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#so I'm planning on making it like.. a box every few months
deoidesign · 6 months
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I've been... Busy 👀
Trying to get all 4 arcs from season 1 into books!
(not available for sale, these are print proofs. I'm planning a Kickstarter early next year!)
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waughymommy · 2 months
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My first 'mature' ABDL story. It's about a husband and a wife who have a problem. I hope to write a lot more after this, so I hope you like it!
Finding Mommy
'This isn't working.'
The statement didn't come as a shock to Andrew. He knew it wasn't working. But he didn't want to look like he didn't care, so he persued it, already feeling resigned and bitter about the discussion's inevitable conclusion.
'What isn't?' he asked, softly.
'This. This whole...baby thing. I can't do it,' his wife, Tammy, waved her hand in his direction. He winced, glancing down at his apparel. A slightly soggy diaper, and a t-shirt. He'd been wearing the same thing to bed every so often for a couple months now. His wife had initially chuckled and teased him playfully, but lately...lately the playful teasing had stopped. She wouldn't remark on his padded state, except if the diaper got too close to her. 'The tapes scratch my skin,' she'd explain, but Andrew suspected it was something else.
She went on.
'I'm sorry. I thought I could. I know you really want this. But I can't do it. I can't...pretend you're a baby. The diapers were one thing...but...I can't do that,' she looked away, as if preparing herself to say something upsetting. 'You know...when you first told me...you made it sound...sound like a sex thing...I don't mind that. I don't even mind...using them, sometimes...like...like before...you know?'
She trailed off, looking at Andrew, a pained expression on her face. Andrew's mind flashed back to when he'd first told her, almost a year and a half ago. How she'd been so...accepting.
--------------------------------
'Are these ones good?' Tammy asked, as she patted the package. 'I wanted to make sure I got good ones...I ordered these a few weeks after you told me...they just arrived on Monday.'
Andrew glanced at the large box of diapers, feeling a stirring of excitement at the fact that she'd bought so many...a whole case, in fact. God, what was she planning? Was this going to become a regular occurence? Was she going to keep him in diapers, for the whole day? Or wear herself? His head swam at the possibilities.
'I...uh...what are they?' he asked, licking his lips, nervously.
'Abena?' Tammy replied, scrunching up her face, trying to recall something. 'I...Abena X-plus? They had so many different names, but I think these are the good ones. Abri-form L4...The large ones...I wasn't sure what size we'd need...Oh.'
She suddenly stopped, pausing, as if worried about what she was going to say next. She reached into her (rather mysterious, to Andrew, at least) handbag, rummaging around. Andrew waited patiently for her to speak, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the large box on the bed. Abena X-plus was sure to be a world away from what he'd tried so far. He knew these were premium diapers. He felt himself jolt back to reality as Tammy started talking again.
'I bought...these...as well...'
Another package slid onto the bed, only this time it wasn't boxed or freshly delivered. It was clearly a packet of diapers. A packet of OPEN diapers.
'On the site I got the...uh...Abenas from, they were selling purple ones, too,' she said, nervously. 'So...I got some of those, in a smaller size...'
Andrew's mind could have exploded at that moment. Tammy stood up from the bed, an audible crinkling coming from her pyjama bottoms. Andrew couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the bulge of her diaper before, but he certainly noticed now. He stared at her rump almost hungrily as she turned sideways, looking coyly at him, grabbing the edge of her pyjama top and starting to lift it, revealing the purple waistband of the diaper.
Andrew stepped forwards, reaching out. His hand ran over her bottom, slipping off her trousers, until she was standing in just a diaper and a shirt. He patted the material of padding, pulling her close to him, hand trailing around and around the crinkly undergarment, feeling it, feeling /her/ through it.
'I...I guess you like it?' Tammy asked, feeling a little awkward. Andrew made a noise halfway between a sigh and a groan.
'Yes,' he replied, simply.
'Would you like to wear one, too?' she asked, wriggling her bottom against his crotch, making him tense a little.
'Y...yes...' he gasped, hardly believing what was happening...
'Then lay down on the bed for me...'
-----------------------------
That night had been amazing. Andrew couldn't believe his luck. They'd spent the whole evening in diapers, exploring and experimenting. It felt like his wildest fantasies had come true. This beautiful woman, his future wife (he'd chosen to tell her a little while after they got engaged), was willing to wear and use diapers for him. He couldn't believe it.
She seemed almost as eager as him, that evening. She did everything he'd ever fantasized about, sexually. She wet. She asked for a change. She changed him...they even had...well. Andrew wasn't sure what to call it. Lots of rubbing. Wet, squishy diapers pressing together, then pulled aside for the 'main event'. Was that diaper sex? He supposed so. It was wonderful, whatever it was.
He wondered if what happened next had been a turning point. At the end of the evening, when they were snuggled in bed, she'd sighed contentedly and lazily rolled out of bed.
'Be right back, hun,' she told him huskily, slipping out of the room in an instant.
She'd returned, after a couple minutes, undiapered, her bottoms now back on. She'd smiled and gotten back into bed with him.
------------
'Why did you take it off?' Andrew asked, a little confused. 'Didn't you like it?'
Tammy dodged the question, but sounded just as confused as Andrew. 'Well...we're done now, aren't we? I'm really tired...I don't think you're up to going again, even I wasn't...'
She paused, sidling up to him in the bed, absent-mindedly flattening the covers over her. 'Why haven't you taken yours off?' she asked, finally.
'I...Well. I just...thought I'd like to keep it on. That's...okay, right?'
A few moments ago, he'd been certain it would be. It seemed silly even to ask. But now he wasn't so sure.
'Oh. Um. Sure,' Tammy replied, smiling again. 'I love you.'
She kissed him, turning away, and Andrew slipped his arms around her from behind, murmuring 'I love you, too' into her neck.
---------------
'That was okay. It made me feel...sexy. I loved that I could have that effect on you. It made me feel good, too,' she thought for a moment. 'I felt like your partner, then. I felt like I was desirable, sexually, like...like this was a special secret, between us. Something for the bedroom, something kinky and fun. I didn't care that it was nappies, I knew people had fetishes...but this isn't just a fetish, is it?'
Andrew swallowed as she fixed him with a steely gaze.
'Is it, Andrew?'
He shook his head 'no'. It was more than that. He wished he'd explained before. He thought she'd understood.
'You...want to be a baby, don't you?'
Andrew's mouth opened in protest.
'No! I mean...not all the ti-'
Tammy raised a hand, cutting him off.
