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chuluoyi · 4 months

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

10K notes · View notes

bro-atz · 3 months

Text

seeing double

in which: your complicated situationship with your upperclassman gets more complicated thanks to the feelings of an underclassman.

pair: college student!seonghwa/college student!afab!reader/college student!wonbin

word count: 11.1k

content: love triangle, lowkey dramatic, confessions, nicknames (doll, doll face, baby), smut (obvi), fwb (w seonghwa), seonghwa's lowkey a dick, jealousy sex, horny rabbits...?, three different smut scenes omg, slightly drunk make out session, oral sex, threesome, double penetration, safe sex, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: thank you @yunhoszn for helping me w the development of this fic ily babes •///3///• nd honorary dedication to @starryriize bc you chose to torture me w ian reels /j also yes i'm repeating myself w the college trope (nd some of the warnings) but i can't help myself i love college aus

another world masterlist

WONBIN had a massive crush on you. You were smart, beautiful, charismatic— if he believed in love at first sight, it was because of you.

He didn't join the journalism club because of you; the fact that you were the vice president of the club was merely a happy coincidence. Wonbin made sure to never miss a single meeting because the meetings were the only way he got to see you. You were a junior, and he was merely a freshman. He honestly wondered if he even had a chance with you because you were an upperclassman and probably wouldn't go for someone younger than you, but he still wanted to try his luck because, as far as he could tell, you were single.

"Alright, well that concludes this week's meeting. Everyone has their assignments, correct?" you asked as you sorted your papers.

Everyone nodded, but Wonbin's nod was just a little more vigorous.

"Great. Okay, go off, do your thing."

You dismissed everyone, and before Wonbin got out of his chair, you said, "Wait, Wonbin, I need to talk to you."

"Y-Yes?" Wonbin stuttered while praying his voice wouldn't betray him by cracking.

"Your last article was really good, but I'm wondering if we should have you exploring the arts department more."

"What do you mean?"

"You have a clear passion for theater and musicals, so if you would like, you can focus on the school performances instead of being assigned to whatever's left," you explained.

"You mean like... I get my own column?"

"Yep— Only if you want it, though!" you clarified.

"No, I really do want it! Thank you so much!" Wonbin said excitedly while bowing gratefully.

The thing was that only upperclassmen got their own section, and all of the underclassmen picked up random scraps here and there, so the fact that Wonbin was getting offered this chance was incredible to him. Plus, if you were the one breaking the news to him, that must mean you really like his articles.

"So, Seonghwa's going to talk to you more about the column maybe tomorrow or next week," you continued. "It depends on when he gets done with his capstone, after all."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Wonbin nodded— after all, the president did have the final say for everything.

"Good. Alright, I'll see you later then."

Wonbin nodded and bowed again before doing his best to leave the room confidently. The second he was out of the room, though, he held onto his beating heart and exhaled heavily. A smile and light pink blush crept onto his cheeks as he replayed the moment in his head. The smile lingered on his face as he left the building with a skip in his step.

"Hey, Wonbin," a girl he'd never seen before suddenly approached him as he left the building. "I— I have something to tell you..."

Slightly taken aback, the smile on his face faltered as he looked at the girl. He took in his surroundings and realized that there was a group of girls standing several feet away watching his interaction with this girl with a blazing red face.

Oh. Another confession.

"What is it?" Wonbin tried asking as politely as possible, but his patience was wearing thin.

"I... I really like you!"

Lord.

"Oh, well, thank you," he said softly.

"Will you go out with me?" The girl suddenly got a little bolder as she lifted her head to make intense eye contact with him.

"Ah, well, um... I already have a girlfriend," Wonbin lied straight through his teeth.

The girl's face fell. She looked at the group of other girls and glared at them. Then, she quickly turned back to Wonbin and said, "I-I'm sorry for wasting your time! Bye!"

Wonbin watched the girl scurry off to her friends and start sobbing the second she got to them. He let out a soft sigh. He grabbed his headphones from his bag and put them on before playing a song and making his way off campus.

Why couldn't he just get the girl that he wanted?

YOU finished up the article you were working on and were cleaning up your station when your phone pinged with a new notification.

seonghwa: meet me at the bridge

The bridge he was talking about, the only bridge on campus, was a five minute walk from your building. You messaged him back before wrapping up and heading out of the building.

It was already nighttime when you left the building. You shouldn't have been surprised at that point because you were used to staying late to finish up articles, but every time you walked out to a dark sky and barely any stars, you were always surprised. Quickly, you made your way to the bridge and saw Seonghwa standing at the peak of it while leaning against the wood railing. The second you took a step on the creaking wood, Seonghwa turned his head, his gaze meeting yours.

"Hey," he greeted with a smile.

"Hi."

"So, tell me," the man got right to it. "How was the meeting?"

"It went well. Everyone did what they were supposed to, everyone got their assignments— standard."

"Good."

"Oh, and I told Wonbin about the column. He seemed pretty excited about it," you couldn't help but giggle thinking about the giddy expression on his face and the stars sparkling in his eyes.

"Yeah? That's good to hear."

Seonghwa, for some reason, seemed a little disgruntled after you brought up Wonbin. You were confused— it was his idea to give Wonbin the column in the first place, so why was he acting all weird about it now?

You knew Seonghwa was definitely bothered when he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets. He took one out and stuck it between his lips, only for you to take it out of his mouth.

"What?" Seonghwa turned to you, very clearly irritated.

"Not yet."

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"Okay, but I'd rather not make out with you when you have cigarette breath, Hwa," you responded while leaning closer to him.

"Oh? Is that on the table tonight?"

Seonghwa turned towards you and wrapped his arms around you before pulling you close to him.

"You have to ask? I thought that was a given."

"Hmm, okay, doll face," Seonghwa hummed.

His hands strayed down to your ass. He held your ass tightly before pulling up, bringing you to your tippy toes and closer to him. You held his shoulders and brought your face closer to his.

"Your place or mine?"

Seonghwa, somewhat lost in thought, hummed again while teasing you, his lips barely grazing yours.

"Your place. My roommate's bringing someone home."

"Alright, but one condition."

"What is it?"

"Stop fucking teasing me and kiss me."

Seonghwa stifled a giggle and leaned away from you to get a look at the expression on your face. "We're in public," he whispered. "Do you really want people to see?"

"Hwa, your hands are on my fucking ass right now."

"Touché."

Finally, he stopped teasing you, and he pressed his lips against yours. His hands moved from your ass to your lower back. His fingertips tickled the dimples on your back, and his lips made yours tingle when he tugged upwards on your lower lip. You ran your fingers through his hair with one hand, your other hand slipping from his shoulder to his chest. His arms pulled you even closer— you had no idea if there was even room between the two of you— and you felt his pelvis press against you. He was starting to firm up.

"Wait," you breathlessly pushed him away, the man whining slightly. "Let's go before you fuck me on the bridge."

The entire walk back to your place, Seonghwa kept a slight distance between the two of you. The great thing about the bridge was that not many students used it, so he was able to be as intimate as he wanted to be with you there, but the walk from campus to your apartment made you go through the major hotspots of your college, and if the two of you were going to keep your relationship a secret, you both had to act like there was absolutely nothing between the two of you.

So, the second your front door shut behind you, Seonghwa pounced on you. He grabbed your shirt collar and pulled you in while making out with you sloppily, your own fingers getting tangled in his hair. His fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt nimbly before untucking your shirt and pulling the sleeves down quickly. He continued breathlessly kissing you as he pinned you against the door. You worked on getting his shirt off, the buttons coming off one by one to reveal his white wife-beater.

You were getting impatient. You pushed Seonghwa away from the door and towards your bedroom, Seonghwa ultimately carrying you while you wrapped your legs around his waist so he could kiss you a little more comfortably.

As soon as you got to your room, Seonghwa sat then laid down on the bed, making you straddle him and hover above him. Still kissing, you reached behind you and unhooked your bra, the bra flying somewhere in the room the second the straps fell off your shoulders.

You saw Seonghwa's eyes sparkle when he laid eyes on your breasts. He slid down slightly and wrapped his arms around you to bring you closer to him, the man immediately sucking on your breast as soon as it neared his mouth. You sighed blissfully the harder he sucked, and you moaned softly when he began massaging your other breast with his hand.

"Seong— Mmm! Seonghwa, p-please," you whined. "Just fuck me, please..."

Seonghwa chose to ignore you. He, instead, switched breasts, and instead of massaging your breast again, he ran his hands down the curve of your bare waist, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. He tugged on your nipple gently with his teeth, his hands removing your pants, allowing you to kick them off.

"Stay on your hands and knees, doll face," Seonghwa said, his voice low and sultry, sending tingles down your spine.

You chose to listen to him. Seonghwa slipped off the bed and pushed you forward so that you were in the center of the bed. He brought your waist up slightly before licking a stripe along your cunt. You gripped the duvet below you and sighed with pleasure as you felt Seonghwa's tongue ravish your pussy.

"Oh my God— Oh fuck!" you cried when you felt his finger draw circles on your clit while his tongue pushed through your folds. You clawed at the sheets and curled your toes as you felt the pleasure building within you.

As he continued to eat you out, Seonghwa removed his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled his cock out. His tongue was still deep inside you as he collected some of your arousal onto his fingers before stroking himself. The higher and shorter your moans got, the faster he fucked his fist. It was when his tongue found your clit once again did white fill your vision. You cried loudly as you came, Seonghwa nearly getting a facial as you squirted. He quickly drove two of his fingers into your cunt and fingered you hard and fast, getting you to squirt again. Your thighs were trembling, and your hands were barely supporting you by the time you recovered from your orgasm.

"God, doll face, how pent up were you?" Seonghwa teased as he moved upright and knelt right behind you.

You couldn't even tell him to shut up— you were breathing heavily and focusing on blinking until you could see clearly again. Seonghwa got off the bed momentarily to rifle through your nightstand and grab a condom from the box the two of you had stashed there months ago before returning to his position behind you. He rolled the condom on then teased your cunt with the tip of his cock. He rubbed up and down, occasionally pressing the head through your folds.

"Hwa— Ah! Oh, shit," you were about to yell at him to stop teasing you when he shoved his cock all the way inside you, bottoming out.

"Hmm?" Seonghwa asked with a slight groan. "What was that?"

You bit your lower lip and shook your head before dropping it, the man behind you chuckling at your response. He held your hips and began moving at a fairly steady pace. Every time he thrust into you, you heard him exhale through gritted teeth. The lewd sounds of your wet cunt swallowing Seonghwa's cock filled up the room along with the bedsprings below you, the man starting to speed up.

Seonghwa moved his hands to your waist, and at some point, he pushed the space between your shoulder blades down, making you go from your hands to your knees. He leaned over you and smacked his waist against yours even faster, his breathing erratic as he choked back his groans. You, on the other hand, were just letting yourself go. The new angle drove you to pleasure faster, and at some point, you couldn't take it anymore.

"F-Fuck, I'm cumming!" you whimpered as you pushed your head into your mattress.

You cunt fluttered before completely tightening up, Seonghwa wincing as the tension felt way too fucking good. He pulled out and fingered you fast, making you squirt onto his pants and your duvet. Your cries died down as you completely released, the knot in your stomach completely unraveling. You collapsed onto your bed and sighed blissfully while knowing in the back of your head that Seonghwa wasn't done with you yet because he still had yet to cum as well.

"Damn, now I need to do my laundry," Seonghwa chuckled as he observed his stained pants. "Looks like I'm spending the night."

"Be honest with me— you did that intentionally, right?" you accused him with a playful tone as you turned to face him.

"And what if I did?"

"Hwa, you can just spend the night if you'd like. You don't need to come up with an excuse. Also, you have a lot of clothes here."

Seonghwa had slipped out of his pants and tossed them over the edge of the bed before kneeling between your now open legs. He tugged his wife-beater off and flung it behind him before hovering right above you, his beautiful face nearing yours slowly.

"Is that right, doll?" Seonghwa asked with his signature smile. "Alright, noted."

You smiled back and held the back of his neck to pull him down and kiss you. Seonghwa kissed you sensually as he positioned his cock and slipped it into your wet cunt. You were soaking, and it was easy for him to glide through you, but that didn't change the fact that you were still incredibly tight. So tight, in fact, that Seonghwa could barely hold it together.

It was when you moved your hips upwards into his slightly that caused him to break. He stopped kissing you to fuck you fast and hard, your hands moving to his arms and gripping tightly.

Seonghwa couldn't even get the words out. He groaned loudly as he came, his hot cum filling the rubber yet still warming you up inside. He continued moving in and out of you, his cock twitching as more ropes of cum continued collecting in the condom. With a final sigh, Seonghwa hovered above you again, his boba eyes starry with bliss.

"Seonghwa," you whispered as you brushed his stray locks from his sweaty forehead. "Tell me something."

"What is it, doll?"

"Was that enough for you, or can we..."

Seonghwa chuckled. He placed his thumb on your lower lip and tugged gently. You saw his eyes darken, and you felt his cock— which was still inside you— firm up.

"I can never get enough of you, doll."

YOU knew that Seonghwa sleeping over was a bad idea because he was going to make the two of you late for class. That morning, you woke up to Seonghwa's waist pressing into yours, his insatiability overpowering you.

"Come on, doll face," Seonghwa's morning voice rumbled in your ear as he hugged you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. "Just one time..."

"Hwa, we have class..." you sighed.

No was not an option at that point because Seonghwa's hands slipped under your shirt and tiptoed up to your breasts, his fingers immediately finding and tugging on your nipples. He pressed gentle kisses along the slope of your neck, his kisses slowly moving to your shoulder.

"Goddammit, fuck you, Park Seonghwa," you groaned when you felt him push his knee between your legs.

That's how the two of you ended up sprinting to campus. You both had class at the same time, but they were different classes, so no one could suspect the relationship between the two of you since you were running to opposite ends of campus.

After your morning class, though, the two of you met up at the cafeteria— you and your friends from the journalism department always ate lunch together, which meant you got to see Seonghwa again.

"Hey, how was your morning?" Seonghwa asked very nonchalantly as he sat down right next to you.

"A bit of a headache, actually," you answered truthfully.

"Oh? Why is that?"

There was a sly smirk on Seonghwa's face— a smirk that you wanted to wipe off with a slap, but you held yourself back.

"I couldn't get out of bed."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to sleep— Seonghwa, just shut the fuck up and eat your lunch," you said, your voice laced with exasperation as you pushed his face away from you so he would stop asking you “why?”.

You and your friends dug into your lunches, and the table was silent for a grand total of two seconds before one of your friends commented, "You guys are awfully close for people who are just friends..."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between the two of you?"

Neither you nor Seonghwa changed your expression— the two of you were masters at not getting flustered when people asked you invasive questions at that point.

"As if anything would happen between us," Seonghwa scoffed.

"But you two were clearly flirting—"

"Seonghwa just lives to annoy the shit out of me," you swiftly responded. "You shut up and eat your food, too."

A couple other friends snickered before the conversation steered back to something normal.

And although you and Seonghwa agreed that nothing serious would ever happen between you two, his response to your friend's question bothered you slightly.

His response continued to swirl around in the back of your head as you went through your remaining classes and got to the journalism department floor. You desperately tried to distract yourself by throwing yourself into your homework and work for the club, but it just kept fucking bothering you.

"As if anything would happen between us."

You hated that you were overthinking it. After giving up on trying to focus, you packed up your bag and stood up, only to realize the entire floor was completely deserted; you were so in your own head that you didn't realize how much time had passed. You sighed softly to yourself and began walking towards the exit, only to hear someone rapidly typing.

You walked in the direction of the sound to see Wonbin staring intently at his screen and tapping away. He had his headphones on as well as a pair of blue-light glasses as he practically shoved his face into his computer screen. He was so focused, and at first you found it cute, but when you saw the serious look on his face, your heart skipped a beat.

He looked familiar in a way, but you couldn't quite place it.

Shaking the thought from your head, you decided to quietly approach him. You leaned over his shoulder, and even then, Wonbin had yet to notice you. It was when you asked, "Whatcha workin' on?" did Wonbin respond to you.

"Oh my God, you scared me!" Wonbin exclaimed while nearly leaping out of his chair.

"Sorry," you couldn't help but laugh as you apologized to the startled guy. "So, what're you working on?"

Clearing his throat and moving slightly to the side so that you could get a better look at his screen, Wonbin moved the cursor to show many, many tabs. He explained that he was doing all of the research in the Goddamn world before writing an article for one of his journalism classes. Seeing him talk so passionately about what he was working on made a soft smile spread across your face, and your heart fluttered a bit before a new nagging feeling entered the back of your mind as you suddenly realized why he looked familiar to you.

He reminded you of a younger Seonghwa.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a growling noise— Wonbin's stomach was rumbling. His face went bright red as he covered his stomach and looked away from you.

"Wonbin, when was the last time you ate?" you asked him.

"Uh... I think this morning," he admitted. "I skipped lunch to work on the research."

"Alright, come with me. Let's go get some dinner."

Wonbin scrambled to clean up his station before scurrying after you. The two of you ended up going to the convenience store near campus and grabbing cup ramens. The two of you sat side by side as you ate your ramen in silence and stared out the window.

"I have a question for you," you stated somewhat suddenly, making the poor guy choke on his noodles. "Why did you choose journalism?"

"Honestly... I don't know. I kind of wanted to become a musician, but my parents made me reconsider because it wasn't realistic according to them," Wonbin responded— he was being pretty candid with you, making your heart swell up a tiny bit.

"What do you want to do after college, then?"

"No idea yet... I should figure that out, shouldn't I?"

Wonbin looked at his ramen and sighed softly. You definitely stressed the poor boy out. In attempt to make him feel better, you patted his head and said, "You still have, like, two years to figure it out. Don't stress too hard for now."

"O-Oh! Right! You're, erm, you're right..." Wonbin nearly yelped, his face turning bright red. "I have time..."

The innocent, puppy-dog look on his face made your cuteness aggression kick in for absolutely no reason. You ended up chuckling lightly and ruffling his hair, Wonbin's face only getting redder.

He's so cute.

After the two of you finished eating and making more small talk, you both exited the convenience store.

"Which way are you headed, Wonbin?" you asked.

"That way. You?"

"I'm the opposite direction," you couldn't help but laugh. "Get home safe, okay?"

"W-Wait, I can walk you home—"

"Don't be ridiculous. I live close to here, and you should get home soon, too. I'll see you tomorrow."

Wonbin pressed his lips together and nodded. Again, he looked so damn cute that you just couldn't help yourself. You ruffled his hair again and waved goodbye to him before heading back to your apartment.

So cute.

After that night, you couldn't help but give Wonbin more attention. Maybe it was the fact that he reminded you of Seonghwa that drew you to the younger guy, but regardless, you were definitely showing him a little more attention than the other underclassmen after that.

SEONGHWA was annoyed. You had suddenly grown distant from him, and he didn't know why. You were being pretty passive when he texted you, and honestly, it had been a week since the two of you had hooked up— the max it had ever been was 3, maybe 4, days. Which meant not only was Seonghwa annoyed, but he was also pent up.

His irritation only grew when he saw how close you were getting with the underclassmen, specifically Wonbin. Sure, it was your job as the vice president to make sure everyone could handle the work assigned and get everything in on time, but the president and vice president still had to check in with each other, right?

One day, he snapped. You were sitting next to Wonbin and laughing with him, and he didn't like that at all. Seonghwa wasn't one to get jealous, but you with this kid was driving him insane. He needed to say something to you.

"Any questions?" Seonghwa asked after wrapping up that week's club meeting.

Not a single person raised their hand. Seonghwa nodded before silently dismissing everyone. He kept an eye on you as he saw you quickly grab your bag and try to sneak out of the room. Before you made it to the doors, he grabbed your shoulder and said, "We need to talk, vice president."

He saw you gulp nervously before nodding and heading towards the center of the room. As soon as everyone had left, Seonghwa closed and locked the door.

"What the hell, Y/N? You've been avoiding me, haven't you?" Seonghwa cut the bullshit and got straight to it.

"N-No, I haven't—"

"Don't fucking lie to me. You just tried to sneak out of the room. What the hell is going on?"

You let out a deep breath and met his steely gaze as you responded, "Nothing. Everything's fine. I just have work to do."

"What, with that kid?"

Seonghwa saw your eyebrows furrow, and the frown on your face deepened. He definitely hit a sore spot.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You've been spending more time with that kid lately."

You slammed your bag onto the conference room table and stood a little more confidently, slightly startling Seonghwa. His gaze then hardened before he continued, "You need to stop being so nice to the kid—"

"Kid? He's got a name, Seonghwa, and he's not a kid. Don't make it sound weird," you interrupted.

"You're the one making it weird when you say it like that. Either way, don't be so nice to him."

"Why? Weren't you the one who wanted to give him that column in the first place?"

"Yes, but—"

"So, why shouldn't I help him? He's a freshman, Seonghwa, and he needs some help with this first article."

"Because you need to stop leading him on," the words flew out of Seonghwa's mouth before he could even reflect what he actually meant.

Your face got slightly red, and Seonghwa immediately realized what was going on: you weren't spending time with Wonbin to help him; you were spending time with Wonbin to be with him.

"You like him, don't you?" he asked quietly.

"So what if I do?" you cleared your throat and shot back.

"You shouldn't. It's unprofessional."

You scoffed (and Seonghwa also mentally reprimanded himself for saying something so foolish). "Are you really one to be preaching professionalism, Seonghwa?"

Seonghwa lowered his gaze. You weren't wrong.

"I can do whatever I want, Seonghwa. You're not my boyfriend."

"I—"

"And I'm not leading him on if I'm genuinely interested in him," you interrupted.

"Genuinely interested? Ha! Give me a break," Seonghwa laughed sardonically. "Besides, I may not be your boyfriend, but face it, doll face— You're mine. You've been mine since we met, and you'll continue to be mine."

"Excuse me? I'm not an object for you to fucking own, and the only way I'll ever actually be yours is if you decide to stop acting like this and actually ask me out, you prick."

Seonghwa was at a loss for words. He was getting really heated, and his jealousy was surging forward, because he didn't mean half of the things coming out of his huge fucking mouth; but, he couldn't stop himself. He was so pissed.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me, then? You're mad that I'm not asking you to be exclusive?"

"You are the one that said "as if anything would happen between us," and I want to stop wasting my time on someone who sees me as nothing more than his personal fuck toy."

"But, Y/N, you knew what you were getting into... We agreed that we wouldn't catch feelings for each other."

You were quiet for a little, then said softly, "Then why are you jealous?"

Seonghwa did not know how to respond to that. He sighed softly before pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes tightly. He was trying to rationalize everything in his head, but he had too many thoughts and emotions flying around. After a moment of silence passed, Seonghwa opened his eyes and gazed at you, his heart beating slightly faster as he saw the sadness in your eyes. He took a small step forward and held his hands out for you to hold, and he was relieved when you did take his hand.

"I'm sorry," he started. "It's... It's complicated. I need some time to think about it... Maybe even talk it through."

"I think I do too," you admitted quietly. "We don't have to talk about it tonight, though."

"That's the thing, though... I— I want to," Seonghwa stuttered. He laced his fingers with yours and held them up before looking into your eyes earnestly and saying, "I really miss you."

"I miss you, too, Hwa."

Hearing you finally say his nickname instead of his full name made the man feel so much better. He could help but smile in relief. The smile on his face faltered when you took your hands back, but it returned when you hugged him. He hugged you as well and kissed your temple while comforting you by rubbing your back.

"Would you like to come over to my place tonight to talk things through? Please?" Seonghwa whispered.

"...I'd like that."

WONBIN was a little upset if he was being honest. He knew that you were helping him with the column since it was his first time working on something so big, so when you stopped helping him, he was disappointed.

The more time you spent with him, the bigger his crush on you grew. He honestly thought that maybe you might've shared the same feelings, but after he completed his first column, his number of interactions with you had died down. At least you were still talking to him even if it was not as frequently.

That being said, after spending so much time with you, Wonbin couldn't help but pay even more attention to you. He wasn't stalking you or anything, but any time you were within his general vicinity, his eyes were drawn towards you. You were even more beautiful, even more charming, even more charismatic to him. Dare he say it, if he wasn't careful, he would fall in love with you.

He noticed these things, but he also noticed that you were kind of sticking close to Seonghwa's side. He wondered if you were dating the guy because there was just something about the way the two of you interacted that made him question exactly how close you were with the president. Like, at some point, it didn't look like a vice president and a president talking, nor did it seem like two really good friends talking, but rather like two people who clearly had feelings for each other.

"Don't forget," Seonghwa announced at the end of that week's meeting. "We have the social tonight. Everyone better show up!"

Laughter and chatter rippled through the club, and soon after, everyone left the room. Wonbin took a little more time leaving the room and saw you approach Seonghwa with some files. You were standing awfully close to him, and Wonbin definitely noticed the way Seonghwa's facial features softened when you spoke to him. He feared that his suspicions were true when he saw the two of you laugh and chat happily, so he quickly left the room before he had to see more of it.

Unfortunately, he was going to see more of it that night at the social. He was dreading the social, actually. At first, he was excited because it was a chance to spend time with you, but after what happened earlier that day, he had very mixed feelings about it. Those feelings became significantly less mixed when he found himself surrounded by all of the girls in the journalism department.

"You're so cute, Wonbin," one girl commented as she touched his arm for more than three seconds. "Your girlfriend must be very happy to be with you."

Shit.

He forgot that he told people that he had a girlfriend. Yet, even though this girl next to him knew that he "had a girlfriend," she was still hitting on him. Seriously, what was wrong with this girl?

"Yeah, she is," Wonbin responded with a pleasant smile as he brushed the girl's hand off his arm.

"Are you happy to be with her, though?" another girl pressed herself right up against Wonbin's shoulder.

"Yeah, I am," Wonbin kept his pleasant smile plastered to his face while he moved away from the girl.

The girls continued to talk to him and harass him, and every girl tried to get him to drink, but there was no way in hell that he would drink anything these girls gave him out of fear for his own safety.

For once, Wonbin was actually super grateful to see Seonghwa walk in, because the second he did, all the girls turned their attention to him, allowing Wonbin to sneak away from the girls and sit elsewhere. He sat down near some male upperclassmen and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God..." he muttered to himself.

"Oh no! Pretty girls love me and won't leave me alone!" one of the upperclassmen said with heavy sarcasm. "You don't realize how lucky you are, you lucky bastard."

"You know most of those girls are psycho, though, right?" Wonbin explained. "Some of them followed me home the other day..."

"Okay, well, when you put it like that..."

The upperclassman, now feeling horrible for the poor freshman, poured Wonbin a shot then clinked his glass with Wonbin's before they both took their shots. Wonbin wasn't exactly a lightweight, but the second the shot went down, he realized that maybe that was enough for the night; and that realization only doubled down when felt his face get hot and his body sway.

The upperclassmen were all talking— and they weren't leaving Wonbin out— but Wonbin was only able to get out small statements and words here and there. He was definitely not drunk, and he was barely tipsy, but the only reason he was so out of it was because he couldn't help but stare at you. Seonghwa ended up sitting right next to you when he got to the restaurant, so Wonbin watched with slight envy as you laughed (cutely, in Wonbin's humble opinion) at something Seonghwa said.

"Hey," Wonbin suddenly interrupted the upperclassmen's conversation about God knows what. "I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Is there something going on between Y/N and Seonghwa?"

"Oh, I actually know the answer to this one!" one of the upperclassmen at the table spoke. "I asked them the other day, and they both got mad at me, so I know this for a fact."

"Jesus, you're just as wordy as your fucking articles," another upperclassman slapped the first guy's shoulder. "Spit it out."

"Well, Seonghwa said, "As if anything would happen between us," and then Y/N said that Seonghwa lives to annoy the shit out of her, so there's really nothing there."

"Huh..." Wonbin mused out loud.

"Plus, Seonghwa's graduating this year, and Y/N's going to be president when he leaves, so most of the time they spend together now is just him prepping her. The last president did the same thing with Seonghwa," the guy continued.

"Also," another added. "If the president and the vice president didn't spend time together, I'd be concerned for the future of the department."

"True..."

"Wait, kid, why are you asking?"

"Oh, I just thought they seemed really close," Wonbin did his damn best to make sure he didn't stutter.

Most of the upperclassmen at the table accepted his response and turned to talk to each other, but the one Wonbin shared a drink with side-eyed him. He leaned towards Wonbin and whispered, "You like Y/N, don't you?"

Wonbin blushed furiously. His face betrayed him, but he still responded, "No!"

"Don't worry, kid. All of us have had some sort of crush on her at some point. She's just that charming— but it's never going to happen, so keep dreaming."

With that and a pat on his shoulder, the upperclassman turned to his peers, leaving Wonbin with his own thoughts. He ended up taking another shot by himself and nursed a beer while he tuned into the conversation at the table.

The normalcy lasted a grand total of five minutes before the girls who were harassing Wonbin earlier joined his new table. The upperclassmen tried to talk to the girls, but they kept expressing interest in a very exasperated Wonbin to the point where he was feeling claustrophobic. With a stroke of brilliance, Wonbin got out of his situation by excusing himself to "go to the bathroom," but instead of going to the bathroom, he went outside for some air.

Wonbin sighed deeply as he stood by the side of the establishment, his body beginning to relax as he focused on the dark sky above.

"Geez, that was a deep sigh."

His body immediately tensed again as he flinched when he heard your voice. You stood alongside him and waved at him while saying, "Hi, Wonbin."

"O-Oh my gosh," Wonbin managed to choke out a response while holding his heart. "Uh, hi..."

You giggled at his reaction, sending Wonbin's heart on another sprint. He felt his face get red hot again when he realized how close you were standing to him.

"You look a little tipsy," you commented when you saw his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Wonbin said after clearing his throat. "I just needed to come out for air."

"Are you sure? Your face looks a little too flushed right now."

You gestured for him to get closer to you, which obviously, he did. You pressed your palm to his forehead, making Wonbin freak out internally even more. Even after all the hair ruffles, his heart still wasn't used to you making physical contact with him so casually.

"You're so warm," you whispered.

"I d-don't have a fever..."

"I know you don't."

It was when you cupped his face and smiled softly at him did Wonbin realize that you were a little tipsy too, just like him. He truly froze when you brushed your thumbs along his cheekbones, his heart thudding wildly against his chest.

"You're so cute, Wonbin," you told him, making his already deep blush get way worse.

"T-Thank you... You're really pretty too—!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Wonbin covered his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. He was so surprised that he was being bold and honest with you because he really wasn't one to be like that sober. He was even more surprised when you giggled at his reaction.

"You're adorable, Wonbin."

