. As it turned out, he wasn’t able to manage that anymore and slept on that same spot until morning.

Sitting up, he saw that his files had been tidied up and there was a note on top which said, “You work too much,” in a familiar handwriting. He smiled to himself, realizing who it was from. There was no mistaking that ugly handwriting – one of your supposed flaws yet he found it very endearing that you were highly dexterous in giving life to still scenes but never really gotten around making your writing legible.

How you stumbled upon him in the dead of night when you were supposedly out camping in the woods with your pals was something beyond him, but he was thankful, holding onto the towel that you had left for him a little while longer before he started with his morning routine. He had every plan to stay indoors for the rest of the morning, probably catch up on some sleep, but while he was dressing up, he happened to catch a glimpse of you by the lakeshore, partly concealed by the trees.

Sleep could wait, he thought, hurriedly throwing on a round-neck, navy blue shirt to match his dark sweats and setting out despite his blond locks still damp from the shower. He jogged his way down the hill, looking for the exact spot where he saw you from the manor, finding you by the clearing near the massive oak tree with low-hanging branches that extended over the crystal water of the lake.

There you were, standing in front of a canvass ensconced on an easel. You appeared like a nymph under newly-risen sun with your long, white tresses braided to the side and hanging over your right shoulder. Breathtaking. There wasn’t another word that would describe how you looked like even with your back to him, dressed in a white, halter, crop top and a long, hippie skirt of the same color that had a slit going up your thigh, exposing the length of your legs.

Nanami had to consciously slow his steps towards you and tell himself to be still when he was near enough, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his pants to stop himself from recklessly reaching out and touching you for fear that the mirage before him will disappear. Except that you were real, existing in the same domain he was in, so near yet also so far.

You acknowledged his presence with a succinct nod, but your focus was on your work. For a while, he just stood behind you, watching the canvass fill with color, reflecting the orange and pink marmalade splashes of light in the morning sky. It was like watching a slow replay of what the heavens had been as the colors dissipated faster in reality while you immortalized it in oil paint, each detail prominent and not a single brush stroke amiss.

You were beautiful and you created beautiful things. And he wanted you. He wanted you so badly, but he didn’t have the heart to wrench you away from what you were doing.

"Why are you up so early?" you asked without turning around to look at him, your hand stopping mid-stroke with your paintbrush suspended from the canvass by a few millimeters. "You should be getting some shut eye after working so late."

God, he loved your voice, the sound cutting through the stillness like windchimes. Nanami distanced himself, satisfying himself with your divided attention and sat on the grass just under the ancient tree, leaning his back on the rough trunk. You were right about that. He was sleep-deprived, but he couldn't seem to rest easy without seeing you first thing in the morning. He closed his eyes, evening his breath out. "Since when were you so strict about sleep schedules?" he teased, knowing how you had such irregular schedules where proper rest was concerned.

"Since I found you still dressed up with your shoes on, sleeping on the goddamn couch at three in the morning," you sallied. “How you have energy to be walking around the grounds at this hour is just plain bizarre.”

He scoffed. “I could say the same for you, sweetheart. I don’t understand how you are up and about, painting no less, when you’ve been prowling around the study at dawn.”

At that, you laughed, leaning close to the canvass as you painted in more details into your picture. “I wasn’t prowling around as you’ve put it. It got all smoky around our campsite when the fire went out so we decided to sleep in the house instead.” You glanced over your shoulder at him. “I just happened to see that the study lights were still on and found you.”

Nanami met your gaze although it was short-lived since you turned back to your work. “Thank you.”

“I should have woken you up. Your back must hurt from sleeping like that.” You placed your brush on the cup hanging on the easel in time to see him eyeing you quizzically about your statement. “You tend to lean in favor of your left shoulder when your back is bothering you.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your response. “I have to give it to you and Satoru. Your observation skills are beyond normal.”

“It’s annoying at best when you’re programmed to see every little thing,” you stated, walking over to the edge of the water to dip a washcloth which you then used to wipe paint off of your hands. “But it also plays to our advantage, I guess. For instance, it’s easy to read through you when I notice everything like that.”

“You mean it’s easier to play your games with me when you observe me like you do?”

“Hey now, I’m being genuinely concerned here for once.” You snickered, tossing the washcloth on the pile underneath your easel before walking up to him and bending down slightly to his seated form. “Go back to the manor and get some sleep.”

Nanami clucked his tongue, inhaling the air slowly, savoring your smell as it entered his lungs, intoxicating him. “I find it hard to go back to bed the moment I’ve decided to leave it. I won’t be able to sleep much anyway.”

You pouted at that. “Then just take a nap if you can’t sleep much.”

He grinned at you then. “I’ll take a nap now if you’ll do it with me.”

“I’m not sleepy, but I’ll stay –”

“Then no.”

You shot him a disparaging look. “Are you being serious right now?”

Nanami had to suppress the laughter bubbling in his throat at the look of disbelief on your face, and before you could recover, he hooked a muscular arm over your waist, pulling you down so that you were seated between his outstretched legs with your back against his chest. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Seeing as you didn’t have any choice about that matter, you adjusted your position, fiddling with your skirt so it was shielding your bare skin from the grass. Nanami reveled at the fact that you did not seem bothered that he had his arm around your torso, the warmth of your skin directly touching his. You even went as far as leaning against him, your form slotting onto his perfectly like a puzzle piece.

He closed his eyes, pulling you closer as he leaned against the tree, letting his senses be filled with everything that was you from the feel of your warmth crashing against him to the smell of your hair and your even breaths, seemingly in sync with his. He knew he could live a life with no regrets if he gets to hold you like that every single day.

Giving in to his exhaustion, he breathed out, letting the gentle wind and the soft sounds of nature lull him to sleep. He didn’t know for how long he stayed that way with you, but it was already bright when he opened his eyes, coming to consciousness when he felt smaller fingers threading between his, followed by the faint sound of a giggle. Another hand reached over, landing on the side of his face. Unconsciously, he leaned against your palm, luxuriating in its supple smoothness against his cheek.

“Awake already?” you asked.

He looked down over your bare shoulder, feeling himself stir alive from the inside at the sight of your intertwined hands sitting on your lap. It was like a spark lit a fire in him, radiating from his chest and spreading wildly and searing every fiber of his being. Placing a hand over your hand which was touching his face, he started planting butterfly kisses onto your palm, your wrist.

A gasp left your lips when he lowered his head against your shoulder, nuzzling your bare skin in slow progression until he got to the junction of your neck where he latched his mouth, his gentle ministrations turning possessive and urgent as he peppered your shoulder and neck with kisses. He smiled against your skin when you felt your breath hitch while your grip on his hand tightened.

His other hand made its way up your chin, making you turn your head so he could look into your eyes, letting their blue depths consume him, finding his cue when they flicked to his waiting mouth. You weren’t fighting him, and in your own accord, you leaned in and met his lips with yours, kissing him with ardor, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer to you. Your chest heaved, your breasts rising with the action, only restricted by your tight top, tempting his hands.

“I want to touch you,” he murmured into the kiss. “God, I want you.” He let go of your lips, opting to place open-mouthed kisses all over your neck, lingering on the hollow of throat. “Tell me you want it as much as I do,” he rasped, biting onto your collarbone.

“Yes,” you keened, releasing your grip on his hand. “Touch me.”

That was all the encouragement he needed, swooping down once more to claim your lips with his while his large hands leisurely caressed their way up your waist, tracing the contours of your sides, your flesh pliant under the pressure of his touches as the clouds were submissive to the wind. They made their way up to the full swells of your breasts, coveting the succulent flesh from over the fabric of your top, gently squeezing.

Nanami let out an unsteady breath when you moaned softly in his ear, still unable to believe that you were there with him, openly accepting him and melting under his touch. He couldn’t remember the way he saw you before, the fact that you were his best friend’s younger sister, that at one point, he also viewed you the same way, as your lips melded and your tongues mingled. At that moment, you were your own person, the one kissing him back and awakening the heat in his flesh, the one he has his mouth and hands on in outright intimacy…the woman he is utterly and immutably in love with.

He continued to shower attention to your lips while his other hand, slid down to your thighs, finding the slit of your skirt, blindly pushing the garment aside. His rough palm brushed against the inner flesh of your thigh, tenderly stroking. He took possession of your knee, gently lifting your leg so that is was hanging over his, making you spread open.

You pulled away from him, startled when you felt his hand sliding up your thigh. “Nanamin…” you panted, eyes wide as you regarded him, trying to grope for words but none came out.

He hooked a finger onto your lace underwear, leaning close to you as he whispered, “Kento. Call me Kento,” his breath hot and wet on the shell of your ear.

“K-kento,” you repeated. “What –” Your intended question was cut short by a sharp moan when he snaked his hand into your panties, and inserted his finger into you, the action made easy by the slick that had pooled at the apex of your thighs, causing you to arch your back, fingers tangling with the fabric of his sweats.

“You were saying?” he asked with a chuckle before placing kisses on your shoulders again, your hips bucking upwards when he started rubbing your sensitive nub with his thumb while he added yet another one of his fingers to thrust inside you, their length finding your sweet spot repeatedly until all you could think of was him pleasuring you, his ministrations making you see stars.

“Oh god…Ken…” you let out breathily, your hand finding purchase on the grass beside his thigh. “Right there.”

He hummed in response and curled his fingers inside you when he felt your walls clench around them. He started moving at a faster pace. “That’s it, my love. Cum for me.” His tongue lapped on your neck, making you shudder as you reached your high, making beautiful sounds for him as your juices dripped out into his hand. He pulled his fingers from between your legs, glistening with your essence which he licked off with his tongue, eventually placing his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“You taste so fucking good,” he said, bending down so he could kiss you again.

You were a shivering, panting mess when Nanami finally let go, your chest heaving up and down as you slowed your breath, leaning against him. A thin sheen of perspiration covered your exposed skin, glimmering under the rays of light that shone through the canopy of leaves above you. Nanami marveled at the hazy look about your eyes as you looked back at him in wonder as if he was the only one you could perceive at the moment, your flushed cheeks and your pink lips, raw and slightly parted as you respired.

Unable to help himself, he held you tight against him, resting his chin on your shoulder, just watching you come down from your high, the high he brought you to. If this was what he would see every single time he made love to you, he didn’t think he would ever come to terms of ever letting you go or getting enough of you.

When you finally composed yourself, you started chuckling, closing your eyes and placing a hand over them.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, fingers tracing patterns on the back of your hand.

“Us?”

“Hmm? Why is that?”

You finally opened your eyes and looked at him. “I mean this. You, me. I mean, am I imagining –”

Nanami rolled his eyes and cut you short, kissing you briefly. “Did that feel imagined to you?”

“No,” you answered promptly, stopping him when he leaned close again, causing him to laugh, the action reverberating on his solid chest. You sat up, putting distance between them, cradling your head between your hands. “Seriously, quit frying my brain so early in the morning.”

He squeezed you on the hips, making you yelp and motion to stand up, but he didn’t let you. “So,” he grinned cheekily at you, “I fry your brain now?”

“You know you do.” It was your turn to catch him off guard by kissing him on the cheek before you finally stood up. He was such a sucker for the small things you do to him. You cocked your head to the direction of the lake, hands proffered for him to take. “Take a dip with me?”

Nanami took your hand, standing up as well. How can he resist? “Okay.”

My, my. Geto Suguru glanced at Gojo. The groom-to-be was seated opposite him at the balcony that overlooked the gardens and most of the estate grounds, his back to the view. He was completely oblivious to what was going on around him, that much the former has figured. The estate was always refreshing and breathtaking, probably more of a home than any of the houses he owned, but it wasn’t as interesting as what he was witnessing unfold down the hill.

He just arrived, his head hurting from jetlag. Honestly, he was looking forward to resting after meeting Gojo and the family. He was particularly looking forward to meeting you as someone whom he shared a close relationship with, but lunch had come and gone and you haven’t showed up yet. He was told that Nanami was most likely sleeping in after working late, fucking workaholic, he thought, but now, it was evident that his host didn’t know shit about what he was saying where the other male was concerned.

From the walkway going up the hill, he saw you with none other than Nanami Kento. You two of you were walking on the grass, your respective shoes on your hands. You were carrying a covered canvass, a leather bag slung across your shoulder which Geto figured were your art implements while your companion was carrying your easel. By the looks of it, the pair of you came from the lake, took a swim judging from your damp hair and clothes. Definitely a spur-of-the-moment decision considering the glaring lack of the usual bath stuff that the family and guests alike brought to the lake on the occasion that they went for a dip.

It was puzzling to see Nanami being carefree enough to actually be engaging in a spontaneous activity. And was the bastard laughing? Geto scoffed, chuckling at the sight before him. Gojo was still clueless, but Shoko, who had a clear view of you, was nodding her head as she exchanged looks with Geto. “It’s happening,” she murmured.

“Yes, it is.” He grinned. “This will be fun.”

“What is?” Gojo asked, narrowing his eyes at his best friend.

Geto removed his sunglasses, arching a brow at Gojo. “Are you sure I’m the one who had been overseas all this time?”

Utahime snickered, already aware of what they were talking about, much to Gojo’s chagrin. “What are you talking about?”

Before anyone could answer, the sound of your laughter echoed from the main hall, evidently in the middle of a playful banter with Nanami who was evidently running out patience as he countered your every statement with clipped responses. At odds to that, however, was the fact that, when you were within view of the others through the glass doors, you were holding onto his hand above you as you twirled, your smile wide while Nanami looked on in open amusement.

He was the first one to notice the four pairs of eyes who were on the two of you, holding onto your shoulder to stop you from continuing on your way deeper into the mansion.

“What?” you asked him, turning and taking a step back so you were standing less than a foot away from him. Too close to anyone who was seeing you interact, the psychological space between you obviously gone.

“Hi, princess,” Geto called out, noticing how everyone was eyeing you both, their jaws slack, even Shoko who has always been in the know where you and their friend were involved.

You turned your head towards him, the surprise on your face turning into full-blown delight at the sight of him. “Suguru!”

Ah, he thought. Just the greeting he was looking forward to hearing. Mirroring your expressions, he opened his arms wide, waiting for you to come to him, and as expected, you bolted from where you were standing beside Nanami, throwing all your limbs around Geto, hugging him tightly.

“Hello, beautiful. It’s been a while,” he said, returning the gesture with as much fervor, one of his hands coming up your thigh to support your weight. He prided himself with the fact that he was the closest to you apart from Yuuji, and that he was the only one among your brother’s friends who could elicit such a profound, unfiltered reaction from you.

It was further proven by the fact that Gojo had a sulky look while Nanami was pretty much breaking at the seams as he pointedly stared at Geto’s hands on you.

“I missed you!” Your fondness for the man was unmistakable and he reveled in it. “You could always bet I missed you more, baby girl. You’ve gotten prettier since the last time I saw you.” He put you down on the ground and immediately took possession of your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“You think so?” You were positively glowing at the compliment.

Geto smirked. He was also the only one whose compliments you were not immune to. “Satoru better be guarding you well enough to keep your admirers at bay.” He tucked your hair behind your ear before straightening up and looking at Nanami who was standing behind you. He may be a few a steps away from you but the possessive stance he had as he looked at Geto radiated from him.

“Oi, Kento. I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” He greeted, clapping said male on the shoulder.

The blond just nodded. “I was free for the whole week.”

Gojo butted in, his eyes momentarily lingering on you, but he regarded Geto in disdain. “You’ve got guts showing up here three days later than Kento and acting all lovey-dovey with my baby sister!”

“You know why. I’m here now, darling, so shut it.” He always used the sarcastic endearment for Gojo whenever he was sulking like a brat.

He lunged at Geto, placing him in a headlock, giving him no choice but to let go of you although he wanted to annoy Nanami further. He still had tricks up his sleeve to rile the blond though. "Let's catch up later, baby girl. Your baby brother wants attention."

"You're stealing my sister from me. She doesn't even say she misses me."

"I can hear you, Satoru," you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes.

"See! You've corrupted her against me."

Geto chuckled, turning tables on him. "You're the only one who's ruining your image to your own sister."

“Cut it out, you two,” you stated then turned towards Nanami, and to everyone’s stupefaction, you said, “I’m going to shower. You coming?”

“What do you need Kento in the shower for?!” Gojo, overacting as always, demanded from you.

Shoko laughed, unable to suppress it while Geto whistled.