'I know. Not all the time. Not most of the time. Not forever. Just occasionally, right? Like when I tried before...but for real?'
Andrew swallowed and nodded again. He remembered the brief times she'd tried to play 'Mommy'.
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'Uh...crawl to me...come here, you naughty little baby...'
Tammy's voice was strained, as she patted the top of her legs, calling Andrew over.
Meanwhile, Andrew himself was feeling...well. He wasn't sure exactly.
There was something a little exciting about the humiliation his wife was bringing to this role. He found something arousing about how she threatened to spank him, how she called him names and teased him. It felt, well, /naughty/, and he decided he sort of liked that. It was very erotic.
But...he wasn't looking for this to be erotic. Something was wrong. He didn't feel like a baby; he felt like a naughty boy being punished. He didn't feel safe and looked after. He felt chastised and a little ashamed. He felt unspeakably adult, despite the baby bonnet and mittens he was wearing. Instead of an innocent little baby, he was some weird guy, crawling around, pretending to be an infant, calling his wife 'Mommy'.
'Crawl to me!' Tammy repeated.
Andrew sighed, starting to move.
'Yes, Mommy...'
-------------------
'I thought that was really weird, but you know...' Tammy shrugged. 'I tried. For you. I thought you wanted that. I thought it was a sex thing still.'
Andrew shuffled in the bed, feeling uncomfortable. He wished he hadn't worn to bed, now. He'd felt a pang when he'd gone to pad up; his case of abenas was nearly empty; her package of molicares was two thirds full. He hadn't expected her to use them of her own volition, but it was a reminder of just how infrequently she'd worn, for him or otherwise.
'Then,' Tammy continued. 'Then you told me that wasn't what you wanted, either. You wanted it to be more...innocent...more 'snuggly'.' That last word was almost a snarl, and Andrew felt himself flinch.
'So I tried that, too. But I couldn't do it...I mean...' she sighed, pushing the hair back out of her eyes, sighing in frustration. 'Remember what I told you when you told me this stuff?'
­Andrew nodded.
­­­
-----------------
'Aren't I...doing enough?' Tammy asked, a look of confusion on her face.
'No! No, it's not that...it's more that you're doing it the wrong way...' Andrew immediately regretted his words, seeing his wife's expression turn sour.
'No! I mean...I...I think maybe I didn't really explain what I want, not properly. It's not just the baby stuff, dressing up and that...I want...' he swallowed, hesitant.
'Well...I want it to be more...um...innocent? Like...like...I was a rea...' he stopped himself. 'Like, more snuggly? You know? Maybe some...cuddles...at bedt- at night time...I'd like to be, um...held...sometimes...'
Tammy stared at him as if he had just sprouted a third head.
'So...you want me to be like your real mother?'
'No!'
'As if you were a real baby, right?'
'I...No...I mean...it's not like you're my real mother...I...I just want you to...'
'To what? Look after you? Like an infant?' Tammy demanded, her voice even.
'I...I...in a way...yes...I just don't want it to always be so...sexual...'
Tammy sighed. There was a silence before she finally spoke.
'Okay. Look. This is pretty weird to me. I'm not comfortable with it. But I love you, Andrew. I always will,' she looked up as she spoke, taking Andrew's hand in her own. 'But I don't know how to deal with this. I don't think I can...do that. I'm sorry.'
'Oh.' replied Andrew, simply. He hated himself at that moment. If he'd been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.
'But,' Tammy started, nibbling her lip. 'BUT. I'd like to be okay with it. So...You can do something...something small...I don't know, you could wear a nappy to bed. And I'll try to get more comfy with the idea.'
Andrew's heart leapt. Everything was going to be okay.
---------------
Andrew's heart sank. Everything was going wrong.
But Tammy wasn't done yet...
'I tried so hard to...to accept this. I started off like...like it was no big deal, remember? I used to tease you and you'd smile and for a bit, I thought maybe I could be okay with it. But then, then you started to...I don't know. Resent me? You pulled away. It wasn't enough for you. And maybe I pulled away, too. It hurt to see you wanting me to give you something I wouldn't, couldn't give you. It hurt to see you shut me out because I couldn't understand. So...now we're here...'
'Where is here?' Andrew said, asking, for the second time that night, a question which he really didn't feel he needed to ask, but if he didn't ask it, he knew it would appear he didn't care.
'Here? Here is...my husband wants to be treated like a baby...NON sexually...and I can't cope with it,’ she paused, seemingly thinking hard about something. Her mouth opened again, this time drawing out the sound of one little word, waiting for a statement to follow it.
‘So….’
Andrew swallowed. He waited for the crushing blow. He didn’t know what she would say, but he could guess.
‘So you can’t wear diapers anymore around me…’
‘So I don’t want diapers in the house anymore…’
‘So I don’t love him anymore….’
‘So I /can’t/ love him anymore, and I think we need to get a divorce…’
He knew whatever was said next would change their relationship forever. He was about to lose something, he didn’t know what exactly, but he also knew life would be a lot harder without him. He looked up at her with grim determination, resigned to whatever awful things came out of her mouth next.
‘So…’ she began again, and Andrew felt himself stiffen, worry making his heart pound.
‘So I think we need to find him…find you…someone who can.’
Andrew gawped at her. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. What was she saying? Was she leaving him? She must be… she was just being the wonderful woman she always had been, willing to help him find a more ‘appropriate’ mate, someone who’d be happy to indulge him. He felt his eyes sting a little as tears formed, before, in the silence, another possibility occurred to him.
She’d been watching him closely, and seemed to notice as a flash of something, hope, realization maybe, passed across his face. He addressed her again, voice shaky.
‘Do you mea-‘ he was cut off abruptly.
‘I mean, just someone to do that for you, you know?’ Tammy explained, her voice emphasizing the word ‘that’ in a way that made it clear she found ‘that’ distasteful. ‘I…no sex. I’m not leaving you. I love you, I always will, I think. I hope. I just…I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Andrew. And…I know this is so, so important to you. I see it, Andy, I see how much you want it…’
It’s her turn to look scared now, her eyes filled with tears, rolling freely down her cheeks. She’s shivering, but it’s not cold. Wordlessly, Andrew embraced her, his own manly sob joining her small, squeaking ones, her voice cracking as she tried to go on.