Wonbin truly had no idea how his heart didn't just burst out of his chest when you kissed his cheek. Granted, it was the tiniest of pecks, but it was a freaking kiss from you for crying out loud. When the two of you made eye contact, something stirred within him. He had half a mind to surge forward and actually kiss you, but he didn't need to because you pulled his face towards you and kissed him first.

His arms went around your waist, and you held his shoulders as you kissed him over and over again, all the unspoken feelings between the two of you silently coming forward.

The interest was mutual... Thank God.

YOU held Wonbin's hand as you entered your apartment, your fingers laced with his. Neither of you had uttered a word about what just happened, but there was a silent understanding at least, and that's all you really needed for now.

When you got to the living room, you let go of his hand and sat down on the couch, Wonbin sitting right next to you. You felt your heart racing so fast that it was ready to take off for the moon when you saw the way he was looking at you.

"I, um... Can—" Wonbin cleared his throat and swallowed nervously. "Can I kiss you?"

Moments ago, he was kissing you as if the world would end if he stopped, and now he was sitting on your couch asking for permission? God, he was so fucking cute. You nodded and scooted the tiniest bit closer to him. Wonbin let out a tiny sigh of relief, a brief smile crossing his face as he cupped your face gently.

This time, the kiss was more sensual and passionate. It was only one, sweet kiss at first, followed by several more, the intensity of the kisses steadily raising as your emotions surged to the surface. There was a hint of urgency and intense desire emanating from him as he leaned into you, pushing you down so that you were laying on the couch.

Wonbin straddled you and sat upright to remove his shirt, his toned body glistening with a light layer of sweat. You were a little in awe as you observed the way he ran his fingers through his hair, his muscles getting more defined as he leaned back. You were staring so intently, in fact, that Wonbin subtly tried to cover his body.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"You're gorgeous, Wonbin."

The compliment made his face turn bright red. It seemed like he was getting shyer by the second, but you changed your opinion when he assumed a more dominant position. He trapped you on the couch and hovered above you, the twinkle in his eye slowly getting replaced by lust.

"I could say the same to you," he whispered.

He kissed you passionately, his hair tickling your cheeks the more he moved into you. His hand snuck under your shirt, and he trailed his fingernails up your torso until he held your ribs gently. You arched your back and pushed yourself towards him as you got slightly impatient; yet, his slow pace was turning you on even more.

Wonbin sat up again and helped you out of your shirt, and to save a little time, you unhooked and removed your own bra. Wonbin slightly gasped when got to see your bare body. He bit his lower lip and lowered himself again, his lips meeting yours, his chest slightly rubbing against yours. You let out a soft moan when you felt his warm hands on your breasts. He massaged them as he moved his lips to your cheek. He trailed tender kisses along your cheek, down your neck, along your collarbone, and to your breast.

While he sucked and massaged your breasts, you couldn't help but think about how skilled he was— this definitely wasn't his first time, which made you a little more excited if you were being completely honest.

A soft moan left your lungs when you felt him press his knee in between your legs. He looked up at you with mild surprise. You maintained eye contact as you let out soft breaths in unison.

"I, um," you whispered. "I don't think I can wait any longer, Wonbin... I need you."

A dusty rose blush spread from his cheeks to his ears. He merely nodded and got off the couch. You sat up and were about to get off as well, only for Wonbin to outstretch his arms. Next thing you knew, he was carrying you to your bedroom, his hands supporting your legs and back while you hugged him.

Wonbin laid you down on the bed, and the second he did, he unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them along with your underwear off your waist. He pushed your legs up, his hands under your thighs, giving him a better view of your quivering pussy. You heard him sigh quietly but happily before leaving the smallest of kisses on your clit. He then ran his tongue up and down your folds slowly, his tongue teasing you every so often by pushing into your entrance. You bit your lower lip to keep from moaning and ran your fingers through Wonbin's hair as he spent more time between your legs.

"Oh, mmm, yes," you moaned blissfully. "Right there— Ngh— Yes..."

Your toes curled when Wonbin's nose brushed against your clit. You were slightly disappointed when he moved away from your cunt, but that disappointment quickly disappeared when he pushed two of his slender fingers into you. He fingered you at a slow, steady pace while moving closer to you. He planted his hand right above your shoulder and lowered himself so that your faces were mere centimeters apart.

"You're very sweet, Y/N," he whispered, sending tingles down your spine. "Would you like a taste?"

The words were sweet, but the context was so dirty that you felt your face heat up. You nodded, and Wonbin pressed his lips against yours briefly before lifting his head to see your reaction. Seconds later, he kissed you again, and he kept his lips locked with yours as he moved and curled his fingers inside you.

Just as you felt the tension building inside you, Wonbin added a third finger. He fingered you a little faster, making you whine and moan into his mouth.

"You like that, baby?"

Baby. Oh, fuck.

You gasped and pushed your head backwards into the mattress, your eyes fluttering as pleasure ran through you quickly like electricity. You bit your lower lip to keep from moaning loudly as you came, your cunt relaxing completely after you squirted all over Wonbin's hand and your bed.

You blinked tears and stars from your eyes when Wonbin moved away from you. It was when you saw him lick his fingers did you manage to clear the fog in your vision, your heart thudding wildly upon the sight of him tasting you like that.

"I told you— You taste so sweet," Wonbin chuckled, making your face get even hotter.

You made empty noises— you truly did not know how to respond to him because you were so shocked; what the hell happened to the shy, cute Wonbin you knew, and who was this Wonbin before you (not that you were complaining).

Wonbin started patting his pockets down, and you assumed he was in search of a condom. You reached for the handle on your nightstand and opened the drawer, Wonbin immediately spotting the condoms. He grabbed one, and before he tore it open, he paused and stared at it.

"Is something wrong?" you asked him.

"Huh? No," Wonbin shook his head. "It's nothing."

You knew that it definitely wasn't nothing, but you didn't even ponder the idea for long. Wonbin slipped out of his pants and revealed his hard on. His cock was so slender and pretty just like him, and honestly, your mouth started salivating upon seeing it.

How nice would it be if you could suck him off?

Wonbin wasted no time getting on the bed after rolling the condom on and pinning you down again. He moved so that he was between your legs, his cock brushing against your clit with a fleeting touch, making your body tingle. You bit your lower lip when he intentionally rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds, and you stifled your moan when you felt him enter you slowly. Wonbin, who was holding his breath as he pushed his cock into you, let out a tiny grunt when he was entirely inside you.

"You're so tight," Wonbin said with a slight laugh. "Fuck, you just feel so good, baby..."

Before you could even think about responding, Wonbin kissed you again. He moved his hands to your waist, and his fingers pressed into your skin as he rolled his hips into yours slowly, sensually. You heard his breathing hitch in between kisses every time his waist met yours. You could feel his cock throb inside you, and you could tell he was really trying his best to not cum.

You decided to tease him. You combed your fingers through his hair and rested your hands on the back of his neck, your fingers tickling the nape of his neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and you pushed your body upwards as you kissed him so strongly that even you saw stars.

Wonbin couldn't take it any longer. He sat up and tightened his grip on your waist, his hips hitting yours fast and hard. His breathing got shallower, and his soft groans got higher in pitch as he neared his climax. On his final thrust, he pulled your hips up slightly, the change in angle hitting your G-spot and making you cum immediately. You whimpered and bit your lower lip as white filled your vision, your hands clenching the bed sheets beneath you. Wonbin groaned softly, his cock twitching and quivering as his cum spurt into the condom.

You sighed and relaxed your body after Wonbin pulled out. He got off the bed and threw out the condom before disappearing from your room, confusing the shit out of you. He returned moments later for water for both you and him, and your heart skipped a beat. He handed you the glass and sat on the bed next to you. He rested his hand on the mattress and looked away from you as he drank his water. His attention quickly snapped to you, however, when you placed your hand on top of his.

"You know, when you called me baby," you told him. "I was really surprised."

"Oh— Do you not like that nickname?" Wonbin turned to face you completely, looking slightly guilty.

"No, I really liked it, actually..."

Wonbin's head snapped up, and a smile blossomed on his face. Your heart skipped yet another beat when he set his water aside to tuck stray hairs behind your ear, his thumb lingering on your ear.

"Alright, baby," he said with a playful tone. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"Next time?" you questioned. "You mean next round."

Grinning, Wonbin took your water from you and set it aside. He laid you down and brushed his nose along your jawline before pressing his lips against yours softly, sweetly, tenderly.

YOU seriously wondered why the journalism department would hold a social on a weeknight. The next morning after you both woke up, Wonbin hurriedly left your place so he could go home and freshen up before heading for his first class— luckily his class was in the afternoon. You, on the other hand, scrambled to get your shit together in time for your morning class.

Truth be told, you couldn't stop thinking about Wonbin all day. You loved how tender and sweet he was with you. Sex with Seonghwa was fun for sure, but you definitely did want a more emotional connection with the person you were sleeping with.

You and Seonghwa agreed that you'd talk about your relationship, and after you did, technically nothing fucking changed. You were still friends, and you still fucked, it was just now he was a little more considerate of your feelings. You didn't feel like a sex toy anymore, but that obviously wasn't enough, though.

A smile lingered on your face as you went to the journalism department later that day to finish up some work done for the club. It was the end of the day, and there wasn't a soul on the floor— not a single soul except for Seonghwa, that is, and you fully ran into him the second you turned the corner.

Seonghwa didn't even give you the time to apologize for running into him. He immediately grabbed your arm and pulled you into the records room. Pinning you against the door, he stared right into your eyes, his gaze so sharp that it made you nervous as hell.

"You slept with Wonbin, didn't you?"

Your blood ran cold— you shouldn't have felt guilty, but it was the tone of Seonghwa's voice that made you feel bad.

"I don't know what you mean—"

Seonghwa cut you off by grabbing your face with one hand, his fingers pressing into your cheeks as he pulled your face towards his.

"Spare me the runaround and just tell me the truth," he bit out. "You and I were supposed to meet after the social, but you and Wonbin disappeared. You slept with him, right?"

"...What if I did?"

"What the fuck, Y/N?!"

Seonghwa let go of you and walked away from you while running shaky fingers through his hair. He looked so frustrated, and you, again, felt guilty for no reason.

"I don't see what your fucking problem is, Seonghwa! We're still nothing but friends with benefits, so you really shouldn't care," you couldn't help but snap at him.

He whipped his head towards you, and you could see the exasperation on his face.

"Well, I do fucking care!"

"Because you want ownership over me, or because you like me?"

Seonghwa pressed his lips together. He couldn't find an answer. You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"Face it, Seonghwa. You don't want to share me with anyone, but you don't get to make that choice because I'm not committed to you. Got it?"

On that note, you tried to leave, but Seonghwa was faster. He slammed the door shut with one hand, pinning you against the door yet again. His eyes searched yours as the two of you remained silent for a beat.

"Didn't we talk things through? Did that night mean nothing to you, then?" Seonghwa asked with slight accusation laced in his words.

"Talked things through?" you repeated, dumbfounded. "We're still just friends because you haven't made things official between us!"

"I thought we still didn't want to tell people about us, so I didn't say anything!"

"Telling people about us versus you actually telling me to my face that you want me to be your girlfriend, that you want us to be exclusive, are two separate things, Seonghwa!"

"I thought you knew that we were!"

"How could we be exclusive if neither of us said it out loud?!"

The two of you were trembling angrily at that point. Seonghwa still had you pinned against the door, and it seemed like he refused to budge. Silence filled the space between you, and you were the one to break it.

"Why are you doing this, Seonghwa?" you whispered. "What do you want?"

"I... I don't know," Seonghwa choked out. "Can we even be exclusive at this point?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have feelings for him, don't you? I mean, you wouldn't have fucked him if you didn't..."

"I can have feelings for more than one person, you know," you responded softly.

You held Seonghwa's gaze, your heart rate picking up speed the longer you stared at him. His eyes searched yours, his mouth slightly open as he searched for some words, any words.

"Then again," you decided to provoke him. "You're the one who told me not to catch feelings for you, so maybe I should—"

Seonghwa snapped. He held your throat, his fingers pressing with just the right amount of tension, and he kissed you roughly. He pushed you further into the door if at all possible, his other hand moving to your ass. Lust coursed through your body as you let yourself get swept away by him. You held his arms and kissed him back while gasping every so often.

Letting go of your throat, Seonghwa wrapped both arms around your waist and quickly moved you to one of the tables in the records room. He bent you over the table, your chest pressing into the wood. You yelped in surprise when Seonghwa quickly pulled your bottoms and panties down, leaving your ass and legs exposed. He chuckled and spread your folds, your cunt glistening with slick.

"Look at how wet you are for me," Seonghwa teased you as he pushed his thumbs slightly into your entrance. "I'm telling you, doll, you were made for me."

Seonghwa licked a stripe up your cunt, making you whimper. Suddenly, you covered your mouth as you realized there were probably cameras in the fucking room.

"S-Seonghwa, the cameras!" you hissed nervously.

"There are no cameras in the records room," Seonghwa said matter-of-factly. "You should know that by now. Looks like I need to teach you more lessons, huh?"

You gulped nervously— lessons didn't just mean education when it came to Seonghwa. You tried to push yourself up when you heard him rifling through his pockets in search of a condom, but he immediately pushed you back down, his hand pressing right between your shoulder blades.

"Don't even fucking try, doll face," Seonghwa stated, his voice getting lower. "You're not going anywhere yet."

Seonghwa found the condom and held onto it by biting the corner of the packet. He grabbed both of your arms before holding both your wrists in one hand and behind your back— there was no way you were getting up now.

As Seonghwa pulled his cock out and rolled the condom on, you spotted a pair of eerily familiar headphones on the shelf. You didn't have time to place it, though, because Seonghwa quite literally fucked the thought out of your brain when he swiftly entered you.

"Your pussy is swallowing my cock perfectly, doll," Seonghwa said as he bit back a grunt. Then, chuckling slightly, he continued "You're so tight... Fuck, you feel amazing..."

Your wrists were still firmly in Seonghwa's grasp, and he tugged your arms back slightly, forcing you to arch your back. He was moving at a relatively slow pace, but every time he snapped his hips into yours, your hips hit the table with an insane amount of force, making you cry with slight pain.

Just as you were about to tell Seonghwa that he was hurting you, you heard the door to the records room open. You and Seonghwa were in a blind spot from the entrance, so you had time to quickly separate, but Seonghwa refused to let you go. He covered your mouth with his free hand and shushed you.

The footsteps approached the two of you, and you were about to burst into tears because you were fucking mortified by the situation you were in. You didn't cry when the person turned the corner, but you did feel all the color drain from your face.

"I'm guessing you're here to grab your headphones, Wonbin?" Seonghwa greeted the boy so nonchalantly, acting as if his cock wasn't buried deep inside you.

"I— Oh— Um— Jesus, I—" Wonbin stuttered; he had no idea how to respond to the situation, and you didn't blame him because you had no fucking clue either.

"You look so surprised, Wonbin," Seonghwa laughed. "Is it because we're fucking in the records room, or because I'm the one fucking her?"

You desperately wanted to tell Seonghwa to shut the fuck up, but his hand was firmly planted on your face.

"I'm... I, uh," Wonbin chewed on his lower lip nervously. "I'll pretend I didn't see anything— I just want my headphones..."

"Aw, don't be like that. You should join us. It shouldn't be that weird since you've already slept with her once, right?"

You really wanted to pass away in that moment. You watched the tips of Wonbin's ears turn crimson red. Seonghwa finally uncovered your mouth and pulled out, but he kept you pinned down to the table as he gestured for Wonbin to approach.

"Seonghwa, what the fuck—"

"What?" Seonghwa interrupted you. "You said you can have feelings for more than one person, right? So why can't you be fucked by more than one person? Besides, I want to see for myself why you're so attracted to him."

You let out empty noises in response because how the fuck were you supposed to respond to something like that?

"What do you think, Wonbin? Wanna join in?"

The boy nodded slowly, surprising the shit out of you. You were about to tell him that he doesn't— that he shouldn't— when you saw the tent forming in his pants; and, as all men do, Wonbin was definitely thinking with his dick, and his dick wanted in.

"Great. Hop on the table for me, will ya?"

Wonbin hopped up on the table and tentatively pulled his cock out as Seonghwa instructed. Your mouth involuntarily watered— his cock was just so pretty, especially when it was hard and twitching.

Seonghwa didn't even need to tell you what to do; you did it yourself. You held the base of his cock, Wonbin flinching upon feeling your touch. You looked up at Wonbin, silently asking for approval, and waited for him to nod meekly before taking him into your mouth.

The second your lips went down his cock, Wonbin let out a soft moan. You looked up at him to see his eyes widen, his face getting redder by the development of the situation. To keep himself from moaning out loud again, Wonbin bit his knuckle and sighed deeply, only for his breathing to hitch when you started sucking him properly.

Upon seeing your head bob up and down, Seonghwa rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds and pushed himself back into you, making you moan and gag on Wonbin's cock. Wonbin's entire body jolted when he heard the noise from you. He let out a soft groan when you took all of him into your mouth, making him bite down on his knuckle harder.

You could hear Wonbin's breathing get heavier and whatever moans or groans that slipped past his finger get higher. You looked up to see his eyelids fluttering as he neared his orgasm. It was you hollowing out your cheeks that did it for him. With his free hand, he held your head in place before squeezing his eyes shut and cumming in your mouth.

"Be a good girl and swallow it," Seonghwa leaned over you and whispered in your ear. "We don't want to leave a mess here, now do we?"

And so, you swallowed Wonbin's cum. He covered his face in embarrassment, so you hit him with, "Now we're even."

He opened his mouth, presumably to ask what you were talking about, only for the realization to hit— he licked his fingers last night. Yep, you were even.

After hopping off the table, Seonghwa tossed a condom packet to Wonbin. He didn't have to say a single word for the younger man to know what to do. He ripped open the packet and put it on while Seonghwa moved you so that you were standing upright, his cock still inside you.

You were sandwiched between the beautiful men when Wonbin approached you. He lifted your leg and held your thigh to give him better access to your already full cunt while you held onto his shoulders. Before you could express any thoughts, he kissed you. Even though he distracted you, you still felt his cock push into you, and your hold on his shoulders got stronger. Both men stopped moving, allowing you to get somewhat comfortable with both cocks stuffed inside you and filling you up. Yet, the second they started moving, your cunt clenched, both of them flinching with the added pressure.

"Oh my God," Wonbin breathed out.

"Shit, I almost came," Seonghwa murmured.

They moved slowly, and to keep you relaxed before you snapped their dicks off, Wonbin kissed you. He rubbed your ear slowly, making every little movement so much more sensual. Whenever he bucked his hips up, he grunted slightly into the kiss.

Seonghwa decided to push his hands up your shirt as he fucked you from behind, and they went under your bra before massaging your breasts. You exhaled blissfully when his fingers toyed with your nipples, the overstimulation starting to get to you.

"Hey, don't just focus on him," Seonghwa said as he pressed a kiss on the back of your neck.

You broke off your chain of kisses with Wonbin and turned your head towards Seonghwa. You moved your hand to Seonghwa's head, your fingers getting tangled in his locks as you kissed him while you moved your other hand from Wonbin's shoulder to his neck.

When Wonbin's grip on your thigh got tighter, you knew that he was close again, so you turned back towards him and kissed him again, his gyrations getting faster.

"I'm— Fuck— I'm gonna cum," Wonbin uttered.

Before you got the chance to say anything, Seonghwa turned your head towards him and kissed you, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his own thrusts got rougher. He didn't need to say anything, either— you knew he was close, too.

Both men snapped their waists into you, driving their cocks as far as they could into you, the two of them groaning and muttering profanities as their cocks throbbed inside you. They both remained motionless for a beat before Seonghwa pulled out first, Wonbin shortly thereafter. You whined slightly; now that you were no longer stuffed, you felt empty, and you needed them back inside you. Plus, they had yet to make you cum.

You for sure thought they were going to replace their condoms or at least eat you out, so you were completely dumbfounded when you saw them straightening out their clothes and fixing their hair.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" you irritatedly asked.

"...Getting dressed?" they both answered at the same time, making them both look at each other with slight surprise.

"We're not done here! What about me?"

Both men froze and blinked at you for a split moment before Wonbin approached you from one side and Seonghwa stood right in front of you.

"You're right, we do have unfinished business," Seonghwa murmured in agreement. "What do you think we should do, Wonbin?"

"Let's go back to her place and pick up where we left off," Wonbin suggested before pressing a kiss against your temple. "After all, there's a whole box of condoms left in that drawer.

Oh shit— What the hell have you done?

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tightjeansjavi · 8 months

Text

warm me up

A/N: the voices won this round! @strang3lov3 & @speckledemerald also, this was my first time writing game!joel 👀 this could also be show!joel if that's what you're into! This fic really got away from me today and I didn't think it would be nearly as long as I planned it to be..but that's just sometimes how things work out 😉 huge thank u to Bug for making me this cute lil mood board and I LOVE the deers!!🤍

~word count: 3.3k~

Summary: while on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.

Pairing I game!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut (explicit & implicit) enemies to lovers, implied age gap (non-specific) consent, cock warming, one sleeping bag trope, close proximity, using one's body warmth for survival, denial of feelings, mean!joel, grumpy!joel, reader is a spitfire and gets under Joel's skin easily, joel has a big cock! He is a big big man! teasing, banter, sexual tension, fluff, foul language, pet names: (darlin, sweetheart, and princess) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

Joel is freezing, shaking like a goddamn leaf. It’s ironic, given his disposition. You should have tried to retrace your steps back to Jackson hours ago, but the winter was unforgiving, and the two of you have found yourselves in a real pickle; a frozen one.

“I told you that we were going to end up getting lost out here, Joel.” You grumble alongside him with your arms crossed over your chest. Your teeth are chattering, and it’s grinding his gears.

“We ain’t fuckin’ lost, sweetheart.” He gruffs back and adjusts his rifle strap along his shoulder. “I know where I’m goin.’”

You scoff at this because if he did know where he was going, you wouldn’t be fucking lost in a fucking blizzard right now!

“Right. I’m sure you do know where you’re going, Joel.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath.

He whips around to face you, cheeks speckled in red from the cold and even in the lowlight, you can see individual snowflakes sticking to his lashes.

“Alright, miss ‘I know everything.’ Which way do you think we should go?” He awaits your answer with a cocked brow and his lips pursed together. They’re severely cracked and on the verge of bleeding from the bitter cold.

“Not the direction we’re currently headed, that’s for damn sure! Let’s just fucking turn around and retrace our steps.” You bite back and watch the way that his jaw ticks from your tone. God, you’re a real thorn in this man’s side.

“Retrace our steps?” He laughs, shaking his head to the side and sucks in a harsh cold breath of air into his lungs. “The snow has covered up our tracks, you idiot.” He’s so fucking condescending, and you’ve just about had enough with his shit attitude for one day. Your blood is positively boiling under your thick layer of clothes, and you’d much rather succumb to Mother Nature and her wrath than spend another minute with this insufferable, annoying, mean, and painfully handsome man.

“Fuck you, Joel. I’m retracing my steps whether you have a say in it or not!” You snap and turn on your heel before you feel a rough, gloved-clad hand grasp your upper arm and yank you back towards a hard and very solid presence at your back.

“Quit your fuckin’ yappin!’” He barks against the shell of your ear. His voice is rasped, crackling like a roaring fire. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere without me, you got that?!” His grip around your arm only tightens when you tried to shove him away, but he’s built like a fucking steel fridge, and you’re no match for him.

“Then stop being a fucking asshole, Joel! I’d rather freeze to death out here than spend another minute with you!”

You mean every word. Well, you think that you do.

He sneers at your attempt to wound him with your words, as if a man with a heart made out of pure concrete can possibly be affected by the means of your figurative little daggers. They ricochet off his body and fall to the snow, disappearing under a sheet of white. “I wouldn’t have to be an asshole if you would just fuckin’ listen for once in your life! God, when we get back, and we will, I’m tellin’ Tommy that I ain’t ever goin’ on patrol with your ass again.”

His steel-like grip loosens when you don’t immediately bite back like he expects you too. He wants you to fight back, to call him names and send his own blood boiling because at least then he feels alive.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” You nearly whisper and bite down on the inside of your cheek, tasting harsh copper on your tongue.

“Fine.” He agrees and finally releases your arm. “We’re gonna wait out this damn storm for the night, and then tomorrow we’ll retrace our steps home. Who knows, sweetheart. Tommy might have already sent out a search party for us.”

“Let’s fucking hope that’s the case. The sooner this storm lets up, the better.” You think you’re going to cry, but you push your tears down as far as you possibly can. You have to conserve your energy, after all. Besides, Joel Miller isn’t worth your precious tears. Not even close.

He begins to survey the surrounding area. The woods offered some reliable cover with the thick evergreens acting as a shield from the treacherous wind. The snow is still falling in large flakes, but he might be able to get a fire going if he’s lucky.

“We should..probably y’know, share a sleepin’ bag for extra heat.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, feeling kinda silly in the moment because what did he have to be nervous for? His reasoning for sharing warmth was logical. It was just his survival instincts kicking in, right?

You, on the other hand, were unfazed by his request. Sure, it made perfect sense to share body heat with this man. Why the hell did he look so distraught over it - weirdo.

“Did Bear Grylls teach you that, Miller?” You look at him with a smirk playing on your lips. “If that’s the case, then we should probably sleep naked.”

That feeling that had laid dormant for so long, was beginning to reawaken and defrost at the thought of your warm, pliant, soft body being tucked up around him in close proximity. You were annoying, sure, and he could hardly tolerate your presence, but he couldn’t deny that you were a thing of beauty, and neither could his cock.

“No. Some reality TV star didn’t teach me the survival skills that I know, sweetheart. I’m jus’ that good.” He sounds cocky, full of himself and perhaps there’s a bit of eagerness detected in his tone? Maybe the dead giveaway is the way his cheeks flush, and this time it isn’t because of the cold.

You shrug and drop your pack and sleeping bag at your boots. “Whatever you say, Joel.”

He clears his throat and drops his hand from where it was resting against the back of his neck. He stares at you for a second longer than he would have liked to, and then announces that he’s going to go find some wood for a fire, and for you to stay put.

You wave him off and unroll your sleeping bag with a huff and begin to mentally question how the hell is this grizzly of a man going to fit inside of your sleeping bag? Oh well! Time to defy all the odds that have been stacked against you.

When Joel returns, he finds you already tucked away under the sleeping bag with your clothes neatly folded on top of your backpack. He managed to find a few fallen tree branches that would make good kindling, and some thicker logs for the base of the fire.

He avoids making direct eye contact with you as he crouches down and constructs a fire that he hopes to god will keep the two of you warm throughout the cold night ahead.

You already have taken notice of his suddenly quiet and almost docile demeanor with just your head visible and peeking out of the sleeping bag

“Are you sure that fire is going to last the night, Joel?”

His shoulders and back immediately tense from your question and you can already picture him clenching his jaw and muttering under his breath.

“Ain’t no tellin’ if it will last the night, sweetheart.” He stokes at the ember glowing logs with the end of a spare stick before looking over his shoulder at you. “Y’comfy in there?” His voice rasps, dipping down an octave and sounding much, much, lower.

“Yep.” You chirp. “Nice and cozy in here, Joel. Did I mention it’s very, very warm?”

He snorts under his breath, tearing his gaze away from you and focuses back on the fire. “Yeah. I bet it is.”

What you really want to say is: and it would be even warmer if you were here with me. But you refrain, and instead bury your face further into the contained warmth emitting from the sleeping bag.

Joel is hesitating, and that part couldn’t be anymore obvious based on his tense stature. Maybe he could just accept losing feeling in his fingers and toes instead of crossing that boundary with you. Or, he could man up and deal with the immediate feelings that would come as soon as his hands would inevitably touch your warm skin.

“Joel?”

Your voice tears him away from his thoughts briefly. “Hm?”

“Aren’t you..cold?”

Freezing. My cock and balls are about to fuckin’ fall off.

“M’fine.” He insists.

“So goddamn stubborn.” He hears you mutter under your breath followed by the sound of the sleeping bag zipper being pulled down. “Get in here before you freeze to death. I’m serious, Joel.”

“Fuck off. I said m’fine.” He grumbles and turns over his shoulder to look at you once more. His eyes catch a sliver of skin, a nipple peeking out from under the fabric as you were sitting up. His head whips around so fast he swears that his brain just got rattled around in his skull.

“Would you just be a fucking man and take your clothes off and get in here?”

So impatient, he thinks.

“You jus’ wanna see me naked.” He quips back.

“For fuck sakes, Joel. I just don’t want you to freeze out here. Is that so hard to believe?”

Yes.

“Jus’..don’t peek. Alright?” He slowly stands up from his place alongside the fire as he starts to shuck his heavy coat off his shoulders.

“Fine. I won’t peek, okay? Scouts honor.” You promise him and bring your hand over your eyes to cover them.

He’s grumbling to himself the whole time as he begins to undress. He bitches about the cold, his cock, and his nearly frozen toes as you listen quietly to the sound of his belt buckle being undone. He does not fold his clothes neatly like you did and instead they are left in a pile near the fire. He dashes for your sleeping bag, yanking the zipper down in a fury and climbs inside.

It’s a tight fit indeed with barely any room for him to squeeze in but he makes it work.

“Fuck!” His yell is muffled as he struggles to make himself comfortable in what little space he has. “Fuckin’ cannot believe I actually listened to you.” He rubs his hands together, blowing hot air between them.

“Oh, shut up, you big baby.” You stifle a laugh which earns you a displeased glare. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you just would have—”

“Do not start with me, sweetheart. Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” His brows furrow and his jaw is clenched so tightly, you’re shocked that it hasn’t shattered.

“You’re all bark and no bite, Joel.” You mutter back and roll over onto your side so your back is facing him. You close your eyes and fully intend to get some much needed and deserved sleep, but the man beside you is squirming and making a big fuss.

“Darlin’ I know you ain’t want anythin’ to do with a man like me, but it was your idea for us to get naked under here..so all I’m askin’ is—”

“Just do whatever it is you need to do, Joel. Can you just be quiet about it? All I want to do right now is sleep, and your fussing about is making that really fucking difficult for me to achieve.” You snap.

“Are you givin’ me permission, sweetheart? Cus’ the last thing I want is for you to bite my damn fingers off if I touch you. So as long as it’s alright with you..” he trails off and you take matters into your own hands by reaching behind you and finding his cold hands and yanking them around your body. You couldn’t help but yelp from the stark difference of temperature from your body heat to his hands.