You flashed Gojo a scathing look then. “For someone who’s supposed to be my brother, you’re kind of a moron. You know what I mean.”

“You’re gonna shower together,” Geto chimed in, adding fuel to the fire.

“I need someone to scrub my back for me, right?”

Gojo looked horrified. “Are you crazy?”

You shrugged, dragging Nanami with you. “Yeah, maybe. Wanna join?”

“Don’t even think about it, Kento!” Gojo warned.

Nanami didn’t say anything, following behind you.

Geto could just smile slyly as he watched the pair disappear into the house again. He has just arrived but things were already taking an interesting turn. It will be a fun week indeed.

-end of part 4-

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

39 notes · View notes

crystal-snowing · 4 years

Text

forbidden fruit | lee felix

synopsis: you were told to stay away by your parents and the rest of society, but that was nearly impossible when he just looks so goddamn irresistible.

genre: enemies to lovers!au, gang!au, college!au, angst, fluff

pairing: rich!reader x gangster!felix

word count: 15.9k

warnings: slight violence, explicit language, mentions kidnapping

a/n: i’ve been thinking about writing a longer fic for quite some time now and i think i went a bit overboard on this one, but i hope you guys enjoy in nevertheless ! also special thanks to @crscendoforsung, mwah soro !

one.

If there was one thing that your parents warned you about, it was to stay away from Stray Kids, also known as the most prominent and dangerous gang in the city. This warning was drilled into your head ever since you were a young child, as you were told two things, to stay away from the south side of town and to never associate with known members of this gang. They were two simple rules to follow, and for the past nineteen years of your life, those were two simple rules to follow. And up until last year, you were proud to say that you have never seen or associated with one of those things. But that all changed in your senior year of high school. A new mayor was recently elected to govern the city and insisted on fixing the abnormal disparity between the extremely wealthy and the extremely poor, while this mostly included building new luxury apartment complexes and stores in the less fortunate side of town. However, there was one policy that enraged your parents and the rest of those on the privileged side of town—that the next school year, the mayor was taking eight students from the other side of town and having them enroll in your prestigious school system for the remainder of their educational journey.

No amount of protesting or defiance from your parents or the rest of the community could possibly persuade the mayor to change his mind, and just like that it was done, your entire world would be forever changed.

It was your first semester at college, and on top of that, it was also the first semester of for the new students to be admitted onto your side of town. That day was vividly etched in your memory, your parents helping you pack your bags into the car, hugging you goodbye and giving you a final reminder to not cause any trouble while you’re there. They didn’t need to say it, but you knew that the words were on the tip of their tongue. The essence of that phrase surrounded you and practically swallowed you, it was in the way they squeezed just a little too tightly or the way their gaze lingered on you a little too long as the car finally pulled out of the driveway and you waved goodbye.

This was your promise to them, and the only promise that you needed to keep—no matter the circumstances, you were not allowed to associate or be near any of those gang members.

However, you had to admit that there was some alluring about them. They were the talk of the entire campus, even among the freshmen class, the campus was alive with their arrival. Of course, they stood out from every other student on campus, and when they were walking it was the parting of the Red Sea, every other student making space (either out of fear or shock) to allow them to pass through. Dressed in all black, hoods on and masks covering their entire face except their eyes—they were the epitome of a notorious gang. Even though they passed by you for only a second, they had already piqued your interest, but you had made a promise and you were not willing to let some scum destroy everything that you and your parents have worked so hard for. You were determined and nothing was going to stand in your way, after going through twelve years of schooling and enduring the countless tutors and towers of textbooks, you worked your ass to get to where you are today. And you would be damned if you allowed a few lowlifes to stand in your way, after all, no matter how educated they become they wouldn’t be able to change the fact that they were nothing but garbage from the other side of town—in the end, they would never be able to change who they truly are.

That incident was only a small one in comparison to the many that happened that day. You had almost forgotten to remind yourself that it was also your first day of college as well, and soon the memory of early this morning was soon forgotten in the sea of other memories and experiences that happened the rest of that morning. The orientation was brief, the dean’s speech ending with a round of applause as the entire freshman class was soon released to go to classes and begin to adjust to the campus lifestyle. It was kind of stuffy and crowded inside the auditorium and you were glad that all the boring formalities were over and done with, finally you were able to go to your classes and escape the large mass of people. You stood from the velour red chair and your way outside, where the sunlight and the fresh air felt good against your skin after spending nearly two hours in the dark auditorium.

It was only when you made eye contact with one of them, did your heart really snap out of your dazed state. Your eyes were not fully adjusted to the bright sunlight and for a moment you could have been mistaken about who or what you could have seen, but you soon realized that there was no mistaking the all black clothes that he adorned or his slightly dyed strawberry blond hair. He was standing furthest from the group of three other boys that were also dressed from head-to-toe in the dark color, and while you could have chosen to make eye contact with any of the four boys, he stood out to you the most. And there it was again, this feeling of intrigue—attraction, as he stood less than seven feet away from you.

The two of you couldn’t have been staring at each other for more than a few seconds, when one of his friends slapped on the head, calling out his name and making a joke that you couldn’t really make out from where you were standing. Just like that, the spell was broken and as you glanced at your phone for the time, you realized that you were running late for class. You watched as his friends bid him goodbye before walking off in the opposite direction, and before you could believe that everything that happened in the past few seconds was just a dream, his warm brown eyes once again made eye contact with your own [E/C] eyes. Clearing your throat, you whipped your head around and immediately began walking away from the mysterious boy and towards your first class of the day, the object that was supposed to capture more of your attention compared to this insignificant delinquent. And while it was possible to convince yourself that the awkward encounter that just took place between you and that strawberry blond boy was nothing out of the ordinary, the reddening of your cheeks definitely told a different story.

It had only been a few minutes since you arrived in the lecture hall, while you were not the first one to enter, you certainly weren’t late which was honestly all that mattered to you. Taking out your phone, you decided to scroll through some of your social media pages in order to pass the time, and you were barely a minute into your Instagram feed when you felt a presence sit down next to you. Glancing up from your screen, you were met with a wall of black clothing. Upon a closer inspection, you could see that he was wearing a black leather jacket, a white cotton t-shirt, black jeans, and a black mask covering half of his face. His skin was pale, but had an entire galaxy of freckles that decorated his nose and cheeks, and his eyes were a warm shade of espresso brown.

“Excuse me?”

Sparing you only a glance, he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, before pulling out one of his airpods before looking at you again, only then did you have his full attention. There was honestly no way to approach this without sounding rude, but you had no other choice, and honestly he happened to be quite fortunate that it was you giving him this lecture instead of other students, who wouldn’t hesitate to rip him to shreds compared to you who was doing your best to try at least be semi-polite and give him some useful advice in order to survive in this new world.

“There are tons of seats in this hall and I was wondering if you could maybe not sit next to me? Considering that we don’t know each other and how much I enjoy my personal space and I would appreciate it if you could maybe move a couple chairs down or maybe a whole another row—” your polite speech was interrupted by his low but hearty laugh, as he removed his face mask to reveal his plump pink lips.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to move my seat since you believe, and I quote, ‘am violating your personal space’?” he paused, cocking one of his eyebrows with a smirk sitting on his lips, “sweetheart, if it bothers you that much, how about you get up and move yourself?”

You were absolutely flabbergasted to say the least, and couldn’t believe that someone like him had the audacity to even suggest something like that to someone like you. His attention had refocused back on the device in front of him, and it was clear that by his demeanor that he wasn’t going to be moving any time soon and you were stuck next to him for the remainder of class. This left you with two options, either move and give him the satisfaction of successfully bullying you into submission or stay exactly where you are and stand your ground against a brat like him. And with a small huff, you released your grip on your bag and the rest of your belongings before crossing your arms and focusing on your phone once again. There was no way in hell were you going to give this asshole the satisfaction of seeing you pissed off, instead you stood your ground and watched as the professor finally stood at the center of the room and quieted the class down in order to begin his introduction.

And for the rest of the class out of the corner of your eyes, you couldn’t help but see that smirk envelop the lips of the boy sitting next to you, the very sight of it making your blood boil and your face flushed. Whoever this boy was you were certain of only one thing, he was nothing but an arrogant prick.

two.

The cafe across the street from your dorm has become one of your favorite places on the entire campus, especially when you needed to study. Not only did they have the best drinks on campus, the pastries were to die for, and every time you walked through the doors you were reminded of that as the sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar filled your nose. Cafe 4419 was never too noisy nor was it ever too quiet, the lo-fi playlist and soft murmur from the patrons made it one of your favorite sanctuaries to stay apart from your dorm.

While it was only a few weeks into college, half of the first semester has already flown by and you were practically swimming in essays, projects and studying for upcoming tests. Which is how you found yourself here, spending almost every waking second at the cafe with your favorite drink by your side and piles of textbooks and papers towered around you. Anybody passing by would have immediately assumed that it was finals season, instead of simply being just an ordinary test during the first semester. But you were serious about your academics and grades, and you were not about to let something ruin your concentration that you had going for you.

This was the one place where you could also find an escape from those people. Everywhere else around campus that you seemed to find yourself, it was only a matter of minutes before you were humbly graced with their presence. They seemed to be everywhere and the only two places on campus where you seemed to be safe from them was your own dorm room and this cafe. In a way it sort of is your sanctuary, one of the few places where you didn’t have to see their depressing black clothing, scowling faces or even hear about their very being. Instead, it was just you, your textbooks, notes, and computer—the way it should be, and you were experiencing nothing but pure bliss.

And that moment was completely shattered, when the screech of the stool across the wooden floors next to you and the slamming of an iced coffee of some sort onto the table.

Glaring up at the perpetrator, you weren’t surprised to be faced with a wall of black clothing, including the infamous leather jacket. As your eyes traveled higher up, you were finally met with a pair of brown eyes and a cocky expression looking down on you. Him. The same boy who had the audacity to sit right next to you during your first lecture, currently has the audacity to interrupt your precious study time. His appearance was practically unchanged since the last time you saw him less than a week ago, his strawberry blond hair was a bit more faded than before but his irises still sparkled with that same mischievous and playful glint.

“Fancy running into you here,” he smirked, moving to sit down next to you. His thigh was quick to press up against your own, as you flinched—moving your leg away as if you were being burned. He didn’t acknowledge your actions, instead his eyes seemed to be locked onto your own, scanning over your facial features as if he was studying and reading your every move and expression.

“What do you want?”

He put his hands in surrender attempting to show you that he means no harm and that he’s not a threat, but with that sparkle in his eyes and that sly expression never leaving his face.

“I know we kind of started off on the wrong foot, but I was hoping that we could fix that” he paused, stretching out his hand, “I’m Lee Felix,” he introduced himself with a wink. It was nice to finally put a name to the face, but in all honesty, you didn’t really give a damn about what his name was or were you curious about what he wanted from you. Apparently, it was too much for you to ask him to leave you alone, either that or he was too dense to get the hint.

“Alright, Felix, as much as I enjoyed resolving that little issue, I’m extremely busy. So, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Shooting him one final glare, you assumed that this was the end of the conversation between the two of you, and all you needed to do was to wait for him to leave and refocus back on the mountains of papers in front of you. However, you were naive to think that this was the end of your conversation, and as far as you could tell with Lee Felix, he always needed to have the last word.

‘You know, my feelings were deeply hurt the day we met, and I think it’s only fair for you to make it up to me,” something in his tone of voice shifted causing you to whip your head in his direction and away from the studyguide in front of you. This should have been a major red flag, a glaring neon sign starring right in front of you, but you would be lying if you didn’t say that he intrigued you. Perhaps it was your upbringing, or maybe it was the incessant warnings about people like him, you weren’t sure—the only thing you knew in that moment, for once in your life, he had your undivided attention. “My grades are kind of slipping and in order to keep this scholarship and stay at this ‘prestigious’ school they need to be a bit higher,” he paused before flashing you a blinding smile, “so I was thinking that you could tutor me and we could really spend some more time getting to know one another,” he finished before ending his proposal with a wink.

You had to give it to him, the dirtbag had guts.

The confidence and ego that seemed to ooze out of him was unbelievable and it was hard to believe that people like him still existed. And just like that, you were once again uninterested in the boy sitting in front of you.

“Is that all? I think you already know my answer to that question, now if you could excuse me,” rolling your eyes, you wave him off with a dismissive flick of your wrist. Of course, you should have expected that this wasn’t all that he had planned, he wasn’t known for being a quitter especially when it came to people like you. The two of you were more similar than either of you cared to realize and unbeknownst to you, Lee Felix was determined not to walk out here without having your number in his back pocket and a promise that you were going to see him again. Instead, he did what he did best—completely disregard what he’s been told and follow his instincts.

“Think about this for a moment, the infamous and obviously talented child of the [L/N] refusing to help a poor and unfortunate boy like me, surely that won’t make a great impression on the professors or even the media once they catch word of this,” he shrugged letting the weight of words sink in. You hated to admit it, but he was right. Your family was powerful, but in exchange for that power, every single thing that you did was scrutinized—your daily lives constantly under the microscope. While it was considerably bad press to be seen around people like him, especially with the amount of warnings that you received from your parents as well as other members in the community, there was no denying that it was perhaps even worse press for you to completely ignore and reject him. “It’s really up to you, princess/prince.”

You had no choice, and he knew it.

“Fine, I’ll tutor you,” you turned away from him for a second to grab a pen before scribbling your phone number on a piece before ripping it off and handing it to him. Before he could take it from your hand, you snatched the piece of paper from out of his reach. “Just letting you know, I’m not doing this for you. Meet me at the library on Friday and make sure you’re not late.”

Grabbing the slip of paper out your hand, and his drink in the other, he stood and made his way towards the door. You couldn’t help but watch him go, a frown present on your face. With a final wink, he was gone and out the door, and you could finally relax and relieve all the tension that was built up in your shoulders. Mentally scolding yourself, you wondered how the hell you even ended up in a situation like this, in a matter of only weeks you managed to break the only promise to your parents and somehow make acquaintances with one of the very people that you swore to hate.

At this point it was useless to try and study, there was no way that you could possibly study after a distraction like that. Gathering your materials, before haphazardly shoving them into your bag, and grabbing your drink and walking out of the cafe door. The weather was transitioning between autumn and winter, the brisk air blew against your face as you walked, your mind replaying everything that happened within the span of a few minutes.

Scoffing to yourself, you shook your head as you made your way back to your dorm. Fine, if Lee Felix wanted to make an enemy out of you, then so be it, and from this day forward you were determined to make his life a living hell.

three.

After sitting in the library for almost half an hour, you were about a millimeter away from losing your shit. As usually the library was pretty quiet and the only noises that could be heard were the faint rustling of papers and the dull hum of the heater. You had threatened him not to be late, and you had even promised him that you would leave if he was even a minute late, but somehow you found yourself sitting at one of the many wooden tables in the gigantic library tapping your pencil impatiently. You should leave, that much was obvious, but there was some part of you that was holding onto hope that he was going to show. Standing up, you scolded yourself for being so foolish, you were smarter than this—you were smarter than him—but somehow you allowed yourself to end up in this situation, again.

“Sorry I’m late, princess/prince, I got caught up with a few things.”

You didn’t even hear him approach, but as you turned around you were met with his figure. It seemed like his entire wardrobe was composed of only dark clothing, his outfit pretty much the same as it was less than four days ago. The only difference was the gold chain that he adorned around his neck, which was a stark contrast compared to his black clothing. He noticed how your eyes seemed to be drawn to the flashy object, before he quickly placed the object underneath his shirt and cleared his throat. However, there was something different about his appearance than before, his hair was a bit messier and tousled than usual, his skin glistened and was a bit more flushed, and there were visible red or pink marks that littered his neck.

Oh.

That realization finally seemed to draw you from your daze, as you stared back at him, your steely [E/C] eyes met his mahogany ones. Under your gaze his eyes seemed to soften a bit and it wasn’t until he saw your arms crossed against your chest did he realize the gravity of his mistake.