‘I…I don’t want to lose you…I’m…I wanted so badly to m…make you happy, but I CAN’T. I’m a horrible, awful wife. I’m a fuck-up. I…I don’t know why you married me!’ she howls, throwing herself into Andrew’s chest, his arms soothing her, rubbing her back, shh-ing her like you would a crying child. A tiny smile formed on his lips for a moment, as he considered the role reversal.
But it was soon replaced by another kind of smile, the kind that happens when you realize maybe you’re not alone, that your partner is just as afraid of what’s happening as you. That he or she is afraid of the exact same things. It was a tearful, almost regret-filled smile.
‘If only we’d talked about this sooner…’
He shook his head, clearing his mind. Right now, he had to help Tammy feel better.
‘Ohh…oh hun…’ he said, his own voice wavering, fighting back another hard sob. ‘Shhh… you know, I’ve been worried about the same thing. I thought I was an awful husband. I wondered why you wanted to be with me. I didn’t understand. I thought…just now, you were going to leave me…’
Tammy jerked back, head snapping upwards to look at him, a look of something…hurt, Andrew decides. Hurt he’d think she would do that. Her face pink and flushed, her cheeks damp with too many tears.
‘Never,’ She retorted, instantly, and then she was back in his arms, crying anew. ‘Never…I…I NEVER want to lose you…’
Andrew smiled again, sighing, a little in relief. Of course, given her earlier outburst, he already knew that…but it was lovely to have confirmation.
‘I know Tam, I really do. Now, at least. But I want to let you know, I love you too. I don’t think you’re an awful wife…you’ve been so understanding. Please, don’t think I don’t love you, don’t think I resent you, or hate you or think ANYTHING bad about you, after you’ve tried so hard to fulfill me and my selfish, perverted desires.’
He felt her shaking her head, disagreeing, with the part about her trying so hard, or the part about his desires being perverted, or both, or something else…he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter at that moment.
‘So I’m just telling you, no matter what, I’ll love you. I’d have loved you even if you said I could never wear another diaper. I’d have loved you even if you told me you’d stopped loving me. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself…’
Tammy’s cheeks turned a little pinker, her sobs dying down.
‘Are you sure?’ she asks, not moving to look at him.
‘Positive,’ he says, more confident now. ‘Do you feel better now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you ready to talk about…it?’
‘…Yes.’
There was a pause as Tammy pulled away, slowly, reluctantly, so she could look at him. She smiled, her eyes wandering over him, as if appreciating him newly. When she reached the diaper her expression clouded, eyes flitting back up to his, as if just remembering they had something else to discuss now.
‘So…do you mean it?’ Andrew asked, anxiously.
‘Yes.’
He looked unconvinced, so Tammy continued.
‘I don’t have a problem with it. I really don’t. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, an-‘
‘Why didn’t you ask me before?’
‘Wh-what?’
‘Why didn’t you ask me before?’ Andrew repeated, his tone not demanding or forceful, but genuinely curious.
‘I…well…’ Tammy looked away, embarrassed. ‘I was scared…’
‘Why?’
‘Well…first I was worried you’d say no, because she wouldn’t be me, and you wouldn’t be able to feel anything with her. And if you said no, I’d be out of options. I don’t know what would h-happen if…’ her voice broke again, eyes swimming with tears. Andrew frowned slightly.
‘What else?’
‘I was afraid if you said yes, you would love her...too much. You’d leave me. Because you don’t love me at all, not anymore…how could you? I mean-‘
Andrew squeezed her hand suddenly, shaking his head, stopping her from working herself up again.
‘Not true, love. I want you. I love you. I’m not going to replace you. Even if I agree to this, I promise,nobody’ll never replace you…are you sure you’re okay with this?’
Tammy nodded.
‘Yes.’
‘What…sort of things would she, uh, do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Tammy admitted, seeming to shrink back a little. ‘I mean…change you? Give you bottles…pacifiers…play with you like a real baby.’
Andrew felt his heart flutter twice; once at the prospect of a genuine Mommy in his life, after so long… and once at the sudden feeling of utter love for Tammy that swept over him. ‘The ideal woman…’ he thought, snorting somewhere inside his head at how corny that was.
‘Would I be allowed to call her Mo…’ Andrew blushed, dropping his voice to a whisper.
‘Mommy?’ he finished, waiting.
‘Yes. Of course. I mean, that’s what you want, right? A Mommy? For the…the baby inside you? Just no sexual stuff. Please. I need that from you.’
Andrew nodded unhesitatingly. The thought of having sex with another woman (beyond occasional fantasies) had never even crossed his mind. He was missing an emotional, platonic, maternal bond, not a passionate sexual one.
They both smiled a moment, almost in triumph. They were still together. This might just work out.
‘So…’ Tammy started, grinning now.
‘So…’ Repeated Andrew, a playful smirk joining hers. ‘What do we do now?’
‘Now? Now we sleep. I’m so tired. I just want to be held. I’m so…worn out…’ she leant forwards again, nuzzling his chest, smiling softly. She sighed, a long, happy sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
‘Okay…do…you want me to go change before we-‘
‘No. I don’t want you to leave.’
Her tone was demanding that time, and Andrew chuckled. She wriggled, pulling the covers out from under them both, as they each shuffled and worked to lie down, his arms still wrapped around her. Their heads reaching the pillows, Tammy smiled wearily, shifting away a little, finding her husband’s body too warm for comfort. He leaned forwards and kissed her on the forehead.
‘Goodnight Tammy…’
‘Goodnight…’ she hesitated, wondering if she was really going to say this, worrying he’d take it the wrong way. She stopped hesitating.
‘Baby,’ she added, one hand slipping down and squeezing the soggy bulge of his diaper. She watched his face for a reaction.
Andrew blushed a little as she withdrew her hand.
It was a simple, loving gesture. A show of acceptance.
It hadn’t meant anything else. She wasn’t going to baby him. She didn’t see him that way. She didn’t want to be ‘Mommy’. She was his wife, and she was just showing how much she cared, how safe he was with her, how much she truly wanted him to be happy, even in this.
At that moment, that was all that Andrew needed.
He lifted his hand to squeeze her retreating one, smiling.
‘Thanks,’ he said, earnestly.
With that, she sighed slightly and turned around, snuggling into him backwards. Tomorrow, she thought, was sure to be a very interesting day.
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Too big to care
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I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!
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Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.
Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics
Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task
Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.
This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith
And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.
When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).
We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.
Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.
I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…
I tried it. It was magic.
No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.
That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.
The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):
https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family
I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.
Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:
https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/
Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:
When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.
In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.
The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:
https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework
No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.