“You’re fucking freezing, Joel.” You state the obvious and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I didn’t exactly have time to warm them up, sweetheart. My apologies that my hands aren’t at the right temperature for ya.” You think you hear him snicker under his breath, but maybe it’s just his close proximity that makes you hear things.

“Whatever. It’s fine.” You reassure him.

His hands are big, huge, and the skin on his palms and fingers are rough. The feeling overall is quite pleasant, and soon enough his hands don’t feel like an ice block - quite the opposite actually.

He grunts softly as attempts to make himself comfortable without pressing himself into your back. It’s proving to be a challenge as it is, and he has this feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, that this challenge is going to get the best of him.

“What’s wrong now, Joel?” You try to ignore the way his thumbs are gently stroking the space between the curve of your breasts and under your rib cage, and how his touch on your skin is beginning to light a fire in your belly, and between your thighs. His touch is gentle and it’s making your head spin with need and desire.

“I jus’—I don’t wanna make y’feel uncomfortable s’all.” He admits, voice rasping deeply. “I’m fuckin’ freezin’, darlin’ but I don’t wanna—”

“Just shut up and stick your dick in me, Joel. You’ll be warmer then.” You surprise both yourself and him.

His meaty palms squeeze you gently, fingertips kneading the flesh as he inhales a shaky, yet audible breath. The tight confines of your shared sleeping bag suddenly feel ten times tighter, and hotter. It’s suffocating in a delicious sense that you and Joel are stuck here together in this rather..unfortunate situation. You hate him, and he hates you, yet the thought of his thick cock nestling between your thighs sounds like absolute heaven on a plate right now.

Joel thinks he’s on the verge of passing out from your vulgar statement. It’s been god knows how long since he’s felt the warmth of a woman’s body around his cock. It’s been too goddamn long, he thinks.

“..well, if you’re askin.’” He whispers as his hands maneuver your body to press back against him. One strong arm anchors itself around your waist, engaging you in a warm hold when you feel his hard, broad chest pressing against your back. You haven’t even seen his cock, yet you already can tell that he’s big. The word big might not even be able to describe the massive size that is Joel Miller.

“This doesn’t mean anything. Right, Joel?” You ask through the thick growing tension that coils itself around you and the burly man beside you like a snake.

“Doesn’t mean nothin’ at all, sweetheart. Jus’ sharin’ body heat for survival, like you said.” He rasps and blows a hot puff of air against the back of your neck as his strong thighs wrap around your own. Even this man’s feet are fucking huge in every sense.

Y’know what they say about big feet? An even bigger—heart. I was going to say heart.

“Okay.” You squeak out as you relax further into his hold around you.

“Can you jus’ let me know if you’re uncomfortable at any point? Cus’ if that’s the case, I’ll slip right out. No questions asked, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his apparent nervousness. It was sweet, in a Joel-like fashion. Hell must have frozen over right then and there because the Joel you had grown so accustomed to, was anything but sweet.

“Wow. You sure know how to romance a lady up, Miller. Did Tommy teach you how to do that?” You couldn’t help but wiggle your ass back against him. The thought of reaching down between your thighs and touching yourself crossed your mind, but you refrained.

He laughed, and it sent a wave of arousal gushing like a river because his laugh was beautiful. It was music to your fucking ears.

“Shut the fuck up.” His teeth grazed at the spot where your neck meets your jaw. He bit down, drawing blood to the surface of his indentation in your skin. “I taught Tommy everythin’ he needs to know on romancin’ a woman. Don’t get it twisted, sweetheart.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, big boy.” You nearly purred. Your back arched towards him, a suppressed moan desperate to be set free when his teeth marked you.

“I think someone is a bit too eager over this whole arrangement that we have found ourselves in.” He comments in a low rasp and his hand drifts down from your hip and nudges your thighs apart with a practiced ease. His heavy cock pressed firmly against your lower back as he let out another praising grunt from between his lips.

“Stop playing with me, Joel. I don’t want to be played with.” You hiss under your breath when you feel the backside of his knuckles slowly drag through the seam of your cunt.

“Y’sure about that, sweetheart? If you don’t wanna be played with, then what do you want?”

Frankly, he’s taking too long for your liking and you decided then and there to take matters into your own hands; literally. You reach between your bodies before he even has a chance to protest as you blindly search for his cock. Your warm palm barely fits around the girth of him.

“I want you to take your cock and stretch me open, Joel. Think you can handle that? Best not keep a lady waiting. It’s awfully rude.” You tsk under your breath.

He growls as his hips buck upwards into your hand like he’s never felt the touch of a woman’s palm before in his life.

“Fine. I like a woman that knows exactly what she wants, anyway. Won’t keep ya waitin’ any longer, princess.”

Joel Miller is a man of his word and just when you think he’s bluffing, you feel the thick press of the head of his cock sliding through your slick folds and notching at your entrance.

He groans against your ear, jaw clenching, and teeth grinding because you’re tight and hugging him like a fucking fist.

“Jesus fuck. That’s a tight cunt if I’ve ever felt one.” He rasps as you slowly pull him in further at the rate that he pushes his hips. Soon, he’s bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed into your ass. His legs stay tangled through yours as his arms come to wrap you up in his hold once more.

“Fuck.” You breathe, lashes fluttering as he stretches you open. He fits snuggly, almost as if your pussy was making a home for his cock to stay there awhile, all cozy and warm with you. “See? Was that so fucking difficult?”

He shakes his head and you swear you can feel him grinning against your skin. “Nope. It wasn’t difficult at all, sweetheart. In fact, I think I’ll stay here awhile.” Yeah, he’s definitely enjoying this.

You smile at this, burying your face into the solid muscle of his bicep, pressing the lightest kiss there. Maybe you even nibbled on it, and maybe he chuckled and pulled you in even closer.

“Stay as long as you’d please, Joel.” You whisper softly.

Come morning the embers from the fire had long since died out, and the storm had since passed. You and Joel were still a bunch of tangled limbs and connected warmth by the time Tommy and the rest of patrol had found you.

Joel had since grown soft with his cock still buried deep within your warmth and his face was buried in your neck with peaceful snores slipping past his plush lips. His eyes barely peeked open when he heard familiar voices muffled, yet nearby. Tommy had just brushed a bit of snow off the top of the sleeping bag and pulled the zipper down when he was met with a sight that he wasn’t expecting.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He chuckled and shot his big brother a cheeky wink.

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eternaldecisions · 4 months

Text

alexa play . . . hands on me by Ariana Grande .ᐟ.ᐟ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ summary: You and Matthew, never liked each other, principally after an incident at a party, and when you found out your childhood bestfriend was kissing the person you hated the most, making intrusive thoughts take care of your body.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ warnings: Smut, rough sex, fem!receiving, degradation kink, spitting, enemies trope!! || ⸝⸝ author’s note: this is for @fawnchives !

The dazzling LED lights dominate your sight, enveloping your vision as you walk thru the party your best friend has just kicked off.

several couples getting drunk and making out in the corners, girls getting loose on the dance floor by the song “Hands on me” by Ariana Grande, why not join on the dance floor?

Making your way to the dance floor, excusing yourself to pass thru multiple people, the party was definitely crowded.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you get closer to the destination, put everything good in your mind disappears when you bump in the person you wanted to see the least.

Matthew Sturniolo.

You and him never liked each other, and had a big rivalry since high school, well firstly he was always a bitch to you, secondly you couldn’t stand seeing his attractive face structure everywhere.

The red cup filled with beer, spilled on his shirt, well lucky him it was a black shirt, if it was a white one it would be worse.

Im met with the pair of his blue eyes staring at me deadly, it scared you at the same time, but why be scared at a two faced loser?

“You never watch where you walk don’t you?” His gaze meet your body, taking a long up and down look, observing every detail of the outfit you had picked.

“Why are you such a asshole?” You comment, your gaze meeting his a light chuckle leaving his mouth.

“You owe me a new shirt, y’know?”

“Too bad, in your dreams maybe it happens.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes staring to walk away, he watches your figure disappearing into the crowded dance floor.

03:46AM

Multiple songs you liked were on and that made the party enjoyable, you smile with your friend Lizzie as you walk to a couch together refilling both of your cups, sounds of giggles escaping your lips as you two were enveloped in talking shit about people you didn’t like.

“Y’know, I hate Matth-“ you cut off yourself as you look to a corner right in your front, but still a bit far away, your eyes met the tall figure of Matthew as he basically as sucking the neck of your childhood bestfriend, Mila.

A strong grip on the cup is planted by the strength your hands make, Mila knew you hated him but she didn’t help it and offer herself to the guy you despised.

“That two faced cunt.” You mumble, Lizzie looking at you confused, you land your cup on the nearest table, beginning to walk outside for some fresh air.

Sitting on the crosswalk, as the wind hits your face you look to the street cars passing by, but one car calls out your attention.

Matthew’s Lamborghini Urus, parked the closest to you, a wicked grin forms in your face as your mind forms, why not ruin his car?

There was a lot of possibilities to ruin it, but the easiest was keying his car.

You suddenly remember you have needle in your shirt, after a problem had happened with your pink jersey, removing carefully the sharp object, standing up and walking up close to the driver’s passenger part, kneeling down, you started keying his car, damaging the shiny black painting, a white long line in his passenger door.

You smile to yourself, nothing better that knowing how man act when their precious car is ruined, and Matt’s car being ruined made you happy, he had what he deserved.

As you stand up once again, planting the clothe needle again in your jersey turning around, you meet face to face with Matthew.

Oh fuck.

In your mind you thought this would work because if you damaged and you disappeared after, he wouldn’t know it was you, maybe he could have an idea, but still.

His gaze turns to a anger look as he looks at you, he had been watching you all the time, and this wasn’t good, he crossed his arms against his chest, his muscles flexing as his voice starts echoing thru your ears, shivers being sent down your spine.

“You think you’re that clever don’t you?” He says, before you could reply, he shuts you off immediately by speaking again.

“Not only you bump into me with your clumsiness, spilling your beer on my shirt that now, you had to ruin my fucking car.” Every word that he spit out of his mouth he got even closer to you.

“Well maybe I have my reasons to key your car.”

“Are you mad that Mila was kissing me?” The anger in his voice was still visible, but he couldn’t help it and let a chuckle escape his mouth as a smirk is on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe I am because she was my bestfriend, and she knows damn well that I hate you!” You exclaim, you cross your arms just like he had, as you interlock eyes with him.

“That doesn’t give you any stupid fucking reason to key my car.” You open your mouth to comment, but before, a hand creeps up on your waist turning you around forcedly guiding you to the passengers side.

“Let me go!” You utter, as you try to remove his hand off you, but his grip was too strong.

“Why don’t you shut up that dirty fucking mouth of yours, hm?” He whispers in your ear as you can feel the smirk he has on his face, opening the door for you, you enter on the car, sitting and remaining silent for the rest of the ride, wherever he was taking you.

The whole car ride was silent, after he drove it to a luxury neighborhood, you knew he was driving to his house, his jaw was clenched most of the time and he was going 305 km/h, it was too fast to your liking.

As he parked his car, opening the electronic garage, he quickly left his side, going the other way to open yours, he grabbed you by the wrist making you gasp at the sudden act.

“You’re too mad just for a little damage in your car, I was having fun at the party.” You lie thru gritted teeth, for a moment it was but the second Matt was there, it had ruin everything.

“You’re a damn brat, maybe we can put you in your place isn’t it?” He states, his jaw still hardly clenched, his side profile being heavenly, like a sorta of Greek God had structured it.

You roll your eye as he guides you thru the big mansion he owned, every part of the place with different paintings and different furniture.

As you both go upstairs, he leads you to his room, the same time you step your feet inside, he is locking the door and pinning you against the wall, your faces being inches close.

“Now tell me hm? You wanted to be Mila didn’t you.” His strong cologne filled your nostrils, the same way your sweet scent filled his.

His hands creep up to your inner thigh, a sudden gasp leaving your mouth as you remain silent.

“What, cat got your tongue?” Matt utters, his soft lips attacking your neck, leaving wet kisses and marks, as his right hand kept going even more up arriving close to your pink laced panties.

His hand went fast to your core, how fast it was taken of there, as he picks you up in bridal style, positioning myself in his bed, as he tops me.

He pulls away my pink jersey throwing somewhere across his room, if someone ever told me i would be getting naked with the guy I hated, i would probably slapped me across the face.

His large hands find way to my denim skirt yanking it off, now i’m only left in my match bra and panties, how nice.

“You don’t need to lie, you’ve always wanted this as much as I did.” He commented ripping off my bra, my mouth wide how easily he had the strength to rip off the fabric.

“You owe me a new bra, idiot.”

He chuckles, as he pushes you close to him, his face leaning close to your stomach as he plants kisses along the way.

He gets each time closer to your core, making you clench around nothing, he pulls your panties to the side, with no warning, his tongue is deep down in my pussy, as a long moan leaves my lips.

I can feel the stupid smirk as he eats me out, his hands gripping my thighs to not let me move, he pulls leans up again, getting close to my face once again, smashing his lips against mine in a heavy roughy kiss, making me taste my juices in his tongue.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.” The nickname made me wetter more then I was, i obey, sticking my tongue out, as he yanks his two fingers into, and i instinctively suck on them, dripping them with my saliva.

A wicked grin is planted on his face as the two digits are on my core, rubbing my puffy clit, as my mouth is open, soft moans leaving it which was music to his ears.

“Feels good getting pleasure by your enemy doesn’t it.” He expresses as his hands keep rubbing your clit faster.

“i still fucking hate you.” You spit it out, a loud moan leaving your mouth right after.

“The way your hips buck for more, it says otherwise doll.”

The please accumulated in your body leaves as he takes off the two fingers that were in your clit to his mouth, you watch him suck on it, tasting yourself once again.

Suddenly, his hands are removing his belt and his baggy jeans, seeing him in his Calvin Klein boxers, his hard cock wanting to be more than released.

Pulling his underwear down his dick hitting his stomach, you never had an idea he was that long, you can be a little thing but you like that long.

He leans down to your core, a full spit landing on it making you wince, your juices and his spit now combined.

He strokes himself a few times before slamming into you, a groan leaving his mouth as you moan in synchronization with him.

My head is thrown back, as he doesn’t give me time to adjust fully starting to thrust in and out of me, he wasn’t just some couple of inches, he had enough inches to bruise my cervix and leave me hanging for more.

“You liked being fuck like a slut don’t you?” He chuckles, keeping thrusting, my mind couldn’t even form words, my back arching for more, his dick had the perfect size to hit my g-sport.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, fuck.. I love it.” You moan our, your head throw back in his pillows, his hands finding way to smack your ass, the real meaning of pain and pleasure.

He smirks, as he gets closer to my face pulling me in a rough kiss, my moans being muffled by it, his thrusts were each time more rough then the before, he wasn’t like other guy that would fuck a girl just to cum inside her and leave, oh he was for sure waiting to see your face knowing he was the one giving you all the pleasure.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna.” Before you could finish your sentence you cum all around his dick making a mess in the sheets below.

“Making a mess on my dick like the fucking slut you are.”

He pulls out, stroking his dick a few times before painting your lower and upper body with his cum, before collapsing on top of you.

Sweaty beads were formed during the act, your panty and heavy breaths in sync together, as you catch your breath all you could hear was his deep voice echoing thru your ears.

“Y’know, instead of watching me suck your best friends neck, if you ever need my hands on you, don’t be scared to ask, it is better then keying my car for that attention.”

#eternaldecisions #sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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mickyschumacher · 11 months

Note

can i request something for carlos sainz x leclerc!reader on vacation?there’s such a soft spot in me for summer vacation carlos like in a beach setting or on a yacht. it can be soft or smutty it doesn’t matter i just love summery carlos. thank you!!!

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐈 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: while the leclercs maybe spending their summer vacation at home, you opted for a secret vacation in santorini with your secret boyfriend, carlos sainz. or in which you are secretly dating your brother's teammate.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), reader dob in 1999, dating in secret trope!, sainz & leclerc = google translated spanish & french ._., ig the reader has a shaved downstairs?, p in v, teasing, oral sex, lovey dovey smut?, poor humour, breastplay, fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, scandal and swift references, love confessions.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x younger leclerc!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: firm agree on the summery carlos! is it really my writing if i don't get santorini involved? anyways, hope this was up to your standards! sorry for the long wait! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

Dating your brother's teammate was never on your bucket list. Hell, you tried to stay away from Formula 1. Well, as much as Leclerc could anyways.

People older than you weren't really your type. You opted for people near your age. That way there wasn't an awkward generation gap and there was no one that reminded you of your older brothers. Carlos was only five years older than you but the generational gap was most certainly there.

Men your age were... well, boys.

Men Carlos' age were men but also men.

You had seen Carlos at races before. And he was an attractive man, obviously. But that was that. You passed each other down the paddock, barely giving each other a glance. And not to mention the obvious, you were far too young for him at the time.

But then Ferrari's first car launch after signing Carlos had happened.

You had seen Carlos more in the few hours the event lasted than the past few years. You didn't know what it was. Whether you were unintentionally stalking him or vice versa. What you did know, however, he was definitely eyeing you.

By the time Charles had introduced you, Arthur, Lorenzo, and your mother, Carlos was trying to keep his interest at bay, pretending to be as family-friendly as possible.

Carlos ended up catching you as you came out of the bathroom, smoothly asking for your number. And as much as you wanted to give it to him, you weren't going to be easy. You were a Leclerc for crying out loud.

If Carlos wanted you, he would have to earn you.

And boy did he try.

You had heard from several people and the Internet that Carlos was a hardcore romantic. You never thought about it up until he started pulling out all the stops.

He was attentive as hell, remembering your favourite drinks, slipping you a new book to read as he talked to Charles, purposely linking his pinky with yours as discreetly as he could just so he could see you flush in front of him, sending you clothes for you to wear to his races to your apartment...

Carlos was menace.

But somewhere along the line, he became your menace.

You and Carlos were the epitome of the saying 'Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours'.

Keeping it secret... sure it was frustrating at times. The both of you had person after person trying to get with you because, well, you were a Leclerc and he was Carlos Sainz. Carlos had managed to draw a line by telling people he had a girlfriend but he didn't want to reveal her.

Yeah... it didn't settle well with the grid, in particular the three gossipers of the grid: Pierre, Lando, and your brother.

But after all the little bumps in the road, it was smooth sailing.

Most of the time you spent time together was alone, just the two of you. That way, there was no risk of being caught and you could revel in each other.

Of course, it wasn't that easy. Nothing was easy with you and Carlos, especially given that you couldn't keep your hands off of one another. Carlos a slight more than you because you had the decency and fear of embarrassment of getting caught by anyone. Carlos, on the other hand, was as indecent as they come. Hands always looking for an excuse to touch you, eyes travelling to find you first in any room, sending dirty texts when you sat across him... like you said, he was a menace.

To make things easier for yourself, for this summer break, you and Carlos had picked trusty Santorini as a romantic getaway, taking his dog Piñon as a welcomed third wheeler. Filled with so many tourists that you and Carlos would look like any regular couple there.

"Now this is a summer break," You breathed out, walking on to the yacht you had rented out for your stay in Greece. The air was clean and crisp, the sun was already beating down on you despite it being nine in the morning, and the translucent blue waters brought you a sense of familiarity that Monaco held.

"Don't you agree, Piñon?" You cooed to the soft ball of white curled up into your arms. A small bark of agreement came from the dog, tail wagging in happiness.

Carlos chuckled behind you, putting down your bags on the deck, under the shade. His thick arms enveloped your waist, bringing you closer to him. Nestling his chin into your shoulder, he said, "That's good, hermosa (beautiful). Now try saying it in Spanish."

You made a face at his teasing tone. Pulling yourself out of his grasp, you turned towards him. "Ahora son unas vacaciones de verano. ¿No estás de acuerdo, mi querido Carlos?" You recreated the same coaxing tone you had given Piñon to your lover, pinching his cheek with the energy of an overly endearing mother. Now this is a summer break. Don't you agree, my dear Carlos?

Carlos gave you a pointed look. You were teasing him. You knew he liked when you spoke Spanish because it was cute to see you fumble over the words but it also meant a lot to him that you were trying.

You rolled your eyes at his reaction and settled Piñon on the deck after making sure it wasn't too hot for those small paws of his. You watched him trot around the yacht, carefully examining his surrounding to test his boundaries.

Satisfied that Piñon was safe, you turned back to Carlos. "Brunch?"

"Brunch..." Carlos trailed off, hand reaching out to your face. The soft pad of his thumb graze your lips, gently pulling on your bottom lip to watch it bounce back. "...or brunch?" He asked, voice heavy with a clear need.

Your body thrived with an eagerness to respond to his touch. Goosebumps were the paint to the canvas of your skin, littering each part of you even though you were impossibly warm in the sun. You really wanted brunch. But your stomach wanted brunch. Instead, you simply nodded to him, agreeing with the answer he had never said. "You're right. Food is very important."

Carlos groaned at your response. "Hermosa," He sighed out, bringing his arms around your waist to pull you close yet again. "I want you," He murmured against your skin, nose brushing against your cheek and hot breath wandering down your neck.

Carlos could feel you smile at his words. "And you have me... for two whole weeks," You reminded him, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek.

Carlos curled his lip in annoyance at your reminder while he revelled in your touch. "I could have you for four," He also reminded you.

You sighed. You hadn't seen him in three weeks because life had it's mysterious ways of making the both of you busy. You wanted nothing more than a month with Carlos. But it was far too suspicious.

You had barely convinced your mother and your brothers that you were going to Santorini for a 'self-exploration' trip. Charles had immediately offered to turn it into a family trip but you managed to settle him down by saying you would spend the last two weeks with them. Alexandra had been a sweetheart in the matter as well. She was the only one, as well as Kika and Lily, that had known about you and Carlos, claiming they sensed it from 'a mile away'.

What they truly meant was that Carlos wouldn't stop eye-fucking you from a far.

"It's okay," You mumbled woefully, patting his chest softly, "I'll be with you in spirit while you reign Madrid."

Carlos held in his eye roll at your theatrics, you had a flair for them. "I wish you would reign Madrid with me instead. I want you to meet the family, let me finally teach you golf, go to the holiday house with me, hmm?" He implored, chocolate brown flickering to search yours.

The pain behind your eyes made him feel frustrated. He knew how much you wanted to do that because you wanted the same thing with your family. "How 'bout I call Charles, hmm? I'm sure he'll understand."

The thought of Charles finding out from anyone but you made you shudder. Would he understand? What was so understandable about hiding the fact you were dating his teammate for over a year, especially over a call?

Arthur, amongst Charles and Lorenzo, would probably be the most hurt. You and him told each other everything. You guys were the closest in age, similar to how Lorenzo and Charles were. Hell, you even helped him confess and get with Carla. And he was waiting to do the same for you, with some he trusted and knew.

And Lorenzo? It was really for the best if he didn't know from Carlos. He had initially told you not to get too close to any of the drivers because he was worried for you and well, the reputation of F1 drivers and dating wasn't too great. But you were quite sure that anything you and Carlos did had crossed the line of 'too close'. '

"Carlos, mi amor, I love you, but I think the idea of brunch, not brunch, is more understanding."

━━━━━━━━━━━

After your brunch, you had spent some time reading to Carlos inside the yacht, not wanting to get into the water just after you had eaten nor wanting to go out when the sunshine was at it's peak.

It was serene.

The windows were open, letting a cool breeze come and help reduce the heat and you were both sprawled on the soft mattresses that served as sofas on the floor of the yacht. The calmness and peace you had desired amongst the chaos life and F1 brought.

You were half sure that Carlos was close to falling asleep in your lap, but not by your retelling of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, after Carlos refused to see Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen for the sixth time this year, but by the way your combed your hand through his hair as you read. (Although you were still going to be persistent because the concept of seeing those two on screen in Santorini out of all places was a need, not a want).

"Carlos, mon beau (my handsome), you're going to fall asleep. Let's go swimming," You told him, placing your bookmark in between the pages and closing the book.

Carlos groaned, looking up at you. He held your hand close to his chest. "No, it's way too hot. Don't you see the water? It looks like lava."

You narrowed your eyes. "That precisely why we should go swimming. We can't just sit here and mope around. We're in Santorini... we need to stand up and move around."

Carlos lifted his head from your lap, sitting straight so he faced you. You let out a quick yelp when he pulled you forward, placing you onto his lap, legs straddling him. "I can think about fifty ways to stand up and move around... in fifty different positions."

You could feel your thighs involuntarily clench around him. You know he felt it to. You gasped at his words and shook your head. "You are a heathen, Carlos Sainz. A barbarian... a hooligan, a sexually-driven simpleton must I continue?"

"Well, I recall you loving this heathen, infidel, barbarian, and hooligan," Carlos shrugged, warm hands inching up the white sundress you had worn this morning. The action sent a shudder down your spine.

"Carlos," You mumbled, already falling into a state where you were losing the words to speak your thoughts as Carlos kneaded the flesh of your thighs with his rough hands.

"Yes?" Those puppy brown eyes flickered to your eyes while he brought his mouth to your thighs, opting to graze your heated skin with the teeth. "Tell me what you want, hermosa. And I'll give it to you."

You faltered at his words. His gaze was heavy with a dark blaze that sent your stomach churning. You allowed yourself to fully straddle Carlos' lap, teeth sinking into your bottom lip when you felt Carlos' clothed bulge press into your core.

Carlos struggled to prevent a strained hiss escape his gritted teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening, your flesh escaping the confines of his hands. Fuck, were your thighs so enticing to Carlos. He wanted to bite them and bruise them so even weeks later, they were covered in the reminiscents of him.

"What do you want, baby? Please tell me," Carlos begged, eyes desperately searching your own for any sign or indication of what you wanted.

You felt your core clench at the plea falling from Carlos' plump lips. You hadn't even really done anything but he was ready to serve you. Everything was foggy. You couldn't think straight. "I want... I want you, Carlos. Fuck, anything, everything... I–make love to me. Show me how much you love me."

His roaming hands came to a halt. "Mierda (shit)," Carlos cursed, bringing his tongue to swipe his bottom lip.

He could do that. He would love you so much that the entirety of Santorini would know and no one would even question your relationship with him.

Carlos brought his hands to your back, feeling the numerous strings of your dress against the pads of his fingers. One hand worked to undo the very knots he had done this morning while the other creeped up the back of your neck, pulling your head closer to his.

He brought his lips to yours, pressing them with an indescribable urgency. Your hands shot out to his chest, fisting the soft material of the polo you had chosen for him into a small bundle.

You gasped into the kiss, feeling a sudden breeze of cold air as the strings of your dress fell flat against your skin. Carlos' hands wandered down the surface of your back, coming to a stop at your waist.

The urge to get even closer to you coursed through Carlos' veins, pulling you flush against him. A moan fell from his swollen lips as you parted to fill the craving of some oxygen. Your pussy was pressed tight against his cock and your breasts were soft, pushed against his chest.

Carlos ventured to move his lips down the side of your jaw, edging towards your barren neck, aching to decorate you with aging and unique shades of purple and blue.

You let out a series of sinful whimpers upon the feeling of your skin being sucked at, feeding directly into his constrained cock. "Carlos..." You moaned out, eyes shut in pure pleasure, "They'll know. The–They'll ask q-questions."

"I know." You shivered as you feel him grin against your skin.

You watched him through your half-lidded eyes, moving up from your neck to look at you with his blistering gaze. With one simple movement, he took off his shirt, revealing his taut golden skin. Christ.

You sat still breathlessly on his lap as Carlos peeled off your dress, pulling your arms through the white material. The cool breeze trickled over your bare breasts, nipples hardening almost instantly.

Carlos let a warm hand rest over your rib, lifting you gently to remove your dress fully. He sighed, laying you down on the mattress. The tips of his fingers travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, the hairs of your body standing straight at his touch.

"You know what it is a tragedy, hermosa?" Carlos queried, watching you quiver underneath him, chest heavily rising up and down.

He smiled at your asking through your eyes because the words just couldn't come out of your throat. "You will never see yourself the way I see you. Eres una sirena... obra de Dios. If He didn't put you on this Earth that would've been his biggest sin." You are a siren… God's work.

If your throat wasn't tied up before, it surely was now. You looked at him with a soft gaze, watching him come near you to press his lips on your own. You whimpered, feeling his hands travel towards your breasts, fondling your mounds with a cautious roughness that sent your stomach tingling.

You frowned at the loss of his lips but the complaint subsided upon the feel of his hot tongue swirling around your pebbled nipple. He paid attention to every flick and every crevice, keeping his deep eyes trained on you. He smiled at your hiss as he purposely grazed his teeth against your nipple.

Carlos removed his lips from your nipple, moving his head back to hover over your pussy. Still keeping his eyes on you, you watched in silence as the hot saliva fell from his lips, bubbly strings landing directly onto your glistening folds. Fucking hell.

"Eyes on me, baby," He told you, looking at your clenched eyes.

Your eyes shot open as Carlos took one long stripe of your folds, your hips bucking at the sudden sensation. Lingering a second too long on your clit, his tongue continued to work up towards your stomach and the valley of your breasts, returning his attention to your other nipple.

Your mouth fell open, feeling his fingers rub your wet folds, spreading his saliva around your pussy. While his tongue worked your nipple, he thrusted a thick finger into your walls. With your eyes rolling back, you attempted to fist the thick material of the mattress but to no avail.

"Fuckk, Carlos," You whimpered, writhing at his touch.

"Finally found your words, hmm?" Carlos teased, adding another finger into his torturous slow pace. His eyes were glued to watching your hips out of his periphery, snapping up to try and ride his fingers. As laboured breaths fell from your lips, he pushed his digits even further, aiming to reach a specific spot.

Smoothly, Carlos grabbed a nearby pillow, putting it under your lower back to bring you some comfort and a whole new level of pleasure. He stared at your face intently: your mouth had fallen wide open with a ghost whisper of his name flowing into the air, sweat glistened over your flushed face, pooling near the edges of your hair and neck, and your lips were swollen with the prettiest shade of red he had ever seen.

"Carlos," You managed to get out with your brain practically turning into jelly. "Carlos, please, I don't want to cum like this. I need your cock, please."

Carlos' cock throbbed at your pleas. "Your wish is my command, princesa."

Hearing your whines upon the loss of his fingers, Carlos took off his blue shorts faster than he had ever done in his life.

Even though you had been with Carlos sexually for a while, your cheeks still flamed when you saw his cock. Not out of embarrassment or unadulterated innocence. No. It was outright heat that was getting to you.

Every time you saw his cock, it was a violent shade of red, throbbing and aching, leaving Carlos begging to be touched by you.