“You’re late,” you practically growled, “if you’re not going to take this seriously then fine, I told you not to waste my time and if you’re going to be a piece of—”

Felix’s hard and once impenetrable exterior was suddenly cracked by the fierceness and fire that shone in your eyes, only then did he feel some sort of small pang inside his hair. This was an entirely foreign feeling to him, and even stranger was that you were the one causing him to feel this way. For his entire life he has been dealing with people like you, those that dripped with wealth and decadence, but he knew that there was a hidden evil within them. The facade was only a ploy to distract from the devil inside of them—they were malicious, unforgiving, monsters that from day one have done nothing but persecute people like him. People like him were rendered powerless against the people like them, kicked to the desolate part of town and condemned to live a life of misfortune and suffering. Felix knew exactly what to say that would make your blood boil, that would aggravate you till you wouldn’t be able to stand the mention of his name, he knew exactly what to do to make you despise him even more, and yet his mouth and words failed him.

For once, he didn’t know what to say, so he instead slammed his books down on the table—the sound echoing in the almost silent library. A sound like that was bound to have repercussions, and the glares and disgusted looks you received was enough to force you into submission. You should have just walked out of the door, but going against your better judgement and rationale, you decided to stay. Sitting down, you pulled the textbooks and notebooks from your bag as Felix sat next to you taking out his own materials. Flipping the book to the first page, you pointed at the first problem.

“Let’s start with this problem first and make sure you show all your work,” you gestured to the first of many problems in the workbook, “oh, and if you’re ever late again because of some dick appointment, I’ll make sure that every single person on this campus knows how small that four inch dick of yours really looks like.”

After that, the two of you seemed to fall into a comfortable rhythm. There was minimal talking between the two of you, coming to the mutual agreement that you were only here for one purpose and one purpose only. But, just because he stopped bickering with you for once didn’t necessarily make your job any easier. There wasn’t really any nice way to put it, but he was horrible at everything. It was expected of course, unlike the other students that attended the prestigious JYP University he didn’t need to pass the rigorous entrance exam nor did he need extremely high grades in high school. You had your work cut out for you, but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge. But that didn’t mean that Felix was going to make it easy on you.

While you have tutored other students in the past before, you could safely say that none of them were quite like Lee Felix. Never have you met someone so unmotivated and lazy. He was the one who was practically begged for your help, and now he’s sitting here with his head resting against his arm absentmindedly doodling in the margins of the book.

“Look, if you’re not going to take this seriously then what are we even doing here? You’re just wasting my time and your own,” you huffed, tapping your pen harshly against the workbook to stir the strawberry blond from his thoughts. “At least you could pretend to do the work that I’m assigning you, instead of blatantly ignoring everything I say.”

That grabbed his attention, as he sat up straighter and stretched his arms over his head as he rolled his eyes. “That’s easy for you to say when you’ve had everything handed to you all of your life. I bet you don’t even understand what it’s like to have to work hard for something, princess/prince,” he scoffed. Your head snapped in his direction, his words echoing in your head.

What the fuck did he just say to you?

“You think I’ve had it easy, well newsflash, princess/price, you’re not the only one whose had a hard life. Yes, privilege does exist but don’t you even think for a damn second that I haven’t worked in order to get here to this university. Just because you were admitted on a scholarship and without taking the entrance exam, doesn’t mean that it was the case for everybody,” you huffed as you stood up, causing an abrupt noise as the chair slid against the wooden floors. “My parents used their money to buy their way through life, but there is only so much money can buy. And if you really think that I bought my way into the school, then why did you even ask me to tutor you in the first place?”

Your last outburst received the nastiest glares from the other students around the both of you, and if looks could kill you would have been dead over ten times over. But at the moment you couldn’t care less, this was your final farewell—your final “go-fuck-yourself” to Lee Felix so you could finally be rid of this parasite. With the last slam of your chair, you turned away from the male and made your hasty escape towards the exit of the library.

If you ever saw him again before the year was over, it would be too soon.

four.

This year was probably the year of firsts for Lee Felix, in addition to meeting you he was also beginning to experience these foreign emotions that came along with you. In no way shape or form was he a bully, instead he often had some certain choice words for those that exhibited egotistical and arrogant qualities—and in his defense, they were usually the ones who started it. He was known for his unforgiving nature, after all, there was no way he could live the lifestyle he did without being this way. This feeling of guilt and regret was new for him, in his opinion what he said to you wasn’t even the worst thing to make it past those lips, yet the look of fiery passion and hurt that was written across your features was enough to make him think twice. He felt apologetic, even though he practically spits poison every day to people like you, something about you attracted him, pulled him in and made you different.

That being said, he was horrible at apologizing.

Which was why when you could feel a presence next to you during the next lecture, you didn’t even bat an eyelash. Nor did you even dare to look at him as he slammed something down on your desk, before turning away and mumbling to himself. Upon further inspection, you found a Coke can sitting untouched and unopened with a note taped to the front with two simple words written on it.

I’m sorry.

Rolling your eyes, you glanced to the right where you knew he would be sitting with some of his other friends. They were always the ones making the most noise in the class, treating the lecture as a study hall instead of an opportunity for growth and maturation. You could spot three of them easily, their freshly dyed hair sticking out sorely in the sea of neutral colors. They were too far away for you to tell what they were talking about, but their gleeful expressions and smiles etched on their faces probably meant that they were up to no good. You could spot Felix immediately, he distanced himself from his group of friends. While he still engaged in the conversation, he was passive, his brown eyes dull as his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

This was the first time that you have seen the fire extinguished from his eyes, and he looked so goddamn pitiful. As if he could sense your eyes, his face turned to meet yours, his eyes catching you red-handed. His expression was complex, to say the least. On the one hand, all traces of remorse and regret seemed to disappear completely and was replaced with another emotion that you couldn’t read. Furiously you turned away from him, your cheeks dusted with a pink hue. Thankfully, before he could manage to approach you the professor entered at the front of the room and began the lecture, your thoughts now becoming full of Shakespeare’s prose and the impact of foil characters in Romeo and Juliet, leaving no room to worry about that imbecile.

You had to admit, Lee Felix definitely did have some charms. If he didn’t have something at least, then there would be no reason why you found yourself sitting next to him in this empty lecture hall, the both of you sprawled over notebooks and countless works of Shakespeare at your disposal. You should be mad at him, furious even, he was nothing but a good-for-nothing gangster who had the audacity to insult you—but here you were, crawling back to him. But, even through his shitty apology you somehow found it hard to stay away. He was dangerous, the closest thing that you had to breaking the rules and to give him up would be bringing your life back to normalcy—uneventful, boring and you would be damned if you ever had to give him up and return to life before. As infuriating as he was, he came into your life like a whirlwind and while at times he made your life a living hell, you kind of enjoyed his presence.

Of course you were wary about tutoring him again, but your fear was soon quelled by the fact that his personality seemed to have done a complete flip from the day before. Not only was he attentive, but it just goes to show that if he would just sit down and put his ego in check for a second, then maybe he actually had a chance at succeeding at this school. With his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth nibbling softly on his lower lip as his hand moved quickly across the paper to solve the problem. His hair would continually fall in front of his eyes as he concentrated, and he kept swiping at it every so often. Your hand itches to reach away and brush away those stray locks, but you refrain yourself from doing so, instead opting to pick at your sleeve as you admired his expression.

“It’s getting late,” your voice sounded foreign against the silence, those three words being the first thing you have said to him in the past few hours. “Maybe we should call it a night, and continue next week.” He nodded, prying his eyes away from the rows of words in front of him, helping you gather your materials into one place and pack them into your bag. Wordlessly, you both pushed in your chairs before exiting the lecture hall together.

The walk outside was silent, while the previous argument didn’t necessarily still hang in the air, it’s presence was still made apparent due to the wall of tension between the two of you. The campus was softly being illuminated by the streetlights that littered the property, aided slightly by the moonlight that seemed to cast the entire scenery in a different light. There was something different about the university when the sun went down, while it certainly wasn’t a ghost town (the constant parties on campus made sure of that) it made the campus look almost softer and whimsical in a sense. The ancient buildings that were used as classrooms during the day time had transformed into castles, the streets practically shining when the moonlight sparkled on them and you—you felt as if you could rule it all.

You both stopped in front of a sleek black Harley Davidson, the motorcycle in pristine condition and didn’t have a single scratch on it. There was no denying how expensive this was, and for once it looked as if he actually belonged at this school with a ride like that. You knew this was where the two of you were meant to part ways. For you, it was back to the dormitories—hopefully being able to sneak in before room check and for him, back to his other life, doing whatever misfits like him do best by causing mischief and mayhem in the dead of night.

This was your cue to leave, turn on your heels and rush back to your dorm room, but you couldn’t help but stand there and watch him. Felix looked absolutely ethereal in the moonlight, his tan skin glowing and eyes sparkling—and you were entranced, watching him unclip the helmet from the handlebars of his motorcycle and holding it in his hands There was this unknown tightening in your chest, this foreign hitch in your breath, your hands growing clammy as the seconds continued to pass on.

“Here, put this on. I like to think that I’m a safe driver, but safety first,” his voice calls out to you, before the black helmet was tossed your way. Fumbling with the object for a few seconds, you finally caught it as your brain finished rebooting. As you looked down at the helmet, and back at him you were at a loss of words. “Well, are you coming or not? I don’t have all day, princess/prince.”

His head was cocked to the side, and while his words had a bit of bite to them, his expression is playful. You were supposed to be the rational one in this situation, and the “correct” answer was clearly staring you right in the face. You were old enough to take care of yourself, and you certainly didn’t need a dollar-store version of a knight in shining armor to take you home.

“I can make it back on my own, thanks for the offer—”

It took him two strides in order to make it over to you and a total of ten seconds to get you on the bike. Two seconds in order to yank the helmet out of your hands, three seconds to secure it on your head, three seconds to pull you onto the vehicle behind him and two seconds to wrap your arms loosely around his waist.

“Hold on tight.”

That was the last thing he uttered to you, before he revved the engine and the two of you sped off into the night. At this rate, it was too late to even think about getting off unless you wanted to seriously injure yourself. Instead, you opted for clinging onto his body and pressing yourself flat against his back as you held on for dear life. Immediately, you could feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach the moment the vehicle started, the wind practically making you deaf as the scenery of campus whipped around you in a blur. Yes, you were scared, after all you were riding around on a death trap with a boy that you barely know and who was currently in control of your life. Despite all of these factors, there was something exhilarating about riding with Felix. The feeling of your hair whipping around you, speeding through the empty streets of campus and the faint smell of sandalwood and lemon that emitted from him was intoxicating. And it was safe to say that you were drunk off this feeling.

By the time Felix pulled in front of your dorm room, you were still buzzed and your senses were working over time trying to process everything around you. It wasn’t long before reality washed harshly over you, removing your arms from his toned waist and scrambling off the bike, the helmet still sitting lop-sided on your head. Your whole body was aflame, every place where you made contact with him was burning and your heart was beating painfully loud against your chest.

“Thanks for the ride,” you muttered, clearing your throat, avoiding eye contact with him. He didn’t say anything in return, instead placing the break down on the motorcycle and walking over to you. His fingers brushed against your face as he unclipped the helmet, which sent a new wave of heat to rush to your cheeks, before he took the safety gear off you and tucked it under his arm. If you had blinked, you might have missed the way his eyes flitted over your lips, as he unconsciously licked his lips before turning on his heel and making his way back to his vehicle.

The only evidence that this wasn’t a dream and was real life was the faint smell of gasoline and the roar of a motorcycle in the distance, signalling his departure.

five.

Over the next few weeks, the two of you have met at the university’s cafe between eight and ten times for the purpose of studying. Granted, you both were studying (only because Felix knew you would have his head if he didn’t concentrate) but there was this underlying reason why you both kept coming back. His presence was like a drug, addicting and thrilling, and you couldn’t keep away. Both of you were chasing that high, the overwhelming feeling of euphoria and you were both relentless in reaching your goal. It started that night that he dropped you off at your dorm, and ever since then you’ve been hooked. His lips didn’t even manage to touch yours, and you were quite disappointed at this fact, but you weren’t going to let him go that easily, no if he wanted you to work for it, then so be it. And that’s how you found yourself, practically slaving away over textbooks all for him.

It has become a ritual for the two of you to linger outside of his lecture hall on exam day. He would always pick you up from your dorm that morning and take you to his classroom, where you would both wait until the very last second before leaving his presence. Time with him was precious, it was fleeting and you always wanted to spend just a second longer with him. He looked gorgeous in the sunlight as it tangled itself up in his locks of hair, bouncing off his dewy tan skin before capturing his entire body in its rays. A cup of coffee always in his left hand, while his right held onto a packet of stapled papers, his messy scrawling decorated the pages and there were a few places where your neat handwriting made an appearance as he recited some facts off the sheets.

“So, the whole point of having Fortinbras and just mentioning him in the play is to be a foil character for Hamlet?”

“Sort of, remember Fortinbras was also trying to take over Denmark as revenge for Hamlet murdering his father,” you reminded him, shaking your finger gently in front of his face. There was a teasing expression written on your face, and he returned it with a sneer of his own. You both stopped a couple of feet in front of the entrance of the classroom as he took the stack of papers before smacking his forehead with them, a groan escaping his lips.

“I give up, how about we ditch this exam and instead I’ll treat you to your favorite pastries at that bakery down the block,” he suggested, lifting the papers away from his face and giving you a dazzling smile. On any other person, by this point they would be putty in his hands and he would easily be able to have his way with them. But you knew better, and for the most part you would like to think that you were immune to his charms.

“Are you trying to bribe me, Felix?”

Your eyes narrowed at his choice of words with one eyebrow raised, but a teasing smirk was dancing across your lips. Rolling his eyes in your direction, he placed his hands up as if he was surrendering as a small chuckle escaped his lips.

“Me? I would never!” Sarcasm dripped off every word that he spoke, turning away you as he refocused his attention back on the study guide in front of him as a look of disgust overcame his features. “I want to know, how likely is it that you’ll still associate with me even after I fail this test, because the odds are currently not in my favor.”

There was something about his tone of voice that seemed to throw you off a little bit. Yes, he was still trying to keep the conversation with you as playful as possible, but you could hear the slight undertone of insecurity and doubt in his voice. He was genuinely worried about this test and it showed. It was quite an odd sight to witness, the boy who weeks before didn’t care about anything except annoying the crap out of you was worried about something as mundane as a test.

“Hmm, well if you fail this exam then I’m not sure we can be friends anymore,” you slyly spoke, “you know, I don’t associate myself with losers.”

The word “friends” caused something to bloom inside his chest, a warm feeling spreading throughout his entire body. Honestly, he’s never really thought to put a definition on your relationship, sure the two of you have spent a lot time together the past few weeks to study and cram for this exam, but everything wasn’t exactly business related. There were times during those sessions where you would both chuck erasers and pencils at each other, making fun of each other’s favorite foods and having conversations that were far from the original topic of the works of William Shakespeare. He enjoyed your presence, and liked having you around, and if being your friend meant that he could continue standing by your side then so be it.

“I’m a loser? Says the one who literally spends all their time studying and didn’t know how to let loose until I showed you how—your definition of ‘fun’ was spending four hours isolated at the library reading about the influential aspects of Renaissance paintings in modern art,” Felix countered, thinking back fondly on the memory.

The two of you continued to playfully bicker even after entering the lecture hall, only managing to quiet down as soon as the professor began administering the test. You finished a lot quicker than he did, and you could see his pained expression as he continued to struggle with the assignment for the next hour. The class was silent, students either leaving after the examination was completed or were sitting quietly on their phones waiting for the rest of the class to finish the exam, and with everyone mostly distracted it gave you a good excuse to admire him from afar. His face was contorted with a whole bunch of different emotions running through his features, and while you were considering helping him on at least one problem, it would violate your code of ethics—not to mention that he was a big boy, and you were confident that he could manage by himself.

It was another forty minutes before he finished, standing up with a visible frown on his face as he handed the test back to the professor before making his way back to you. Both of you walked out the classroom side-by-side and in silence, and as you exited the building you began to notice the worry that seemed to have etched itself into his face. Slapping him lightly on the bicep, you brought him out of his stupor and flashed him a smile that seemed to calm his racing heart for now.

“Relax, let’s go to the cafe down the street to get your mind off this test. Remember, I accept bribes in the form of anything that has caffeine or is sugary and sweet,” you suggested, looping your arm with his and tugging him towards the building.

And for about half an hour, that seemed to do the trick. The test was soon forgotten as he watched you devour a cinnamon bun, and drink at least two cups of coffee as you both chatted aimlessly about miscellaneous things. It wasn’t until he was walking you back to your dorm and he heard a ping! from his cellphone did the worrisome thoughts come flooding back in.