One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":
https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml
Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM
The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):
https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own
But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."
What a phrase!
Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.
Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.
Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:
https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board
Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi
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starphasedd · 1 year
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Ghost makes sure Graves knows his place.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader drabble (nsfw)
I'm obsessed with the idea that once Ghost finds out that Graves has a thing for you, he toys with him in the worst way. Because Graves is down bad--and he's a slimey punk. He deserves it.
I did not proofread this. Just pure, unfiltered, smut straight from my noggin.
It was an uncontrollable urge.
Your secret relationship with Ghost had only been full-fledged for a few months. But in those few months--you spent an extraordinary amount of time together. You got to know him better than anyone--he opened up to you. Not much, but more than you'd seen him with anyone else. And the sex? It was fucking incredible.
He got to know your body extremely quickly. Anytime you got to be alone, he had you half naked and buried underneath him. His massive hips smashing forward into yours--his big cock splitting your tiny cunt open. He made you feel so fucking good, any chance he got. He learned your body with expertise you'd never seen before. It wasn't experience-per say. Because he wasn't that sexually experienced. But he was an expert in combat techniques. He was good at analyzing and planning his attacks with a one hundred percent follow-through. He did the same with your body.
He loved the feeling of your core wrapped around him. He loved the sound of your sweet mewls as he wrought pleasure on your body that you'd never felt before. He loved the way your face curled into that same cock-drunk expression--how your glossy lips parted to reveal pearly white teeth as you let every sound slip out naturally.
But he especially loved how your tiny hands frantically grabbed for him--how you'd rather hug him close to you than anything else. There was something so intimate about the way you made love to him. And it drove him wild.
So when he started catching on to Graves--he had to physically contain himself.
On one occasion, he came around a corner to see Graves nearly boxing you in against a table. You had your arms crossed, a blank expression on your face as you tried your best not to snap at him. Ghost knew you had a particular dislike for Graves--you were annoyed by his presence alone. Graves was, again, trying to convince you to go on a date with him.
You and him went way back--all the way to the academy. He's had a thing for you since then. But you never gave him the time or day. And with your growing liking of Ghost, Graves knew his time was limited.
He tried every time he saw you. And you gave him the same response every time. Well, a lack there of, actually. You blatantly ignored him--like he didn't exist. And when Ghost was around, you always gave all your attention to him. Graves was threatened by this, and it showed.
Ghost was so fucking proud of you for this.
He wanted to make a lasting impression. So every night Graves was around, Ghost marked you. The two of you never had loud sex--your relationship was kept private. And Ghost didn't want any other man to have the pleasure of hearing your sweet moans. But he found his ways to mark his territory. He would leave little bite marks on your neck, or fuck you particularly hard so you wobbled a bit the next day. And Graves knew. Fuck yeah, he knew alright.
Graves got more aggressive after that started. He even put his hands on you on one occasion. Ghost's fingers twitched at his side as he watched Graves slide his hand up the curve of your spine. Only to see you pull away and give him a mean look before walking towards Ghost. He couldn't help but grin under his mask.
That night, he fucks you hard. Whispering sweet praises to you in the dark.
"This little cunt belongs to me. Yeah, sweetheart?" He groans in your ear, his thrusts are hard and unfaultering.
All you can do is cry out for him, eyes screwed tightly shut as your hands reach for him. But he isn't there, when you grab for him. You open your eyes to see him leaning up. Now he's sitting up straight on his knees, cock still thrusting into your wet heat as he reaches into his pocket.
He pulls out his phone.
His free hand comes down to lift your shirt over your breasts, revealing the swollen lumps bouncing harmoniously under your black sports bra. He keeps fucking you like this, and the flash from his phone turns on.
It isn't a picture--it didn't flash once. No, he's taking a video.
You blush at the thought--but can't help the sweet moans that tumble from your lips as Ghost keeps fucking you. His free hand moves your panties to cover what he can of your sweet pussy.
You imagine the camera can see his big cock filling you repeatedly, but he only moved your panties to the side this time--not ripping them off per usual. Now you can tell his true intentions.
You thought for a moment this may be for him--but no. If it were for him, he'd have you bare assed like he usually does. No, your important bits are all covered. Your plump breasts are concealed under your bra. The naughtiest part of your cunt is covered by your panties. The only thing he can see is his big cock thrusting into your wet cavern.
He continues recording as he fucks you, and his free hand comes up to slip his thumb into your mouth. You close your eyes, closing your lips around the digit to suck down hard.
"Perfect little minx, just for me, yeah?" He groans out.
The camera light on his phone nearly blinds you when your eyes snap open. You cum hard and he quickly follows after.
You lay there, his cock still burried inside you. He drops his phone, bracing his arms on either side of you as he catches his breath.
"He'll regret the next time he puts his hands on you."
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.
Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!
Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it
Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.
Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.
They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.
Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.
Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.
A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.
"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"
This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.
Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.
"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."
The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."
Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"
This means, "We will meet the double tonight."
The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.
They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)
They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.
They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.
"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.
"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.
"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"
"You be surprised......."
Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.
There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.
Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.
"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.
"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."
"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.
He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.
"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"
"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.
Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.
"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.
"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."
Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."
Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"
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meownotgood · 2 years
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married life / hayakawa aki
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married life with house-husband aki.
pairing: hayakawa aki x gn!reader
genre: headcanons / fluff, just lots of domestic sweetness
note: this post is sfw, but this account contains nsfw content. please do not follow if you are a minor.
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❥ You were the one who proposed first. It started as an off-handed remark: Hey, Aki, have you ever considered getting married? Without fully understanding what you were implying, he replies, I'm not sure, but I wouldn't mind being married to you. Needless to say, you popped the question not long after.
❥ You'll never forget the look on Aki's face when you asked him to marry you: his eyes were wide, and his face was flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. When he tried to speak, all that came out were incoherent stutters, but as he knelt down and hugged you, you heard him whisper, Yes. I'd love to.
❥ You consider yourself fortunate that your job has always allowed you to live comfortably, your salary easily enough for two people to live off of. For the first time in, well, ever, Aki doesn't have to be working himself to the bone all the time. He isn't used to this, and it took some adjusting to, but once he settled in his new peaceful lifestyle, he grew to really take a liking to it.
❥ Aki enjoys dwelling in something simpler, in a quiet sense of home. He finds comfort in the little things, in taking care of day-to-day tasks and the household chores. When you come home, a smile on your face once you see what he made for dinner, the stress leaving your shoulders when he tells you how he took care of everything — Don't worry about anything at all, you can relax now. When he's able to help you, to let his beloved feel at ease, it makes it all worth it.