You watched as Carlos leaned forward, hovering over you. It was beyond you how exactly pretty Carlos was. You hadn't realised until he started courting you. You had no idea how you were supposed to live without seeing his thicket of brown locks, his freckles that could only be depicted if you were close to him otherwise they blended with his prickly stubble, the smug smile he constantly wore to hide himself, and especially his big brown eyes that made you bend to his command.

"Carlos?" You softly called out.

Carlos' ears perked up at your gentle tone. He smiled down at you with raised brows. His hands continued to travel your body, retracing every curve and fold as he had committed to his memory. "Sí, mi hermosa?"

You ran a hand through his hair before caressing his cheek. God, he was your beautiful boy. "Je t'aime plus que tu ne peux l'imaginer." I love you more than you can imagine.

You knew he didn't speak French despite spending this many years with Charles but it often comes from you naturally when you were too caught up in your feelings.

"Je ne pense pas que ce soit le cas. You don't know how my every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. I can't breathe without you. Every race, I hope you're there waiting for me because you're pretending to wait for Charles. Hermosa, I exist for you. No one else." I don't think you do.

Your eyes widened, fresh tears lining your waterline. "You understood–you learned French?" You whispered, voice barely audible.

Carlos grinned. "I'm quite sure I said a lot of after that but yes, I did learn French for you... surprise!"

You suppressed the urge to push him off of you and gave him a long kiss. Pulling back, you laughed gently. "You're an idiot... making me cry during sex. And not even in the good way!" You feigned your complaint.

"Well, we still have tonight and thirteen more days. Today I'm just showing how much I love you," He whispered above your lips, hips lining up with yours.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling Carlos' cock brush past your folds. You both moaned in unison as he pushed his cock into your pussy. Your walls wrapped around his cock tightly, gripping him like a vice.

Carlos cursed several profanities under his breath, head lolling back while pleasure coursed through his body. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. His cock ached at the high-pitched mewl that fell from your swollen lips.

His hands fell to your hips, holding you tightly, slowly shifting you up and down his length, burying his cock in you.

You closed your eyes, letting your forehead rest on Carlos'. You can feel him staring at you, taking all of you in: every hue of your flushed state, your eyelashes riddled with tears and sweat, the heavenly and sinful sounds from your lips, and your greased hair.

"You are breathtaking," Carlos whispered against you.

You smiled, opening your eyes to meet his and rolling your hips slowly in response. "You make me feel so good," You praised.

A rough moan was elicited from Carlos, throat tight and choked up from your words and actions. He could barely function seeing your bare pussy take his cock so well, let alone how the tip of his cock throbbed when he lifted you up. His own eyes were beginning to shut as he revelled in the ecstasy you brought hip.

Fuck, you were so wet. You looked down at your thighs, seeing the obscene sheen of your arousal coat spread to Carlos' thighs. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, hips snapping to create a rhythm.

"Carlos, I, fuck," You blabbered in complete disarray. You were beginning to seem the edges of a familiar white light.

Although Carlos appreciated the sign, he could tell by the way you were clenched so tightly around his cock, getting his cock to pulsate every few seconds, that you were going to come.

He moved his hands between your legs, watching you sink over his cock one more time before he obstructed the view by using his thumb to rub your clit in circles.

"Mierda," Carlos cussed, feeling you grip his cock even further if it was possible. "Cum for me, mi amor."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You repeated the expletive as if it were a mantra, hips bucking as white clouded your vision. You let out a loud moan, body shaking as waves of your climax hit you one after the other.

Not a second later, Carlos was cumming too. His hips rutted against yours in almost an unrecognisable desperation, the peak of his ecstasy right within his grasp. His cock pulsed while his hips came to a falter, stuttering as ropes of his white cum spilled into you, warming your walls.

"F-Fuck," Carlos groaned, feeling your pussy clamp around him, trying to take every last drop of his cum.

You feel Carlos slump forward into you, exhausted. Gently, you lifted yourself off of his cock, wincing at your sensitivity. You fell straight onto the mattress, panting heavily.

"Shit!" You yelped as Carlos pushed some of his leaking come back into and circle your clit. You shook at the mini aftermath of your orgasm before calming back down.

"Satisfied?" You nudged Carlos playfully, knowing damn well Carlos liked to go the extra mile when it came to you.

"Very," Carlos commented, reaching his arms out to bring you closer to him.

You sighed, resting your head on his chest. The exhaustion was very quickly seeping into the both of you. Carlos' heartbeat was beginning to work as a lullaby and Carlos had found your warmth far more comforting than any mattress or duvet.

"Hermosa," He called, making you hum for you had no energy to speak. "We need to tell them."

You found yourself trying to open your eyes. When had they closed? You turned to face him, chin resting on his heated torso. You pressed a brief kiss and said, "I know. Let's tell them in a few days. So they have at least a week to yell at me."

Carlos frowned at your words. "I'll be right there with you. You know that right? I'm not letting you do this alone."

You smiled after letting out a small yawn. "I know, I know. I'm grateful. Thank you, mi amor."

Carlos returned the gesture, kissing your forehead gently. He rubbed your shoulders, feeling the dark abyss of slumber slowly call to him. "Anything for you, hermosa."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz

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darkcircles4lyfe · 6 months

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it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

#lin speaks #bnha meta #bnha manga #bnha 419 #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk

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targaryen-dynasty · 8 months

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TO STOKE A FLAME.

Aemond Targaryen x servant!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, oral (m receiving), power imbalance (prince and maid), mutual pining, female Reader

WORDS: 4K

NOTES: this is written for the writing challenge hosted by @targaryenvampireslayer I got the prompt "Just relax for me, I'll make it feel good" and the trope mutual pining. This was my first time writing mutual pining, and I hope it's at least slightly fitting lol.

When you’re first assigned to cleaning the chambers of the King’s second son, your heart leaps for it means you are able to escape the tortures of being a scullery maid for a position that is at least a bit higher ranked, and not as ungrateful and strainful.

Prince Aemond is an early riser, already up long before first light, and whenever he sets off to train with the sword in the morning, it’s time for you to take care of his quarters.

There’s another maid that has been offered the same opportunity, only that she is in charge of making the chambers Prince Aegon presentable, and from what you have gathered, you wouldn’t want to trade places with her.

Aemond’s chambers are always immaculate when you step into them. Everything is in its place, and the air is always filled with the cool morning breeze from the windows he’s kept open. Quite different to the quarters of his older brother.

But what they do have in common are their questionable reputations.

While Aegon is promiscuous, known to pinch and fondle at any serving girl who strays within his reach, Aemond is somewhat feared, at least among the staff. Most servant girls keep well away from the prince, and a part of you is certain it is solely because of the black eyepatch he dons after losing his eye, and the grim expression he usually holds on his face.

The other maid that tends to his chambers with you is overly cautious when dusting or putting fresh linens on his bed, something that even makes you swallow thickly. However, you can’t seem to bring yourself to share their sentiment.

How could you?

Despite only meeting the prince very briefly, you feel like every day that you sweep through his chambers, you get to know him more and more. If there’s bedlam following in Aemond’s wake when he leaves in the morning, it merely consists of several books scattered all over his desk, his armchairs and sometimes even his bed.

Most of them deal with dragon lore, history, and a variety of other subjects which you wouldn’t expect to be read by any other lord, making clear that the prince is very well educated, and always strives to learn more.

And though he keeps his chambers mostly spotless, there’s very much of his personality in them – if you read between the lines.

More oft than not, the armchairs close to the fireplace don’t stand in their usual positions, turned to the side to face each other with one of them being piled by books or scrolls. And you know from the servants that he’s often found sitting beside the fireplace either in deep thought or engrossed in a book with the flames of the fire dancing in the corner of his eye.

You’re cleaning his quarters all by yourself today for Darla, the other maid assigned, has been called to take care of something else, which means you’re granted slightly more time for Aemond’s chambers.

Kneeling in front of the fireplace, you’re knocking off as much ash and debris as possible back into it, before some of it is swept up and emptied into the pail standing next to you.

You’ve been a bit too engrossed in your task when the doors behind you burst open, catching you by surprise and startling you. There’s only one person that could and would enter the prince’s quarters at this hour of the day – the prince himself.

As you hurry to get back on your feet, already straightening and dusting off the skirt of your maid attire, you’re a bit too quick and hit your head on the ledge of the fireplace, your mob cap falling to the ground in the process.

It’s a stinging pain that shoots right through your whole body, and a throbbing that settles at the crown of your head. You bring a hand up to soothe the pain at least a bit, before you’re reminded of the reason why you got up in the first place.

Gritting your teeth, you take in a sharp breath and lower your hand, bobbing a small curtsy with a strained ‘Prince Aemond’ leaving your lips to the man that stands still in the room, clearly regarding you.

“My apologies, I–” you say, trying to make excuses and wanting to state that you’re just about to leave, but he cuts you off.

“Are you well?” he asks, though there is a lilt of amusement in his voice. “I apologize for startling you, that was not my intent.”

What’s even more unusual than him apologizing to you, a servant, for barging into his own chambers is that he's inquiring about your well-being. You’ve never before been acknowledged by any of the Targaryen’s, not that you expected it, and feeling his gaze on you kind of makes you nervous.

He raises his brow when there doesn’t come an answer from you, and you take it as your cue to speak. “I–Yes, Prince Aemond,” you stutter, bowing your head. Raising it again, your hand brushes the crown of it briefly, the spot still throbbing despite it happening a few moments ago. “I am well. It’s–It’s nothing, my prince.”

Gathering your things, you’re caught off guard for a second time since he’s entered his chambers as he slowly approaches you. He has a sympathetic smile on his lips now, and you’re not sure if it’s the embarrassment or him coming close enough to tower above you, but your body feels like it’s been put on fire.

“Are you certain you’re well?” he asks, eye flitting from your head to meet your eyes. “You’ve struck your head rather hard.”

He reaches to inspect the spot on your head, yet he hesitates and pulls back right before his fingers could brush your hair. You’re slightly disappointed, but your pounding heart is grateful. Just the mere proximity brings a blush to your cheeks and has you shifting your weight from one leg to the other, and you’re certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle him touching you.

There’s a moment of silence between you, and your hands clutch the handle of the pail tight enough for your knuckles to blanch from the force. It’s unnerving, and you’re torn between wanting to stay and wanting to leave. You’re afraid he’s not the man you’ve made up in your mind, that there’s just a hint of truth in the rumors that make their way around staff and court.

His voice cuts through the silence like a sharp blade, smooth and somewhat calming. “What’s your name?”

Taking in a deep breath, you tell him your name, but not without your eyes darting to the ground. His gaze is heavy, too heavy for you to meet it, and you feel as though there’s something else than curiosity woven within it.

“You’re quite flustered over nothing,” he hums, and the way your name slips past his lips with so much ease almost makes you melt right then and there; at least it’s enough to make you forget that he’s clearly noticed the effect he has on you.

Aemond takes note of you being nervous around him, his attention causing your blood to rush through your veins. It seems as though it’s a rather strong reaction that you have to him, something not many women feel when he comes near them. It’s endearing.

Your eyes flicker upwards to meet his good one again, and you straighten your back for another curtsy.

“M-my apologies, Prince Aemond.”

You can spot the exact moment the corners of his lips curl into a teasing smirk, your timid demeanor and your nervousness the trigger for it. And being as cocky as he is, he thinks he could have a bit of fun with you.

“It seems you’re rather out of sorts for something so trivial,” he notes, his tone teasing and playful, matching the flicker of mischief in his eye. “Perhaps I should inspect you myself to see if you have in fact sustained any injuries.”

His words make you feel as if the world around you is slowing down, making everything feel almost unbearable. You’re finding it incredibly hard to look him in the eye without blushing or your breath becoming heavy, and therefore fix them on the ground again. Noticing his large feet in comparison to your much smaller ones, your thoughts briefly stray to what else of him might be large.

But before you can answer him, or your thoughts can dive deeper, Aemond places a hand beneath your chin and gently tilts your face back up for you to meet his gaze. You’ve only seen one other in passing, and even then you’re certain he’s paid no mind to you at all, so his touch comes unexpected. But you don’t tense, and you certainly don’t pull away. However, you’re unsure if you should give in and lean into it.

His finger brushes along your jawline, trailing down the curve of your neck, and coming close to your collarbone, a heat following in its wake. He stops for a second, as if he’s debating whether or not he should move his touch any further.

Aemond’s surprised by your reaction, yet he also realizes that you’re much more interesting than any of the other maids for they were all alike – all not daring to look at him or stay in his presence for longer than a few minutes. But you’re different.

He could already tell by the way you so neatly clean and store his books when he’s spent his night reading by the fire, or how you seem to pay extra attention when you’re putting fresh linens on his bed, fluffing his pillows without the hurry the previous chambermaid has had.

And seeing his touch having such a significant impact on you, the little maid he’s spent so much time dreaming and fantasizing about, feeds a desire he didn’t have before – the desire to bed you, to claim you.

“Get on your knees,” he orders, hooded eye looking down at you.

Swallowing thickly, your mind struggles to comprehend what he asked of you. “I-what?” you stammer in disbelief.

“You heard me. On your knees.” He’s a bit firmer now, and uses the slight grip he has on your shoulder to give you a little help sinking down. You follow his lead, the pail rattling onto the ground.

Your hands are folded in your lap when you gaze up at him, eyes wide and curiously studying his next move. With your thumbs brushing over each other, you try to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, grazing your skin to distract yourself from the throbbing that blossoms between your legs.

Aemond looms over you, reaching out to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s something in the position you’re in, and the combination of his gentle touch and stern orders that gets to your head, and lures you in to lean into his hand. It also makes you a bit bolder as you place a hand on his thigh in return.

It piques his interest, obvious in the way he raises a brow, and his eye flickers to where your hand rests on his body. But he doesn’t shy away from the touch.

“Do you know what I require of you?” Aemond asks, sterner than before.

You bow your head, batting your eyelashes at him in an innocent manner. “I do, my Prince.”

That’s all he has to hear before he swiftly unlaces the front of his breeches and tugs them down barely enough to free his cock and stones, the sight alone making your breath hitch in your throat. He’s well endowed, and far bigger than the cock of the one man you’ve slept with before.

You release a shaky breath, replaying all the knowledge you’ve gathered about pleasuring a man with your mouth, and catch a whiff of musk mixed with the salty smell of sweat – he’s definitely trained with the sword this morning.

Squeezing his thigh, your eyes flicker between his and his hard cock as the slight nod of his head encourages you to curl your hand around it, your thumb and index finger barely touching.

He throbs in your palm already, and the tip is covered in a red that makes it clear he’s desperate to be buried inside of something; probably not caring whether it’s your mouth or your cunt.

Even though you cower beneath his dominating presence, a jolt of boldness strikes you that makes you lean in and lick a flat stripe from the base of his cock up to the bulbous tip. A salty taste lingers on your tongue as you drag it over the slit, making you hum appreciatively, seemingly pleased to witness the effect your touch and presence have on the prince’s body.

Aemond buries his hands in your hair, loosening the bun you’ve put it into this morning, and grabs a fistful of it. It’s a sharp tug of him that catches your attention, and your wide eyes flit up to meet his demanding gaze.

Spurred on by the heavy breaths moving his chest, you swallow, and eventually part your lips to slowly ease him inside, and even though he holds you by your hair, he’s generous enough to not force himself inside, allowing you to move as you please.

“Fuck,” he growls as he gets accustomed to the warmth and tightness of your mouth, head tipping back to release a bawdy groan.

You hollow your cheeks around him, and, after a few moments that allow you to adjust to him, start to bob your head back and forth his thick length, flattening your tongue against him for added stimulation.

Growing bolder and bolder with each passing moment, you squeeze your thighs together every time the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, robbing you of the ability to breathe until you pull off of him again.

With his hand in your hair, Aemond senses you getting more comfortable, and starts to guide your head along his member, encouraging you to set up a quicker pace to which you eagerly comply.

“That’s it,” he groans, not able to tear his eye from the sight of your lips wrapped around him as his cock repeatedly disappears inside of your mouth.

Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your lips down your chin with how fast you sink down on him, and the lewd sounds of his soaked cock sliding back and forth past your lips fill the prince’s chambers, hardly drowned out by his grunts and groans.

At this point, you’re drenched in your arousal, the linen of your small clothes clinging to your swollen mound in a way that’s almost uncomfortable.

While you bring one hand up to clasp around the rest of his cock that doesn’t fit into your mouth, the other grips his thigh a bit harder than before, holding onto him for dear life as he uses your face however he pleases.

You feel the muscles of his thigh tense and contract under your palm and his cock throb inside of you, indicating that he’s close to reaching his peak. It’s the first time you pleasure a man with your mouth, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. But before you can brace yourself for whatever might come, Aemond pulls you off of him by your hair, prompting you to topple back to sit on your haunches.

You lock your teary eyes with his good one, lips smacking as his musky and salty taste spreads on them and your tongue. “My Prince, I–”

“Remove your clothes,” he interrupts you, his voice less friendly and more a command.

There are so many thoughts rattling your mind right now, and you don’t know where to start and what to process.

“I wasn’t asking,” he growls, his impatience showing as you don’t comply quickly enough.

With a bow of your head, you rise to your feet and peel the beige-ish apron off of your body, the red dress and smallclothes following suit. You waste no thought on your modesty, on the fact that you’re standing bare in front of a prince of the mighty House Targaryen. The longing for him that has built with all the days you’ve cleaned his pristine chambers, and the undeniable aching between your legs don’t allow you to.

You’re undressed when he stalks around you, regarding you like he’s the hunter and you’re his prey. You see that your obedience arouses him, his hard cock throbbing and bouncing with each step he takes around you. It’s thrilling in the best way possible, and the feeling of being desired by him feeds your confidence.

“Are you just watching, or will the prince undress as well?”

His eye narrows and flickers up to yours at your question, and there’s the hint of a smile adorning his features. “Would you like that?”

Biting your bottom lip, a blush creeps on your cheeks. “Very much.”

As you size him up, you notice a flush blossoming from his cheeks down his neck, the same warmth you feel obviously spreading through his body, too.

“Then I suppose that I’ll oblige.”

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he removes his clothing, slipping out of layer after layer, starting with the black leather robe, and ending with his smallclothes.

You all but drag your eyes over his lithe frame, taking in every muscle that ripples beneath his pale skin, and every silver, coarse hair that trails from below his navel to his cock and the sac of his stones.

It seems like he basks in your attention, in the way you stare at him in awe as you lick your lips, and he’s certainly not afraid of showing himself in his full glory.

“Get on the bed,” he says, smugly. “On your hands and knees.”

This time you know better than to take a few seconds to comply, bowing your head before climbing his bed right away, getting in the desired position. You suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, completely at his mercy in a way you’ve never experienced before. However, your curiosity and desire overshadow any reservations you could have.

“Pray tell, have you lain with a man before?” You feel the mattress dip beneath his weight as he slowly settles behind you. His hands find your hips, and you shiver with anticipation.

Looking at him from over your shoulder, you nod. “Just once, my prince.”

A soft hm rubles in his chest at your words, and he raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. You certainly seem to take him very seriously, which isn’t unusual given his station, but it’s your honesty that’s a whole different matter to him. “You enjoyed it, I presume?”

Still meeting his gaze, you swallow thickly. You’re hesitant to answer, not sure why it’s of importance, but he doesn’t seem willing to let you off the hook just yet. “Yes, I did.”

Aemond gives your flesh an appreciative squeeze at that, and shuffles close enough for you to feel his cock press against your arse. “Would you be willing to again?”

You press your lips into a thin line to stop them from pulling into a grin, but fail miserably. The prince behind you takes that as his cue to continue, and you’re most grateful when you feel him drag the tip of his cock through your soaked folds.

“Just relax for me,” he purrs, his eye fixed on the motions of his hand, watching as his cock disappears inside of you. “I’ll make it feel good.”

The moment you stretch around him, you take in a sharp breath, his cock breaching your cunt at a teasingly slow pace that makes sure you feel every vein and ridge of him drag along your walls.

With his hands coming back to rest on your hips, he pulls you onto his cock until his hips press against your arse, taking his time to adjust to your tightness. The ‘shit’ he mumbles doesn’t go unnoticed by you, a renewed wave of your arousal drenching his cock and the sac of his stones.

If his impatience hasn’t been running thin before, it certainly does now, because the first gentle, sensual thrusts are quickly replaced by merciless pounding. You don’t mind it for you’ve been thoroughly soaked, and enjoy the feeling of his cock repeatedly brushing the spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

Aemond brings a hand between your shoulders, applying a good bit of pressure to press your chest down and your face into the pillows. Your head turns to the side, but you’re not able to look at him.

His breathing is heavy, strained pants leaving him, and his hand trails back to grope your arse.

“Fuck, what an obedient girl they’ve ordered to take care of my chambers–of me,” Aemond rambles behind you, bowing forwards to put a bit more of his weight on your small frame. “Taking me so well. Giving me exactly what I want.”

The praise goes straight to your head, and you want to answer, but the words die on your tongue, replaced by quiet whimpers and whines that grow wanton as he splits you open with a hard, percussive thrust. Then another follows, and another, keening at the sweet sounds you make only for him.

Not able to focus on anything else than the pressure building inside of your belly, you push your hips back against him, and he counters by pulling you back with each of his thrusts, meeting him halfways which results in the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin to echo off the walls.

He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, that you’re certain you would keep going even if someone is to barge into his chambers, interrupting you.

As his hand snakes beneath your body to make contact with your pearl, you’re overcome with the true knowledge of how experienced Aemond actually is. He strums your body like the most talented lutenist, bringing you closer towards your sweet release.

“Gods, I–” you whine into the pillows.

The taut string inside of you snaps, and the pleasure within you soares through your veins. White, hot pleasure clouds your vision, his arm around you the only thing keeping you up right now.

“That’s it,” Aemond grunts, and the snaps of his hips increase to the point your whines become hiccuped, catching in your throat with little to no time to fill your lungs with air.

And then, his hips stutter, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. He twitches and trembles so much that he’s forced to still his hips, and you take it as your cue to roll yours against him, helping him through his peak.

The throbbing only stills once you’ve milked him for every drop of his seed and the last bit of the euphoric high subsides, making him come back to his senses.

But there’s not much basking in the proximity for you, not when Aemond pulls out almost immediately after, climbing off the bed to get dressed again. The red dress is crudely thrown into your direction, silently making clear that it’s time for you to leave.

It seems as though he’s embarrassed, because he has a hard time meeting your eyes, and doesn’t look at you when you get back in your clothes. But perhaps you’re just not catching the subtle glances he throws into your direction as your maid attire comes back to hug your curves.

Tying the apron and fixing your hair, you reach for the pail. It’s then, with you bowing forwards, that you finally feel his seed trickling out of your cunt, and the sensation alone makes you shiver in an uncomfortable way. You certainly have to look for a quiet spot in the keep where you can clean yourself, since you’re not done working.

You head for the door, but before you open it, his smooth voice catches your attention again.

“You may leave now, but I expect you to come back and finish your task at the Hour of the Ghosts, for you have not cleaned the fireplace thoroughly enough.”

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hellfire--cult · 2 months

Text

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: sexual tension, drinking, characters are drunk, clubbing, flirting and pining, i won't spoil the content of the chapter

wc: 14.5K

A/N: It's been... months. I know this. I got into a real bad writer's block and I am not sure it is entirely gone, but I have finally finished this chapter after struggling. I don't like how it turned out, feeling like I was all over the place with the idea and no matter how many times i proofread I just cannot get it right, but I hope that for the next chapter I do better! I hope you enjoy it and I am so sorry for taking so long!

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

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CHAPTER 16

“Wayne…”

“It’s not that bad Eds, with the medication and all–”

“You don’t understand pops. This– Fuck Wayne… You can’t leave me like this, with this condition of mine I– I have no chance of a partner… I will be alone…” He couldn’t lose Wayne. He didn’t want to believe what he read in the doctor’s verdict after many tests done on the old man.

The medication would only stall the end. There is no chance that lung cancer can be cured, and if there is any at all, it should have been caught before the spread… which did not happen in this case.

“Eddie, you don’t know that… And you don’t know if I will leave you son, don’t get rid of your old man just like that.” And Eddie could see Wayne’s eyes glistening with tears through the camera on his phone. He knows his uncle did not like these results either. He knows. Eddie could only think of the test results and knew how much money the chemotherapy sessions would cost. He knows that medication and hospital bills will go off the roof and Wayne’s retirement money is not going to cover it all up.

So Eddie has to make a decision. He needs to make money, lots of it, and his auto shop in the city is doing amazingly well. He needs to leave Wayne behind at Hawkins, even if it hurts him. He needs to take care of Wayne. His friends are here too, and Argyle was also planning to move here. He wanted to at least try to keep Wayne healthy. As long as he possibly can because with Wayne gone…

He would end up all alone.

He lets out a grunt as he secures the last lug nut of the center hub of a tire with his impact wrench. He turns it off and places it on the floor, rubbing the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He looks at his watch and stands up, wiping his knee that he used for kneeling.

“Gareth, did you finish the–”

“Yes, I fucking did, and it was a bitch, and I don’t ever want you to put me through that again.” The younger man whined as he tried to scrub off the excess of grease that was on his hands. Eddie winced at the sharp tone of his voice, but Gareth needed to learn how to do it, sooner or later.

It’s not an everyday occurrence to fix someone’s motor. A point where it’s not working but not broken enough for replacement. Breaking it apart, bit by bit in order to find the problem of it all and then putting it back together. It’s extensive, and it hurts your brain but someone’s gotta do it, and Eddie had already done it several times-

“I will put you through it whenever I want. Remember that you take thirty percent of what this person pays for fixing it. It’s not a cheap fix, maybe you can finally go to Hawaii.” Eddie chuckles and Jeff snorts in the background as he stops inspecting the motor of a car in order to laugh. Gareth scrunches his nose at both of his friends.

“It’s not wrong for me to want to be on a nice beach, drinking a coconut and then splashing on Caribbean water later on! Maybe even have a nice cute Hawaiian girl dancing next to a palm tree.” Gareth sighed dreamily while Eddie and Jeff turned slowly towards each other and let out a very ugly laugh.

“Okay, um, nice imagination there Gar.” Jeff chuckled as he went back to checking his own car and Gareth simply huffed, puffing his chest out.

“You’ll see the pictures and you’ll envy me.” And he pushed by Eddie, walking towards the large sink that’s at the back where the toolboxes are. Eddie has a smile on his face as he then shakes his head and hunches over to see Gareth’s work on the engine. He inspects the bolts’ placing, if the vents were positioned correctly and–

“Boss, she’s back.” Jeff sings with a wiggle of eyebrows and Eddie raises one of his at him and then turns his head to see a woman, arms crossed over her chest, office attire on, short black skirt, black blazer with a baby pink blouse peeking from the V cut.

Compared to Eddie, who was wearing a white wife-beater and some overalls covered in grease, one strap down, and a messy bun on his head to keep the hair out of his face, and probably more oil. His eyes scanned the woman again, from head to toe, and he felt a little bit excited about seeing her.

“My favorite customer.” Eddie smiles as you tap your foot on the floor, wearing your low heels that are formal yet somehow modern.

“I swear to god Eddie, I am cursed. I am losing my patience with my car.” You whined out which only made him roll his eyes. For the past two months you and he had become friends, your car had to go into his shop many times because one week was the oil tank coming off and the next it was your radio malfunctioning, and Eddie had told you, time and time again–

“Your car is shit sweetheart.” You only gasped at his words and shook your head.

“No, it is not! It’s a little old, yes, but– It still runs.” You said, proudly so, sticking your nose up which only made Eddie squint at you.

“Mhm… and what happened to it now?” He asked with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes followed yours, and he noticed it. He saw how your eyes flickered to his biceps, how they puffed thanks to the press. He held back a smirk as your eyes found his again, your posture becoming straight once more.

“Well, I feel the brake pedal a little bit hard to press. It started this morning.” He tilted his head in confusion at that because he had looked over your brakes, and they looked fine, almost the best thing in your whole car. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he scratched the back of his neck in thought.

“Alright. Let’s go see.” And you gave him a nod before walking out from the open garage door. Eddie looked to his side as he followed right behind you and Jeff only winked at him before proceeding with his own car. Eddie rolled his eyes but then, when they centered back, they fell on your behind.

The skirt hugged you tightly, and it was the right shade of black for you. It wasn’t too short nor past your knees. It was a simple office attire, something that shouldn’t get him going the way it is. And it has been happening more and more as time went on. Ever since that stupid night where he got to taste you, even if briefly, it was enough for him to admit the attraction he had for you.

He had been trying to push that urge away. You are a friend, you two share the same group of people, and it would be stupid to enter into a physical relationship with you… But fuck if he didn’t want to turn you around, get your ass on top of the hood of your car and raise your skirt far enough that you would reveal yourself to him.

He wanted to wreck you, ravish every single part of you and his curiosity of how you are in bed sometimes gets the best of him. The whole year filled of pent up anger and frustration over you didn’t exactly leave. Even if you were at the top of his hit list before, you were also this forbidden fruit for him.

He had looked at you many times when he was supposed to despise you in body and soul. He hated himself when he caught his eyes staring at your cleavage more times than they should. Your body as it moved when you went clubbing with the whole group. Your lips against another person’s and how they moved gracefully against them.

And now, he tasted them. The softness, the flavor… and fuck he wanted more of that. It was greedy, he knew that, and he would have stopped these thoughts and these urges…

If it weren’t for the fact that he knew, he absolutely knew, you felt it too.

Ever since you broke up with Billy, the physical touches became more frequent, tentative, testing, and only just barely. A graze of fingers, a press on the shoulder, a bump, a shove. He could feel your eyes, he could feel you scanning him from head to toe whenever you all got together.

He noticed how unsatisfied you were, whenever you complained about the hookups you had been having lately. He wondered if you were ever fully satisfied with Billy, but maybe your feelings made you feel like you were.

And he wanted to show you just how good he could make you feel. He wanted to show you what his body could do, what his urges could impulse him to do, and what his tongue could provoke. He wanted to brand himself in your brain and on your skin, mark himself in your memory.

He wondered now if he could make a dent in your hood from how hard he would pound–

“Are you listening to me?”

Your voice took him away from his thoughts, and he nodded at you as he wiped his hands with the rag he had in his back pocket. You had turned around, at some point, and to be completely honest, the need of tainting you didn’t leave him one bit as he saw your scrunched-up face.

“Let me check the pedal, first and foremost.” With that, he rounded your car that you parked at the front of his shop, and he opened the driver’s seat. The smell of your perfume filled his nostrils and he took a deep breath in and leaned down, bending over to reach the brake pedal and press on it.

Only for his hand to stop in the middle of it as a laugh exploded out of him.