“95, huh I knew the professor was going to drop that question,” you shrugged, glancing down at your phone, before pocketing it. As you looked back on his figure, you could see his face fall slightly behind the phone, and you knew this meant bad news. “Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

Felix tugged the phone out of your reach, holding it over his head as you came closer and stood underneath him. The two of you were only a few inches apart, and you could practically hear his heart hammering in his chest, and the warmth from his breath as he towered over you.

“Promise you won’t get mad,” a small but playful pout sat on his lips as he continued to hold the phone out of your reach. Rolling your eyes, you continued to jump and try to reach the phone, but since he was taller than you it was pretty much impossible for you to reach. “Hmm, an 80 isn’t that terrible for studying is it?”

It was back, his signature cocky smirk that repulsed yet attracted you at the same time, flitting across his lips. With your mouth agape, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be feeling at the moment. All you were aware of was the surge of undistinguishable emotions that flooded your body and before you could even begin to process what was going on, your arms somehow find their way around his waist with your head resting against his chest. His entire body stiffened up at your touch and you could feel his heart racing against your ear, your heart beating at the same speed. Only a few seconds seemed to pass, before you could feel his hands on your body, they were tentative at first, but soon held you with as much strength as you gripped his body.

There it was again, a few seconds late and you would have missed it. Despite the redness in your cheeks and the overwhelming amount of embarrassment that radiated off of you, your eyes glanced up to meet his own, watching as they tentatively flitted over your lips. He seemed unsure of himself, deciding whether he really wanted to follow through with his actions, and in that split second he decided to risk it all, casually leaning in—hoping to close the already short space between your bodies.

They are nothing but worthless nobodies and they will bring you nothing but trouble. Promise me, you’ll stay as far away as possible from them, please.

In an instant, your body untangled itself from his, your breath ragged and your eyes darting everyone except his face. He stood there dumbfounded, he wanted to reach out to you, to ask what he did wrong—was he misinterpreting the signals, imagine the chemistry between the two of you, did he make a mistake? You barely had enough brain power to focus on him as you could feel your heart crumbling inside of your ribcage, your breath coming out in short spurts as you struggled to regain control over the situation at hand. You couldn’t recognize yourself anymore, the person that you have become after attending the university for a few measly months and you have already strayed so far from where you started. But this wasn’t the type of growth that you could be proud of, fraternizing with the enemy, the same enemy that you were warned countless times before to stay away from.

This was wrong—everything was wrong. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, your life wasn’t supposed to come to this point as you stood here as living proof of everything that your parents despised. But, you weren’t that far from salvation. You had been delusional for months, and it was about time that you started making amends. Whatever thing that you had with him was now over, and it was about time that you began living the life that your parents wanted you to have, free from parasites and monstrosities like him.

Muttering some sort of excuse, you backed away from him before taking off back to your dorm, leaving in your wake a bewildered heartbroken (although he would never admit it) Lee Felix in your wake.

six.

You have successfully managed to avoid him for three days, but you knew that was just luck. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand, you have told him a numerous amount of times where you were throughout the day and well, old habits die hard. Honestly, if he really wanted to find you he would have done it already, but he was being a gentleman and giving some personal space to let you calm down before the confrontation happened. You were grateful in a sense, you needed this time to reflect on what an utter disaster you have become. This has gone on for too long, what started off as bringing some joy and excitement to your dull life has spiraled out of control. You lost yourself in the process, fading to the background as this unrecognizable version has taken center stage. What would your parents say if they saw you like this, completely different from the child they raised you to become, fraternizing with the enemy and sympathizing with the same scum they told you to avoid for your entire life.

Regret oozed through your entire being and you wished that you could take back everything that has happened. You should have turned him down that fateful day, rejected him cold-heartedly in the cafe, and let the rumors come about you and your family—the outcome would have probably been better than your current reality. While you couldn’t go back and change the past, you could instead work on mending the future, which is why you thrusted yourself back into your studies at full force. There was no place for distractions where you’re heading, and you assumed it would be easy to surround yourself with other intellectuals that shared your same passion and drive.

This would prove more difficult than you originally assumed. The atmosphere on campus has changed completely, and to put it frankly, you were being avoided like the fucking plague. Every time you walked past a group of students, you could hear the hushed whispers and feel the glares being directed your way. Obviously, they were smart enough not to say their comments loud enough for you to hear or for you to catch them staring, as they looked away as soon as you even turned your head in their direction. Even some of your friends, the same ones that you’ve known perhaps your entire life would even spare a glance in your direction. You could even feel the glares from some of the members of Stray Kids, and while you were not necessarily on speaking terms with them, it didn’t give them an excuse to be rude with you.

You did your best to ignore the lingering looks and comments throughout the day, but as you strolled out of your last class of the day, you couldn’t stand it any longer. In particular, there was a group of girls that you have practically known all of your life, ever since elementary school, who had the audacity to mutter your name and laugh as you walked by—and that was your breaking point. You were usually a patient person and usually weren’t quick to rush to judgement, but this was the last straw. Rolling up your sleeves, you marched up to them with a scowl written across your face..

“If you have a problem with me you should say something to my face instead of talking shit behind my back, you fucking cowards,” you hissed, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you glared at them. Two of the girls mumbled something under their breath, tugging at the sleeves of the main girl in the center. But, she wasn’t intimidated by you, instead she took a step forward till your faces were only a couple inches apart.

“[L/N] [Y/N], long time no see. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, is he off robbing some banks?” her voice was shrill as she hissed out that insult. Her behavior was typical, and while she appeared to act condescending and superior towards you, her true emotions were written as plain as day across her face—she was jealous. It was in the way her rhetorical question had that unnecessary sharpness curled at the end of words or the way the scowl on her face was a little more prominent than it needed to be. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame her. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Lee Felix was quite an attractive person, but that was all besides the point. He wasn’t yours to begin with and whatever relationship the two of you had was now nonexistent, so it didn’t matter how pretty you find his face.

“He’s not my boyfriend, so if you could kindly back the—” you huffed, readjusting the stack of papers and textbooks in your arms.

“Whatever, look we don’t mean any harm, honestly we’re just worried about you, honey. I mean, you’ve heard the rumors about people like them, they’re dangerous and we’re just worried about you getting in harm's way,” you could see the way the glint in her eyes seemed to return after you confirmed that were in fact not dating Felix. The fake sincerity in her voice was piercing to your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to get rid of her and stop her from prying into your personal life. “Plus, what would you parents say if they see you hanging out with someone like him?”

So that’s what this about, this was the entire underlying reason why, this is why she decided to pick a fight with you. Of course, everything was about power, it always is with someone like her and her family—the Moon family was always power-hungry gremlins. For many years your family has sort of allied itself with the Moons, not by choice, but just because of circumstances. You have known her your entire life, and up until this point you have always known her to be jealous of everything that you had. And now, it was no different, she always wanted what she couldn’t get her hands on, and everything in your life was currently on the menu.It was the typical story, she wanted to use him for what she did best, flirting with danger—like your parents, hers would practically disown her if they found out she was fooling around with someone with low status like him, but the thrill and the temptation was too great to pass up. It was all for the thrill, and some desire was too strong.

Oh did you have some choice words for her, but it seemed like your voice failed you felt a warm hand envelop your wrist. Whipping around you were once again met with an eyeful of black clothing that obscured your vision. The heat radiating off of him was almost suffocating, and you struggled to catch your breath around him. With a final glare in the direction of the trio, he tugged your wrist and your body followed as he dragged you away from the trio of girls. The two of you rounded the corner to one of the Biology lecture halls, before you finally grasped control of yourself and shook off his hold from your body.

You were your own independent person meaning that you could definitely handle yourself, and definitely didn’t need someone like him to save you. There was an unreadable expression written across his features, as you cradled your burning wrist to your chest. Neither of you dared to speak a word, the awkward silence was deafening, both of your eyes were diverted towards the ground distracted by the concrete sidewalks. You needed to get out of there, as far away as you could manage and while you didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, you knew it was necessary unless you wanted to prolong your time spent in his presence.

“Thanks for you know, everything that you did back there, but I was handling things on my own.”

You still couldn’t look him in the eyes, knowing that you would break if that ever happened. Instead, you opted to look straight ahead, finding some interesting looking trees that stood out behind him. His scoff startled you slightly, causing you to quickly look at his face before diverting your eyes once more.

“Whatever you say, princess/prince. I’m sure you could have managed just fine on your own,” he rolled his eyes. That statement that ignited a fire within you, your face flushed and your palms growing sweaty as you balled them up into fists.

“What do you mean by that?” you hissed, in an instant your eyes locked with his own—and your expression immediately softened. His demeanor also seemed to soften under your gaze, and he hesitantly approached your figure, till only a couple of inches stood between the two of you. But, you weren’t going to let him get away with it that easily. As you attempted to take a step back, his hand grabbed your wrist suddenly, stopping your body from moving away from him any further. “Hey, look, I’m serious, I’m not some damsel in distress that constantly needs saving. I can take care of myself and I don’t need you constantly babysitting me, like I’m some child because I—”

With two steps the distance between the two of you closed, his face leaned and before you knew it, his lips were pressed against your own. He tasted like caramel with a bit of a smokey flavor, not quite like barbeque and not quite like cigarettes, perhaps something in between. His lips were slightly chapped against your own, but the kiss itself was gentle, his hands placed gingerly on your hips as he pulled you against his body. He was a fantastic kisser, by the way, every direction that his lips moved in and the way he was holding you made you practically putty in his hands as you melted into his touch. Soon, the need for oxygen was too great, the two of you breaking apart as the only sounds that could be heard were the pants from the both of you that stood out harshly against the quietness of the campus.

“We, oh god, we shouldn’t have—” you paused, attempting to gather your thoughts, trying to quiet the thousands upon thousands scenarios and ideas that were running through your head at the moment. Your parents, god, if they ever found out about this you would be ruined. Everything that you have worked for over the years would be completely shattered, demolished and bulldozed by the boy that stood in front of you—and for some reason, when you looked into his warm brown eyes, you didn’t seem to care. You were never really a reckless person, but for him, you were willing to risk it all. At this point in time, what he meant to you was worth more than whatever punishment your parents were going to inflict on you once they found out.

“You know I don’t care about what people think, and neither should you. Why is it any of their business what the two of us do with our lives? If I like you and you like me, then I don’t see the problem,” he pushed your body back a little bit, so he could look into your eyes. For once, there was no cockiness or arrogance in his voice, instead he looked at you passionately, with his hands holding yours and his thumb rubbing circles on the tops of your hands. There was so many unspoken words between the two of you, but just this once his touch and his presence was enough.

And for once you could safely say that Lee Felix was right, in this moment it was quite honestly you and him against the world.

seven.

To say that things were weird between the two of you was definitely an understatement. Neither of you addressed what had happened a couple of nights ago, the kiss was almost a taboo subject and to mention it meant that you both had to address the change in your relationship with each other. Instead, it was easier to ignore everything that changed and instead pretend that everything was just fine between the two of you. In all honesty, you would be lying if you said that you never considered a relationship with him, and in reality, that is all you have been thinking about the last couple of days. You never thought that love could feel like this, every moment with him was as if you were floating, drifting endlessly on cloud nine with no intentions of stopping. Every stereotype and previous assumptions about him were completely thrown out the window. He was perhaps the kindest soul that you could ever meet, despite his rough exterior, and he treated you with the utmost kindness, his manners rivaling some of the more posh boys that you have dated in the past. He was a complete gentleman and never pushed you to do anything that you didn’t want to, respected his boundaries and of course, acted as the epitome of the perfect boyfriend. You knew that you should tread with caution, the honeymoon phase was still in full effect, but with him, you couldn’t help but dive straight in. With him you were loose and reckless, the complete opposite of everything that you were molded to be by your parents.

And while you were unsure of where your relationship with him stands, you were first and foremost his tutor, you would be damned if you were the one who ultimately caused his grades to slip again. Which is why most of your dates the past few days have been focused on only studying, the two of you meeting up at cafes or the library in order to help him prepare for this upcoming final on Literature of the 20th Century. There was a slight tension between the two of you, understandable considering the circumstances, but you were adamant that there would be nothing to distract him from acing this exam, and this was evident in how you threatened him with everything under the sun if he even dared to try anything other than studying.

Before both of you knew it the exam was quickly approaching, the last study date seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes, and you both found yourself walking the familiar path on the way to the lecture hall in time for the morning exam. As usual, Felix clutched the study guide in his hand as he walked, mumbling little facts about each work of literature that was present on the page. You couldn’t help but smile at his mannerisms, watching his face furrow as he was deep in thought made him appear almost cute, vastly different from his every day cool and cocky exterior.

“So, what’s my prize this time for scoring well on the exam?” he asked you coolly, cocking one eyebrow in the air playfully, the study guide soon forgotten in his hands.

“Bold of you to assume that there is a prize, I mean, studying hard and putting in the work and receiving the outcome you wanted sounds like enough of a reward to me,” you shrugged, giving him a wink. In response, he shot you a teasing glare shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“While that sounds very uh tempting I have another idea,” he paused slightly for dramatic effect before continuing, “if I get an A on this test, then I think you should promise me something.” Of course, he didn’t really go into details after that, citing that if he talked about it any longer than he will jinx himself and not only fluke this test, but he will also cheat himself out of this deal.

Bidding you a quick farewell, he disappeared inside the lecture hall blowing you a kiss before vanishing behind the wooden doors. Even in a situation like this he seemed to find time to be flirty, ignoring the obvious tension and oddness between the two of you in favor of attempting to restore some sense of normalcy. He was different to say the least, and that’s probably what attracted you to him in the first place, and with a slight shake of your head, you turned away and walked towards your own classroom.

And you couldn’t begin to hide the redness in your cheeks or the boisterous hammering of your heart beneath your ribcage, which confirmed what you had previously known already—that you were head-over-heels in love with this boy.

As soon as Felix stepped foot outside of the lecture room, his eyes desperately scanned the campus grounds looking for your figure. He was ecstatic and couldn't wait to share the good news with you, but as his eyes moved around looking for any sign of you, he was disappointed to not see your figure in sight. This emotion was evident on his face, and it was hard for him to hide it, as he opted to shove his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket. He wanted to boast to you, to shove his high grade in your face and smugly demand his prize—an official date with you. No, he wouldn’t accept anymore of this “study date” bullshit, while he did get to spend time with you (which he did very much enjoy) he wanted something that wasn’t underneath the guise of school. He wanted something that was real and concrete between the two of you, and this was the perfect opportunity to voice his true intentions.

Felix was no idiot, the kiss that you both shared was something that doesn’t normally happen between a tutor and a student, let alone between friends. At the moment he wasn’t really sure where your relationship stood, the two had walked the very thin line between friends and lovers, and after the kiss, a boundary was crossed and it’s too late to go back now. Pulling out his phone, he decided to send you a quick text just in case you were running late from class.

very annoying (but cute) boy: hey, where are you??

very annoying (but cute) boy: i think i would like to redeem my prize right now, and in order for me to do that i need you to be here

Even after ten minutes there was no response from you, while it wasn’t that odd for you to go a bit radio silent when you’re busy studying, but he thought it was a bit strange of you to forget something as important as this. That was it, you must have become preoccupied with something else, and you’ll end up getting back to him when you find the time. Shrugging his shoulders, he pocketed his phone before taking off to find the rest of his friends, his thoughts lingering on you the whole way there.

It’s only a few hours later when an announcement is made across the campus, alerting the entire student body of your disappearance. Of course the word “kidnapping” isn’t used in order to not alarm the rest of the student body, but the meaning behind your disappearance was evident across the campus. The first thing that he did once the news was broken to him was punch a wall, sure, not the most effective thing to do but at the moment he was unable to contain himself and his emotions. He was angry, in fact he was more than angry, and he honestly didn’t know what to do with himself. How could this have happened, especially under his watch? You were his responsibility, he was supposed to be able to protect you from everything, especially things like this, but he has failed you.

Currently he was both a mess inside and out, his hand coming in contact with the coffee table that was situated in the center of the room. His eyes were ablaze, a storm brewing within them, as he glared at the taller male in front of him. The rest of his friends gathered around the two males, watching the scene unfold in front of them.