❥ He's always been a chef at heart, so Aki enjoys making you dinner every single night. He asks you what you'd like to eat tonight before you leave for work, and he gives you a few suggestions if you aren't sure. He makes a mental note of all the ingredients he needs to pick up from the store. Then, he prepares dinner in earnest, expertly chopping vegetables, adding spices and having a taste to make sure it's perfect. He always plans it perfectly so that as soon as you come home, you'll have a delicious hot meal ready for you.
❥ Over the months and years you've spent together, Aki has memorized all of your preferences. He knows what flavors you like, and he remembers what you don't like; he always excludes those things from the recipe.
❥ You're no stranger to breakfast in bed, either; Aki will crawl out of bed as softly as possible, cooking quietly in the kitchen, careful to avoid stepping on the floorboards that creak. He'll brew some hot coffee, waking you up with a kiss to the forehead, a steaming mug and a plate of pancakes in his hands. Good morning. Did you have sweet dreams?
❥ When you arrive home from a long day of work, Aki takes your coat off your shoulders at the door, hanging it on the coat rack. He unites your shoes for you, then wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, his hand tenderly holding the back of your head. The very first thing he says to you each and every time is, Welcome home, I missed you so much. How was work?
❥ And when he can tell that you've come home stressed and upset, he wastes no time, pulling you into a tight hug the second you've walked in the door. Bad day, huh? C'mere. Let me hold you.
❥ Aki makes you boxed lunches in the morning for you to take to eat at work. He makes sure each one is a balanced meal, with enough nutrients to get you through the day. There's always a hand-written note tucked inside, wishing you a good day at work, and reminding you of how much he loves you. Have a good day today. Hey, there's a festival going on downtown tonight, would you like to go? Let me know later. I love you. :)
❥ If you happen to forget your lunch on the counter, Aki will drive all the way to your work just to hand it to you. He pretends not to overhear when you start bragging to your co-workers about how much of an amazing husband he is, but he's smiling to himself on the entire drive home.
❥ Honestly, he'll never get used to you calling him your husband. It always makes his heart flutter and warmth rise to his cheeks. He still can't believe this is real, that he is married to the love of his life, and gets to spend the rest of his days peacefully beside them. After everything he's been through, he thinks he deserves it.
❥ He frequently admires his wedding ring, turning it over and rubbing his thumb along the smooth surface when he's reminded that it's still attached to his finger. Real, tangible proof of your marriage, proof that you belong to each other. Aki's heart skips a beat just looking at it. Sometimes, whilst you sleep, he'll grasp your hand and admire your own ring, too.
❥ You don't think you've done your own laundry since Aki moved in — He's always done it for you. He quickly learned what goes in all of your drawers, and how you like to organize your closet. When he washes your clothes, he seperates the whites from the darks, and he uses a special fabric softener that leaves them smelling divine. He folds all of your clothes neatly, and if you wish, he'll even pick out outfits for you, arranging everything so that you never have to worry about what you're going to wear in the morning.
❥ Aki makes sure every single chore is handled before you even come home. Dishes? Yep, he's already washed them, dried them, and put them away. Trash? He took it out ages ago. You don't have to stress about any of it.
❥ As he cleans the house, dusting every surface, he admires all of your knick-knacks, all of your belongings that have blended with his since you've moved in. He's extremely careful with your things, setting them back exactly where they were. A soft smile settles on his face when he gazes at the photo frames of you and him, and all of the pictures you've taken together.
❥ There's photos from your honeymoon (his arm is around you, you're kissing his cheek), and your wedding (he's crying like a baby at the altar, his hands clasped in yours). When you took visits to both his hometown and your own, you look lots of pictures of the scenery. And there's even shots from your various vacations, including his favorite picture of you that he's ever taken — You're at the beach, the waves washing over your toes, the sunset illuminating you perfectly. You look amazing, but honestly, Aki thinks you're stunning in every single one. He feels delighted to be reminded of those memories.
❥ Aki's favorite part of housework is tending to the garden. He waters the flower beds with a watering can, and then carefully tends to the soil of the plants. The best part is harvesting everything he's grown — tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, strawberries — and letting you have a taste. He'll chop up the cucumbers into slices for you, he'll make a cake out of the strawberries and feed you a slice. Is it good? Tell me what you want me to grow next year. I was thinking lettuce would be nice, I can make us some salads.
❥ He still has much to learn, but Aki managed to pick up sewing in the time while you're away at work; if you ever rip your clothing, or if the washing machine ever snags a button, he'll sew it back up for you, just the way it was.
❥ Although you tend to be busy, you and Aki have a designated date night where you always spend time with each other. Sometimes you go out to a fancy restaurant. Aki helps you pick out a glamorous outfit, does your hair for you, and stands behind you, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he clasps your necklace. Oh, you look so perfect, sweetheart. I can't believe I get to call you mine.
❥ He opens the car door for you when you arrive, and he allows you to hold his arm as you step out. When you sit down, he pushes in your seat for you. And of course, he orders for you, too. If there's something on the menu you said you might want to try but weren't sure if you'd like it, that's what he orders, and he's sure to give you a bite. If you enjoy it more than what you ordered, he'll swap your plates. And if you choose to order something out of your comfort zone, he orders your favorite, so that if you dislike your meal, he can just give you his. Aki spends more time helplessly staring at you than he does eating, anyways.
❥ But, if you're not feeling up to anything crazy, Aki is perfectly fine spending date night staying in. You'll cozy up on the couch, a blanket over your bodies as you watch whatever movie you've been dying to see. Aki pops homemade popcorn for the two of you. When you fall asleep on his shoulder, he turns off the television and carries you to bed in his arms.
❥ Aki wouldn't force you to, but if you wanted to take his last name, he'd be absolutely overjoyed. He would be honored to give you such an important part of himself. A smile tugs at the corners of his cheeks whenever he watches you sign paperwork with Hayakawa, and tears well in his eyes when the two of you visit the graves of his family, reminders that he isn't alone anymore, that you're his family now.
❥ Each night, you have a routine of telling Aki how your day went. Aki recounts everything he managed to get done today, and you tell him about anything exciting that happened, or rant to him about all of your stresses. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and Aki rubs slow, soothing circles on your back.