“What? Why are you laughing!?” You asked, confused and stunned as he straightened up and held his hand up that now held something, your face flushing in embarrassment as you choked on your words.

“Isn’t this fucking adorable.” In his hand was a small hand-sized plushie, a Squishmallow to be exact, and it was a little bat. He squeezed it a few times and he assumed it was kind of like a stress ball for you.

“I– It must have… fallen from my purse…” You wanted the earth to swallow you whole, Eddie could sense it, so he chuckled and squeezed it hard.

“I might keep him as payment. Matches my tattoo.” And he noticed your eyes drifting to his right arm and then back at the plushie, rushing over to him to try to snatch it away, only for Eddie to be quicker and move his hand all the way up. You frowned at him, a challenge in your eyes.

“You know what I will do if you don’t give it back.” And oh he knew. He is expecting it. He yearns to feel your body against his like that time with the Pringles can. The way you clawed up on his body, your nails digging into his shoulder as your chest was almost at his eye level when you tried to reach for the can.

“You cannot do that now, your ass will show.” He only smirked at you as your mouth opened and closed, like a fish, and you looked at the bat plushie in his hand. “You didn’t have to make an excuse in order to see me, Peach.”

You scoffed at him and shook your head as embarrassment washed over you. He could easily keep pushing your buttons, but even he knows about work schedules. Begrudgingly, he handed over the small plushie to you and you snagged it out of his hand in a second with a glare in your eyes.

“I didn’t. You and I both know that.” You turned around to face your driver’s door, putting the plushie inside your bag again as you fixed things around and Eddie couldn’t contain himself. He wanted to have a smell of your perfume coming off from you. He leaned close, breath at the back of your neck and his voice three tones lower, sending shivers and electricity down your spine.

“Do we now?” He saw your shoulders tense slightly and he wished he could see your face. More confirmations that this thing was not one sided. He took a breath in and your scent is floral today, sort of, matching the air around you, the incoming spring.

What he didn’t expect you to do was to turn around with a small smirk on your face, a cocky one and it made his eyebrow go up in question. Your eyes stayed on his as he tilted his head to urge you to talk.

“Sounds like you were the one who missed me, Munson.”

And that really sent him close to the edge. He wanted to shut that pretty mouth of yours up. He wanted nonsense to come out of your lips. He wanted his name to be said, to be yelled as you unravel under his touch. Drooling so much that you wouldn’t be able to formulate words.

“Cocky, aren’t you Peach?” You rolled your eyes at him, those pretty eyes he wants to see rolling to the back of your head.

“But you are not denying it.”

And oh you are playing a very dangerous game here because–

“Eddie, I’m sorry to interrupt your flirting session–” Gareth interrupted and Eddie almost growled at his friends as you stuttered, looking at his friend.

“Gareth– It’s not–”

“Sure, whatever you two say. Eddie, Mr. Gomez called. Said he wants to book a service for his collectible.” And Eddie groaned at that, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He was the only one in the shop who had enough training and experience to work with delicate cars. He is the only one that can take this kind of tedious and slow job.

“Right.” He sighed in defeat as he slowly turned to look back at you, his arms crossed over his chest. “That’ll be a hundred bucks.”

Your mouth fell open as your hand raised and swatted his shoulder, finally letting out a held-in chuckle from his throat, prompting you to smile as well. The relationship was different, yet it wasn’t. There’s just this back and forth between the two of you, more than simple bantering, more than simply getting on each other’s nerves.

And he takes full responsibility for it, the question is… do you?

“No. You even tried to kidnap Carlisle.” Eddie frowned at the name, not understanding what you meant for a second, to then snort out, his eyebrows raising up in surprise as he looked at you.

“You named the plushie Carlisle? Are you serious?” You gave him an offended look and raised your nose at him. He wanted to crack up, but he held it in, you looked way too adorable to say anything about it.

“You named your Mustang She-ra.” He groaned and rolled his eyes, hating the day he told you about how he always puts a name on his most precious things. His electric guitar is called Gilda, while his van is called Kratos.

“At least she is known, I don’t know where you got a name like Carlisle–”

“Twilight.” And Eddie could only hold it in for one more second before snorting and looking away from you, pressing his fist to his mouth. You only rolled your eyes at him and gave him a small shove on his arm which only prompted him to keep chuckling.

“Of course it’s Twilight.” He only comments as he turns to look at you again. You flipped him off as you got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. He smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest. “No payment?”

“You want a kiss or something Munson?” He knows it’s a joke, he knows it is but he also feels and hears the suggestion, the small and indirect invitation. He only smirks as he bends forward, his crossed forearms coming to a rest on the rolled down window as his face moves close to yours.

Your eyes express confusion, but your body movement betrays you as you don’t move away from him, not even an inch. His grin is visible and his gaze holds fire and want as he quickly looks over your lips and then back at your eyes.

“Can’t get enough?” His voice was low, and you felt your whole body grow goosebumps at it and how intensely he looked at you. It was just one push and your lips would touch his, you could taste him again, and even more than before… but you can’t. You both can’t.

So you pushed him off on his shoulder, making him chuckle and stumble away from your driver’s window, still looking down at you. You cleared your throat as you started your car again and fixed the rear-view mirror. Your eyes lit up and looked at him once more.

“Oh, today we’re doing the pre-game at my apartment, so just bring whatever you wanna drink Munson.” His eyes widened slightly at that but still nodded at your instruction. It’s been a while since the group went out clubbing, and it would be the first time he and you would also go out on good terms.

Before, when clubbing, you two stayed as far away as one could, the only incident where he got close being the one where a guy didn’t understand the word ‘No’. Now there’s no need for that separation, for that space… Would you two dance together? Hopefully not… because you don’t trust yourself not rubbing your body seductively against his. And he doesn’t trust himself in not grabbing your hips to pull you flush against him.

‘Get yourself together.’ You repeat in your head to yourself. Eddie is a friend. Just that and nothing more. He can’t be something more. It’ll ruin it. Curiosity be damned.

“Alright, we’re going to Scorpion, right?” You nodded at the name of the club, and he gave a hum of approval and tapped on the hood of your car to get you going. “Go before you are late to an important meeting or something, Miss Executive.”

“I do my job well, what can I say.” Your voice is confident when saying that and Eddie has no power in teasing you about it. He liked it when you were sure of something, much more when it came to yourself. “See you later Eds.”

“See you later Peach.” You gave him one small smile before you got out of his parking and drove off. He let a loud sigh escape his lips as he looked towards the sky, not noticing he was holding one to begin with.

How the fuck is he going to survive you tonight?

He remembers the outfits you wore when going out, and he had stared more than once in a single night. He hated you more than he did at the time for catching his eye. The dislike he felt for you gave him the stop sign to not flirt with you, but now– the only stop sign there is, is doubt.

He is perceptive, been so since a teenager, but you feel like a challenge. He never once doubted when approaching a woman to take home for the night, never had a long-term lover either, but you are different. Everything is different.

Even if you two have the same attraction and same need, how can he be certain that it won’t be weird afterwards? How can he be certain that it won’t destroy the group you two finally can enjoy together and in peace? Is he ready to sacrifice that in order to have a piece of you?

Now let’s say you two do end up having sex and continue doing so… what happens when one of you two decides to end it? Go for an actual relationship? How are you two going to face one another once that whole sex-buddy thing wilters into nothing? He doesn’t even know himself. He had always been confident but– this situation was new.

You’re no stranger. And that makes everything much more harder than before.

“Eddie! Mr. Gomez!” He can hear Gareth screaming from inside again and he turns with a groan and a frown on his face.

“I am going! Fucking christ!”

Those kinds of thoughts might need to be left aside for now.

—--------------------------------

You looked in the mirror to look at yourself one more time. You felt your heart race slightly from time to time and your belly turning as well, as if you had butterflies from nervousness and anticipation blooming inside.

And you know why. And you hate the fact that you know why.

You had cursed at yourself when you promised you wouldn’t shave and yet you still grabbed the razor that was sitting on the corner of your bathtub. You said you wouldn’t do a lot of make up to impress, yet you did a full face. You also said you were going to wear something comfortable tonight, not wanting anything but to have fun with your friends.

And now you had some high-rise oxford pants with a short crop top that had long bell sleeves, and high heels on your feet. Pants you often used to show off your ass when dancing. You wanted to literally punch yourself because you know who you want to show off to.

Why would you do this? To get some reaction from him? You already made up your mind that nothing was going to happen between the two of you. It cannot happen. The circle would break if you do… but maybe you end up not liking it and he feels the same way and you two end up as friends only?

That would be the best outcome. But what if you do like it and he doesn’t? That would make you feel horrible, and you know it because you want him to like it. To like you. To worship your body. You want him to remember you and even consider you his best. Maybe it is to show him what he has been missing for so long if he hadn’t been a douche from the start. Maybe it is because you just have an ego problem.

Either way, Eddie has made his way into your brain almost every day… and even in your dreams.

The first time you dreamt of him was after the quick peck you gave him back at his house. You went to sleep, a little bit of a carousel going on in your head thanks to the alcohol you drank that night, but even the spins didn’t stop your mind from imagining things.

You remember it, vividly so. He was at the end of your bed, standing and looking down at you. You were naked and felt as if you were burning all over, goosebumps forming in need of touch. His touch.

He was shirtless, and you could imagine it perfectly thanks to all those mirror stories he posted on Instagram. You could remember every tattoo he had. His chest, his neck, his arms… You remembered them all, even the smaller ones, and you wished you knew the ones on his back if he had any.

He leaned down, planting a kiss on your collarbone first, and you could feel the stubble on his face tickle you, send shivers down every skin cell of your body, goosebumps worsening. His hands, his big ringed hands that also were filled with ink, trailed your sides, exploring you and taking in every dent, curve, and chuckling at the feel of that chicken skin he provoked on you.

The chuckle sounded too real, so low that you truly believed he infiltrated your dream with a superpower he hid from all of you. Had he engrained himself in your brain so badly that you didn’t miss a single detail? You hadn’t noticed how much you’ve been wanting him till that night, and your body and brain let you know of that fact.

‘You won’t be able to fuck someone else ever again after me. Trust me on that Peach.’ That’s what he said before trailing his lips down your body, making you arch your back as his teeth often nibbled at different parts of your skin. You wanted those nibbles to turn into bites, teeth marking you, making you bleed, digging into the cells of your body until you were consumed by him.

He was reaching that part of you that ached for touch, for friction, for satisfaction. That part of you that can try to make the fire inside you diminish if touched or worsen it, but you wanted to find out. His lips kissed your hips, hands gliding downwards as you looked down at him only to see him looking back with a grin on his face.

You let out a moan as you parted your legs for him to slot better in between them, his teeth biting a little harder at the skin on your hip in approval. You saw him slowly lay down on his belly, his smile never leaving his face as you felt a breeze on your wet center. It felt too real, too vivid, too lucid. You felt the coldness of it, the air, the pleasure around your clit thanks to it.

But your body betrayed you that night and you jolted awake when your phone loudly rang, and the first thing you felt was the wetness between your legs. For Eddie. For Eddie Munson. You were wet for your past enemy, who became your friend, and now–

You didn’t know if you wanted to kill the person on the other side of the phone or thank them for stopping you from imagining stuff like that. It was just a wet dream you had and a friend was the protagonist. Those things happen, they’re normal… The problem was that the normal thing would be to feel weird and disgusted by it, but you felt the complete opposite.

You wanted the dream to continue. You wanted that dream to go on and dream of what it would feel like to have his tongue on you and inside of you. You wanted to know if your imagination was kind enough to let you feel it entirely, just like everything else. But it cannot happen. You should have been glad it stopped where it did.

But the dreams didn’t stop, and sometimes you found yourself daydreaming in your office about them again, making you straighten up or jolt whenever you caught yourself doing so. You couldn’t let your body indulge in it, and much less your mind.

It was no use. He just kept appearing in your instagram stories, and your eyes always looked for him in every room whenever you knew he was near or was going to be present. You are always eager to see him and it drives you mad. He drives you mad. And you hate him so much for making you realize–

That you want to ride him until he sees the earth from the moon or beyond.

Back in the present, you clench your eyes tightly so that you could forget those images, or how he leaned over today and his breath hit your face as well as his stupid cologne. It was leathery today, but also the hint of car oil lingered on him, which only made your stomach turn harder.

He knew what he was doing. You knew what he was doing. Is he brave enough and has the guts you don’t have to take the risk? Does he have the same lingering thoughts you do? The what ifs? The consequences of it happening? If he didn’t he would have done something already… right?

You can’t take that step yourself, afraid of ruining it all. You finally can be at peace in your circle of friends, you repeat this to yourself every time you think about him as more than just a friend. When you think about his naked body against yours. When you think of how he would feel inside of you.

Would he be able to satisfy you? Fill you?

You doubt it. But, what if–

You jump in your place as a loud ring snaps you out of your thoughts. Your intercom goes off as it yells at you that your friends have arrived. You took one last look at yourself and nodded as you promised that this thing you were doing wasn’t for Eddie. It’s just a passing attraction. Something that will die down soon if not indulged.

You sprayed one last bit of perfume before heading out of your room and into the living room area. You looked at the screen to see Robin smiling close to the camera with Steve and Jonathan behind her, waving at you. You shook your head at the goofiness of your friend and pressed the button to let them in, hearing the buzz through the speaker. They walked in and you unlocked your front door for them to just walk in.

You could feel your stomach turning a bit still, wondering if he would be in time, or if he was coming at all, and… the dread of seeing him with someone tonight. You didn’t think of that. Oh god, you didn’t think of– Why are you worrying? Isn’t it best if he goes with someone else tonight? Maybe if you see him with another woman, these desires will vanish… but what if it does the complete opposite?

What if you wish to be her? But he is nothing to you, just a friend, that’s it… You shouldn’t care if he goes with someone else, you really shouldn’t but why do you feel like you would be sort of hurt about it? Why do you feel like you are losing?

What did Eddie Munson do for your brain to be this mushed because of him?

You couldn’t think too much of it because Robin walked in, holding a bag as if in victory, letting you know she brought vodka for tonight. You winced towards Steve as he walked in through the door, already sighing at the night ahead of him as designated driver for her and Jonathan. Argyle was the designated driver for Nancy, Eddie and you.

“I swear Robin… I know it’s been a while since we’ve gone out but–” Steve started only to receive a glare from your best friend as Jonathan closed the door behind him.

“It’s been months! Plus, we can finally pregame all together!” And you were excited for it too. The pregames before being Eddie’s friend were a little tense, always on edge of saying the wrong thing in front of one another and making the night a bitter one.

Now another type of edge is nestled within you. Between you two. But it’s as if you cannot control yourself when around him. You always give a remark, a word, or a sentence with a double meaning, or you always one-up him in his closeness. If he brushes his thumb against yours, you brush your five fingers at the top of his hand.

If he makes a joke with a flirty tone, you follow it through… like today, asking him if he wanted to kiss you again. He was the one who continued it, getting close to you, testing you, not even in a teasing manner. You know it’s not one-sided. This thing that is going on is affecting the two of you, and it’s a matter of never doing anything about it or… waiting for who breaks first.

“Chill Robin, it’s going to be a calm night.” Is what you say but do you truly believe it will be? The twisting in your stomach came again so you walked towards your kitchen to get some beers out as the rest walked in, ready to prepare the glasses, snacks, and drinks. You immediately popped open a can and took a chug out of it, wanting to quench whatever was inside your stomach.

“Is it?” Jonathan asked with a chuckle, looking at how you immediately started drinking. You glanced at him and gave him an innocent smile, receiving a roll of the eyes back as he leaned over the island counter to grab a beer himself.

“Ugh…” Steve groaned as he looked at the beer, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is certainly not fair.”

“I drove us home last time. I held myself back because I knew you wouldn’t.” Jonathan chuckled and his boyfriend only glared at him in response, opening his mouth to say something to him only for the ringing to start again.

Goosebumps raided your skin from neck to toes. You moved a little too quickly as you walked out of the kitchen to rush to the intercom, looking at the screen. You felt your stomach twist when you saw him putting a cigarette out with a stomp as Argyle talked to him. Nancy was only shaking her head as she looked into the camera and waved.

You bit your lip as you pressed the button, taking a deep breath in as it buzzed. Eddie looked up into the camera before walking in and he smirked, flipping his middle finger up towards you and that made the tension in your stomach loosen a bit. A chuckle escaped you as you shook your head at his antics.

You can do this. If you keep this friendly banter like you always do it will be an easy task. It should be. You took a swig of your beer as you looked at the door and then back at the kitchen.

You have to appear uninterested because if you do, you will believe it. You have to believe it. Nothing can happen between the two of you, and it should be clear that it shouldn’t because your friends are in the kitchen, and more are coming up. This wouldn’t have happened months ago. Eddie entering your home wouldn’t have happened, ever.

You should appreciate what you have and stop asking for more. Stop desiring for more. Stop dreaming for more. It’s enough as it is, what you two have is enough. He’s been a great friend to you, letting you vent, lending you a shoulder, making you laugh, and it should be enough…

But that stupid fucking kiss always comes back.

The door opened making your head turn to see Argyle walking in first and immediately walking towards you to give you a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. You rolled your eyes as you smelled the weed on him already.

“Hello hello, my dudette.” He smiles at you as he looks behind him, making your eyes follow his gaze. Your breath catches in your throat as you see Nancy walking in, followed by Eddie who is holding a six-pack with one hand, the other stuck into the pocket of his denim jacket. Black shirt hugging his torso, tightly, the tattoos poking out from the small V-neck it has.

Your eyes drifted lower to see his signature dark pants with a few rips here and there, and then you went upwards again to see him in his– Your eyes widened when you just now realized he had his hair down. Your heart seemed to stop as you held your breath in because you only saw his hair down in those half-naked pictures he took of himself in front of his bathroom mirror.

And fuck– fuck–

“For fuck sake Nancy, told you you tightened it too much.” Eddie groaned out and you had to look away, you had to. But you couldn’t. He had you in a trance as Nancy rolled her eyes at him.

“Not my fault your hair is frizzy and untamed today!” You tried to control your own breathing a bit. He definitely caught you off guard with this one. You fucking swore his hair was tied up downstairs when you saw him on the intercom screen.

You snapped out of it by Steve yelling at Robin to stop. You sighed in relief as your eyes finally left his figure, landing on the kitchen’s open door, and seeing Steve taking the bottle out of Robin’s claws. You smiled knowing that she must have poured too much vodka on her drink, never knowing how to measure correctly.

“Oh the rest is here, Nance you’re gettin' lucky tonight!” Argyle yelled, not realizing just how loud his voice was. You snorted and looked away for Nancy to not see you laughing, covering your mouth with your free hand.

Eddie chuckled seeing Nancy’s reaction, her face beet red, but your snort made his gaze turn towards you and– God fucking damnit. You’re not playing fair. You really aren’t. He felt the sharp intake of breath that entered his lungs as he scanned your body, slowly, taking every inch of you and your outfit.

He knew it was going to be a hard night for him if he was going to hold back, but he never thought he was gonna go to war.

His hungry eyes scanned your figure, your neck, your shoulders, down your body, taking in every fucking detail he could. Your breasts, your hips, your thighs, your inner thighs… He was desperate to taste you, to try you, to have you.

“Don’t laugh!” Nancy’s yell made him snap his head back to his best friend as she continued talking, “Eddie needs a ponytail.”

The man mentioned only rolled his eyes, landing on yours again. You were already looking at him, and he noticed the little gleam behind them thanks to your whole facial expression, your body language.

The way he noticed how your breath picked up, your chest moving a little more elaborate than a normal pace, or how your eyebrows were sort of tense. Your eyes were open, yet he noticed how your top lids were slightly dropped. Your hands were gripping the beer can, tightly, and your legs were crossed while standing.

He could almost smell you from across the room.

“Here Nance, take these to the kitchen while Peach gets something to tame all this.” Eddie motioned to his hair and Argyle only laughed as Nance grabbed the six-pack from Eddie’s hand and walked into the kitchen.

“Can’t give you any tips my dude, my hair ain’t the same form as yours.” Argyle says before following behind Nancy. Your eyes followed them and then went back to Eddie who was already looking at you with a smirk on his lips.

“Can you tame it?”

And that question shouldn’t have made your entire insides turn. It shouldn’t mean anything but him talking about his hair, but you know it has a second meaning. You know it. He knows you know it and that’s why he does it.

So you always play along. Because you know it affects him as much as it affects you.

“I bet I can.” Your voice was low, eyes staying on his as you talked. His head tilted slightly in amusement, the tip of his fingertips itching to reach towards you, show you exactly just how untameable he was.

“Would like to see you try Peach.” And he took a few steps towards you, slow, boots hitting against the wooden floor, loud steps that matched the volume of your own heartbeat. He reached out and grabbed the can out of your hands and took a swig out of it. He then put it back in front of you, waiting for you to take it as his eyes held a challenging gleam, as if this was another test.

You knew he was playing cat and mouse with you, but you didn’t know who was who. Were you the mouse? Were you the cat?... No, you weren’t mousy anymore. You two were the hunters, but neither dared to pull the trigger to get the prey.

But you weren’t going to let this fucker get away with doing these kind of things so he would make you drool over him, to make you look desperate for him. Your body though… your body wants to see him squirm.

You grabbed onto the can and slowly brought it up to your lips, your eyes focused on the lid as you looked at the small drop of beer that was there, where his lips were just mere seconds ago. Your tongue darted out, and you looked back up at him before licking the lid clean from the beer.

His smirk dropped, his cockiness gone, as all that’s left was fire. A fire that was spreading rapidly and you were holding onto the large folding fan, intentionally waving it with a smile on your face. You fucking–

“Alright, I’ll find something in my room.” You talked and took a full on sip of your beer before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie’s eyes immediately fell on your ass, as you swayed it side to side and he only scoffed at the situation, at himself.

The idea of not having you so easily is what made you more tempting, and it made him even more desperate to get you. He wonders if one fuck would cut it. If one fuck is all he needs for his curiosity to be over with you. If one fuck is enough to satiate this need to completely destroy you, ruin you, and make you lose your goddamn mind.

He doubts it.

He follows you across the living room and then goes into your bedroom. He takes a look around and now, enclosed in a space with you, in a space that is only yours made your perfume, your scent, grow tenfold. It almost makes him dizzy and fold over from how sweet, yet inviting it was. He wanted to press his nose in the crook of your neck and breathe you in, let you engrave yourself in one of his senses.

“Tidy.” Is the only thing that comes out of his mouth as you walk towards your vanity to open one of your drawers. You felt your heart beating in your chest as your eyes drifted to the mirror to look at your queen-sized bed and your imagination started being evil with you and your body.

Flashes of him pinning you against your bed came in a rush, like a camera shutter, picture through picture. The positions change in every single one. You gulped as you felt your center throb in need, so you straightened up and clenched your legs together, looking back down into the drawer.

If you had looked at him for just one second there, you would have noticed how he was now looking at you. His eyes ablaze, breathing growing elaborate as his nostrils flared…

“Well, of course, I had guests coming.” You finally grab a simple black hairband and close your drawer to then turn to him, ready to hand it over. “Here you go.”

A boyish smile broke on his lips as he walked over to the vanity’s chair to pull it out and sit on it, facing the mirror.

“You said you could tame it. Prove it.” You were stunned as you looked at him on the mirror. He wants you to do his hair? You cleared your throat as you got behind him and he straightened up as his eyes followed you, as if they had daggers in them just piercing you through.

“I don’t want to hear pain complaints, Munson.” He only chuckles at you, his smile making the butterflies in your stomach multiply for a split second.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” And you didn’t catch the ulterior meaning of that. Your hands went towards his hair, touching it for the first time. You started brushing it a little bit with your fingers, your nails scratching his scalp a few times, sending shivers through his whole body as you kept going.

“I’m not gonna use a brush, it will just make the frizz worse Eds.” You take the time to comment as you feel the static on his hair. He sighs, nodding at your response.

“I know. I couldn’t find my comb today, so Nance brushed it out.” You groaned at the response, your eyes furrowed in a confused frown.

“Nance has curls, she should know that you don’t brush them.” He lets out a snort at your response, and you are glad that even if you feel that attraction towards him, there’s no awkwardness between the two of you. It calms you down, knowing that if nothing happens, because nothing will, your friendship will still be there.

“Right? And then she blamed me for breaking her hairband!” He complained, making you giggle as you examined his hair. Your tongue stuck out in thought as you grabbed hair from his sides and you pulled them back to hold them together. You looked at him through the mirror and you held your breath as he tilted his head to the side, examining the new look.

You didn’t think a half ponytail would make a difference on his face but– fuck it fits him. You’ve never seen him with one before, and now you hate yourself for being the one who discovered this new look. The butterflies returned, and you shifted on your legs as your core throbbed once.

“Um… do you like it?” You asked, trying not to sound strained as if you weren’t about to choke on your own drool. “I think that a bun is going to be untameable in a room full of sweat.”

He only chuckles at your thoughts and doesn’t miss the way you gulp or shift in your place as you look at him. Do you really think he doesn’t notice? Do you really believe that he is not looking at your every move?

“It’s different but– Can’t say I dislike it. It’ll do for tonight.” You nod and let go of the hair. You are now more precise in the amount of hair you are grabbing, combing it with your fingers before pulling it back. You want to mess with him as you see him close his eyes, enjoying the moment. You bite your lip, smirking, and you pull hard on his hair, making his head reel back.

“Oops– sorry–” But your voice is cut off as a groan, a growl to be precise vibrates in his throat, his adam’s apple going up and down, and you hear him take a sharp breath through his nose. His jaw clenches as his eyes open and–

“I dare you to do that again, Peach.”

Your whole body burns. The way he was looking at you is just– it was strong, threatening but not in a bad way. Not in a murderous way. It was something else… something that gave you the feeling that if you followed through and pulled his hair back again, the thin line that was separating ‘Friendship’ and ‘something else’ was going to break.

You want to pull it back. You want to. You want to see what he would do if you played the brat. You want to know what he would say. You want to test it, to try it, to taste it. Taste him.

But you let go just a bit as you nod, taking a deep breath in and looking back down at the hair, trying to not let him see how flustered you got, how nervous you feel.

“Sensitive.” Is what you managed to reply with, trying to keep the act that it was just a playful act and that it didn’t faze you. Trying to keep the act that you are not fucking horny for the man that is sitting in your room. Trying to keep the act that you do not want him to push you onto the bed and take you like a fucking animal.

Eddie’s body is a furnace. He wonders how much he can push you to the edge until you absolutely break. Until you are begging for him, until you grab him by the shirt to kiss him senseless, for him to experience a true kiss with you. What the fuck did you do to him? He has to pull himself together. Even if he is willing to take the chance and make a move, it doesn’t mean you are willing to take that same risk.

He understands you and respects you above all. If it happens, it happens, but it would never be without your consent. But he is not reading the signs wrong. He is reading them correctly and very attentively.

Right now you could have followed his lead, but you didn’t, so he will back off… for now.

“No, it took me a while to grow all this amazing hair. I won’t let you yank it and destroy it.” His tone became playful once more as you tied the bun behind his head. He smiled again towards you and you returned it, a little forced. He wants to smirk knowing that he made you a little nervous, not in an uncomfortable way.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Your hands finally leave his hair and he looks into the mirror and turns his face a couple of times, a raised eyebrow in exaggeration that makes you roll your eyes.

“Acceptable.” You scoffed at his simple response and he chuckled, getting up from the chair and towering over you once again. He turned to look at you, his eyes finding yours as your bodies stood a little too close to one another. You didn’t know if you were breathing correctly or not at this point. “Thanks Peach.”

“N-No problem.” Fuck, you stuttered. “Anyways, let’s go back with the others before they think we killed each other.”

“I mean, we could have also fucked, but yeah, we should go before they drink everything.” And just like that, as if he hadn’t said the most shocking thing, he walked out of your room, leaving you completely frozen. You were staring at the door, mouth slightly open, eyes completely still in position as your blood began circulating again.

Your body was on fire, your mind a mess, mixing with his scent and with his words, making matters worse for you. You felt your heart beating in your chest as little butterflies flew all about.

You have to keep your head centered, your mind needs to recollect itself because you cannot show this in front of your friends. And that made you look at yourself in the mirror, face relaxing a bit as your shoulders slump down a bit. Friends. Yeah. You need to keep yourself under control, you are not an animal. You can fight this urge, you had before in your life with other people, you surely can now.

He is a friend. This crush, this attraction, will pass if not indulged.

You managed to take a deep breath before walking out of your room, grabbing your beer from the vanity, and seeing your friends having moved their endeavors from the kitchen into your living room. Your eyes fall on Eddie immediately as he sits down on your couch next to Steve, beer in hand and listening to his best friend.

“Now that’s a new hairstyle.” You heard the freckled man comment as you walked towards the chairs they grabbed from your dining table, putting them around the coffee table where all the drinks and snacks were placed. You sat down next to Robin who was preparing Nancy her drink, making you wince at the amount of rum she was pouring in.

“Robs, maybe let others manage the drinks?” You commented, making your friend glare at you, putting the bottle down.

“Why? You got something to say about my bartending abilities?” And Nancy only winced next to her, taking the glass Robin was preparing and pouring half of the rum into an empty cup. Robin’s mouth fell agape as she looked at her girlfriend.

“You do make them pretty strong baby.” You noticed Robin’s blush and you held in a smile as you looked to your front, seeing Eddie looking at the same thing, his eyes clashing with yours with a smile on his face.

You were both happy your two friends finally made it official, but it was still pretty funny to see Robin blush after acting tough and dominating in the flirting stance of the relationship. It’s a funny dynamic to watch. Robin huffed and helped Nancy fill the rest of the glasses with coke as you took a sip of your beer.

“So, this bouncer is a regular at Jonny’s?” Eddie asked as he looked at Steve and then back at Jonathan and the latter nodded as he drank a bit of his drink.

“Yeah, he’s gonna let us go in for free, even give us two free drinks and VIP section.” At his words, Steve frowned.

“You sure he isn’t trying to come onto you? Does he know you are taken, my love?” Steve’s voice was syrupy, making you giggle into the can as you looked back and forth, but you had to be honest and say that… it did sound compromising on the other guy’s part.

“Pretty sure, he is married, has two gorgeous kids even.” Jonathan smiled but the mention of kids only made your stomach curl slightly. You looked down at your can, not noticing the pair of brown eyes staring at you, gaze softening as he watched your body language.

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to suck your cock Jonathan.” Eddie says and that made you spit your drink into your can, followed by your laughter, making him smile while looking at you. “You know I’m fucking right!” and you could only nod at that.