“What do you mean we can’t go and save her? We’ve done recon missions like this all time, we will in and out before anything really happens,” Felix slammed his fist down on the coffee table, shaking the furniture in an attempt to prove his point to the male in front of him. However, Chan was more mature than that and would not be easily swayed by irrational persuasions.

“I know you care about them and under different circumstances I wouldn’t be opposing you, but we can’t risk anything right now. The media’s attention is already fixated on us, and causing any more publicity like this would draw us even more into the spotlight, and right now we don't need everything we do to be a spectacle for the public to criticize."

It was logical, every single word that ushered past his mouth and Felix knew that. But, he couldn’t help the fire that spread across his entire body, tingling from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers, urging him to do something, anything, calling him to action. He couldn’t take this bureaucracy anymore, following the rules in order to appease the ever critical public and for what? The outcome was always the same in the end, the public always demanding (and never satisfied) for a change, a way to exterminate the vermin that lived in the streets, and they always drew the short-end of the stick. Forced to retreat back into the outskirts of the town, hiding as if they were the ones who committed the sins, while the real demons hide among the general population.

The door slammed closed behind him, the sound echoing slightly in the empty streets of the campus. In wake of your disappearance, it seemed like the student body and the school was taking extra precautions by instilling a mandatory curfew and for once, it seems that the student body was actually complying. Felix scoffed, shoving his hands into his pocket, before turning and taking off in a random direction. He couldn’t think straight, his brain too busy being clouded over by the sheer frustration and anger that he felt. In this moment, he truly understood what it meant to be helpless, and he could earnestly say that it was the worst feeling in the world. The fire inside was itching for him to do something—to take action, but as much as he wanted to, he was completely helpless to the situation at hand.

And for the first time in his life, Lee Felix felt utterly defeated.

eight.

It has been three days since you have gone missing, and he could swear that he was losing his mind. There was nothing, no clues, no witnesses, nothing—as if you had simply disappeared without a trace. By now the campus had returned to a version of normalcy, the streets were no longer empty, the classrooms and dorms repopulated, and the campus seemed to buzz with life once again, which only seemed to enrage the male. He couldn’t understand how everyone could simply pick up and move on, turn a blind eye to the fact that it hasn’t even been a week since your disappearance and suddenly, it was perfectly acceptable for everything to return to normal? No. He wouldn’t stand for this, he couldn’t. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to idly sit by and wait for news to come to him, instead he needed to be proactive—be out there searching and not resting until he brought you back safely.

But, here lies the problem. Felix was floating in the same boat as the detectives, officers and everyone else looking for you, with absolutely no leads on who took you and why. All he could do was rely on his gut instincts, and thus far in life, there wasn’t a time where his gut has ever steered him wrong. Everything about this was pointing to their rival gang Neo Culture Technology, or what they liked to call themselves, NCT. Sure, it was only a hunch that he had, but everything seemed to fall into place around this theory. Exhibit A, they had the means to do it. Saying that they were extremely well funded was an understatement, in more simpler terms, they were loaded. Anything they wanted, they could have just by waving a stack of bills and it was done. Exhibit B, they had the motive to do it. The rivalry between the two gangs was no joking matter, even though they both seemed dominant now, any action was a small enough spark to set the whole rivalry ablaze once again. And he would damned if this wasn’t the signalling flare. Exhibit C, his gut was telling him that this was the answer. Now, there have been many things that Lee Felix has been wrong about in his life, his gut has always steered him in the right direction—and right now, it was practically screaming at him to follow this lead.

However, there was a slight problem and that came in the form of someone named Bang Chan. Felix was explicitly told not to move a muscle, to not do anything that would draw attention to the gang, and rescuing you was bound to blow everything that they have worked so hard for—obliterated due to his selfish desire. But, he couldn’t help himself. What kind of person would he be if he had the chance to possibly save you and instead decided that the reputation of Stray Kids was more valuable. No, if he did that he would embody exactly what society deemed him: a monster.

That’s how he found himself here, somewhere past two in the morning outside one of the many abandoned warehouses in the inner city. It was almost idiotic for him to be here, alone, with no backup and he was certainly a madman to try to even attempt to pull something off like this. The darkness provided a decent cover and gave him the slight element of surprise, but with no windows, it was impossible to actually see if he was walking into a trap. All he was running on was his gut instinct, and while it has never failed him before, there was always a first time for everything.

Bracing himself, he kicked the doors open putting up his fists and readying his stance, prepared for a fight. But, it never came, his posture immediately relaxing as soon as he looked towards the center of the vast room. There you were, bound to a chair with rope and gagged, but otherwise unharmed staring at him with wide eyes. Navigating around the miscellaneous shipping containers and wooden boxes that plagued the room, he ran to you, undoing your gag and began working on the ropes that held your body to the chair.

“I thought you would never find me,” you choked out, your voice hoarse and scratchy. The relief that flooded your body once you saw him almost had tears pooling in your eyes. Suddenly the frigid air of the warehouse didn’t feel that cold anymore, and it was as if all your prayers had finally been answered. Within the next minute, he had freed you from your binds, taking off his leather jacket and draping the article of clothing over your shoulders in an attempt to keep you warm, while wrapping one arm around you and pulling you into his body. Despite all the warmth that he was providing, you were still freezing, and you could barely feel your legs moving as he attempted to guide you out of the warehouse.

You were vaguely aware of him talking, his lips were moving yet, at least to you, it seemed like there was no sound coming out. The blank expression on your features was enough to indicate this fact to him, as he instead tried to navigate you faster through the warehouse. It was obvious that he was worried, it was written all over his face—the way his eyebrows were furrowed, his arm wrapped just a bit too tightly around your shoulders, and the way his other hand kept hovering over his pocket as if he was going to pull a weapon out any minute now. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen your captures in a while, and that probably was not a good thing. It had slipped your mind, but as Felix led you out of the warehouse it seemed to be the only thing on the forefront of your mind.

The feeling of anxiety seemed to crawl up your throat, the thought of being captured again causing a new wave of panic to wash over you. Never have you experienced a situation as horrible as these past few days, and you were not willing to relive this horrifying experience again. With these overwhelming new emotions everything seemed to be too much for you, added onto the sound of distant sounds of sirens and bright spotlights that seemed to dance in front of your field of vision, your body couldn’t hold on any longer as you suddenly collapsed—becoming limp in the arms of your savior.

It took a second for Felix to adjust your newfound weight in his arms, grunting slightly as he picked you up and began carrying you through the open doors of the warehouse and was met with a swarm of police cars and officers with their guns drawn directly at him.

Fuck, what did he manage to get himself into?

nine.

Felix knew that he wasn’t supposed to be here, but then again, when has he ever followed directions? Hospitals were never his favorite place, and in all honesty, he tended to avoid them when he could, the sterile and cleanliness smell from them making him feel as if he was choking on a gallon of hand sanitizer. But, at the moment, he was here of his own free will—lurking around the corridors of the building for something specific. It was obvious that he stuck out like a sore thumb, his dark clothing standing out against the cleanliness white background, but for some reason no one seemed to pay him any attention. Instead, every nurse, doctor, and patient were too preoccupied with their own tasks, far too busy to pay him any mind.

Rounding the corner with his hands tucked deep into his pockets, his eyes scanned the halls of the hospital before landing on a specific room, PATIENT ROOM 325. He glanced to the left, then to the right, and after making sure that no one was around, he pulled the handle of the door and opened it just enough to slip into the room.

It was dark, and the only light came from the open windows in front of him, casting a soft glow. The full moon hung brightly in the sky and the stars were on full display tonight, and it would have been a beautiful sight if he wasn’t focused on something else. A couple of feet away from the window was a stereotypical hospital bed, or what he could assume was a hospital bed, with the curtains drawn around it. There was no other noise in the room besides the faint hum of a few machines by the bedside and the occasional sound of crickets from outside, which caused him to question if there was perhaps anybody in the room.

Taking another step forward, he reached forward and grabbed one side of the curtain, prepared to see who (if anybody) was lying in the bed. However, a voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

“You know we’re supposed to stay away from each other.” The voice was hoarse, but still recognizable, and his heart clenched at the sound. He stepped forward, grasping at the curtain in front of him, his knuckles turning white from how firmly he was gripping the material. There was an internal war raging inside of him, trying to decide if he could even bear to see you in your current state. However, he soon decided against his current judgement and before he could reason against himself, he yanked the curtains aside to reveal the sight of you before him.

In all honesty, you could have fared worse from the whole ordeal, but you managed to only make it out with slight dehydration and some minor cuts and bruising. Nevertheless, Felix’s breath hitched at the sight of you as he slowly approached the side of your bed. Even with your hair a mess, the prominent bags underneath your eyes, and a small but tired smile, he couldn’t help but think that you were the most beautiful person that he has ever laid eyes on.

“You’re doing it again,” you purse your lips, your eyes narrowing as you drink in his figure in the moonlight.

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me like I hung both the moon and the stars in the sky.”

He was thankful for the dimness of the room to conceal the flush of his cheeks. Approaching your bedside, he sat at the very edge of the bed, almost afraid to get any closer, as if one slight movement would break you. The both of you soon fell into a comfortable silence, but there was a slight amount of awkward tension that hung in the air. You wanted to tell him so many things, spend the rest of your lifetime apologizing for dragging him into this mess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a word—everything you want to say sitting heavily on your tongue. Instead, you gingerly moved your hand to brush over his own and let it rest on top of his own as he interlocked your fingers together. There it was, a silent conversation exchanged between the two of you, and when you gave his hand a long squeeze, he gave you a small squeeze back.

There were sounds coming from outside of your room, the sound of low chatter followed by the brisk footsteps was enough for Felix to recoil his hand abruptly and to stand suddenly. It was the cold wave of reality raining down on the both of you, that he shouldn’t be here and you shouldn’t be seeing someone like him.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right, all of this wasn’t your fault,” you muttered, choking back tears. You reached up to grab his hand once again, feeling his body slightly tense up at your touch. This was a cruel world and the two of you were simply living proof of that statement, unable to change your fate and the bad luck that came with it. Ultimately, the entire plot was an elaborate plan by Stray Kids’ rival gang in order to draw attention to them at that prestigious school and keep the gang in the limelight to distract from the nefarious activities executed by NCT. And for the most part, while it seemed like everything turned out alright in the end, there were consequences that needed to be paid.

After spending some long hours in the police station, Felix was finally released after being found innocent of any involvement in your attack. Not only did he earn a complete berating from Chan, but he was also banned from seeing you, and if he was caught well, the wrath of Chan was going to come raining down on him once more. But for you he was willing to risk it, you were different from every other risk that he has ever taken in his life, and if he was being completely honest, you were the best one. And he would like to think that he could one day reap the rewards.

You on the other hand, were rushed to the hospital where you were met with your parents on the phone, demanding lawyers and the police enforcement catch whoever did this to their child. Immediately they blamed Felix, and would not listen to a single word you said defending him. Their minds were already made up, and in their minds he had tainted you—changed you from their perfect and lovely child, into someone just like them.

“You can’t change my mind, sweetheart, my decision is final,” your mother declares, shuffling around the hospital room, rearranging your items that were haphazardly thrown around the room. Your dad stood in the corner with his arms folded across his chest, not uttering a word against your mother’s declaration.

“You want me to move halfway across the world after I’ve gotten into the most prestigious university here, and you’re telling me not to be upset?” you throw up your hands in exasperation, sitting up in the bed.

Your sudden outburst caused your mother to stop in her tracks, before taking three steps closer towards your bed, until she was only a few feet away. Her eyebrows were scrunched together, the look in her eyes was enough to send chills down your spine, and the snarl sitting on her lips let you know that you were about to be in a deep pile of shit.

“[Y/N], I’m going to tell you once more and after that I don’t want to hear any more complaints from you anymore, understand? We are all moving to America and away from this wretched place and that’s final,” she spat at you, before turning away and resumed tidying the room, “you need a fresh start away from this tainted place, I mean, look at what you’ve become—infected by those vermin, and look what they turned you into! A fresh start will be good for all of us, and maybe finally getting away from those despicable people can you finally return to how you were.”

Your mother was never a woman who actively changed her mind once it was set on something, and her latest decision was no different. Everything was practically being finalized as you and Felix both, the entire house being condensed into cardboard boxes then placed on a plane to go to America, and you were going to join them in a few days.

“You should probably get back soon,” your voice was barely above a whisper and if it was any quieter the strawberry blond would have missed everything that you had uttered. HIs jaw visibly clenched at your words, his face turned away from you so you couldn’t see the internal turmoil that was written across his features—eyebrows furrowed, a deep frown sitting on his lips and a storm brewing within his brown eyes. “I don’t want to get you into more trouble than I already have.”

“And what if I don’t want to go?”

He turned around to face you, his usually warm brown eyes now ablaze, and you could only describe the expression on his face as the most passionate that you have ever seen him. Reaching out for your hand, he grasped it, intertwining his fingers with your own and gripping onto you as if his life depended on it.

“Please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” you turned your head away from him, feeling tears fighting to spill over. He didn’t need to see you like this and it would only make it harder to say goodbye. With one blink, the tears start falling, cascading down your cheeks before dribbling down onto the sterile hospital sheets below.

Felix couldn’t help but feel his heart break at the sight, and instead opted to gingerly pull you into his arms. Your head rested against his chest, your tears soaking his shirt and sobs wracking your body as he patted your back soothingly. He wasn’t sure how long the two of you stayed there like it, but it was only until your sobs had turned into quiet sniffles and your tears had almost ceased.

“I don’t know what the future will hold for the both of us, but I promise you, I will find you. I don’t care how long it will take, but someday I will make my way back to you,” his voice was soft, the softest that you have ever heard from him, but instead of feeling the usual comfort from his words, you couldn’t help but feel a cold sense of dread wash over you.

“You shouldn’t make promises that you can’t keep,” you muttered. His body stiffened at your words, and it was as if the confusion was radiating off of him, and it was only when you pulled your body away could you really see his face.

ten.

Bidding goodbye to some of your classmates, you readjusted your backpack before walking out of the cafe and into the busy street. America was certainly nothing like you could have ever imagined, in more ways than one it was similar to the city that you grew up, but completely different at the same time. In the six months that you have been here, you have adjusted to the best of your ability. Everything from the culture to the language, at first completely baffled you, but as you listened to the locals aimlessly chat amongst themselves as you walked down the sidewalk, you couldn’t help but feel as if you fit right in.

The sun was high in the sky, the warm rays shining down on you, as you carefully slipped your sunglasses over your eyes and continued walking. In the distance, you faintly heard the sound of a motorcycle roaring in the distance. The revving of the engine continues to get louder, until you one zoom past you and continue on towards the highway. Not that it mattered, but you couldn’t make out the driver behind the tinted helmet, and for some reason that caused the ache in your heart to return.

You paused for a second, just as the pedestrian signal turned green, allowing you to cross the street. Around you people moved forward, carrying on with their conversations, but you were frozen on one side of the street. And suddenly you were back in there all over again, the familiar feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist, the melodic sound of his laughter ringing in your ears, and the stupidly cute smile that always seemed to grace his lips whenever you were around. Every memory about him seemed to crash over you, until you were drowning in a sea of moments where you could never return.

Your heart clenched at the thought, and briefly you allowed yourself to wonder about him. Over the months that you have spent here, you have repressed every thought about him. In the beginning everything reminded you of him, he was everywhere, and nowhere at the same time. However, as time went on, it became easier. You made new friends, went to new places, and slowly but surely you started to accept that this was the way that things were—and you were coming to terms with your newfound reality. But sometimes you days like these happen, and you’re suddenly crippled with the thought of him.

However, you are instead learning how to swim, and managing to stay afloat in the ocean of memories. You were learning to breathe without him by your side. You exhaled, releasing a shaky breath, before refocusing on the crosswalk in front of you. Looking both ways and making sure that the light was green, you continued walking—one foot in front of the other.

You were grateful that he walked into your life. He taught you lessons that you could have never learned on your own, and gave you memories that you would never trade for the world. In the end, while it was never meant to be, you would never forget the taste of the fruit that you were never meant to have—the irresistible sweetness of a boy named Lee Felix.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #districtninewriters #sk imagines #sk scenarios #skz #stray kids #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix imagines #my writing

224 notes · View notes

diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

* ⚠️ Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of sex. A little fluff. People drinking alcohol. ⚠️ This one shot was never meant to be a series. All of your love and appreciation spurred me in to write more. Hope you like this chapter. I cried while I was writing it. Part 5 is the finale.