❥ He listens intently to every detail, praising you for your accomplishments: You finished that big project you were telling me about last week, didn't you? You've been working so hard love, why don't we do something special tomorrow to celebrate? Or, comforting you when you've had a shitty day: I'm sorry, baby. I don't understand why your boss has to be such an ass sometimes. If there's anything I can do to help you out tomorrow, just tell me.
❥ And yes, Aki knows that you really need your sleep for the busy day ahead, but sometimes, he just can't help but keep you up. It's not his fault you're so perfect he can't stop staring. You certainly can't blame him for wanting to kiss every inch of your sleepy face over and over again, until there isn't a single place his lips haven't pressed to.
❥ If you can't fall asleep, Aki holds you close and hums you a lullaby. It's some dumb love song he heard on the radio that reminded him if you. He can't remember the lyrics, but he still remembers the melody.
❥ You quickly discovered that when he gets really comfy, drifting into a deep sleep, cuddled up beside you, Aki snores a little. Not very loudly, just a quiet, low hum each time he breathes. You're sure he doesn't know, and you'll never tell him. You find it absolutely adorable, and his gentle snores always help to lull you right to sleep.
❥ Before he met you, Aki would have terrible nightmares every time he slept. It was unavoidable — Nightmares about his family, about devils, reenactments of every memory he's ever tried to forget. But now, as he drifts off in your arms, he has nothing but good, pleasant dreams.
❥ Aki will try his best to make sure you are never late for work, offering his assistance in the morning in any way he can, but if you ever are late, it was probably because he didn't want to let you go. He grumbles in your ear when your alarm goes off, his arms around you pulling you closer to his warm body. You say something about needing to get ready, but he just holds you tighter, sleepily mumbling, Just five more minutes.
❥ Your morning routine has been carefully woven into his. Aki brushes his teeth beside you, so close his shoulder is nearly touching yours. As you brush your hair, he ties up his, and once he's done, he's wrapping his arms around your waist and peppering your shoulder with gentle kisses. When you're showering, he writes cute love messages on the fogged up mirror for you to see when you get out. He never forgets to give you a goodbye kiss before you leave for work.
❥ Aki is always paying careful attention to your health and his own, so it isn't often that either of you fall ill. He always reminds you to take your vitamins in the morning, and he makes sure the meals he prepares are as balanced as possible. But, in the unlikely case that you happen to get sick, Aki takes the best care of you.
❥ He can tell you're not feeling well when you wake up stuffy and exhausted. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, and when he feels the heat radiating from your skin, he shuffles out of bed to grab the thermometer. You have a terrible fever. Stay home today, sweetheart. I'll call your boss for you.
❥ He makes you easy to digest meals, he brings a wet washcloth and lays it over your forehead. Don't even think about getting out of bed, because Aki will make certain you're getting plenty of rest. If you're bored, he has no problem sitting next to you and reading you a book until you fall into a peaceful slumber. He doesn't care if it's gross, you can sniffle and wipe your nose all over his t-shirt and he won't mind. He'll hold your hair for you and softly stroke your back if you have to throw up, and he'll toss your pile of used tissues while asking you if you need some more.
❥ You tell him to sleep on the couch that night so he won't catch your sickness, but he never listens; he sleeps with his arms around you without fail. You'll be alright, just rest up. I'm here if you need anything.
❥ If you come home from a particularly bad day, Aki will immediately run a warm bubble bath for you. I'll have the bath ready for you soon, darling. Do you need anything else? He lights some nice smelling incense and candles. Then, he helps you strip down and slip into the relaxing hot water. Before he leaves to toss your clothes in the washer, he asks if you want him to bring you anything to drink, or if you'd like a shoulder massage.
❥ It wouldn't be hard to convince him to come in the bath with you. He'll let you lean on his chest while he washes your hair, his fingers gently scrubbing your scalp until you feel like you could fall asleep right then and there. And of course, he dries you off afterwards, wrapping your body up in a warm towel he took straight out of the dryer.
❥ Even if it makes it more difficult, he always keeps an arm linked with yours while he does the dishes, or a hand intertwined with your own when he's preparing dinner. If he absolutely can't, he takes regular breaks just to pepper your face with kisses.
❥ Aki also takes breaks from cooking dinner just to slow dance with you in the kitchen when your favorite song comes on the radio. He doesn't have the best rhythm, and he's still trying to get the hang of it — He apologizes for stepping on your toes, you simply laugh and kiss his lips.
❥ When the weekend comes, you and Aki like to spend the night drinking at home, sitting on the balcony and watching the twinkling stars. Aki always seems to end up getting just a little too drunk, his face flushed out, his words slurred when he babbles every little thing that comes into his mind. You're so perfect, you know that? C'mere, I wanna kiss you.
❥ If you go out to drink instead, Aki is always the designated driver. He watches you carefully, making sure you don't drink too much, keeping his arm around you when the bar starts to get busy. He never has a lot to drink himself so that he can drive the both of you home safely.
❥ Aki has no problem driving you anywhere, really. He's probably the best driver you know, and he always asks you if your seatbelt is on before he even shifts the car out of park.
❥ If you ever bring up the idea of starting a family together, Aki immediately turns into a blushing mess. He isn't opposed, not at all, in fact. The idea makes him feel warm inside — Settling down with you, raising a family of his own, growing old together with the one he loves. He'd be there by your side for the whole thing, helping you paint the walls of your spare bedroom, or taking care of the kids while you're away at work. He'll finally quit smoking for good, like he's been meaning to do for a long while. You're both still a little too young to think about it now, he figures, but sometime in the future, he'd love to have that kind of life with you.
❥ Your parents love Aki, that's just a given. He's so polite, kind and sweet, and so willing to help at every turn. He feels truly elated whenever he gets the chance to impress them with his cooking. He'll always participate in your family traditions, no matter how odd or unfamiliar. Honestly, your parents are happy for you, and it makes his heart feel full to know they're glad to call him their son-in-law.
❥ Aki will kill all the bugs in the house if you're too scared of them. You don't have to fear spiders ever again when he's around, just call for him to come take care of it and he'll come running with the bug swatter.
❥ He never, ever forgets an important date. Aki already has the most lovely day planned out for the two of you on your anniversary months in advance, and he's up until 12 in the morning baking you a delicious cake the day before your birthday.
❥ If you prefer, Aki will be the one to schedule all of your doctor's appointments for you, and he has no problem always being the one to call if you're ordering take-out.