“Y-Yeah! It– It doesn’t mean anything Jonathan, oh my god…” You coughed as you tried to stop your laughter, the comment catching you completely off guard. The rest of the group was laughing except for the couple that was just frowning, one in confusion and the other in anger.

“I– I swear it’s not, it’s just– He is a regular with his other friends…” You knew Jonathan was putting the puzzle together in his head while Steve only groaned exasperated, shaking his head at his boyfriend.

“We’re not going.” His voice was low as he took a sip of his beer and everyone, including yourself gasped and started complaining at him. Argyle even stood up, pointing a finger at him.

“The other guy already compromised, when he sees Jonathan with someone else, he can’t say ‘no, you cannot go in!’” He stated and you nodded wildly, looking at Steve with pleading eyes.

“If he does, his intentions would be obvious! He just won’t invite Jonathan again!” Eddie nodded at your statement and looked back at his best friend. There was a hidden intent in his mind to try to convince his friend.

He wanted to watch you dance in that outfit.

“Yeah man, he already told Jonathan he would let him through.” And Steve only groaned in defeat, rolling his head exasperated.

“Fine. But I will punch his face in if he tries anything at all and I hope I don’t see him in the bar either after this.” He takes a sip of his beer while Jonathan rolls his eyes, sitting on the floor next to Argyle once more. Everyone else let out a sigh of relief and the music played in the background.

And after a few drinks, cans of beer, and a few little games–

“Okay no, I didn’t say that! I said–” You yelled with a slight slur as everyone else tried to hold in their laughter, Eddie chuckling as he shook his head.

“You literally said, HEAR ME OUT, when I sent you a video of Venom… of Venom, Peach!” You were laughing, your eyes slightly red as you sat next to Nancy in the backseat, Eddie sat in the passenger seat, and Argyle was driving, completely sober. Nancy was cracking up as she patted your shoulder a few times.

“You’re fucking right though!” She said to you and you turned to face her and nodded wildly with excitement in your eyes.

“Right!? It’s the tongue!” And you two could hear a groan of disgust from Eddie and Argyle at the front of the car. Eddie was buzzed as well, eyes glossy from laughing the whole drive to the club. He has been going at you from a past conversation you two had with your weirdest crushes.

He thought his were weird… he was wrong.

“It’s– He can literally eat you alive in two bites!” Eddie yelled as he ran his hands over his face trying to stop laughing and Argyle only nodded his head, looking at Eddie for a second.

“Hot.” And Argyle’s response made the three intoxicated people in the car start laughing once more. When Eddie and you are together with your friends, the flirty bantering drops completely, and it’s moments like these that fill you with joy. It’s just when the two of you are alone that somehow the flirty remarks escape your mouth.

You don’t want those moments with your friends to be filled with awkwardness, or nervousness if something were to happen between Eddie and you. You might lose that forever, and not to mention losing Eddie as a friend. You doubt that friendships remain the same after having sex with each other.

But the beer in your system tonight… it’s being your worst enemy at the moment.

After parking and getting together with the others, you all walked the block towards the club. You could hear the music thumping already, making your excitement grow as you all went forward to the VIP line that was forming outside. Eddie stood behind you as Jonathan stood in front of you all.

His hand rested on your lower back as he guided you in front of him through the line so people wouldn’t bump into you, and you couldn’t even feel the chill of the night because of it. Not even after everyone got inside after Jonathan proved that the guy, the bouncer, was actually being friendly with him. The club felt humid, hot, and you still felt the lingering touch of Eddie’s fingers on the small part where your skin showed between your top and pants.

Your mind needed a distraction from it all, but when you turned and saw how the lights of the club hit his face just right, you felt your stomach do a complete turn, twisting into itself. He was smiling as Steve laughed about something to him while you all walked towards the bar. You had to get yourself together, this cannot happen, not at all. Your urges can be satisfied with someone else, or by yourself.

But you weren’t the only one who couldn’t look away. Eddie noticed it. All the time. He knew that his mind, even if hazy, wasn't playing any tricks on him. He looked at how you leaned over the bar, giggling with Robin next to you and pointing to the card to see what you would order. His eyes scanned all over your body, slow, and uncontrollably so.

The alcohol is making his desire even worse than before and his rational mind is slipping away slowly, that little thread of doubt of making the next step disappear each second and song that passes.

His eyes widen with Steve when he sees the bartender hand you a bucket full of ice with champagne and redbulls inside while Robin grabs various glasses. You turn with a smile on your face as you walk over to them again, Eddie crossing his arms as he scans you.

“Well, you gonna share?” He manages to speak loudly over the music as you smile up at him and shake your head.

“Not with you Munson!” You giggled at him as Nancy guided you all to an empty small table for you to put the bucket on. He laughed as Steve rolled his eyes, huffing again for not being able to drink at all as they walked to the table.

“Robin! Get your hands off the champagne bottle!” Eddie yelled as he snatched the bottle from Robin’s hands, causing the blonde to pout at him.

“Fuck off Eddie!” Suddenly, the table rattles as someone deposits another bucket filled with ice and beers. Steves turns his head to see Jonathan smiling widely.

“Invitation from the bouncer. His wife is the cashier of the bar!” Steve only rolled his eyes while everyone cheered for the free drinks. Eddie popped off the champagne easily as you jumped in excitement next to him. He chuckled as he began pouring the drink halfway into the glasses. You helped by pouring the redbulls in, filling them all up to the brim. Everyone except for Argyle and Steve grabbed glasses and clinked them together before starting to drink.

The buzz was good, minds becoming even more blurry and hazy than before, yet keeping the consciousness intact, except for Robin because she always poured too much alcohol in her glasses at the pregames. Steve was trying really hard to take Robin’s drinks away but she only avoided him, grabbing Nancy’s hand and yours with the other. You giggled as you tried to keep your drink steady in your hand as Robin pulled you both into the dancefloor.

You laughed when Nancy and Robin sandwiched you in between them as they grind against your body, listening to SZA playing in the speakers, the lights blinding you slightly, making you a bit dizzy in a fun way. You took a sip of your glass as your hips moved from side to side, slowly, unaware of the brown eyes that looked at your every move from across the dancefloor.

Eddie chugged his champagne down, his eyes moving away from your body to try to think of something else, for someone to catch his eye and to occupy his mind but nothing worked. The spin in his head only made him turn his head towards you again. Jonathan was chuckling, pecking Steve on the mouth many times, trying to make his boyfriend laugh, and it seemed it worked.

Eddie’s drunken mind couldn’t help but wander to more dangerous territory, a place where you are still not there, and Eddie is thankful for that. When he sees Nancy or Steve, he wonders if there is someone out there for him. He wonders if he even has a chance. He wonders if there is someone out there that won’t let him be alone for the rest of his life like he always thought he was going to end up as.

But even his intoxicated mind sometimes connects dots, and he is stricken by the realization that… if he makes a move on you, what is going to happen later? What if it escalates into things he is not used to? What if he curses you with who he is? With what he is? Would you even want him if you knew half of what he was and is going through?

That only prompts him to grab another can of beer from Jonathan’s bucket. He opens it and starts chugging it, only to feel a presence by his side. When he looks down, his eyes clash with yours. You are smiling, and by how your eyes are half lidded, he knows you are drunk, just like he is.

And fuck you look hot like this.

“Give me one?” You asked, innocently, your hips swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music still, and his eyes darted downwards to them before looking away and getting a can out of the bucket. He was about to hand it over to you, your hand reaching out to grab it, only for him to rip it away again, making you pout. “Hey!”

“Magic word?” He grinned at you, wiggling the can in his hand. Your friends were oblivious to you two, already used to the antics of bothering one another. Nancy and Robin were making out on the dancefloor, Jonathan was pulling Steve towards it while Argyle seemed to spot someone and disappear into the crowd.

You stared at his hand and then back at him. The buzz made you bold, your worries slipping, your thoughts disappearing, making the impulsiveness take over. You wanted to mess with him. You wanted to tease him. You wanted to be mean, desired, try to make that thread that separates friendship to something else waver a bit.

You took a step forward, your body sticking to his, and your eyes never left his in every movement. His eyes didn’t widen, but his breathing became elaborate as you raised yourself on your tippy toes in order to get closer to his face. You could smell the beer from his breath, the wooden cologne, the sweat, and it made your insides turn and melt in need.

His eyes went back and forth between your eyes and lips, not knowing where to stay. He felt his belly burn and ache, twist as your perfume invaded his space, your body heat invaded his own, and all worries started to vanish again. All thoughts, all rationality were rendered stupid as he looked at your lips.

“Please…?” It was soft, a whimper, a moan almost. Eddie’s brain short-circuited, not noticing his arm lowered as his eyes looked into yours. You were so close, and all he needed to do was wrap his arm around your frame and lean down, take your lips into his, kiss you stupid, senseless, make you yearn for more.

You were trying to keep a cool exterior, but inside you were in flames. Would it be so bad to have a taste? Would it really cause all the chaos your sober mind conjured up? Would it be so bad to kiss his lips again? To tangle your tongue with his? Take him properly?

He tilted his head slightly at you, the music, the people, all just became muffled background noise. He could feel your chest moving up and down, your breathing turning quick. He didn’t even smirk, not a grin, as he lowered his head towards you, his voice lowering a few tones, but loud enough for you to hear him. His lips were almost brushing on yours as he spoke.

“Please what, Peach?”

You felt your knees becoming weak, wobbling slightly at the closeness. Your heart was in your throat, beating intensely, making your breathing elaborate. His eyes were stuck on yours, waiting for your next move, for your next retort, to know if you would continue or if you would back out.

And you don’t want him to win. Not this. Not like your Mario Kart plays. He cannot win this. You won’t be the one to break. You placed your hand on his hip, giving it a soft press and you saw how he closed his eyes and you don’t know if it was the alcohol, or the vibrations of the bass in the club, but you felt tingling on your fingertips and what sounded like a groan vibrate in his throat before he opened his eyes again.

“Please Eddie…” His stomach turned at your whimper, at your pout, at the needy look in your eyes. You both don’t know what you were asking for any more. Your eyes were going back and forth between his and then his lips. He could feel his hip burning where you were grabbing him, his heart racing in need as his head moved forward, a magnet. He was going in and you noticed.

But it was short-lived, as you snatched the can out of his grip thanks to him being distracted and you took a step back and away from his lips. His eyes were wide, looking at you as you opened the can, moving your hips happily from side to side to the rhythm of the music, not looking at him at all.

You took a sip, and even if you wanted to look at his reaction, you turned and walked back into the dancefloor. Your nerves were all over the place, your mind twirling like a carousel because of the adrenaline, the alcohol, and the worry that the sober you will deal with the next day. And Eddie watched you walk away, his eyes burning and he did a quick turn to grab a can himself and chug it down.

He was angry. Oh so fucking angry.

He didn’t want anybody right now. He felt like a predator and he had to calm down. He had to drink alcohol for his mind to shut off, afraid of how he could act here, in front of all of your friends. He could care two shits for the strangers, he would fuck you in the middle of the dancefloor to show you who’s in fucking charge here.

Eddie didn’t like that thought. He cracked his neck and chugged the rest of the can down, hoping the alcohol would take effect soon. He spent the night talking to Argyle once he came back, who was not the dancing type, just like Eddie was. He had seen a few of his past hook ups walking by, batting their eyes at him, but he didn’t want anything to do with them. His arousal plummeted at the thought of sleeping with them.

After an hour, Argyle said he would be back only to leave Eddie alone again, but not for long. Someone patted his shoulder and he turned around to see Steve holding Robin up with Nancy on her other side while Jonathan held all their coats.

“Robin is already blabbering nonsense.” Steve stated and Robin giggled, wobbling in her place as she shook her head.

“You– are nonsense, dingus~” She slurred and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh and nod, looking down at Nancy.

“I am assuming you are going with them?” He asks, noticing his tongue is a little slurred too, his anger slowly lifting up as his friends offer distraction.

“Yeah– Can’t leave her alone you know?” He nodded at that and patted Steve on the shoulder and leaned forward to whisper into his ear.

“Go to Jonathan’s. Just in case.” At that Steve sighed and nodded, making Eddie chuckle.

“I’m not stupid, of course I’ll go to Jonathan’s…” He looked back at Robin who suddenly made a gagging motion and he immediately spurred into action, straightening her up. “Alright birdie, time to go before you make a mess of yourself publicly.”

Jonathan wobbled towards Eddie and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then a pat before walking out of the club first. Steve guided Robin out and Nancy gave him a hug and Eddie knew she was also drunk, hugging her back.

“Alright Nance, go take care of your girlfriend.” At his words, Nancy only giggled in delight as she pulled away and bounced a bit in her place.

“Girlfriend, she is my girlfriend, yes, I gotta go take care of my girlfriend!” With that, she rushes away from him, leaving him alone at the table where you all gathered your drinks. He looks around, the people dancing and walking around and he realizes it’s just you, him and Argyle… who he hasn’t seen in a while.

So he ventures forth. He leaves the table behind as he walks through the crowd of people, rounding the dance floor, and in just two minutes he spots Argyle with a chick. Eddie wanted to holler at his friend, but by the way she was dressed and from pictures Argyle showed him… this was the girl he had been seeing lately. His perfect date and match as he called her.

He took a step forward and he felt his mind spin slightly and now he is feeling that last beer he chugged. He felt light, with a good buzz, his limbs relaxed as he looked into the dancefloor, and his eyes immediately found you.

You were dancing alone, a little bit of sweat on your forehead, moving your head from side to side to The Weeknd playing through the speakers. His feet moved automatically towards you, unable to control himself. His anger from before was coming back up again, but it wasn’t in full force.

You were oblivious to your surroundings, not noticing you were dancing alone at all. The beer you stole from Eddie was still in your hand as you took sips, your hips going from side to side. You wanted the distraction, because your mind was becoming less rational, less conscious of your decisions, impulsiveness taking hold of your body movements the more you drank from that can of beer.

Some people call it liquid courage, but for you tonight, it was liquid demise. Much more when a strong hand pressed on your shoulder, making your eyes open and turn around, trying not to tumble in your place. Deep brown eyes with red all around were looking down at you with an eyebrow raised in question.

His forehead was a bit sweaty, so his fringe was sticking to it. His hair was a tad greasy, making it look kind of wet, which only added more to the look. Your stomach only turned even more at the sight, and he leaned forward, his breath hitting your ear which made your center only pulse for him, asking for him.

“Everyone else left Peach. Argyle is with Eden in a corner here.” He whispered to you and you nodded a bit, but words were stuck in your throat from how low his voice sounded, of how close he was. His breath sent shivers down your spine as it hit your ear, squirming at his mere presence. You licked your lips as you took a sip of the beer and he pulled away.

“What happened?” You slurred and Eddie only laughed at your tone making you pout. He noticed the pout and he bit his bottom lip in order to not succumb to the alcohol’s impulsiveness.

“Robin was about to pass out. Nance went with her.” And it dawned on you that you two were alone… the only friend in the club was occupied, distracted, eyes averted from the two of you.

“How come you are not drunk?” You yelled through the music with your pout intact and he rolled his eyes, which was a bad idea because his head only whirled around and he only laughed, making you tilt your head confused but still smiling at his display.

“Oh, no, I’m drunk– Trust me, that last beer is starting to hit.” And you noticed the slight slur in his words, making you bite your bottom lip as you saw him smile, his canines showing in the middle of the purple lights of the club.

The song ‘Pray for me’ started playing and you threw your head back in delight as your hips started swaying seductively, taking a sip of your beer. Eddie’s smile slowly dropped as his eyes scanned the expanse of your exposed neck, the sheer sweat and glitter on your skin as he throbbed inside his pants for you.

You opened your eyes again, a smile on your face as you let the impulsiveness of irrational actions take over. You grabbed his hand, ignoring the shock that was sent to your fingertips, smiling innocently at him.

“Dance Munson!” You yell through the music as you turn around in order to give your back to him. He sucked in a sharp breath as you moved in front of him. His eyes roamed your body as it moved from side to side and his hands itched for more. You were still holding his right hand and his throat bobbed as he felt shockwaves through his body thanks to your touch.

You knew what you were doing, but you couldn’t care anymore. Your rational mind was gone, even if conscious and knowing what you were doing, you cared two shits for the consequences of your actions. Will you regret it the next day? Probably, but right now you just want to bask in this attention, in this need.

You took a sip of your beer as you moved lower, your ass almost touching him as you swayed it, and then straightened up again. Your breath catches in your throat when the hand you were holding lets go and starts gliding over your arm, slowly, and then goes downwards to grab onto your hip.

A strangled moan escapes your lips when his body is suddenly pressed against yours. His chest on your back, and his hips against yours. His other hand went to your hip but moved a bit more to your front, pressing the side of your belly with the tips of his fingers. That simple action made your pussy clench onto nothing.

You feel his hips moving slowly against yours and you press your ass onto him even more. You have danced close to Steve and Jonathan before, even Robin, but with him it was different. This wasn’t just a friendly dance. This is so much more. Every touch means so much more than just that. Every movement was intentional now, the alcohol controlling the both of you as the music guided your hips.

His face came close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin again, and your heart jumped to your throat as his fingers dug into your hips, your flesh, and it was making those areas burn. Your hips moved very slowly, never stopping as he talked lowly to you, tickling you.

“What do you think you are doing Peach?” You licked your lips as a sigh escaped them afterwards. In all honesty, you didn’t know, your mind is not ready to think of an answer to that right now. What were you doing? What was your plan? What’s going to happen?

That’s something you can worry about tomorrow.

You slowly turned around in his arms, looking up at him, squinting your eyes. His face was close, his breath and scent driving your senses to an overdrive. Your eyes were half-lidded thanks to the intoxication in your body, and his face was showing hints of redness as well. His right hand rested on your hip still while the left one moved upwards, getting hold of your waist.

“I’m just dancing… with a friend.” He wanted to laugh at your response. You were such a fucking bitch. You still dared to call him a friend after your words, after your ass pressed against his dick. His face became stern as he looked down at you, his fingers giving a warning press onto your hip.

“You are overdoing it tonight, sweetheart.” It was a threat, a line he was drawing between the two of you. You knew you were. You knew you were being a fucking idiot, but you couldn’t help it. Your eyes were fixated on his lips, and you shouldn’t do this while drunk. You shouldn’t but– when else were you going to?

Your arms went upwards and wrapped around his shoulders, the can of beer gripped tight on your left hand as you looked up at him. You pressed your chest against his as the hand on your waist moved towards your back, splaying his palm over the expanse of it to press you into him.

You two were drunk. Not smashed, but you can both blame it on the intoxication. It’s a good excuse. A perfect one. This is just the alcohol’s doing, just the stupidness of the drinks you took through the night taking effect. It was an opening, a leverage, an opportunity.

And you were going to take it.

“Oh, and you aren’t?” You mumbled as you pressed yourself closer to him, and everything around the two of you ceased. The music became low, suppressed, and reverbed even, as your ears pulsed at each bass drop. His body was broader than yours, his body felt hot against yours as his hands gripped you, his head lowering with a smirk in his face.

“Did I? You sound bothered.” Your lips were almost there, about to touch, even if barely. His breath was mixing with yours. You could smell the beers, and you could feel how hot the air around you two was. His fingertips were driving you insane, and your impulses talked for you.

Fuck this.

“Shut up Eddie.” And you connected your lips to his. Your brain short-circuited, completely, it felt as if the oxygen left it, leaving only fog, haziness, bliss. You sighed into his lips as he breathed out a moan, a very low satisfied moan.

He didn’t hesitate to move his lips against yours this time. This wasn’t going to be a peck. He needed to kiss you correctly, as it should have happened. His grip on you became stronger, his blood pumping rapidly through his body as the alcohol and hormones started to fight his consciousness, what little was left.

You dropped the can to the floor, not caring where it landed, there wasn’t much left anyway, you needed to grip his hair, get your fingers through his locks the way you have been wanting to do for so long. So you did just that. Your hands ran from the back to his neck towards his scalp, fingers digging where they could, the tightness of his half ponytail already loosened through the course of the night, letting your nails run freely.

Your lips melted perfectly with one another’s, satisfaction in both of your hearts, but you know this won’t fill you. You know this satisfaction is temporary, a small victory, so you will enjoy this for as long as you can.

He groaned into the kiss when he felt your nails scratch his nape. He felt himself twitch in his pants, wanting friction against you as he let go more each second that passed, which was dangerous. The hand on your hip traveled south, and ended grabbing a handful of your ass cheek, making you moan in surprise.

He took your moan as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and fuck– fuck he was ruined. He was in trouble. You were so sweet, even with the beer taste still lingering in your mouth, on your tongue, you tasted so sweet. Like a fucking peach. He couldn’t help the possessive moan that escaped him as he gripped your ass tightly once more.

You felt wetness pooling between your legs, the idea of doing something you really shouldn’t adding to the adrenaline, to the sensuality of the situation, but you couldn’t care less right now. All you could think about was Eddie. Eddie and his taste. Eddie and his tongue. Eddie and how fucking good of a kisser he is. Eddie and his big hands grabbing onto any part of your body that he could right now. Eddie and his tattoos. Eddie and his shirtless pictures. Eddie and the happy trail that always peeks out when he takes them.

His tongue danced with yours, desperately, sloppily, all saliva and teeth, as if this was something you two have been yearning to do for more than you actually think. And maybe it was indeed that way. You just wanted to keep kissing him, but you also wanted to take him home. You wanted to fuck him. You need to fuck him.

And Eddie won’t be satisfied with this. He knows it. Even in his drunken mind, he knows he won’t be happy until he has you completely. He fucking hates you for this, but he just decided to not care for the consequences. Sober or not. If he doesn’t have you anytime soon, he is going to explode, that’s how he feels. He needs to consume you. Taste you. Claim you. At least once.

You two don’t know how many minutes you spent it making out, like two horny teenagers, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all. Everything else didn’t exist right now. It was just the two of you, and your eyebrows twitched as you opened your eyes through the kiss and–

Oh, you were completely drunk. Opening your eyes was a mistake.

You pulled away, recovering your breath as your head fell backwards, eyes closing as your consciousness started to slowly slip away from you. Eddie’s eyes widened, his protectiveness overlapping his lust and his intoxicated state. He held you tightly, feeling you grow limp with each second that passed. He was breathing heavily as he looked at you, shaking you a bit in order for you to open your eyes.

“Peach? You alright?” His worried voice felt like a distant echo. You just wanted to sleep, your mind feeling as if it were on top of a horse in a carousel. It wouldn’t stop spinning, and you were starting to feel so sick.

“Mmm…” It’s all you managed to voice out as you opened your eyes, just a bit, and Eddie noticed that the last beer hit you harder than it should have, and what you two had done just now probably made it worse.

“Alright, time to go home, let’s get Argyle.” He held you close, and the only thing you felt was as if you were floating. The lights in the clubs were dizzying, your head swirling and your stomach ache worsening. You couldn’t even think of regret for all the drinks you took. You just want to be at home and make this uncomfortable feeling wash away.

You know you were being carried, moved, and it all felt like a rollercoaster. You don’t even know if you puked or not. All you know is that at one point the flashing lights stopped, the hum of an engine was heard, and then you swayed from side to side as your head laid somewhere. On something strong.

The often pinch on your waist waking you up from falling into slumber. More swaying, more ups and downs, and then your feet were no longer on the ground. There were warm lights, and the sickness sort of dulled through this whole amusement park tour you just did.

Then, softness. Just softness. You could finally close your eyes, hoping for this feeling to go away. Hoping that tonight would be forgotten, or hoping that whatever happened tonight would be enough. Sleep overtook you quickly, easily, but your dreams decided to still invade you. Sober you will wake up tomorrow… and probably regret it all.

But… that’s a problem for the you of tomorrow. For now, you’ll just enjoy this dream. One where a certain metalhead touches you all over, his tongue running on every inch of skin, kissing you senseless as he rubs onto you, caressing you. This was the only way it would happen, wouldn’t it?

And you slept soundly, with the scent of cologne all around you.

The wooden cologne.

end of chapter 16

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A/N: I DONT' THINK I CAN APOLOGIZE ENOUGH FOR HOW LONG I TOOK IM SO SORRY.

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tired-biscuit · 3 months

Note

oki i saw u repost the ‘herding dog x lamb x wolf’ post and i am asking u to pls walk w me here … that trope with naruto and kiba. maybe naruto is the protective hearding dog, anxiously looking for the lost lamb that strayed a bit too far from the herd one night. the poor pup’s so worried, ears flat against his head and big eyes shaken with fear that something bad happened to you as he walks deeper into the dark forest.

little did he know, the helpless little lamb was far from in trouble. in the arms of the big bad wolf that caught her, how could she be? as poor naruto is wondering around the woods, fearing the worst case scenario, you’re on your chest, squished against the grass as wolf boy kiba mounts you from behind, knot inflating as his canines mark you all over. grunts and moans of pleasure come from the both of you, only aiding naruto in his search.

and when naruto does end up finding you, he’s… conflicted. well of course he’s horrified at first! a wolf is mounting you for goodness’s sake! at the same time, however, he can’t help but feel a bit jealous. why does the stray get to mount you and he can’t? he’s been so nice to you, after all, and he’s known you the longest! if anyone should fill your holes, it should be him!

when naruto interrupts you n kiba, it only turns into a territorial match of who can knock you up first, to truly claim you <33

— possible 🌺 anon? :))

18+ MDNI, fem!reader / cw: hybrids, knotting, breeding

naruto is a tricky one in my opinion, because he might come across as someone who only wants what’s best for you, but then when he gets the chance to pick you up and carry you to safety, he just… falters. doubts himself and his clashing desires.

and the fact that you smell like nothing but sweat and restless hormones doesn’t help his case either. he tries being the hero, tries to stand his ground and threaten and intimidate kiba for taking advantage of a sweet thing like you in such a ‘disgusting’ manner, but the wolf hybrid just sneers, exposing his elongated canines while he tells him that all he did was keep you safe. after all, the woods can be quite the dangerous place for a little lamb such as yourself, so it’s actually a good thing that a big beast like him has kept you warm and protected from other predators, is it not?

but that can’t possibly be true, can it? though come to think of it, the dazed smile that sits on your innocent-looking face now sure tells naruto otherwise… you’re perfectly content, with or without him. you feel safe, even with several bite marks and scratches littered across your plush body.

and you also feel… needy. like you’re in heat.

so it’s no wonder that you bunch up his shirt in your trembling fists and wiggle your hips while he’s still holding onto you. that you whine and immediately try to push away from him and go back to your new scary-looking wolf friend, whose already sharp smile grows even more honed when naruto, being the loyal dog that he is, tells you that you don’t need to worry, that he’s going to get you right back home.

but the problem is that you don’t want to go home! no, no, no, what you want is to stay right here, and feel the dirt underneath your fingernails while the big bad wolf continues to make you feel like one of a kind and special instead of just another head amongst the herd.

so after a bit of back and forth, and a warning growl so deep that it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention when it escapes the wolf hybrid’s throat, naruto finally succumbs.

kiba isn’t particularly happy about it — his gaze is piercing and his teeth are bared in a snarl as he watches you unclasp the collar and unbutton the dog hybrid’s pants — but he lets you do as you wish if it means that you’ll get to stay in the end. his desire to have you underneath him again is just another form of possessiveness. he’ll swallow the bullet even if it kills him.

and naruto, well, he feels this upcoming sense of animalistic frenzy come forth as he watches you lay on the soft grass and spread your legs for him; clearly beckoning him to give in to the urges that he’s been having for months now just so that you can get your way in the end. by the time he finally crawls on top of you and pushes his cock between your wet folds, still visibly hesitant, you’re already pliant, soft, and so slick between your thighs that he can see them glisten.

he knows what the reason behind it is. you’re already so full of cum and fucked out that you take him with utmost ease. your body is so warm and stretchy that when he goes to push your knees to your chest, all you do is sigh with pleasure instead of squirm with discomfort. he cautiously licks the side of your cheek, tasting salt, and his canine instincts take over eventually — making his back hunched and his temples drip with sweat as he mindlessly ruts into you, pounding your sweet pussy in a frighteningly similar way the wolf had previously done.

in the end, they’re two sides of the same coin.

you let out a broken whimper when you feel his knot begin to swell inside you. he’s nothing like the good boy that you’ve once known him to be; no, now his collar lays abandoned in the grass beside you, and he’s growling lowly into the side of your neck, letting his canines drag across your pulse point as he holds onto you with a grip so tight that it might just bruise your already marked skin.

when he sinks his claws into the back of your thighs and spills his load inside you, kiba is already nosing his way between you, cooing at you that you have to roll back onto your belly now because it’s his turn to breed you again, that he has to make sure the pups are his instead of the ‘mutt’s’.

they don’t like each other, that much is obvious.

however, they will refrain from ripping each other’s throats out if it means that you’ll offer them yours.

#the flower is already taken :(#cw hybrids #naruto smut #naruto x reader #biscuit drabbles #cw knotting #cw breeding

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acoraxia · 10 months

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(i wrote this while sick before going to the movies and then finished it after watching a movie so forgive me if it's incoherent or whateer im laying down)

do you ever think about how Azure Lion groomed Sun Wukong from a young age into being this perfect people to act as the poster child for the Brotherhood, abandoned him at his worst, was confident he could manipulate him into working for him again and then tried to do the same with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao upon first meeting them? And that, by association, he almost groomed Macaque and you can see how his manipulation affected Macaque even into adulthood when he first met Xiaotian?

No?

Azure Lion groomed Sun Wukong, tried to groom Qi Xiaotian (and Long Xiaojiao) and heavily affected Macaque's world view on Sun Wukong.

EDITOR'S NOTE:: grooming in this case does not mean anything sexual between the characters, grooming is a common trope in media and it's commonly seen as a power imbalance and manipulation tactic (see: when a father grooms his son to take over the company by inflicting him with his own ideals)

Azure Lion has a tendency to display Sun Wukong on this high pedestal and sound very confident in how he describes him. The very first thing he says in his debut is this:

“I'm flattered, truly, but if it were not for Sun Wukong bringing us together, right? Without you, none of this would be possible. Your courage to stand up to the Celestial Host has inspired us to finally take a stand. To make a true difference in the world. And I could think of none other more suitable to lead us on our conquest than you, brother.”

notice how throughout this episode sequence Azure is spoken about like he's the leader and right in every word he says. The other adults at the table (Peng, DBK and Yellow Tusk) smile and turn to him as though he's in the right. They hang on to his every word. something interesting is the fact Macaque and Sun Wukong are talked down to like they're the younger pair of the brotherhood — Peng's insults to Macaque, the way DBK asks SWK to repeat what happened during Havoc in Heaven—

heck even the way they laugh at Sun Wukong when he's being silly is a clear indicator that they see him as... silly.