Plain Gold Ring IV:

You Don’t Know What Love Is

“How could you know how lips hurt

'Till you've kissed and had to pay the cost

Baby, 'till you've flipped your heart and you have lost

You don't know what love is” Nina Simone

———————————————————————

Being on the board of your firm’s charity gala was a huge deal. On top of your normal duties you were in charge of the silent auction. The final auction items had all arrived and you had been busy categorizing everything and preparing for the night that you barely have time to focus on the Andy and Lori situation.

Not that it wasn’t grating on your last nerve. You were so short with everyone at work that it was becoming a problem. Stan had to have a talk with you. You just had to focus and get through this event.

Andy helped as much as he could. He was supportive when you were frustrated and quickly learned when to back off. Sometimes you were up until the wee hours he would literally drag you to bed. He knew how to keep your mind off of work for a while.

You were so busy that you hadn’t even purchased a dress. You and Liz went shopping after work. She was the only person to know about you and Andy.

“What do you think of this one? Think Andy will like it?” You wore a black long sleeved gown with a v that went down to right above your belly button and a slit up to your mid thigh.

“I mean, I’d fuck you.” she deadpanned. This was the dress. You would be comfortable in it all night. You also looked like a powerful bitch who would slit your throat.

———————————————————————

You had to be at the site earlier than the guests so you did your hair and most of your makeup at home. Andy had not seen your dress on purpose. You wanted him to see you when he walked in with Lori. Your petty brain was on overdrive.

“Well you look great” Andy said pointing to your sweats.

“Shush. I’m not putting on my dress and heels until the last second. I pressed your shirt it’s hanging in your closet. I also picked up your tux from the cleaners.”

He slid his arms around you and looked at you in the mirror. “Why are you so good to me?” His hands roamed your body and made contact with your bare skin under your tshirt.

“I am gonna be late.” You swatted his hands away.

“You have four hours. Didn’t you hire party planners?”

“Yes. I still need to get my nails done and set up the auction. You can have your way with me later.”

“But I want to now” he whined. “Please. I’ll be really quick.”

You giggled , “Sounds really fun for me. You know I would never ever miss an opportunity to cum all over your cock…” your face was so close to his your lips were nearly touching. Your hands were on his chest. His were on your hips pulling you closer. “But I have to go. Bye, baby.”

“Tease! You’ll pay for that.” he called after you.

You winked at him as you headed out of the door, “I certainly hope so.”

All Andy could do was laugh. He wished he could spend this evening whisking you around the dance floor. He couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you would look tonight.

In two days you would be on your way to Chicago. The movers were already on the way with your furniture. Your suitcase was in the process of being packed. He hated it. He was taking a long weekend to help you get settled. By Wednesday morning you would have to say goodbye. His heart broke a little every time he thought about it. Every single day he wanted to say he loved you. He was reluctant to ruin what you had knowing there was no way around the inevitable.

———————————————————————

Everything was set. The only thing left was for you to get dressed. You re-sprayed your hair and put on your jewelry. You spritzed Chanel over your wrists neck and cleavage. Last thing was to coat your lips in a matte oxblood to match your nails. You looked sleek and downright terrifying. Just as you planned.

“They just walked in.” Liz whispered from the doorway.

“How does she look?”

“Pretty and appropriate.”

“How do I look?”

“Like a bad bitch. Let’s go.”

You walked out with your shoulders back and your head high. You made sure the gown swished enough to expose your legs and the impossibly high heels you wore. Andy saw you from across the room and stopped dead in his tracks. You looked like you were walking in slow motion. He almost dropped his drink.

You made a b line for Stan and his wife Elaine who were standing directly behind the other couple. He smelled your perfume wafting off of you when you walked by. He almost lost it right there.

“Y/N! What a knockout. Elaine, isn’t she gorgeous?” You kissed his cheek with the side of your mouth careful not to smear your lipstick.

“Christ, Stan. Keep it in your pants. You look beautiful, honey.”

“Thank you, Elaine. So good to see you. Lovely as always.”

“Thank you, dear. Now how is it possible you are here without a date? Stan, you work the poor thing so much she can’t even find a man. That’s why she’s leaving you.”

“And for many other reasons” you joked. You were very much aware that Andy was behind you. “Elaine have you met Andy and Lori Barber?”

You took Lori’s hand and ushered them over. “No, I haven’t. So nice to finally meet you.”

“You get to know each other. I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get anyone anything?” Such a good hostess.

“I’d love a scotch. Elaine wine?” She nodded.

“Andy?”

“You won’t be able to carry all of those drinks. Let me come with you.” Andy patted Lori on the arm. “I’ll be right back.” When you were far enough away he took a long look at you. “How long til I get to rip that dress off of you?”

Your cheeks heated, “You won’t be ripping anything. This dress cost a fortune. It’s far too pretty to ruin especially with panty lines.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna ruin that pussy.”

“Promises promises, Mr. Barber.” He groaned and adjusted his pants.

“Such a tease.”

You delivered the drinks and excused yourself. For the rest of the night Andy only caught glimpses of you. He tried not to make it obvious but Lori could see. Once upon a time he looked at her like that. Except the way he looked at you was a look of complete adoration.

You tried avoiding the Barbers all night. The whole time Andy schmoozed and did his Andy thing, his arm was around her waist. She kept her hand on his chest. They were always finding little ways to touch each other. When he kissed her temple you nearly broke the clipboard you were holding.

Stan stood next to you draining his fourth drink, “You ok there, champ? Sweet couple aren’t they?”

“Yeah. They’re adorable.” You slammed the rest of your Old Fashion.

“Reminds me of me and Katherine . Remember Katherine?”

“Was she your second or third wife? I don’t remember.” Your words were dripping with sarcasm.

“Second. Every time we had one of these things Katherine was on my arm. She was great at this shit. She’d chat it up with the partner’s wives earning me brownie points while I fucked Elaine’s brains out in the John. Know why I married Elaine? She was the best goddamn litigator I’d ever seen. Gets my dick hard every time I think about it. She lit a fire in me that couldn’t be stoked. Kind of like you do for Andy.”

You blanched, “What do you mean?”

“Oh save it. I know you’re fucking. The whole office does. I see how he looks at you. But you can’t see how you look at him. Don’t let the act fool you. He’s stupid for you. Let me keep him for a couple of months before you move him to Chicago ok? He can make us some serious money.” He patted you on the ass and went back to Elaine. She was waiting for him with a big smile that he drunkenly devoured.

———————————————————————

The band started playing. When a slow song came on Lori took Andy’s hand. “Dance with me?”

For possibly the last time he held her. She closed her eyes, rested her head on his shoulder and let him lead her around the dance floor. He wasn’t reciprocating with the same tenderness. His eyes were held on you.

You watched him place his hand on the small of her back. The way he held her hand was a practiced action that he had perfected over sixteen years. When he let himself get lost for just a moment he was overcome with grief for himself and Lori. He pressed a kiss to her lips. Her heart fluttered and she kissed him back. You rushed out of the room when you saw them.

Lori felt her husband’s body stiffen. His hold on her loosened. It felt like he was forcing his body to stay with her. She understood why his mood shifted when she saw you leaving. She looked up at him. His eyebrows were knitted together with worry.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?” she asked quietly.

“A month. Maybe longer.” He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t lie.

“So basically since you left.”

“My second day there. Lori, I’m so sorry. It just happened. I wasn’t looking for anything.”

“No, but you were open to something happening. Does everyone here know? Of course they do. I’m so humiliated. I think I’d like to go home.”

“I’ll get the car.”

“No. I can get myself home. This night is too important for you to leave early.”

“Lori…”

“I don’t want to be around you right now, Andy. I can’t.” She let go of his hand and left. She carried herself with poise and dignity but inside she was dying.

You were nowhere to be found. He spotted Liz who was chatting with some friends. “Where is she?”

“Auctions over. She left.”

“Shit. Thanks.”

“Andy, be gentle with her. Idiots.”

He ran to the valet and jumped in his car to race home. When he got out he noticed a suit case in the back of your car. The elevator was taking forever. He took the stairs two at a time to reach you before you got away.

He heard your heels clacking on the hardwood. Clothes were everywhere. “Y/N?”

“Bedroom.” You were still in your pretty dress. Still all made up throwing things in another suitcase.

“Going somewhere?”

“Hotel.”

“Mind telling me why?” His voice was hoarse like he had been screaming.

“The way you held her…you kissed her.” He grabbed your hands to make you look at him but you yanked them away. “This was stupid. I should have never gotten involved with you in the first place. Married men never leave. Please get out of my way, Andy. I have to go.”

“You think this was a mistake?” Slow tears rolled down his face. He undid his bow tie and sat down. “I don’t. I’m glad we met.”

“Why? Because I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest. So why are you glad?”

“Because you reminded me what it felt like to be cared for. To feel loved. You showed me what I had been missing for a long time now.”

“Happy to have helped.” You continued emptying drawers.

“Please stop packing. Please.” You wouldn’t look at him. He tried grabbing you several times but you moved beyond his reach. “Damn it! Why? Why do you always run when things get hard?”

“I’m not running.”

“No? So Chicago just came up? Or did you put out your resume the second you heard I got the job you wanted?”

Your cheeks heated. “You know how this business works. If I got passed over this time, they’ll keep doing it.”

“Right. And tonight? The second things get weird you run.”

“You kissed her!” You were trying not to cry.

“I know. I was sad. We’ve been Andy and Lori for the majority of our lives. Tonight felt so final. I know we’ll always have Jacob but, there is nothing else there. Please. I am so in love with you. Please.” He dropped to his knees and hugged you tight around your waist.

“Andy, you have to let me go.” He pressed his face into your stomach and broke down. “Andy? Sweetie? Come on. Let go.”

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll let you walk out of that door. I’ll never contact you again. But I know you do.”

“Stop….”

“Aren’t you tired of running?” You were tired. You ran away from your family, former lovers, dead end jobs. You wanted to finally be settled. Leave with a clean break. There was nothing clean about this. If you said you loved him there was no going back. This would be at least three years of a long distance relationship because he won’t leave Jacob. You didn’t want him to leave his son. This would be you exhibiting a level of trust you weren’t sure you had. He fell in love with you so fast. In your absence, what would stop him from falling for someone else? You were so weak when it came to Andy. Fucking perfect at everything Andy fucking Barber. Why couldn’t you shake him? Why couldn’t you just walk away like you have been trying to do since the first time you had sex?

BECAUSE WE LOVE HIM YOU DUMB TWAT. Your brain screamed. You couldn’t make your mouth work. You ran your fingers through his hair, “I love you, Andy.”

He pulled you down onto the floor and kissed you with abandon. “Say that again.” he whispered against your mouth.

“I love you. I love you. God help me, I love you.” A smile was plastered on his face for the rest of the night. Packing could wait.

#andy barber smut #andy barber x y/n #andy barber angst #andy barber #defending jacob

45 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

memories

— Shouto loses his memories, and you can’t do anything but watch as your world falls apart. —

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warning: angst, fluff, cursing

word count: 8,459

a/n: so, I promised i had an amazing idea for an angsty angst, and this is it. I really don’t know how to outdo this. good luck, I cried while writing it :) also italics means its a memory

message to join tag list

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“You need to get here now.”

There were moments in life where things felt like time had slowed down. Moments where you felt like you were moving at an average pace, and yet nothing else was keeping up with you. As a hero, you had these moments on the field, these moments had saved your life countless times, and it was all apart of the adrenaline corroding your veins, but you never experienced it outside the fact. There was no horror when a villain was shooting at you a hundred miles a second, but those words sent ice down your back. Those words held nothing but fear, worry, and pity.

The landline phone dropped from your hands, and it fell in slow motion, your hands grabbing your things, and the door slamming closed behind you. There was nothing but a clattering silence of the phone on the floor and the shuddering door when you left.

The house you left would never be the same, your home would never be the same.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Where is he?!”

Sweat poured down your face, your chest hammering when you entered the waiting room. You hadn’t asked where the room was, or where he was, the call had told you that they were waiting on the eighth floor, ignoring the yells of the nurses you clamored up the stairs like an animal.

There were so many people, people you recognized, people you didn’t, but they were all here for him. It was evident in what they wore, in how they gave you the most regretful look. Your throat tightened, your head shaking when Midoriya approached you.

“He’s in the OR right now,” he says calmly, a soft smile on his face, but you know Midoriya too well. You see how the smile doesn’t light up his green eyes, nor does his voice speak with his usual tone. This was his hero’s voice, the voice he used to calm down victims who had just gone through trauma. “We got here just in time.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” you whisper, your body quivering. Fear was consuming you, making you unhinged, and ready to attack. “What happened to Shouto?”

With a gentle push, Midoriya sat you down on a leather chair, and he slowly explained what had happened.

Severe head trauma. A villain with a quirk that could manipulate the brain’s functionality had attacked Midoriya, Bakugou, and Shouto with the intent to destroy the hero lifestyle. They hadn’t seen a civilian, and the villain took it to his advantage. Shouto had intercepted what should have been a life-ending attack, and now you were sitting in a waiting room with a blanket on your lap that provided no warmth waiting for the OR light to turn off. He needed to live, he had to live.

One hour of waiting turned into twelve hours.

It was now four in the morning, and everyone in the waiting room had fallen asleep. Fuyumi, who had shown up shortly after her school was out, was leaning her head on your shoulder as she slept. You hadn’t eaten in that time, the water bottle in your hand barely touched, and your eyes concentrated on the light, unblinking, unmoving.

“Are you okay?” A voice grumbles. It was Bakugou who most likely hadn’t been able to fall asleep as well. It was thick with needed slumber, uneven with the lack of use.

Your head nodded, your attention still on the light.

“It’s been hours,” you whisper, and you swallow a lump in your throat, more tears threatening to spill over your waterline. “I don’t want them to walk out and see looks of defeat. I want… fuck, I didn’t get to see Shouto. What if this is it? What if I don’t see him again?”

“Don’t fucking talk like that,” he snaps, but his tone isn’t as strong as it usually is. It’s filled with pity, and it hurts your heart even more so. “That bastard won’t die as long as you two have a fucking future together. He’s stronger than that, and you know it, so stop fucking sulking. He’s going to make it.”

There’s a weak laugh, and you roll your head to the side, your eyelids feeling heavy.

“You say that like I-I’m his only reason for living.”

“You might as well fucking be with how much he never shuts up about you,” Bakugou groans. “It’s goddamn disgusting.”

Those words would be reassuring any other day, but right now, they pushed the final bits of your emotions over the edge, and you begin to cry again. You sit there, tears streaming down your face, uncaring about what Bakugou would say about it. You didn’t want things to end between you and Shouto, especially not in this way. Not when the two of you spent countless nights talking about your future, planning a life together that seemed disastrously picture perfect. But it was fun imagining the life you could have together, especially since Shouto agreed with every stupid little thing you said.

“I don’t want to lose him,” you plea to anyone and anything that would listen and help you.

The light turned off.

Your body jerked up, your voice letting out a squeak that seemed to remain trapped in your throat. Fuyumi grunted at your side, and through the corner of your eyes, you saw Bakugou stand up too.

Walking out of the room, a team of doctors walked out. Fatigue heavy in their steps, exhaustion evident on their faces.

“I’m assuming you’re here for patient Todoroki,” the surgeon you assumed was heading the case spoke; a tired and tight-lipped smile on his face. “He’s going to make it, but there was significant head trauma. We do not know what the boundaries are from it, we are waiting for him to wake up, but he’ll be in his room now.”

Relief flooded your body, drowning you quickly, and you crumbled to the floor weeping. He was okay.

He was alive.

Shouto was still here.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You sat at Shouto’s bedside.

His eyes were closed, shut to the world around him. His red and white hair was shaggier now, his current hairstyle pressed into his eyelids. The scar on his eye even looked paler on his body, and he looked malnourished. But he was alive, he was here.

Your hand held onto his, your thumb stroked his knuckles. He had been asleep for about a week now, he had been waking up for about two minutes every ten hours to eat and drink something. You had only been here to see it once, the other times you had been at work. You, unfortunately, couldn’t get yourself time off to be here with Shouto, at least not until he needed help at home.