❥ He tries his hardest to understand all of your interests, and he diligently remembers even the smallest of details about yourself. Oh, when you were in grade school, you went on a trip to the aquarium that you never forgot? Aki takes you there on your days off, and he always recalls which exhibits are your absolute favorite. He asks you questions about your hobbies, and enjoys watching you partake in them. He'll even try to learn them if he can, so he can enjoy the things you love together alongside you.
❥ Aki tells you he loves you at every opportunity. I love you is the first thing you hear when you wake, and the last thing you hear before you fall asleep. At the altar, he said it as a promise, a declaration to be in love with you for the rest of his life. And he says it now, breathlessly, in between every kiss he places on your lips. I love you, more than anything. You're the one I want to be with for the rest of my life, I'm sure of it. I couldn't imagine living without you, my angel.
❥ Aki is forever grateful to wake up every morning by your side, your face being the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. In many ways, he doesn't understand how he got so lucky, fortunate enough to live such a perfect life. If anything, he promises to never take it for granted, to love you and care for you until it's all over. You changed his life, and he wants to make sure every single day, you know you mean more to him than all of the stars in the glittering night sky. He's glad to call himself your husband, and he's even happier to be able to call you his.
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the-ace-with-spades · 2 months
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(another unfinished post i found on the way to glasgow - that was the longest train ride in my life - I'm sorry in advance)
When Ice finally passes away, at the age of 73, in his sleep, Bradley moves Mav into their house the same day.
He gets the call in the morning, while trying to simultaneously cook Jake's breakfast and try to make their daughter put on a rain jacket. It's not Mav, but someone from the hospital. Jake doesn't know this — Bradley's face twitches only for a second and then he's back to the nagging, relaxing tone and telling their daughter it's raining and it won't stop. Jake only finds out when he comes back home from the school drop-off and Mav is already there on their couch. Jake doesn't even get the full explanation until that night, just a quick, "Ice passed away overnight."
There's only their three youngest living with them at the time — their 18-year-old daughter who attends UC San Diego, and their 15-year-old son who is still in high school, and their 7-year-old daughter — so Mav takes one of the vacant bedrooms.
The first few nights, Bradley sleeps in the same bed with him. Neither of them looks like they get much sleep. They don't really eat, either, just drink coffee and nibble on the crackers.
The kids start coming back home, and their oldest helps Jake arrange most of the things for the funeral, at least for the first few days. Mav is... numb, not really there, and Jake understands — he would, too, if he woke up one day and his husband died in his sleep next to him. Bradley is silent, mostly, the way he usually rambles to fill out the silence, the way he hums, the way he sings at any given time when there are no words spoken, it's all gone and Jake doesn't know how to fill out the silence either, how to ask, how to make it better without asking.
Bradley doesn't cry, or at least not the way he knows Mav does — he can see Mav's red eyes every morning — but there's something empty in his gaze, in the way his eyes follow Mav and in the way he melts whenever Mav is around, always close, always brushing against him. Mav spaces out a lot, doesn't talk much, doesn't—well, doesn't do much. Every time he tries to help with something, paperwork, the funeral arrangements, the hospital bills, even just sorting out the kids' school leave or Jake's own work leave, he fumbles a bit, not really able to focus on anything for long, and it's like his mind is completely scrambled. Jake doesn't know how to help him — doesn't know if they even can.
The kids, well, did not take it well, as expected. The oldest two try to be brave and help Jake with everything, keep the house going, but their youngest daughter doesn't really understand why her pops isn't back, the middle kids don't understand why now — Ice was in remission, in good health, would go hiking with them once a month, play with them in the backyard, talking about plans for the future with them, nothing that would tell them to expect their pops passing away. Mav and Ice had taken care of all of them for years, while Jake and Bradley were still deployable, and helping out as much as they could. Ice was a huge part of their lives, since the very beginning.
Bradley is certainly not doing any better but one couldn't be able to tell if they didn't know him well enough. He's always been more for packing his feelings into a tight neat box, compartmentalizing until there is too much and it all overflows in some explosive way. His focus is mostly on Mav and the kids, trusting Jake to take care of anything he can't.
Jake can't even ask him how he's doing until the night before the funeral.
Mav tells Bradley he wants to be alone that night and Bradley lands in their bedroom.
He acts normal — checks the kids are in bed, checks on Mav, prepares stuff for breakfast in the morning, has a shower. Only when he sits down in their bed, their dress blues, cleaned and pressed sitting on the hangers hooked up on their wardrobe, right in front of him—only then he freezes, a blank stare still on the uniforms.
Jake sits down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me, Bradley."
"I knew it was going to happen at some point, I just," "I just thought we would have a few more years."
Bradley sleeps curled up on his chest — he sleeps the whole night, soundlessly, and Jake is almost settled.
Almost. Mav is a couple doors down, alone.
Ice's been—had been retired many years now, but he had been high enough in the ranks that the Navy still insists on making a military funeral. Jake tried to take away as much of the flashy bullshit as possible, but there are still things leftover — the sailors with the flag, the flyover. But there's no one who wasn't close with the family at the ceremony, there's no speeches, and no one tries to hand either Mav or Bradley a flag.
The wake has an even smaller amount of people, all packed in their house — Mav hasn't been at his own house since — and thanks to Slider, mostly, and his 'the bastard wouldn't want us to mope around', it's less sad and quiet.
Mav eats two slices of cake, which is the most Jake's seen him eat since, and even laughs at some stories about Ice people are exchanging.
Ice had a good life. A big family. A big happy family that loved him.
But life goes on without him. Jake goes back to work first, then the kids have to go back to school, then Bradley has to back to work. After a couple of days alone at their house, Mav starts bringing up moving back to his own house.
He's not really doing great. He's still quiet, still spaces out more often than not, still forgets himself sometimes, still freezes whenever he tries to say something and the we he uses is one person short. He's—lifeless, for a lack of better word, and seems like he's noticing it now that Bradley isn't with him most of the waking hours.
"That is our home," Mav tells them. "I can't abandon it forever, I'd be abandoning him, too, if I—"
Jake—Jake gets it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.
Bradley's been fielding off any suggestions of Mav moving out but he's pretty sure that soon Mav is going to pack his stuff and up and leave without asking for permission.
"If he wants to move back home, we can't exactly hold him here. against his will."
"Jake," Bradley says. "I feel like—if we let Mav go back there alone, he's going to die of a broken heart and I won't have either of them anymore."
"Sweetheart—"
"I know it's selfish," he interrupts, "but I can't lose him, too. Not now."