It isn't until Azure Lion speaks up that they turn to him and start seeing Sun Wukong into a new light.

Not only that but the way that Azure talks to Sun Wukong raises several red flags. He looks at all his brothers the same way (e.g when he's helping Peng during a flashback in Episode 8) but it raises so many red flags when he looks at Wukong like this.

And Wukong hangs on to his every word.

Because Sun Wukong believes in what Azure Lion is saying to him. Everyone believes him in that moment. he sounds so confident in the way he says none of this would be possible without sun wukong. It's a way to manipulate him especially considering Sun Wukong was not the one to form the Brotherhood - Azure was. Azure decided to form this trio after seeing Sun Wukong for the first time according his own flashback:

And guess what? It works. Sun Wukong was minding his own business up until that point, the only thing he'd done (if the timeline matches up correctly) was become immortal and return to Flower Fruit Mountain to train his monkey army. In JTTW at this point he would've turned into a giant version of himself, scaring the other spirit kings into joining alliances with him just from witnessing that—instead we get Azure Lion believing him to be the perfect idol for his plan to come into fruition.

Fun Fact: Macaque is the only one who looks at Sun Wukong like this during Azure Lion's little speech about him and being the rightful leader of the brotherhood.

He seems more confused and shocked than the rest of them are. Mind you, he's known Sun Wukong longer than the rest of them have.

He hears Azure Lion, a veteran celestial warrior, praise his best friend and put him up on a pedestal and it confuses him. because his best friend is not like that. at least, he thinks so—but Azure sounds confident, right? he's speaking so confidently about this, so he must be right... right?

It will, eventually, lead to Macaque changing his view on Sun Wukong entirely. this is why we have shadowplay.

"That's what I believed. What Azure would have you believe."

Azure Lion affected not only Sun Wukong but Macaque in his manipulation — the timeline does not show us where Macaque went after his fall out with Wukong but the theory that he ran into the Camel Ridge Trio before fighting Wukong again works considering that line.

(Not only that but Macaque also tries to do this with Xiaotian: he introduces himself in a easily approachable way and trains him, takes him under his wing, then stomps on him the moment he stops being useful to him. he uses him to get to Sun Wukong. Xiaotian reminds Macaque of Sun Wukong and he uses similar tactics that Azure Lion used to get to Xiaotian — and it isn't until the Samadhi Fire Ritual that he realizes what he's done by being reminded of his and Wukong's fallout. He, a bystander, was also affected and influenced by Azure's manipulation.)

Additionally, Sun Wukong defends Azure Lion. He justifies attacking Heaven during Havoc in Heaven, he justifies the brotherhood's plan to go to war against Heaven—none of these plans are Sun Wukong's ideas. They are Azure's influence. In the original book, the reason why Wukong attacks Heaven in the first place is because they refuse to grant him the respect he wishes and thus Heaven is angry at him for dubbing himself the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. They ask the Jade Emperor to take care of Sun Wukong and he does—which, y'know, ends up with Wukong imprisoned afterwards. But in Monkie Kid it's all because of Azure's influence on Wukong.

Because he groomed him into being a faithful right hand man. And he is so confident in that that he gives these grand speeches and pep talks and says every perfect little line to make Sun Wukong want to follow him to Hell and back.

"When we triumph in this rebellion, the people will never live in fear. We're about to change everything. It's all because of you, brother!"

And, of course, he tries this on Xiaotian and Xiaojiao, too, when he first meets them.

When he presents himself to Xiaotian and Xiaojiao, he comes to their rescue. He already introduces himself as a savior and protagonist because he saves them from the scroll—even seemingly displaying himself as non-threatening because, while he laughs at them, he does so in a manner that's sincere and genuine. It's a goofy laugh. He's being goofy. He's playing to their good side.

It's the way he talks to them and laughs, introduces himself with such flamboyance and loudness that he mirrors Sun Wukong himself. He is such a direct influence to Sun Wukong that it carries throughout the few scenes we see of him that resemble what Sun Wukong has done with Xiaotian: the astral projection, the goofy displays of excitement, the sarcastic tones when talking about Tang, the way he greats his brothers when they are freed as old friends and all cheery and genuine.

He allows himself to be called uncy lion and romanticizes the past of the brotherhood while not elaborating on the fact he lead Sun Wukong and his brothers to a war while still blaming the aftermath and defeat of their party on Sun Wukong.

"Ah, well. The Sun Wukong isn't exactly the easiest person to get along with. He has quite a habit of keeping people at arm's length. We were young, mistakes were made... and some mistakes can't be undone."

He speaks of him in a way to spark doubt between Xiaotian and Xiaojiao and it works in the way they react to what he says. They are disheartened and Xiaojiao even mentions, later, how Sun Wukong has had a habit of keeping things to himself. I wonder why that is.

" [...] If your friendship with Monkey King meant anything to you—" "It meant everything to me." [....] "We're brothers. Nothing could ever change that."

It's the way that Azure talks to them about Sun Wukong. It's the way he still thinks he is close enough to Sun Wukong to say that nothing will change their relationship. It's the way that he tries to plant these ideas into Xiaotian's head when they first meet, because he is the Monkie Kid.

That and the fact that later, when Sun Wukong is bursting through each and every memory, he reaches Xiaotian and goes to him and tries to comfort him and say they'll get to safety soon and they just have to deal with the scroll curse—it's the fact that the moment

that pigsy

mentions Azure Lion

all of that gets paused for a moment

"Oh he says his name like that because he put him in the scroll, he shouldn't be here—" there is also the fact he's not fully blown surprised by this. he's also wary. he's hesitant. sure you can say he's surprised to hear they've met Azure Lion,

but then you get this

this is hatred. this is anger. this is not what Sun Wukong feels towards Macaque during Season 3 — he lunged at Macaque for putting Xiaojiao in danger, for putting Xiaotian in danger, for ruining his plan, and he hesitates to attack him, to deliver that final blow, his fist is shaking and Tang's interuption easily causes him to lose focus and he drops Macaque. He lets go.

THIS? This is him protecting Xiaotian. this is him not wanting Xiaotian near Azure. Xiaotian looks at Azure with wide eyes and a gaping mouth because "oh Azure's here?" but Wukong knows better.

And you cannot tell me Sun Wukong was not heavily hurt by Azure Lion's actions without looking at the way that Sun Wukong puts himself between Azure and Xiaotian immediately, how Sun Wukong tries to be a better person by putting Xiaotian's safety first, always, even if it means he gets possessed or hurt or thrown around.

You cannot tell me Azure Lion wasn't a manipulator or abuser or a person who used Sun Wukong's admiration of him against him, to turn him into an obedient follower and devoted friend, when the very first thing he does when he sees Wukong step between him and Xiaotian is sigh.

Sighs like an older mentor looking at their pupil and going "didn't I teach you better than that?"

And then he imprisons Sun Wukong.

Because he is of no use to him at that moment.

And the fucking kicker: Xiaojiao modeled her new sword after Azure Lion, then is blatantly disgusted by this when she figures out how much of a bastard he is and openly says so. Xiaotian looks distraught and confused. Because Azure admits to being guilty of using them and manipulating them. He aims for sympathy with them.

He aims for sympathy with Xiaotian.

He twists the narrative again when he and Xiaotian are alone.

He's manipulating him. He's using him.

He keeps painting Sun Wukong in this negative light. he keeps putting himself up as the sympathetic victim of it all.

"My former brother was sent to destroy us and all we had built."

and yet he still talks about Wukong as though he has a grasp on their relationship. he calls him brother. he has not abandoned that title. he still thinks of Sun Wukong as his brother and will continue to use him and his name in whatever way possible to get ahead.

Maybe it is not on purpose and Azure thinks he is being true and genuine with Xiaotian but it does not erase the fact he twists the narrative to paint Sun Wukong in a negative light in front of his successor. Because Sun Wukong and Xiaotian have a strong relationship, a bond so strong that Qi Xiaotian bursts with power and strength when he realizes Azure will not give him back to him. It's precision and control and Qi Xiaotian could wreck havoc among everyone for keeping his mentor away from him but he is so controlled and careful with his movements that he manages to not attack Azure, but throw him off balance to get him to release Azure.

All because Sun Wukong is important to him.

Because Sun Wukong was not going to treat his successor as though he were a weapon or a pawn in some major scheme like he was.

Azure Lion showers people with praise that they do not deserve nor want and does so in a way that makes the party feel either delighted to have aided with his success or horrified at the revelation. He does so when Sun Wukong brings the brotherhood together (which wouldn't have happened if Azure Lion hadn't seen Sun Wukong with his subjects that one day) and he does so when Qi Xiaotian for returning his brothers to him (which he didn't know he was doing, because Azure Lion told him he needed to defeat the curse without mentioning his friends would be released too, at least from what I can remember).

"His betrayal, his brutality. He took the only friends I had from me. I would have done anything in my power to bring them back. But it wasn't in my power, it was in yours. You saved my friends. You returned them to me. And for that, I am eternally grateful."

This is similar to what he says to Sun Wukong when he was thanking him for bringing the brotherhood together.

And then, what happens when all this manipulating and tricking does not work? When Qi Xiaotian teams up with Sun Wukong instead of siding with Azure Lion?

"After all Sun Wukong has put you through, how much he's let you down, you would still meet your fate trying to protect him?! (...) He doesn't deserve such loyalty, yet you insist on learning the hard way, just as I did! I should've never trusted the Monkey King! The False Sage, Equal to Nothing!"

He fucking insults Sun Wukong. Sun Wukong who rushes in to protect Xiaotian, who shoves Azure Lion out of the way, and checks on Qi Xiaotian when he glitches out and starst to lose control of his powers.

And when he's losing against Xiaotian? When he struggles to keep up with him?

"Look what he's done to you! Reduced you to a mindless, savage animal."

Again, Macaque's obsession over Sun Wukong makes sense now. His obsession is a result of Azure Lion's doing. His obsession is what Qi Xiaotian could have been had he not known Sun Wukong for who he really is: his mentor and friend.

What gets to me is what Xiaotian says to him when he's losing:

"That's what you were pretending to be, right? To be my friend? To care about me? When really, you were just using me to get what you wanted! To turn me against my own mentor! Well, put your hand in the monkey cage and expect to get bit, son! Come on! Come on! Come on, Uncy Lion! You're the big hero, right?! Then prove it! Show me!"

It's a perfect way of snapping back at Azure for all his manipulation.

And then Azure dies.

He learns he's being manipulated for someone else. He cries and smiles and dies.

What for?

He doesn't save anybody.

He doesn't suffer consequences of manipulating people. He doesn't do anything heroic and he doesn't even save the world by sacrificing himself because Nezha is the one who seals away the Jade Emperor's powers in the end.

He's a natural manipulator.

He's not a hero.

he's a loser

#analysis #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #azure lion #lmk azure lion #lego monkie kid azure lion #ok idk how else to tag this lmao #its over 2k #i am so fucking tired #anyways #how are you guys?#me? im tried as FUCK

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obsessedwrhys · 4 months

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SCIENCE VS MAGIC

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Donnie disapproves your magical abilities. Sort of enemies to lovers trope, lots of bickering, reader has telekinetic/telepathic powers (origin will be explained throughout the fic), fluff, angst, this fic is kinda long (didnt proof read I got lazy). Reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

To think that all of this started from a normal dumpster that you ended up crashing into after falling out of the sky was like a cliché opening to a movie. Even from the height of the fall, due to your superhuman abilities, you managed to survive but however you endured some severe injuries that left you unconscious.

The crash was loud enough to catch the attention of the four mutant brothers just a few blocks away. Once they made it to the scene, it was like a scene from E.T. They were actually convinced they just witnessed the crash of a spaceship, but there was no spaceship of any kind, just a girl inside a dumpster bin.

"Did she just fall out of the sky?" The eldest asked out of concern.

"Ooooh, do you think she's an alien?" The brother in the blue nudges his brother with a playful smirk.

"According to the visual evidence before me... no, she is NOT an alien Leo"

"Awwww c'mon, maybe aliens also look... humanly!"

"Then does that mean we're aliens?"

"Alright, enough chit-chatting. All this alien talk is making my brain itch. Let's bring her somewhere safe" The eldest suggested which the rest easily went along with.

Just like that you were brought into their lair, you were instantly taken into Donnie's lab to have your wounds treated. Since the brothers trusted him, they left to let him do his work. With his goggles on, he carefully applied medicine on some of your wounds with the help of his tweezers. It was when you hissed that it made his body jump.

"A bit gentle will you?" You asked and he stares at you for a while.... before skedaddling to his monitor to check on your current health status.

From how fast he ran you almost thought you scared him. Just then it came to the realisation that you weren't in your home realm, you were in a completely different place. You could tell because you couldn't detect anyone of your kind with your telepathy. You watched as the... turtle? A walking turtle? Wait turtles walk. A humanoid turtle? Man what realm is this...?

"You're in stable condition even though you fell from about 100 kilometres from the sky. How is that even possible?" He stroked his chin as he taps on the side of his face while trying to make sense of all of this.

"Well... I drank some milk before I ran away. Maybe it made my bones stronger"

"That is absurd. Milk does not make your bones stronger! That supposition is unjustified and irrational. I refuse to hear any of it" He said, or more of the word, yapped. He then took off his goggles and put it aside to continue typing whatever it is on his keyboard.

"Okay, sorry... but I need to get going" You got up but the pain from your injuries made you stutter in your movements, you hiss from the pain.

"That won't be possible. You will need time and energy to heal due to your condition. Besides, what can be more important?" He said, forcing you to lay back down on the operating table.

"Well... would you believe me if I told you I'm a being with superhuman abilities who also happen to be on the run from some space cops because I was accused of breaking realities by travelling in between too much?" You asked. Your question having him bat his eyes at you a few times. Suddenly he starts to examine you with his eyes sparked with intrigue but it was for the wrong reason.

"Ah, hallucination, one of the most common causes of brain damage. How could I have failed to notice this? Could you stare into this light? How many fingers am I holding up?" He continued on trying to examine you but you just stare at him in disbelief.

Of course he thinks you're crazy.

Guess there's only one way to prove yourself.

"Now if you'd just—" The second he sees all of his things floating from the table was when he finally shut his mouth close, his eyes wide from shock as he began to freak out on what to do in this situation.

"I'm not hallucinating and neither are you... this is all magic" You simply said before putting all his things back to it's rightful spots.

He stands there, his eyes not blinking even once as he seems to be having a very hard time digesting your words. Magic?

M.A.G.I.C.?

His left eye twitched which made you wonder if you had just struck a nerve.

"Magic. Does not exist...!" He said, grabbing what seems to be his tool. A staff?

"Magic roughly translates to the art of manipulating natural forces. Annnnnd that's exactly what science does. Magic is just a thing people make up to downplay the works of scientific discovery because SOME people happen to not appreciate the gift of wisdom but rather on fantasy. It's quite self-centered if so to speak" He crossed his arms with a faint smug. Did he just look at you when he highlighted the word some?

"That sucks... but you can't deny that what I have is magic" You said, using your telekinesis to grab a bag of candy from the shelf.

"DONT TOUCH MY STUFF!!"

"I'm not touching!! Look!" You held up both your hands in the air as you used your power to feed yourself the candy roll. He glares at you as he snatches the bag of candy from the air.

"That's it! If you will be staying at MY lair living in MY lab, you will be living under MY rules missy!"

"Missy?!"

"Yes you heard me louuuud and clear!" He said. Ah some part of you is telling you this is gonna be a complicated stay compared to the rest you've had.

For the next few days, you were able to properly get to know the people who have saved you. They introduced themselves as brothers. The one who seemingly always checked up on you was named Raph whilst the other two brothers who are always hanging out with you were Leo and Mikey. That leaves the brother who was... well... constantly eyeing you being Donnie.

The reason why you'd phrase it like that was because every time you found yourself simply resting or spending time with his brothers, you could always catch him spying on you. Most of the time he'd just be peaking from behind objects or if he's feeling brave, he'll straight up choose to stand on the other side of the room with his eyes locked on you like a hawk.

If the staring wasn't weird enough, he would also ask you multiple questions that he seem to have written down in his notebook. He would have the end of his pen pressed against his chin as he asks his questions.

"Well, with your gifted talents, are you able to read minds?" He asked, seated on the ground as he faces you.

"Yes" You responded with your arms folded.

"Confident, but that doesn't mean you're correct. In order to comfirm that theory, we must carry out a test. Now, what number am I thinking?"

"7"

He'd stay silent, his brows slightly narrowed as he slowly nods to himself.

"Interesting... buuuuut 7 is the most common number people would think of in this scenario... it could just be a lucky guess" He said, brushing off your showcase just now while he jot down on his notebook.

You tried your hardest not to roll your eyes once you heard his response. Why does he even bother asking these questions if he doesn't like the answers you give him? Something tells you he's probably just messing with you.

"Alright, next question, are you able to carry out mind control?"

Multiple times, you've told yourself to be patient but as days go by, his behaviour was really driving you insane... to be fair you've also been driving him insane by sharing his room. He seems crazy obsessed with privacy. Which you get. But he's on a whole different level.

"Seriously?" You'd stand in front of his invention. You have no knowledge of what it's even made out of but you were sure it was programmed to keep you out of his side of the room. See it as a semi-transparent wall that he can activate and deactivate.

"I'm not gonna touch your things. You act like I'm some kind of criminal"

"Which YOU AREE!! Your story of being wanted by these space cops easily proves that point. I will NOT risk my tech to be stolen by a space criminal!!" He'd say, pointing at you before crossing his arms with his body facing the other away.

"..... no hard feelings" He'd add in the end.

Riggggght. No hard feelings.

"Well then, I guess I'll just go and have a goodnight sleep" You'd turn on your heels but after taking just a few steps, you'd stop in your tracks. Your back still facing him.

"Oh and by the way, the name space criminal sounds pretty cool. Don't you think?" You'd ask as you show him the remote he needs to deactivate the wall he has set up. The second he sees he has lost it, he began to panic and check for ways out.

"Nononono...! But how?!" He'd question since he was sure it was on him the entire time you've talked.

"A criminal never reveals her tricks" You'd grin as you happily hopped away. The sound of him slamming on the wall making the satisfaction in you grow.

"NO!! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE!! COME BACK!! HEY!!"

Despite you slowly getting use to his behaviour, you still wonder why he has this much dislike towards you. You wouldn't say it's hate since he's still generous enough to let you stay in his room. But who knows? What if he did actually hate you? You laid down on the skateboard ramp as you stared up at the ceiling.

Your peace soon interrupted once you sensed the familiar presence of someone approaching you. You tried to ignore him when he suddenly sat down beside you. It was awkward silence for a moment.

"... what are you doing?"

"Resting"

"Resting? Does your abilities cause you to grow tired quickly?" He'd ask, whipping out his notebook from out of nowhere.

"Is it like a video game where you have an energy bar for each time you use it? Does it happen to also drain your life force? Do you age faster?" His questions were being asked quicker than you could answer. It was really annoying you like he was a fly that wouldn't leave you alone.

"Do you happen to burn calori—"

"Shhhh" The sound of you shushing him mid sentence made his eyes go wide. It was like he wasn't sure what had just happened.

"Excuse me I wasn't—"

"Shhhh"

His brows twitched almost out of fury once he realised what game you were playing at.

"I—"

"Shhh"

"Now you—"

"Shhhhhhhhh"

"LISTEN—!"

"SHUUUUUSHHH!" Your words causing him to be so frustrated that he had to turn around and mutter whatever that it is to himself. From a few words you could only pick up being 'Dumb dumb' and 'You're the better person here'. You had to admit watching him lose it was hilarious to watch.

When he turned back around, you quickly stopped yourself from grinning and went back to your poker face. He takes a deep breath before he exhales painfully slow to sooth himself. You're pretty sure he's gone insane.

"It seems there's no use arguing against someone who doesn't listen" He'd speak but you chose not to say anything this time. Your absent of words irritating him bit by bit.

"I see. The common tactic of giving me the cold shoulder in an attempt to make me seem like I'm the idiot, well I hate to disappoint you but i will not easily fall for such trap" He said as he ends up crossing his arms with his chest slightly puffed out. His head facing the other way and his eyes shut from his pettiness.

It's bizarre how you're both the same age but he acts like such a kid compared to you. You sighed.

"Why do you even hate magic so much? Or just me in general. Do you have some sort of grudge?" You questioned and he opened his left eye to look at you, then his right eye. You could see his face relaxing slightly at your question.

"What makes you think I'd tell you?"

Ah what were you thinking... of course he wouldn't tell you...

"... fair point. Have a good day" You got up and ended leaving him there. Your powers helping you sense the disbelief he was experiencing at that moment.

Days passed by and each second that goes, you began to miss the realm you were originally from. Your family, your friends, they must be worried sick about you. Yet you're stuck in this world where you feel caged inside the sewers. There has to be a way to jump back into the realm of your home without triggering the system the space cops have set up.

You'd spend your time drawing out strategies and calculating the possibility of the chances of it succeeding. All of those plans written on plain paper you may or may not have stolen from Donnie's pile but oh well, it's not that you took that many anyways, besides he won't find out since you hide it under your pillow.

After countless tries, you still couldn't find the answer. The security is tight since those space cops are really out to get you. The thought of this being your new life really gives you the shivers. Just as you went in the kitchen to grab a drink, you were then approached by Raph.

"Hey (Y/N), you don't seem to be in good shape" He'd point out the frown on your face which you were quick to drop.

"Oh, that's nothing. Just still adjusting to this world. I haven't really gotten the chance to explore" You said before taking a sip of your drink.

"Well... in that case. How about you join us tonight for patrol?" He'd suggest. The offer so good that obviously you couldn't pass it up.

Which brings you on the rooftop with the four brothers. You had to admit it was nice to finally breath fresh air for once in this realm. The city seems so alive and although the tech isn't as advanced compared to where you're from, it still made the place look so fast paced and pretty. Is that a hotdog stand? You stood at the edge of the rooftop as you admired the streets, failing to notice Donnie who's been glaring at you since you've arrived.

"Alright boys.... and uh... girl. You get the drill!! Let's get this—" Sounds of a scream interrupted his words. All five of you duck to see a woman getting cornered by a gang of thugs in a dark alley.

"Oh no... we gotta help her!"

"Do not worry brother, for I have just the right tool—"

Before he could even finish talking, you have already jump down to the alley with the use of your telekinesis to help you land safely. You threw punches and kicks while simultaneously dodging the attacks thrown at you. Your moves catching the brothers off, each having a reaction of their own.

"Helllll yeahhh!! Save some for me!!" Leo said as he was quick to join you in the fight.

"Wait! Careful!" Raph following close by.

"Man! Who'd knew (Y/N) could fight like that?" Mikey was utterly astonished while Donnie who stands beside him had his teeth gritted out of annoyance.

"Yeaaah... who would have known...." His eyes sharp when examining all of your moves.

It didn't take long until all of the thugs were unconscious on the ground, you used your powers to tie them up with the rope that was conveniently nearby. The woman was safe and had managed to run away safely away from the danger. To avoid anyone from seeing you guys, you were all quick to leave. On the rooftop is where you celebrated your victory with them.

"That was awesome!! Up tops (Y/N)!!" He'd put his hand up and you were fast to high five him.

"What do you say we go celebrate this over some pizza?" Raph suggested which almost everyone went along with, all except Donnie.

Even back in the lair he was quiet. His expression blank like he doesn't seem happy about the pizza or anything. It peaked your interest almost instantly. That's why once the hangout was over and that everyone has gone to sleep, you felt awkward trailing behind him to his room. You could tell from his body language he had his guard up.

"Rough night?" You tried to start small talk with him. Something you didn't think you'd find yourself doing.

Even though he heard you, he still remained silent. This is starting to feel like karma for how you treated him all the time. You watched as he removes his armour to reveal his soft shell. Even though you'd normally just go to your side of the room, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away, you didn't know why but you felt involved with whatever it is he's dealing with right now.

"Is something wrong?" You questioned but he tried to ignore your presence by putting his equipments away.

"You're not your usual self... did something happen?" You asked and you could see his shoulders tense at your words.

"Hey I'm—"

"Just— Just stop!" He'd shout, suddenly turning around to look at you. His gaze deadly cold as he stares into your irises.

"You think you can just come into my life and try to take my spot?! All these countless years of building and inventing machines for my brothers, only for a fairy tale like YOU to pop out of nowhere!!" He'd say, putting out hand gestures to express his emotions.

You didn't say anything but listened with your eyes slightly wide. So this was how he felt about you...?

"It's not fair!! How is it that you can just do all these things with a flick of your wrist while I have to spend restless nights to even achieve that little?! You—!" He'd stop short, unable to finish as he takes a break to catch his breath.

You frown.

Ah you really feel like a terrible person right now... and it's not that you could control how you were birthed with your powers... but it was mostly because of the way you were pushing his buttons ever since you came. You joining their patrol tonight must have been the last straw.

"You're right. It's not fair" You'd utter and he stares at you, a bit taken aback from your sudden confession.

"It's not fair I get a head start compared to the rest... but that doesn't mean you can put out that anger at me! It's not my fault! Besides, you're clearly a smart dude and a very good brother from what I've seen. So why are you comparing yourself to me? It's like comparing a shark to an orca! It was never meant to be fair" You said. His eyes slowly trailing away like he was no longer able to look at you directly like he did before.

"I... sigh you're right... I'm... s—sorry" He muttered, his voice faint but you heard exactly what he was trying to say.

"Don't worry about it... I'm also sorry for the way I've treated you. Let's start over?" You asked, a slight smile on your face and he couldn't help but admit it was a good look on you.

"Yeah"

Ever since then, his behaviour around you seemed to change little by little. His questions seem to become less as he was now more attentive when listening to your answers. He'd also quit his weird staring habit... well just almost... he still stares at you but instead of looking so focused like you're a strange object, he looks at you with a more friendly expression.

His drastic change really got to you.

It was like a whole brand new person.

He began to act kind towards you. Even going as far as to offering to help with your strategy planning, it definitely threw you off guard when he told you he was willing to help. Obviously his constant yapping and disagreements are still there but they seem more playful compared to before. It was when you realised how he has made you laugh multiple times that you start to notice these feelings developing in you.

You almost hated yourself when you came to the conclusion you had fallen for the guy.

The same guy you could barely tolerate weeks ago.

The question now was that, did he feel the same for you? You could try reading his mind but would that be crossing the line? You'd be evading his privacy and that's the last thing you'd want to do. Inside the room where you laid on your bed, you couldn't help but think about these thoughts while also having your papers of plans scattered across you. How did all of these feelings even came from...?

"Well you're up early" He'd come in the room with a cup of coffee. You nearly jump at his voice.

"I'm early?" You chuckled, noting he was the one to be first out of bed.

"Jokes on you I didn't even sleep" He then placed his cup on his table before joining to examine your mess of papers.

"Now, shall we continue?" He asked to which you nodded.

It was hard to even focus being so close to him. Gosh you really are incapable of thinking now. You gulped, trying to remain calm. This was not you. You never act like this around anyone. All of this stressing made you zone out that Donnie took notice after realising you hadn't been listening to a thing he's been telling you.

"Hellllooooo? Have you used your telepathy to block me out? That's really typical" He'd say and it quickly took you back to the present.

"What?"

"What?" He laughs at your confused state. Ah this is giving you even more mixed signals...

"Sorry, just tired from waking up, let's continue" You said, trying to ignore what just happened, feeling as though you were slightly embarrassed.

"Nononoo, you've been constantly daydreaming everytime I talk to you. Something's up" He'd say.

Oh man some part of you wished he wasn't this observant.

"I guess... I'm just missing home...?" You lied, trying to excuse your behaviour. If he ever finds out you might just bury yourself.

"So you're homesick?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, there's no shame to it, the sooner we solve this the sooner we get you home" He said confidently.

He then moved closer to you, his actions causing you to freeze. You were unsure what he was trying to do as he inches closer and closer to you.... just to get a pen? You were embarrassed the second he moved back to his spot. With the pen in hand he continued on writing. Ah that was awkward.

All this beating around the bush was driving you crazy.

"I figured it out!" Donnie exclaimed and it got your attention. You turn to him to look at his plan. It was a bit complicated but with the right timing it could work.

Then you wondered what will happen after you finally found a way home.

Are you just gonna simply leave?

"You don't look awfully happy about this. Is the joy too much that you're struggling to express it?" He grinned.

You sigh.

Now would be the best time.

"No I just... uhm... I have feelings for you?" You awkwardly confessed. Your words making the grin on his face drop.

"I'm saying it now so that if you reject me I can just simply go and we can pretend none of this happened" You tried to lighten up the mood with a weak smile but the shock on Donnie's face made you wonder if this was a bad idea.

Suddenly he was blushing.

You had to blink twice to make sure what you seeing was true.

"Ah... why'd you have to make it worse for me? I was trying to get rid of these feelings" He ran his hand across his face.

What?

"Do you not love me?" You asked and it made him panic.

"Nono! It's not that, it's that... how will I love you if you're never with me? You have a home and I realised it's not here" He frown.

Maybe, it was in the heat of the moment, but you suddenly had a solution to solve this problem.

A solution you would blindly do for love.

"Then I'll stay"

"Sta—stay?! You can't—"

"But I can. Those space cops are out to get me and as much as I miss my people, I'm afraid I could put them in danger if I head back. Maybe... I can stay a little longer?" You said and for a second he stares at you... but soon his eyes sparkles with gleam.

"You wanna stay with me?" You smiled at how awfully innocent he sounded when he asked.

"I guess you've grown on me"

"Well wow... haha... okay... um..." He stutters, struggling to even put the right words in the right order.

"Do you want to um... eat lunch... together? I assume that you're starving right now" He said, trying to play it off.

"Sure, will you be cooking my meal?" You joked which he was quick to return with a smile.

"I'm starting to think you're gonna be more of handful now that we're dating"

"Likewise"

279 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months

Note

Hello,

I have a writing prompt for Michael Kaiser (Blue Lock): Kaiser gets into a pr relationship with an actress and they eventually bond and fall in love.

I think he would have a hard time because of his feelings of worthlessness, but this guy has so much potential, I swear, I love him so much.

If you want to go for a "dark side of Hollywood" type of concept, imagine: a young girl who was raised under the pressure of becoming "the perfect star" and surrounded by the chaos of the industry (Idk, the movie Black Swan comes to mind, or the typical representation of Marilyn's life, something along the lines). I think he could bond with someone who is in a similar mind space as him, but who externalizes it differently, remaining kind and such. He definitely needs someone who is empathetic and can see through his insecurities, and I really like the concept of two characters who are hurt helping each other heal.