You sighed, your head pressing into the mattress of the hospital bed. You were bored and tired, the emotional toll of this situation was really hitting hard, but you needed to stay awake just in case he woke up for good.

“Hi, y/n-chan,” a quiet yet warm voice spoke from the doorway. Your head shot up to see Rei standing there. A basket of fruit in her hands, and a warm and weathered smile on her face. Her white hair was twisted up, her clothes fresh and pressed. She looked much more put together than you were at the moment.

“Rei-san,” you greeted, you stood up, bowing at your boyfriend’s mother, who then embraced you in a hug.

The two of you talked silently, and you gave Rei the seat by Shouto’s side, her hands gently holding onto his forearm as she spoke. You discussed how things were going on at work. How you were feeling about this situation, and you did the same with her. She explained that Natsuo and Fuyumi would be joining her later, and if you wanted to join them for dinner afterward, that was highly encouraged.

You smiled widely, your body at ease while you talked with Rei, her soothing aura helping you in this time of need despite it being her son. She relayed stories of Shouto as a child, tales you weren’t that familiar with since Shouto had no recollection of them. They helped your aching soul.

“M-Mom?”

The two of you froze, and both your attentions were drawn to Shouto. His eyes were barely cracked open, the grey and turquoise color burning into you despite their attention, not on you. Shouto’s eyes closed, a grunt escaping his lips, and he shifted in the bed.

“Hi, Shoucchan,” Rei gasped, her mouth filling with a watery grin, and your heart pounded in your ears. He was awake.

Not wanting to intrude on Shouto taking notice of his mom first, you hit the red button to inform the nurses of Shouto being awake and cognitive. There’s a warmth in your body again, happiness leaking into your veins at the knowledge that Shouto was back. Staying quiet, you stood up, seeing nurses and doctors coming towards the room. Charts and data in their hands.

“What are y-you doing here?”

“You’re hurt in the hospital, why wouldn’t I be here?”

You let the medic team in, but there was something that Shouto said that made you freeze. His voice is raspy, nearly unusable from three weeks of no use, but there is no hint of a lie in his tone.

“Because… you’re supposed to be in a hospital, too.”

“What?”

Staring at Shouto, your eyebrows scrunched together, and your head tilted. Shouto finally took his gaze to you, his eyes cold, uncaring, unknowing.

“Who the hell are you?”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“It’s traumatic amnesia,” the doctor sighed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “We noticed a slight swell in the hippocampus area when doing the surgery, but it wasn’t anything abnormal for concussed patients.”

Your eyes trailed from the doctor to the window in Shouto’s room. A group of nurses was administering a set of tests. Examining where he was cognitively, physically, and emotionally.

“Despite what you may think, amnesia is rare. There are less than five cases for every 100,000 individuals, and most cases involve patients in higher ages. Patient Todoroki is still young, and a skilled hero at that… there’s no saying in what will happen.”

They spoke, but their words were barely registering in your mind. Your attention was too focused on Shouto. Too worried and stressed about what was to happen from here on out.

Shouto’s face was reminiscent of your high school days, reserved, quiet, and with underlying displaced anger. He was ignorant to the way the nurses stared at his body, the lingering touches, and the most obvious flirting. His shirt had been removed for whatever reason, and while he was still muscular, he was thinner.

“Do you have a sense as to where he is with his memories?” Rei asked, her hands clasping tightly together, worry and discomfort heavy in her features.

“Well, considering that he didn’t recognize Y/l/n-san, I’m going to say that he can only seem to remember up until he was fifteen.”

Fifteen.

You met Shouto when you were fifteen. He was a whole other person, someone that no longer existed. But you were now twenty-three, the world finally being made to your manipulation, not the will of others. So much had changed between then and now; all you knew is that you were a stranger to him.

He was a stranger to you.

“But it is traumatic amnesia,” the doctor smiled, a smile gesture of confidence and hope. “Most individuals will always regain their full memory, and better yet, there are things you can do to get him back into the flow of things.”

“What do we need to do?” Rei inquired, a palpable tension melting off her body.

You froze when Shouto’s eyes locked on yours, his eyes were unwavering, almost challenging you to look away. It made your stomach twist, habits from his fifteen-year-old self were foreign and strange on him now. It made your eyes drop, and you turned towards the doctor and Rei, who were looking at you expectantly.

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologized, your eyesight falling to your feet. “I didn’t hear that last part.”

“We think that a good thing for restoring his memories is having him go through his normal routine, outside of his workdays at least. Having him stay in his regular space, hanging out with his usual friends, eating the same things. To refamiliarize himself with what he was familiar with. It can help unlock those memories.”

You nodded your head, your throat clearing.

“I can do that.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Welcome home,” you spoke, throwing open the door to the apartment that you and Shouto shared together. Despite everything, he didn’t trust you in the slightest.

He refused to speak to you unless necessary. He didn’t ask you questions, he refused to let you explain anything to him, and he didn’t like walking ahead of you. He was cautious, calculating, and deadly. You weren’t used to having him on the defensive with you, and to be honest, you hated the way he seemed to view you as a threat.

But on the other hand, you didn’t blame him.

He thought he was fifteen years old, it was cruel to wake up suddenly eight years older to people that would never be in his room, to begin with. But even if your rationality told you to not care, it still stung when he refused to be at ease around you.

“This is our place,” you explained, your hands showing off the decorated hallway.

The walls were filled with photos of you and him, friends, family, and all achievements. There was no order to it, only uncontrolled chaos because when you first started arranging them, Shouto had messed up. Somehow he had destroyed the lineout you had explained to him, and as you howled with laughter while he attempted to make the disastrous arrangement better, he had also begun to crack with laughter.

The presentation of the pictures was in no way shape or form beautiful, it was ugly and chaotic, but the two of you loved it. You remember crying into his shirt, your laughter overwhelming you, and Shouto barely keeping you on your feet because he too was weak with laughter. You didn’t stand a chance the second his mouth pressed against yours. That night the two of you agreed to keep the disastrous presentation up, and the giggles of the event could be heard for miles.

“Is it supposed to look like that? It’s ugly,” Shouto surmised, his eyes focused on the pictures, and you felt your heart drop.

Oh.

“It was a creative choice,” you smile in response, trying to not ruin the good memory with this one. You placed your bag on the kitchen table, taking out the pills that Shouto was supposed to take daily. “Um, I’ll show you around.”

So the two of you walked around the apartment. You explained where everything was, your hands opening a countless number of drawers telling where plates, cups, bowls, and utensils were. You showed Shouto the cabinets with the food and the closets where you stored winter clothes. The bathroom came; next, you showed him what shampoo he used, the conditioner he had, and the body wash he liked. You pointed out his toothbrush and toothpaste, then pulled out a razor and scissors.

The bedroom was last.

You pushed open the door to the bed that sat in the middle of the room. It was neatly made, with your things flowing over onto Shouto’s side of the bed. The restless week of not having him here and caused many a night of you curled onto his side of the bed, falling asleep to his scent that was ingrained into his pillow.

You slept on the left side of the bed, and Shouto slept on the right. It was a decision the two of you made months before you officially moved in together. You both had argued about wanting the left side, and both of you were stubborn as fuck. You remember staring him down, your point of being the little spoon far more often than he was your most strong point.

~ You both enjoyed to lay onto your left shoulder; with you on the left side, it would allow for the most exceptional comfort for both of you. You remember wagging your finger in front of his face, and him swatting it out of the way, his nose scrunched from your hard jabs to his face. It was then that he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. You screamed, his body falling onto the mattress, and you landed on his chest. Your hands pressed against his warm chest, and he looked fondly up at you.

“I’ll take the right side, only if you kiss me goodnight every night,” he whispered, his fingers brushing through your hair. “And if you promise to sleep like this on occasion. Cuddling makes my arm go numb.”

Your face evolved into a face splitting smile, and you nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I promise.” ~

“I would never sleep on the right side,” he inputted, walking towards the right side of the bed. His eyes taking in every detail presented on the nightstand. “This room is a bit messy, and I don’t like the western style to it.”

Your eyes fluttered, the forgotten memories of the traditional Japanese style he used to replicate immediately popping back into your head.

“Oh, um… if it makes things easier for you, we can put in a futon?” You try to compromise, your chest tightening at the fact that he hated the layout. You knew it wasn’t him saying it, but it was him. It used to be him.

Did he always hate things like this and just chose not to tell you anything?

Shaking your head, you suppressed the insecurities that ate away at you, there was no point in fretting over his opinions that no longer held. This was him as a fifteen-year-old, he was no longer this person.

“We decided on that a while ago,” you reasoned, your arms folding across your chest, and you watched with curious eyes when he turned towards you and began walking towards you.

By instinct and pure muscle memory, your arms stretched up, ready to embrace him in a hug. But the look of confusion, distrust, and dislike that filled his face made you retract back into yourself, an acidic taste at the back of your throat. When they said to introduce him to his old routine, you had no idea how much of his old method you were supposed to enforce.

Good-morning kisses? The late-night cuddles? Were you supposed to be intimate at all? Or just some background character ordering him around, erasing and ignoring his autonomy, the autonomy that made him want to be anywhere but here it seemed.

“What time do I go to bed?” He asks, his hands slipping into his pockets. His gaze was unnerving, a chilling reminder of the familiar stranger before you. “What time do I wake up? Do I still train in the mornings?”

You swallowed the prickle in your throat, your fingers brushing aside your hair, and you nodded your head. “You’re always in bed by midnight when you don’t have work the next day, but the time you actually sleep varies from midnight to four in the morning. You wake up whenever you feel like it, but are always out of bed by eleven. And on occasion, you work out in the morning, although you can’t be doing anything too crazy yet.”

Shouto didn’t seem impressed.

“If you have any questions, you know you’re more than welcomed to ask me.”

“I know,” he answers, his hand pushing through his hair, his shoulders shrugging. “I just don’t see how I can trust you with anything. Besides, I don’t see how I could be attracted to you.”

There were moments in life where you could feel your soul being crushed to a powder, and this was by far the hardest thing you’ve experienced.

“It’s truly a mystery,” you smile, thin-lipped and stiff. “But I do understand how this can be a complete shock, and that it’s a lot. We all have different coping methods, and that’s okay. You very obviously do not like me, and that’s okay… the regular routine of your sleeping schedule does include me sleeping with you, but since you don’t… l-like me, I’ll take the couch…”

You didn’t wait for a response, your head dropping low so that your hair covered your eyes, and you pulled out your pajamas with no issues. The room was silent, the squeaking floorboards and sliding drawers being the only noise echoing in the room. As you left the room, your voice called out one more time.

“Goodnight.”

The couch was comfy thankfully, and as you changed into your pajamas out in the open, uncaring if Shouto walked out, not that he would, you remembered the night before the injury.

~ You sat on the couch, your knees tucked under your chin, your fingers punching the channel button, desperately trying to find something to watch.

“You find anything yet?” Shouto asked, and you groaned when he chose to sit beside you, his hands dragging you onto his lap. You giggled, burying your head into his neck, a noise escaping your lips, telling him that you had not found anything to watch. “Mm, that sucks.”

Scoffing, you pulled away from him, your nose scrunched up at him, “It’s not my fault there’s so much on. What if I pick the wrong movie and watch something lame without my consent?”

“We can read the reviews before selecting anything then. To really get a feeling as to what we’re watching.”

You hum, the corners of your lips twitching up into a coy smile. You continued to fondly stare at him, and you brought him in for a sweet kiss.

The remote in your hand was quickly forgotten, and you rejoiced when he returned your sweet kiss with much more passion than you had asked for. His fingers held your waist, massaging soft circles into your exposed skin. Your noises were breathless, and soon enough, you found yourself being pressed onto the couch, your eyes fluttering open when his intoxicating mouth left yours.

“Fuck,” he sighs, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Shouto,” you groan, your face feeling like it was on fire, and you tried to bring him back down to resume kissing. You knew he had work tomorrow, so you wanted to live the best of the dying time together.

“No, really,” he insists, his finger gently caressing your cheeks. You felt frozen while you looked up at him, “You’re breathtaking. You’re strong, kind, resilient, an amazing person, and you fuck me up in the best way, y/n. I love how you always eat hot soup and will cry for minutes afterward for scalding your tongue, I love when you come home from a long day at work and just fall on your face. I love when you join me in the shower just to make the worlds longest bubble mohawk, and when you come over for lunch during weeks where we hardly have one on one time… I love you so much.”

There was a small whimper that escaped your lips, tears clouding your vision, and you laughed.

“Kiss me, you idiot.” ~

You gasped for air, silent sobs wrecking your body, and you held your arms around you. The words he used to attack you earlier, corroded your soul and left the taste of bile on your tongue. You had him back, but this wasn’t him. Where was he?

When were you going to get your Shouto back?

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“WELCOME BACK!”

Your smile grew when you looked at your friends who popped out from behind the wall. Well, at least the ones who would do that, Bakugou and Tokoyami remained sitting on their seats, but they at least expressed their versions of excitement to seeing you and Shouto walk in.

It was seven days after Shouto had been released from the hospital, but the relationship between the two of you had not improved even a drop. He didn’t trust you, his eyes hardening whenever you attempted to instruct him around. But you knew that the curiosity of who he was had caught up, but he refused to ask you these questions. Shouto asked every question he had online, resulting to gossip tabloids and youtube videos to figure out who he was.

The only thing he had asked you was the truth about his fire: if he actually did use it. You had been sitting on the couch, your blankets and pillows scattered everywhere. The sofa was comfortable, and all, but your body craved to be curled up by his side, not here. You responded with a straight face that he did use his fire. But it wasn’t an answer he wanted to hear, his upper lip curling into a snarl before he turned onto his heel and left.

But it was a week now, a week of Shouto being cognitively functional. The doctors assured you that this was not abnormal to keep Shouto on this routine. However, it was easier said than done, primarily when Shouto had managed to get his body back to normal in six days and now wanted to start training again.

For now, and with the suggestion of the doctor, you brought him somewhere outside of his typical routine. A Class 1-A hot pot dinner!

You embraced your fellow classmates, your smile tight, your answers avoidant when they asked on how your relationship was going. It didn’t matter how it was going; after all, if this was temporary, you could handle this cold attitude. You knew he would apologize for it, but you had to remain resilient.

You sat down between Mina and Uraraka, the two girls holding your elbows, trying to extract as much information out of you as they could. Their words fall deaf on your ears though, your attention focused on the way that Shouto quickly talks with Momo, Midoriya, and Bakugou. His face is no longer convoluted with that underlying anger; you did nothing to ease, and there’s a small smile on his face.

Just because the man before you wasn’t the same man you knew didn’t mean you couldn’t read him like a book still. He was happy, genuinely happy. There was no fear, no hesitation, no suspicion.

There was something bitter that flashed through you; jealousy and corrupt sadness flooded your veins at the way Shouto stared at Momo, who laughed easily. You recognized that stare on Shouto without a doubt, and your shoulders deflated a bit, your focus returning back onto the two girls beside you.

“Y/n!”

“I’m sorry,” you laugh, your body battling the tears that threaten to pool in your eyes. “I didn’t catch that…”

“We asked if he has fallen back head over heels for you again!” Mina asked, her voice at her usual volume, but worry and pity were biting at her tone.

“Yeah, the last time we got hot pot as a whole group, the two of you had announced you were dating!”

It was as if that unlocked a memory from you, as if you were the amnesia patient and not Shouto, and you recalled that night a few years ago.

~ “Hi,” you croak with a smile, your hand holding Shouto’s. Somehow the two of you were the last to arrive, and your fingers began to sweat when your nineteen friends zeroed in on your hand in Shouto’s. Despite your instinct to immediately tear your hand away from his, Shouto held your hand tighter, his thumb tracing your knuckles.

“We’re dating,” Shouto announced a smile on his face that was directed at you.

You bit down on your lip, your gaze moving to meet his, and you snort shoving him with your shoulder. But your old class explodes in screams, arms grabbing you away from Shouto despite his best efforts to keep you near. Hands hold your arms, and you’re suddenly sitting down between Uraraka and Mina, who are screaming for details.

But you look up at where Shouto is. He’s talking with Momo, Midoriya, and Bakugou, his cheeks slightly tinted, and there’s a smile on his face. You feel frozen when he looks over at you, his eyes glowing with thoughts only you could understand, and your smile grows.

“Y/n!”