If you don't want that much drama, scratch the idea of a hurt oc. Think about someone with an "entrepreneur" mindset: someone ambitious, confident, and level headed, who (again) is empathetic and would call him out and help him grow (I'm thinking about sae, but emotionally competent lol).

You don't really have to go for any of this though, it's just meant to get you inspired to write something for my boy Kaiser. I hope it's not too much. Also, there's no rush at all!!

Thank you in advance. I hope you have a good day 🩷

── THE INSTRUMENT

Synopsis: Michael Kaiser is like a rose, and you are the songbird he cannot bear to lose.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.8k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, implied/referenced abuse, call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, open ending, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: hiiii anon ty for requesting!! i hope that i wrote kaiser in a somewhat satisfactory way 😫 this is my first time writing for him so idk if i got him right 😓 also i have NO idea why but for some reason i decided to write this in the present tense which i literally have never done?? so if it sounds off that’s why 💔 i’m so sorry i really don’t know what possessed me SKDJFSHKL

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It’s hot and like a bruise, your first phone call with Michael Kaiser. He’s that brand of aggravating and just shy of painful to speak with; morbidly, you wish for the conversation to manifest as some kind of actual injury, perhaps on your upper arm, so you can poke at it until it is tender and blooming. But of course, that sort of thing isn’t possible, so you amuse yourself by tapping your fingers against the counter and considering what you might eat for dinner.

“Did you hear me?” he snaps when you do not respond to his proposition immediately. He speaks with an accent, clipped and short, lending severity to his words even when he’s saying nothing of note. “Miss L/N. It’s in both of our best interests to cooperate.”

He’s not wrong about this. It’s the only reason you’ve stayed on the call for as long as you have — it’s in your best interest. It’s the same for him, too, and the thought almost makes you laugh, because who would’ve expected your interests and his to ever align?

“Of course I heard you,” you say, twisting open your bottle of water, taking a sip and idly wondering if he can hear an accent when you speak, too. It’s difficult for you to notice your own, but maybe to him, you sound as odd as he does to you. “You should learn patience, Mr. Kaiser. Such a heavy request you’re making of me, and yet you demand my answer immediately?”

He huffs. “It’s not something you need to dwell on.”

“It might be,” you say, though it’s not at all. Your mind was made up the moment he asked; everything after that has been nothing more than a ploy to irritate him. You’re good at that, at irritating people. Michael Kaiser is not an exception.

“Miss L/N,” he says again, something like a darker version of pleading creeping into his tone. “Your answer. Now.”

“Well, you already knew before you asked, didn’t you? Naturally, I’ll do it,” you say. “It’s a mutually beneficial partnership. Though I expect you to really try your best, Mr. Kaiser, or else it’ll all be for naught.”

“I could say the same to you,” he says.

“Between the two of us, who is the actress?” you say, chuckling when he is silent. “I am sure that I will be convincing. It’s you who I worry for. Hiding your true feelings has never been one of your strengths, has it? Or you wouldn’t be speaking to me at all.”

“Shut up,” he says after a moment has passed. “I doubt your acting skills are anything to brag about.”

“I know you’ve watched my movies,” you say, and when he doesn’t refute this, you beam. “Have you really?”

“Only because someone I know suggested I should,” he says. “If I want to love you, then I have to understand you. That’s what he told me.”

“And what did you think?” you say.

“I thought that I don’t plan to love you at all, and then I told him as much,” he says, the force of his eye roll transmitting even over the phone. You’re not sure if he’s acting deliberately obtuse or if he really thinks you care about this inane conversation he’s describing, but either way you sigh, because his answer is so telling of his personality.

“I was talking about my movies,” you say.

“I don’t prefer the genre,” he says, and then he’s hanging up with a promise to call you later, if he is so inclined. He doesn’t tell you not to call him, but you feel like he implies it, so you vow to set your phone aside and pay him no mind for the rest of your evening.

I’m dating Michael Kaiser, you type in the body of your email to your manager, who you are certain will be so delighted by this news that he will combust spontaneously upon hearing it. You want to type it again, this unbelievable turn of events, so you do. I’m dating Michael Kaiser. Then you delete the repetition, reverting it once again into a formal email, instead of a giddy celebration over an event which should not prompt giddiness or anything resembling it.

It’s a relationship meant to salvage his ruined reputation and boost your career in one fell swoop, and so it’s a relationship that can only work if it’s formed between you two in particular. He, who is a foul-mouthed soccer prodigy, known better for his crass treatment of others than any actual skills he may possess, and you, a rising star who will do anything to be famous and are already of a serviceable status to be seen with him.

Despite your burst of excitement, the prospect of dating Michael Kaiser isn’t actually a thrilling one. The rumors of his horrid demeanor aren’t rumors, and you know this well, albeit through secondhand accounts. Cruelty is the way that he operates, his so-to-speak basal mode, and because it is so intrinsic to his being, you do not fancy that he will deviate from that malicious rule, even for you.

But you are accustomed to a false existence. Donning a facade and masquerading as a person who you are not is the only thing you are good at, are good for, and this time is no different than every other. You will put on the mask of a woman who is loved by Michael Kaiser, who has tamed that mad emperor and turned him into her sweet pet, and you will once again fool the world into believing you.

He’s doing an interview today. You’re only aware because he texts you right before and tells you to turn on the TV to a channel you’d never choose if you had a say in the matter. But you’re intrigued and he refuses to explain further, so you do as he commands and find yourself watching as he reclines back in a leather armchair and smirks at the host, who’s clearly nervous.

She’s pretty, her hands shaking but her expression serious. You’ve never seen her before, which means she’s new. Of course, that’s not a surprise; only someone very inexperienced or very stupid would invite Michael Kaiser to their show, and she does not seem to be particularly stupid, so her affliction is the first.

“Um, Mr. Kaiser, it’s a pleasure to have you with us,” she says, like she cannot quite believe that he is actually there, or like she is afraid of what he might take offense at, or some combination of the two.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he says, all roguish and self-assured, which is such a contrast to his typically surly demeanor that you have to commend the girl for keeping her composure.

They speak at length about his soccer career, throwing around words you do not understand and do not care to. It’s so boring you almost power down the television and tell him you think as much, but then the girl clears her throat, her face turning a comical shade of red as her fists clench the paper she’s been reading off of.

“This last question is from our viewers, but it’s personal, so if you don’t want to answer, then it’s not a problem,” she says, squirming in her chair, probably hoping he does not humiliate her. It will be bad for her career if he does, even if by now everyone knows what kind of person he is.

“Go on, then. I feel like we’ve built a rapport here, so I don’t mind it as much if it’s from you,” he says. It’s a perfectly packaged sentiment. His PR team must have tortured him into this new persona. You try to imagine it — it’s definitely a humorous thought, picturing the Bastard München representative slamming Michael Kaiser’s face into a bowl of water for every snarky comment he makes. Unrealistic, though. They would never risk compromising his performance like that.

“There’s rumors that you’re seeing Y/N L/N, the actress. A source who claims to be close to you both mentioned it online, and people can’t stop talking about the possibility. Neither you nor Miss L/N have addressed it, though, and our viewers were hoping you might…?” She cringes back, already preparing for one of his tirades, but he only smiles genially and winks at the camera. You remind yourself to tell him later that he’s laying it on too thick, even if you are enjoying this new character that he’s playing up for the sake of it.

“Y/N L/N? I’m shocked that you think I’m handsome enough to date someone like her,” he says. Your phone buzzes — it’s your manager, crowing about how impressed he is with your ‘boyfriend’ and his presence of mind.

“So it’s a no?” the interviewer says, almost hopefully. He’s mysterious when he shrugs, mysterious and more than a little coy, as if she’s flattering him and he’s too shy to accept the praise.

“If Miss L/N ever deems me to be worthy of her, then it’s a yes in a heartbeat,” he says. It’s an excellent setup for his redemption, and the girl plays into it so beautifully that you tell your manager to send her flowers or some chocolate at the earliest possible opportunity.

“I think that you’ve shown yourself to be an excellent candidate today,” she says.

“Have I? I’ve really been trying to prove myself,” he says. Dreamy sighs ripple through the live studio audience. Someone whistles. It’s all very romantic and fairy-tale-esque, although he is far from being any kind of prince.

“You’re doing great,” the girl assures him. “I’m sure that, if Miss L/N is watching, she’ll have no choice but to be smitten.”

“If she’s watching? Oh, the thought didn’t even cross my mind,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. You shouldn’t have doubted him and his audacity; he’s fallen into the role as if he were born to play it. “How embarrassing. I’ve just confessed to her on live television without even knowing if she’s interested…”

He’s actually blushing. You are doubly awed — he’s a natural-born talent. It’s a shame that he’s devoted to soccer; he could make it out like a bandit in the acting industry.

“No, no, don’t be embarrassed. How could she ever reject someone like you?” she assures him. How, indeed! At the moment, you are so pleased that you could kiss him. He’s better than any co-star you’ve ever had to work with, in that he is making your job exponentially easier instead of exponentially more difficult.

“If she really is watching, then I can only pray she heard you say that part,” he says, waving in greeting, presumably at you. “Hello, Miss L/N. I really admire you, so if you find me at all agreeable, then I would quite like it if you would say yes to the date I’m going to ask you on.”

He’s made the world swoon and your social media mentions triple. People are begging you to say yes, to give him a chance, to see how he has changed. They want to live through you, and you will let them.

When he calls you, you tell him you were thrilled by his performance. This causes him to shoot back that he finds you insufferable and condescending, to which you say that it’s what makes you and him such a perfect pair. Then you recite an address, and he asks you what you’re going on about. You answer that it is the place where you will have your first date, and then you hang up before he can respond, just so that you can deny him the chance to do it to you first.

Cameras flash in your faces as you enter the restaurant your manager has booked a reservation at. Michael Kaiser’s arm is wrapped around your waist, and it’s nauseatingly domestic, the kind of scene that would be the cover for one of those coming-of-age movies your agent loves booking for you. You wait for the frantic sound of camera shutters to slow, and then you tug on his sleeve.

“What is it?” he says. It’s quiet enough that no one else can hear, which is why it’s devoid of any warmth, but you are unruffled.

“Your tie,” you say. “It’s not crooked, but we will pretend that it is, and I’ll fix it so that there is something sweet to accompany the tabloid articles that will come out tomorrow.”

Your hands reach for his neck, and he does something you do not comprehend — flinching back, he shakes his head. When he realizes he’s done this, he grits his teeth, like the anger can make up for the temporary weakness. You do not press the issue, merely furrowing your brow and gazing up at him, doing your best to ensure that your eyes remain soft, so that the exchange is not misinterpreted by the parasites around you.

“No,” he says. “Do something else, but leave my tie alone.”

“Alright,” you say. It’s not sensible for you to argue, and anyways it doesn’t matter much what you are doing, as long as you are doing something. Humming to yourself, you adjust the lapels of his jacket. The cameras go off again. You pretend like you do not notice, like the world consists of only you two, and then you interlace your fingers with his, allowing him to drag you into the restaurant behind him.

It’s your turn to be interviewed. You’re wearing a dress, your legs crossed at the ankles — it’s demure and practical and prevents anyone from leering at you, so it’s been a habit of yours for quite a while. The interviewer is female, though, which calms you a bit. She’s older, around your mother’s age, and the wrinkles on her forehead remind you that you should call your parents and arrange for them to meet your doting boyfriend.

“Miss L/N, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to finally meet you!” the woman says. You think her name may be Anne, but she hasn’t introduced herself to you yet, so you’re not certain.

“You are too kind. If anything, it’s an honor for me to be here,” you say. The audience really likes that, when you are humble and shy and so darling. It’s palatable and easy for them to digest, or that’s what your manager tells you.

“Tell us about your upcoming projects,” she says after giving you the appropriate amount of praise for your charming personality.

“I’m currently shooting a new romantic comedy, but I’m afraid it’s all very hush-hush, so I can’t say too much about it. I think you all will really enjoy it, though, and I’m looking forward to the day that we can discuss it at length,” you say.

The conversation goes on like that for a bit, but you know she’s going through the motions because she has to, not because she wants to. There’s only one question she cares to ask, but if she just talks to you about your boyfriend and not your own accomplishments, then she’ll be blasted online as an anti-feminist. You hear quite frequently that this is akin to suicide in the world of marketing, so you can’t blame her.

That doesn’t stop you from having some fun. When she’s exhausted every possible avenue of questioning you about your future plans and past successes, you make as if you’re going to stand up and leave. Panic leaps across her face, and you snicker.

“We’ve spoken at such length about my acting career. You can’t possibly have any more questions about it, hm? You probably know more than my manager does!” Your attitude is balanced out by the joke. The audience laughs. It’s a fine line that you walk, but if you do not have the chance to act sharper every now and again, you believe you will die — internally if not externally — so you take such risks when you can justify them to yourself.

“You’re dating Michael Kaiser now, aren’t you?” she says. It’s a rancid curiosity she hides with a motherly type of concern. You brush off your legs, recross them, and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I am,” you say. You don’t have to play the games that he did; you both are established now. Official. A bona-fide couple. Anyways, it’s more appealing if you are outright with it.

“How has that been? You’ve really made a difference in that young man’s life, it seems,” she says.

The best way to lie is to tell the truth. “Yes, I suppose I have, but he has made an equal difference in mine. He is as good for me as I am for him; truly, I never understood what it meant when my parents called each other their ‘better halves’ until we met.”

In an hour, there will be thousands of posts online about this. If Y/N and Michael break up, then I don’t believe in love anymore! Maybe soulmates are real! Couple goals! These are the kinds of captions you are anticipating. The two of you will send screenshots to one another and laugh about how gullible the world is, and then you will strategically plan which comments to like and posts to favorite so that your message goes through. That’s the extent of your relationship with him, really, at least when the two of you are alone. The detachedness makes things much easier than they otherwise would be.

“There’s a popular theory going around that the two of you have had a secret wedding already. Is it true? Am I speaking to Mrs. Kaiser at the moment?” she says, eyes glittering like a vulture’s. She’s ready to pounce on any hesitation, any brief indecision that you might show, but you have spent more time in the spotlight than in your own parents’ home, so you don’t even waver.

“Marriage! I think we’re a bit too early in our relationship to be considering such things, and a bit too early in our lives to be rushing into major decisions like that,” you say. “If and when the time comes, you’ll be the first to know, but it won’t be for a while.”

It won’t be at all, actually. This relationship is not going to last for more than another month. Once the buzz surrounding you two dies, you and he will quietly split. It’ll be as if you never met in the first place.

Your phone rings as you’re leaving the studio. The caller ID says that it is Michael Kaiser, and the thought that he was watching your interview in the same way you watched his makes you feel odd.

“Hello?” you say.

“I’m not gonna marry you. Never-fucking-ever. If you’re expecting a ring, then put it out of your mind.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “How else would you have liked me to answer that question?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Neither of you hang up on the other — you don’t think you can summon the wherewithal to, which is out of character for him but typical for you — though you both also don’t speak any further. He stays on the line while you drive home, breathing softly like he is sleeping, but you are sure that he is not. The point of it is lost on you, but then you drive into a tunnel and the call ends on its own, so it’s moot anyways.

Your parents are excited to meet Michael Kaiser. They’ve read up on him extensively, watched all his interviews and even his game highlights. Your mother calls you the night before just so she can gush to you about how handsome he is, how you’ve really done well for yourself this time around. Her approval is nice to have, though superfluous, like a luxury soap or perfume.

Your father is the one who suggests you all go golfing. You don’t know how to play, and neither does your mother, but you recognize it’s his attempt at connecting with who he thinks is your boyfriend, so you accept. You’re not sure if Michael Kaiser knows how to play golf, or really anything besides soccer, but he is game enough to come that you suppose he must.

It’s warm out, the sun beating down on your father’s brow as he lines up the ball with his club. Michael Kaiser stands on his left, and you think he’s somehow beautiful in this lighting. Not beautiful how your many attractive coworkers are, but in a manner which is distinctly him and therefore utterly irreproducible. His body is lean and graceful, his hair shaggy and gold, though he’s dyed the tips blue in what you’re sure is a statement. The shade matches his eyes, and also the inked roses on his neck. You have long ago come to the conclusion that the flowers are also a part of that same statement, but you have yet to discover what that statement might be.

“He’s an improvement from that last boyfriend of yours,” your mother says, leaning back so that she can pour the last few drops of soda from her empty can into her throat. You and her are sitting together in the golf cart, seeking refuge in the shade of its plastic roof, sharing the drinks that your father had bought for himself and forgotten about the instant he stepped onto the golf course.

“He is,” you say. That’s not an exaggeration, nor is it something incredible. Your last boyfriend was an old classmate of yours who loved your celebrity more than he loved you. Michael Kaiser doesn’t love you, either, but he is honest about it, and you do not love him back, so there is no resentment between you and him.

“I like the way he looks at you,” your mother says. There’s a hiss as she opens a new can of soda. It’s a vice, but whenever you remind her of it, she dismisses you. She wants to have fun while she’s on this earth, apparently. Maybe drinking five cans of soda in one sitting means her life will be shorter, but life without soda isn’t worth living anyways, or something like that. The reasoning is stupid, but you know she is loyal to it, so you have to accept it. “It’s refreshing. So gentle. You’ll be talking to someone else, and he’ll just be staring at you like he can’t quite believe you’re his.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” you say.

Your mother is about to say something else, but she is interrupted by a loud whoop. Michael Kaiser has hit a hole-in-one, and before you can tell him to stop embarrassing himself, your father is cheering, throwing his arms around him and calling him son.

“Your father likes him, too,” your mother said.

“Oh, he needs to stop that! I can’t believe he’s making things so awkward,” you say, getting up to reprimand him before realizing that there is an entirely foreign sheen to Michael Kaiser’s eyes as he rests his chin on your father’s shoulder. He is not quite smiling, but it is a close approximation of the expression, and when your father ruffles his hair and says that it may have been beginner’s luck but he’s proud regardless, the curve of his lips becomes deeper.

You don’t understand, but you don’t need to. You may have facilitated it, but the moment belongs to him, and your presence is as unwanted as it is unnecessary.

You sit back down and take a sip of your mother’s soda. She grins knowingly and says that you look like you are in love, too. You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth, so you hum noncommittally and say that you might be.

You are growing fond of Michael Kaiser. It isn’t a slow realization — actually, it hits you very suddenly one day. He hands you a bouquet of flowers before opening the passenger door of his car for you. You ask him why he’s brought you peonies instead of roses, and he says it’s because he despises roses. It’s such an absurd answer and he says it with such a straight face that you have to cough in order to disguise your choked laughter.

“Those must be some other kind of flower, then,” you say, pointing at but not touching his tattoos, at the delicate petals which fold over his pulse, azure and bright and silky.

“No, those are roses,” he says, his knuckles growing white on the steering wheel. Normally, you wouldn’t ask further, but today you want to prod at his bruise of an existence, so you turn the music down and hug the peonies to your chest.

“But you despise roses,” you say.

“It’s a good reminder,” he says. “No flower lies quite as well as a rose does.”

That is when you are certain that you are partial to him. It is an unavoidable fact and also a treacherous one, but true notwithstanding.

You put the peonies in a vase of water when you get home that night and hope they never die, although you know that they will be gone within the week. It’s how time works. The peonies will die and you two will break up and you’ll have nothing but a bare kitchen counter and thoughts of his intricacies to remember him by.

There are no paparazzi around on the night when he wraps your hands around his throat. You are alone with him, sequestered away in the living room of his mansion, a bowl of popcorn shoved between the two of you while a movie plays in the background. This seclusion defeats the original purpose of the relationship entirely, but you sense that that original purpose is no longer fully applicable, so you do not refuse when he calls you and demands you come.

There’s a blanket tossed over your legs, the brilliant colors of his soccer club’s emblem faded from repeated washes. It’s warm, and if you were not busily eating most of the popcorn, you’d pull it up around your shoulders. As for Michael Kaiser, he’s facing the screen, his hair tied back in a knot, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and reflecting the visage of the lead actress as she laughs. You observe him as you snack. You’ve seen this movie before and didn’t really like it, so you’re not missing much. He’s more interesting by far.

“I know that woman,” you say, so that he has to acknowledge you.

“Hm,” he says.

“She’s a jerk,” you say.

“Sounds like your kind of company,” he says. You scoff, because he’s not wrong. He keeps watching the movie, and you keep watching him, until a thought occurs to you.

“Can I call you Michael? Even when it’s just us two,” you ask. He purses his lips. The actress screams. Her character has just died, but the scene is poorly shot and even more poorly acted, so it’s not as heart-wrenching as it should be. You would’ve done better, but your agent doesn’t want you taking any gory roles, and your manager agrees. In his professional opinion, it’ll ruin the doll-like persona you’ve spent so long cultivating. He’s probably right. It’s hard to adore a doll once you’ve watched it die so gruesomely.

“You can do whatever you want,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, swallowing another mouthful of popcorn, the salt lingering on your tongue long after the popcorn itself is gone. “Michael.”

“Yes?” he says.

“Nothing,” you say. “I just wanted to say your name.”

“Okay,” he says. “Y/N?”

He’s never called you that in private. Of course, when you’re out and about, he must refer to you with such familiarity, but in private you’ve never been anything but Miss L/N. It’s a change but a good one. You don’t want to ever be Miss L/N again. Not to him.

“Yes?” you say.

“I’m trying to watch this movie,” he says. “It has high ratings, so be quiet and allow me to finish.”

“It’s shitty,” you say, yawning and leaning back against the mountain of pillows you’ve created for yourself. “Overly gratuitous with its use of fake blood.”

“Right, because that’s a cardinal sin,” he says dryly.

“Sorry, but it’s hard to enjoy films when you know how they’re made,” you say. He picks up the remote and pauses the movie. You blink, because that’s about the last thing you expected from him. Then he turns the TV off entirely and you realize you’ll probably never be able to predict what he does next, so you should stop trying already.

“I know how movies are made,” he says.

“Did you have a secret acting career you never told me about?” you say. It’s a joke, but you also wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. He’s taken to performing like a fish takes to water, and every day you tell him he should quit soccer and devote his life to cinema because of this uncanny skill.

“Not me, but my mother was an actress, and my father was a director,” he says.

“Was?” you say.

“Maybe they still are,” he says. “I don’t know. We’re not on speaking terms.”

“Why not?” you say. He takes your hands in between his, and you can make out immediately that his instinct is to hurt you, to press his fingertips into your wrists so hard that they leave marks. It’s to his credit that he fights back the urge, fights it back and arranges your palms against his carotid arteries. His jaw clenches and his pupils dilate as he waits for you to realize; when you do, you rip your hands away for fear of wounding him further.

“Don’t pity me,” he instructs you, unpausing the movie like nothing happened. “And don’t ever bring it up again.”

Now that you have his permission to refer to him only by his name, you develop a strange fascination with saying it. He’s amused by your new fixation, answering you in a lilting tone every time you call for him.

According to him, you are like a small nightingale, always warbling, always happy, fluttering around beside him and changing his mood for the better. Well, if you are like a nightingale, then he is like a dog, and you tell him as much when you are sitting across from him at a coffee shop.

“A dog?” he repeats, his face pinching. He’s just taken a swig of the black coffee he always orders, but you know his disgusted expression isn’t a symptom of the beverage’s bitterness. “Take that back.”

“Not in a bad way,” you say. Your own drink is sweet, so you sip on it slowly to prevent a stomach ache. “I’m not calling you pathetic. I just mean that you are amiable and lively. It’s a compliment.”

“It’s not who I really am,” he says. “Have I deceived even you? Amiable? Lively? Remember why this entire scam began in the first place — because I am neither of those things.”

“Right,” you say. “A peacock, then. Terribly vain and entirely alluring.”

He relaxes and raises his cup to his mouth again. He’ll be up late tonight, he always is when he has coffee, but it never stops him from drinking it. “That’s better.”

The reminder that whatever you have with him is not real stings more than it should. You throw away your drink almost untouched, which does cause him to raise an eyebrow, but thankfully he refrains from commenting. It’s a relief, because you don’t even know how to explain it to yourself, let alone him.

He walks you to your front porch and waits with crossed arms as you fish for the key in your purse, shoving it in the lock once you have it in your grasp. His farewell when you open the door is stilted and abnormal, so you stop him with a hand on his arm before he can go.

“Michael,” you say. You’ve never said his name like this before. It comes from a place raw and deep within you, a place that you are certain is purple and black like a wound. You say it like you love him, and you think it must be because you do.

“Yes?” he says. It’s the way he always responds to you, his voice like a song, a small smile on his ordinarily strict face — though today, he is not smiling. Instead, he is frowning, like he has come to an understanding that he would have rather not reached.

“Never mind,” you say. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” he says. He drives away, his car disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing alone in the still-open doorway and wondering how you will survive the day when he disappears permanently.

You’re not sure what it is about him that makes pretending difficult, but suddenly, it’s a struggle for you to maintain your aloof front. You find it disconcerting, that he has taken this aspect of your identity and rendered it entirely null and void; it’s even more disconcerting that he has done it unwittingly and unsympathetically. If you loved him any less, you would hate him, because he has stolen who you are and left you blind and fumbling, but you fell for him, and the way you landed broke something fundamental, so that it is impossible for you to get back up.

“I think that I love you,” you say. You are on his couch again, and there is a movie playing again, which is all too similar to a past scenario that you think about when you are lonely. Tonight, it’s some soccer documentary that you find so tedious you are driven to irrationality.

He drops the glass of water in his hands; you reach out and catch it before it can spill, setting it on the table in front of you.

“What?” he says. You shrug.

“I love you,” you say again, and you’re flippant about it because you’re not telling him in the hopes he loves you, too. In fact, you know that he does not, so you are using him as a confessional; after all, the minimum he owes you is sharing the burden of this sin.

“There’s no one around,” he says. “You don’t have to lie. It won’t gain us anything.”

“It hasn’t gained us anything in a long while,” you say. It’s true — your relationship isn’t trending anymore, and most of your dates are in locations where you will not be recognized.

He stands up. The documentary continues as he paces, and a referee blows a whistle while he tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls. You stay on the couch, your eyes following his erratic movements, your hands folded in your lap.

“No, you don’t,” he says.

“I don’t what?” you say.

“You don’t love me,” he says. He wants to sound callous, you are sure of it, but the effect is lost on you. He sounds more lost than anything.

“But I do,” you respond. “Who are you to tell me I don’t?”

“Don’t,” he says. “Stop it. This instant.”

You laugh incredulously. “Do you think it’s that easy? I wouldn’t feel like this in the first place if it was.”

“Why?” he says. He’s still pacing. It’s like watching a tiger in a zoo. You want to study him, but he demands your attention in a different way. “Y/N. Why me? Why at all?”

“The reasons don’t matter, do they? I can tell you, but they won’t change anything,” you say, shrugging. “If you find yourself in the kitchen, bring water back for me. I’m thirsty.”

“Drink mine,” he says, pointing at the cup you had narrowly saved from disaster. “And quit your avoidance. Tell it to me plainly. Why?”

“Because you are you,” you say once you have drained half of his glass and your tongue is not quite as papery. “It’s a series of things; there’s not just one concrete reason. You hate roses and only drink black coffee. My mother thinks you’re handsome and my father is convinced you’re a golfing genius. You are a dog but also a peacock and then again an emperor. Don’t ask ridiculous questions and expect me to answer them when I cannot.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he says. “I’ll hurt you, Y/N, and I don’t — I don’t want to. You’re the only one who I don’t want to hurt, so just give up. It’s for the better if you do.”

“You won’t,” you say. “I don’t think you can.”

“Of course I can,” he says. “It’s the one thing I’m capable of. The only way I know how to love someone is by hurting them. I’ll do the same to you if you let me, and if you’re telling the truth, then you will let me.”

“Because I love you?” you say. “You think I’ll let you hurt me because I love you? For shame, Michael. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Please,” he says. It’s a word he’s never said, not to you and not in his life. Its weight hangs before you, pulsating in the air like it’s tangible. “If I love you, I’ll destroy you. And then you’ll leave, and it’ll destroy me.”

It’s a selfless desire that he’s disguising as a selfish one. You’re good at pretending, but you’re not good at telling when others are. That much is obvious, because if you had any talent at the latter then you would’ve seen that he’s loved you for as long as you have loved him, maybe longer. He loves you and so he’s urging you to flee, to destroy him before he can do it to you first.

“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t, huh?” you say, exhaling and finishing off the rest of his water. “Listen to me.”

“No,” he says. His obstinance is endearing, but you throw a pillow at him instead of cooing like you want to. He catches it and tosses it back. It lands beside you with a thump. You pat it for emphasis.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you.”

He plugs his ears with his fingers. “Nope.”

“I love you, I love you — hey, I know you can hear me!” you say.

“La la la,” he shouts over your voice, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you!”

“You’re cruel,” you say. “I won’t deny it. I know who you really are, Michael Kaiser. You possess cruelty in spades, but it’s in the way that a rose does. You have grown malice like thorns so that no one may come near your heart, and you think these thorns will tear me apart when I extend my hand past them. What you aren’t accounting for is that I have done so already. I have reached your heart and still I am intact. Now, what is there to cause me harm — a mere flower? But a flower can’t cause anyone harm, least of all a person such as myself. You can’t, or more importantly you won’t. I believe that you won’t.”

He stares at you. The soccer team in the documentary still playing behind him scores, and the crowd roars in approval. You stare back at him and wait.

“I hate roses,” he finally says. “I hate them a lot. They’re the worst kind of flower.”

“I don’t know about that,” you say. “I quite fancy them.”

“They prick your fingers,” he says.

“Not if you are gentle,” you say. “Not if you understand them.”

He buries his face in his hands. “Go home, Y/N.”

You do as you are told, flagging a taxi and shivering while you wait for it. You wish for things to be different, but the amount of unfulfilled wishes you’ve made outnumber the stars in the sky, so you add this one to the list and vow to move on.

You have no desire to leave your bed the next morning, but you are also hungry, and your hunger wins out over your despair. You muster up the energy to roll out of your sheets and trudge downstairs, but you are miserable as you do so. You are utterly miserable, and the fact that you are only worsens the feeling, trapping you in an endless kind of loop.

When you enter your kitchen, you are surprised to see a pot of flowers sitting innocently on your counter. You didn’t put them there, so you should feel afraid, but they’re roses, and they’re the same arresting shade as the sky, so you don’t. You only grin, slowly and then all at once as you begin to giggle helplessly.

There isn’t a card or an explanation provided, but you don’t need either. You already know who they are from.

#kaiser x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #michael kaiser #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #fake dating #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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