“Sorry!” you laugh, your stomach flipping with butterflies after you break the gaze with your boyfriend. “I didn’t catch that, what did you ask?” ~

The memory played with your emotions, your shoulders tensing when everyone sat down.

‘He’s happy right now, he’s happy right now, he’s happy right now,’ you mentally chanted, your fingers gripping the skirt of your outfit. You sighed, looking at your friends while Shouto took the seat across from Uraraka.

“Everything’s going well, the heads over heels thing is still a work in progress, haha!”

Fortunately, they don’t press more, Kaminari throwing open the door exclaiming that the dishes were being brought over. But this was a good day, this was a day where Shouto could learn more, and see just how amazing your friends were. You wouldn’t ruin this night because his amnesic ass couldn’t remember who you were and treated you differently due to things not being the same. Eight years changed people, and you couldn’t expect eight years of growth in a matter of seven days.

Grabbing your chopsticks, you faked a bright grin when Kirishima yelled out praise. And so, for the second time at this restaurant, you watched the servers jaw drop to the ground when they saw the twenty-one accomplished Pro Heroes acting like the children you all were. But despite your best attempt to kid around with your friends, you struggled to remain positive.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Two Weeks Later

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You weren’t sure how to explain how things were going.

After the dinner with your friends, Shouto had finally begun to talk to you regularly. He would sit as far away as possible, his arms folded, his gaze averting every few seconds before returning to you. His questions were often surface level and sometimes went more profound than you thought was possible.

He asked about his life outside of you, mostly. Asking for more insight into why he finally decided to use his fire, how he felt towards his family when his mother made a full recovery and particular friendships with the old class.

You did your best to give him the most honest answers, and sometimes you felt like some all-knowing creature with the way he looked at you. It was reminiscent of a child asking an elder things, curious, challenging, unsure. It made you uncomfortable, you just wanted your boyfriend back, but he wasn’t there yet.

At three weeks out of the hospital, he could now recall his memories up until the sports festival during your first year. It was a definite improvement place. It helped him to feel at ease, but not enough where you could feel like you had your boyfriend back, much less your best friend back. And it was an improvement that was made not because of you, but because of someone else — Momo and Midoriya in particular. But it was Sunday night, and you sat on the couch, your fingers flipping the page of the book in your hand.

How you wished your life was a novel, all it took was a love confession, a kiss of true love to break the spell between lovers who had forgotten people. But these novels weren’t written with a lover who had a terrible childhood, who held animosity towards something you no longer knew how to fight.

There was the creaking of the floorboards, and you tore your attention from the book to see Shouto placing a suitcase onto the floor. His face was neutral, and your heart stopped beating when he walked over to you.

He sat on the couch opposing you, his hands resting on his knees.

“I’m going to be moving out,” he informed you, and your will crumbled like that. “It’s not that I haven’t appreciated everything you’ve done because it’s been a lot… but I don’t see how I became the man you talk about. It’s hard to talk to you or be around you because you look at me like I’m doing this on purpose.”

You watch on silently, your gaze falling, your eyebrows scrunching. You couldn’t think, were you always that obvious?

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble, your hands placing your book onto the coffee table. “Um… is there anything I can do for you? Are you moving in with anyone?”

Shouto stared at you, his own eyebrows scrunching, but while yours scrunched in the act of sadness, his was in irritation.

“Get mad at me,” he says.

“I can’t,” you respond.

“I’ve made your life hard for an entire fucking month,” he snaps, his eyes raging yet cold. “You clearly are in love with me, or this person I used to be, and I’m not him! Why don’t you speak what’s on your mind? Tell me when I’m doing things wrong?! Why did you take the couch and never once ask for the bed back? It’s your bed, is it not?”

You shake your head, your heart now pounding so quickly you felt dizzy. This was not happening, this couldn’t be happening.

“It’s not, it’s—”

“Ours.”

He says that in time with yours, and your hands clench into fists.

“I don’t love you. I’m sorry if that’s harsh, or rude, but I don’t. You’re the only person I haven’t been able to click within the beginning the same way I have with others. I haven’t had an issue being friends with other people, so tell me why you’re the only one I can’t even be friends with? It’s pathetic of you to be so insistent on this passive way of approaching me. Because right now, I don’t even value you as a friend. So it just brings me to question if I really loved you?!”

“You did!” You spat, your chest trembling with suppressed rage and sorrow. He had pushed you too much, he went too far, and now you would not be helpful. Your love was real, even if he refused to see it now, it was real, and it was true. “You loved me as much as I loved you! I didn’t ever want to push anything because I don’t know what to do with this situation! I researched everything I could to help you, but everything I did was useless, it was pointless. I get that I’ve been walking on eggshells around you, but what was I supposed to do?! Would you have let me go up to you and hug you whenever I fucking felt like it? How about kiss you?! Would you have seriously let me just hop onto your lap and make out with you whenever I needed distractions?! How would you have reacted if I asked to sleep curled into your chest when you don’t even like me? Or what if I wanted to shower with you in the morning? Or a casual conversation? Because whenever I tried to be just a friend to you, you rejected me! What about fucking sex, Shouto?! Would you have let me fuck you? No, you wouldn’t have! You think this is so fucking hard because you don’t have your memories, but I don’t have my safe zone anymore. I don’t have the person I need the most in my life anymore! I recognize you, I can still read you like a goddamn book, but there’s no p-point because I don’t understand it.”

Your chest is heaving, tears overflowing in your eyes.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” He asks, his eyes ablaze. “I woke up thinking I was fifteen years old, and you had this puppy sick emotion on your face from the first moment. How could I say no to you? Whenever I denied you things, you looked ready to cry. You should’ve just accepted that I’m not the same person that I was and tried to work from there. You’re the one stuck in the past, stuck on this person I’m clearly not anymore. I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not, so do us both a favor and move on.”

“Go fuck yourself, Todoroki,” you hiss, standing up, tears flowing down your blazing cheeks. “I did this because I love you, there is nothing in this goddamn world that I loved more than you. Yeah, I know you don’t want to hear it because emotions make your fifteen-year-old mindset split. Because you don’t 'deserve love and other bullshit excuses.' You don’t recognize who I know you because it took years of fucking work to get you there. It wasn’t a goddamn overnight process. But don’t let me keep you from going, fucking leave this place. I’ll move on just fine, I’ll be just peachy keen. We haven’t been lovers for more than a month, and even though I prayed to whatever I could that you’d wake up from this bullshit one day, I see that it’s probably not going to happen… I love you, I always will, but I can’t do this. I will not be talked to this way, nor will I be attacked in such ways. You’re a victim of some bullshit, but that gives you no fucking right to be an asshole! I hope that you don’t remember anything so that I don’t have to listen to some bullshit apology from you l-later. So do us both a fucking favor and leave.”

There’s only silence, and then a scoff broke it.

You remain frozen in place when Shouto gathers his things and storms out of the apartment, the slamming door echoing in your residence. You lost it then, your wails pouring out of your mouth as you sank to the ground. You lost him.

Your sobs wracked your body until you passed out on the couch, tears, and sorrow staining your face.

When you woke up, your body was in pain. Your neck screaming in pain from the awkward angle it was in. You pushed up off the couch, your body screaming at you, but you could care less, your heart hurt more.

Staggering to your room, you felt odd when you collapsed onto your bed. It had been so long since you lay here, and the scent of his body on the sheets comforted you in the most bittersweet way. Moving your hand, you felt a weird lump in the sheets.

Grunting, you moved the sheets to reveal a small present made out to you. It was from Shouto, and by the looks of it, it was before the injury. Rolling your eyes, you opened the box that fit in the palms of your hands.

Your breathing stopped when you pulled out a delicate crane ornament. It was two interlinked cranes that you had told Shouto you had absolutely loved when window shopping one day, and there it was, delicately resting on your fingers. It hurt more. You hated this. Your fingers pulled out the next object in the box, and your fingers trembled, you sobs caught in your throat at the sight of the shiny engagement ring.

It was a ring you had described to him during a drunken discussion, and it was perfect. You couldn’t keep from crying more, the realization that this was the reason that Shouto left. He left because he was a coward; you knew that now, but you understood entirely now, even if you didn’t agree with it.

What had you done?

What did you do?

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

One Week Later

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Shouto walked around the mostly empty streets of Japan, his hands shoved into his jacket while he strolled. It had been a week since he left, and he could only remember the look of utter betrayal and brokenness on your face. But he had discovered the engagement ring hidden in his underwear drawer when reorganizing his clothes, and he had panicked. His memories weren’t all back. He had no recollection of you, but the idea that he had finally succumbed to someone so lovingly scared him. It worried him how his body remembered you, but his mind didn’t. He knew whenever you needed a kiss or a hug, but his mind kept him from giving you said affection.

That couldn’t be him.

Midoriya had yelled at him for leaving you, especially with the large scene the two of you created. Now he had no idea if he wanted his memories back or not. On the one hand, he wanted to be the man you had obviously known, he wanted to do all of that stupid shit with you, but on the other hand, had he fucked up too much for you to ever forgive him. He felt guilty without his feelings, with the added knowledge of what you two were, it could be catastrophic.

But he had started his hero work again. A month after hospitalization, he was okay’d to begin working. It had genuinely helped in busying his mind during the day and night. Most days he could go the entire length without thinking of your broken expression. But it haunted him. He felt like he didn’t deserve the love you held for him. So he left.

Stopping in front of a large window, his eyes focused onto a ceramic tree with an extensive collection of glass ornaments on it.

His eyes focused in on a prominent part of the tree, an ornament once hung but now was gone. His eyebrows scrunched when he focused in on the tree, his head tilting.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?!” A voice whispered to him, and Shouto snapped his head to where the sound was, only to find no one there.

Wait…

A memory crashed through him.

~ Your hands clutched together, your smile wide while you pointed at the delicate glass cranes. They were one ornament forming a heart shape in their elegant and dainty poses; the setting sun of the day made the glass shimmer and illuminate your face. Shouto could barely tear his attention away from your face. He felt like some love-struck idiot who had barely figured out he was in love.

Your eyes were bright, that love-struck expression on your face that always sent his heart into a soaring mess. He loved the way you rocked on your feet, a small way to show how in love with this ornament you were. But you turned suddenly towards him, and Shouto went unembarrassed when your smile only grew. You had caught him staring, and by the small fluster on your face, he was glad you did catch him.

“Ew, I just caught you staring, how embarrassing,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Shouto snorted, his nose brushing against yours, “No one’s ever embarrassed to look at a masterpiece.”

You groaned, but he felt the heat radiating from your face, and without so much as asking, your lips connected in a sweet embrace. He held you close, your body keeping him close, connected, and needing more. But you pulled away, your teeth pressing into your lower lip, your eyes glazed over in the way they did whenever you kissed.

“I love you,” you mumbled, shoving him away when he chose to laugh at you instead.

“Ew, don’t touch me!” You declared loudly, moving away from his attempt to hold you. Shouto could not help the loving smile on his face while you walked away, your eyes still darting back to him, making sure that he was following after you.

He focused on the cranes in the window, the ones you had fallen in love with, and it hit him then.

When he proposed to you, the cranes would be included.

“Catch up!” You hollered, paces ahead of him now.

Shouto sighed, rolling his eyes playfully at you. With his fingers pressing into the box that remained in his pocket for some time now, he went after you. ~

Shouto’s head pounded, memory after memory flooding into him. So many of them having to do with you, with the way that he had become a better person, a person he never thought he could manage to be with your help. His heart hammered, his breathing unstable when the reality of his actions from last week came crashing in.

Would you forgive him?

His fingers trembled when he pulled out his phone, ready to call you a million times in an attempt to get you to hear him out.

BOOM!

Shouto’s head snapped around, despite the migraine he was experiencing, the billowing smoke and flames made him freeze. The phone in his fingers was thrown back into his pocket. As all heroes do, he took off towards the destruction. You would still be there when he finished this.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Your body convulsed, shooting pains slamming through you in uncontrolled volume. Your eyes focused on the downed Momo, Kirishima, and Mina, your ears were ringing still from the loud explosion, and only one villain remained. His eyes wide, speaking volumes of his insanity, and his eyes a near white from the quirk enhancing drug he had taken.

As you stood, nausea slammed into you, and it took everything in you not to collapse onto your knees and throw back up. Your fists raised into a weak fighting position, your vision swimming despite your steady stance. Keep it together. Keep it together.

Your fist wiped your pounding lip, blood smearing across your dirty fist.

This was your fault.

“You heroes never know when to quit!” He roared, his arms thrown out in a manically glee.

You saw the high energy converging back into his hands, the source of the initial blast, and you threw yourself forward, hoping to intercept this explosion with your body.

But before you could, his body was encased in ice, his hands no longer able to control the energy, and it poofed from existence. Your breathing was ragged, and your eyes followed the trail of ice to where Shouto stood, his eyes wide, staring right at you.

It had been a hard week. With your break up and finding out that he had planned on proposing, you weren’t exactly mentally stable. Your eyes tore from his, staring at the man who had become a jagged ice statue, and you felt uneasy.

“We should be safe,” Shouto told you, and your head nodded numbly, but you didn’t believe him necessarily. “I arrested him months ago; the second you cover his hands, he’s unable to use his quirk.”

You nodded, relief flooding you. You hobbled to your downed friends, checking their pulses, grateful to see that they were alive.

Wait, months ago?!

Your head snapped back at Shouto, your eyes wide, and a broken sob poured from your mouth.

“S-Shouto shut the fuck up… o-oh my god, do you… do you?”

“I remember,” he responded, and your knees buckled, your body falling to the floor. Relief and stricken sadness flooding your body. It didn’t take long for Shouto to be at your side again, his arms enveloping you into a warm hug. His left side was to the frozen criminal, and his right hand cooled your heated body.

You cried into his white t-shirt, your arms pulling him in, you needed him closer.

You missed him.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you sobbed into his neck. “I thought y-you hated me!”

“Princess,” he whispered, his hands soothing you gently, “I was afraid you’d hate me.”

Your head shook, pulling away from him, your cheeks were dirty and wet from your muddied tears.

“I love you...”

“I love you too, y/n... so fucking much,” he whispered, and your heart soared when his hands found a home on your cheeks and drew you close.

Your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for his lips to meet yours, but a thundering scream stopped your impeding mouths. Your vision snapped over to the villain who escaped the ice, his body blue, but trembling in rage.

His hand raised, a gun in it aimed at you, and like weeks before your world slowed down. Fire exploded from the barrel of the gun, and you swore you could see the bullet whizzing towards you. But your limbs were too heavy, and your eyes clenched closed.

But it never hit.

Thud.

“SHOUTO!!!!”

There was no call this time, no warning of what happened. All you knew is that the villain was now buried under ice. But that was the least of your worries.

Shouto’s body slumped against the floor, the most heroic save he could have mustered fulfilled. His eyes were fading, his fingers weakly tracing your face.

“No, no, no,” you sniff, your fingers pressing into the bullet wound that pierced through his chest. “Nonononono, Shouto, no! No! Please don’t — fuck! Please don’t close your eyes, baby, please don’t do this!”

Shouto remained silent, his breathing raspy, short, and shallow. The life in his eyes dimming, but the love that you craved to see for so long was there. Glowing brightly despite the lack of energy in his body.

“Baby!” You shriek, your voice growing more and more desperate. Your hands were pressed against the wound, a vain attempt at getting the bleeding to stop. “Don’t! PLEASE! Stay awake! You’ll be fine! I promise! Just please don’t close your eyes! Not yet! Please don’t go! You finally remember, and I fucking love you! I saw the engagement ring! I want to marry you! Please, you need to fight this! I love you, I love you, please don’t do this!”

Shouto’s hand fell from your face, too weak to keep it up, his blood staining your hands and costume.

“I… I love you,” he whispered. “I’m… s-sorry for what I said… you’re p-perfect… I love you.”

Your eyes widened more and more, tears pouring from your eyes as your lips collided with his cold ones. Once, twice, too many times to count.

He was gone.

There are only a few moments in time where you will indeed hear a sound of utter and complete heartbreak. On this night, this fateful night where Todoroki Shouto was reborn and died, your shattering curled screaming sobs would forever be remembered. Your love was forever, but you would never get to see it last that long.

You loved him, but he was gone.

Now the only thing left of him was in your memories.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki angst #todoroki shouto x reader

2K notes · View notes