Jake can't make Mav stay with them — so he finds the best solution he can and instead, they all move in with Mav. Hell with it, he's going to try to get everyone to live their lives to the end. They'd done it before, Mav, Ice, Bradley, Jake and their two kids under one roof, when their oldest two were their only two kids.
The two of them and two of their youngest; two of their kids move into their house so they don't have to sell it.
Mav lives on. They try to occupy his mind by throwing their youngest at him — ask him to take her to school, pick her up from school, take her to her gymnastics class, do her homework with her, teach her how to play piano. The other kids pick up on it, too, and their high schoolers would wrap Mav into doing math workbooks with them, or ask him to drive them to their friends' house, and the kids that have moved out ask Mav to go to lunch together or call him to ask him things about car and house repairs that don't exist.
Mav gets brighter every day. Never as bright as before, but no longer so numb.
Their daughter ends up never moving out and so do they.
They all get older but Mav holds up pretty well. He does break his hip when trying to wash the windows, had a limp and terrible back ache ever since, had to stop driving because he can't see shit, had to stop piloting even sooner, and his memory is also shit, but Jake is pretty sure his cholesterol is lower than his own and he has better blood pressure than Bradley. Bradley and Mav are the ones cooking after all, Jake is the one eating all the tasty but not healthiest food, and Mav's life revolves around spoiling his cute great-grandkids and Bradley's is filled with the constant stress of managing Navy's top flying school.
For his ninetieth birthday, Mav flies a fighter jet as a passenger, the oldest person to ever do that — his youngest granddaughter is the one to take him up in the air, a junior grade lieutenant herself. They have a birthday party held at their house, Mav falls asleep in the armchair, Bradley makes fun of him and promptly falls asleep on the couch, too. Jake loves them both so much and still kind of can't believe he has this — house full of grown-up kids and grandkids of his own, his graying husband of over thirty years, his father-in-law coming to an age he wanted to see his mother at.
They're cleaning up, their two daughters who still don't have kids and didn't need to go home helping, and Mav tells them he's going to get some fresh air on their veranda. "I've got a terrible headache," is all he says.
Half an hour passes, they've packed all the clean and dirty dishes, and Bradley huffs to himself. "He fell asleep on the bench again, didn't he," and goes outside.
Bradley shouts for him in less than a minute. The ambulance is there in eight. Within the half-hour and a CT scan in the hospital, the neurologist tells them Mav is too far gone to survive the day. Within six hours, every single person from their family has come to say goodbye. When they pass the seven hours mark, Jake stands up from the plastic chair behind Bradley — he's not about to tell Bradley he should rest, but he's been holding Mav's hand since the minute they admitted Mav to the ward and hasn't eaten or drunk anything all day. He tells him he'll go grab them a coffee and bagels and gets a little nod and a smile.
Jake comes back twenty minutes later and Bradley doesn't even look up from where he's gripping Mav's hand.
"Can you get the nurse for me?"
316 notes · View notes
allysunny · 8 months
Note
Hello. Can I request a fic with Nanami and the reader? The reader has a toxic family and asks Nanami to be her fake boyfriend at the family meeting. If possible, it could be comforting.
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Faking it for the Family | Nanami Kento x Reader
Words: 5.5k
Warnings: Toxic family, mentions of weight (as in, berating and telling someone to watch what they eat), very rude comments from Reader's family, maybe some OOC Nanami? I don't know, you tell me! And please do warn if I forgot something :)
A/N: Aaaa my first Nanami request! I'm so excited about this! I love this man with my whole heart, he's my biggest anime crush of all time! Now, I do warn you, it's been a while since I've touched jjk (it was a traumatic experience, shibuya is my canon event), so if you think Nanami is OOC, then that might be why. But I can also see him being vocal when it comes to someone he cares about, protecting them and expressing his feelings - or at least trying to.
I hope I did your request justice! I'll be honest, I'm very fortunate to come from a very healthy and loving family, and don't quite know the dynamics a toxic one would have. Nevertheless, I did some research, and I hope you're happy with the final result! I also stayed up until like, 2am because I wanted to post this one before I went on a small vacation and stopped writing for a few days! Totally worth it!
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“Your what?”
“My boyfriend.” You repeated firmly.
Scratch that, you were scared shitless.
A few days ago, your mother had called you, asking (more like demanding you) to come see her. According to her, only “bad, ungrateful children” abandoned their parents. According to her, you were turning into a “bad, ungrateful child”.
“You don’t call, you don’t visit. It’s like we never did anything for you, is that how you treat the people who brought you up?” She nearly cried into the phone. Victim-blaming was along your mother’s strongest talents, it always had been.
She’d also reminded you that it would be a shame if you showed up single. She gushed about your cousins, how lovely their wives and husbands were, and how you clearly weren’t working hard enough to find a man.
“It’s not like you have much to offer, dear. The least you could do is prove yourself to be useful, make sure you find a nice man and snatch him up. Perhaps if you learned how to cook properly instead of pursuing that silly passion for books… And you need to start putting some effort into your appearance! No man wants a dishevelled woman – look at how well your cousins are doing!” Then, dismissing her whole behaviour, she’d go, “You know I’m only saying this because I care about you, right? It’s for your own good.”
It made you shudder just from thinking of it.
You’d nearly glared a hole into your phone that night, considering cancelling.
You ran all options through your head.
If you pretended you were sick, your mother would just assume you couldn’t take care of yourself and visit you to do that herself.
Hard pass.
If you said you had plans, your father would tell you to prioritize the family who had sacrificed so much to give you a good life, and to stop being so selfish.
Hell no.
No option seemed good enough.
In the end, your parents would always find a way to make you feel inferior and blame you for not being able to attend. You wouldn’t hear the end of it for at least a few months.
That’s not something you wanted for yourself.
You considered your mother’s words.
Going alone seemed like a nightmare alright. But perhaps if you found someone to attend with you…
There was no significant other in your life (the nail in your coffin, just another reason for your parents to berate you, and you it’s not like you could fall in love with someone in a span of 4 days just to introduce them to the family.
And then, an e-mail from a coworker gave you a brilliant idea.
Nanami Kento was one of your coworkers.
You weren’t the closest offriends, but still – friends.
You two went out for drinks after work every so often, sometimes ordering a box of pizza to share while working overtime at the office. God knew how much you hated it, being forced to work longer than expected, but Nanami shared the same sentiment, and it made work more bearable for you.
You didn’t talk much outside of work – Nanami was a private, reserved man, and you never did have the courage to seek him out. So you settled for a few jokes at the office here and there, the occasional smile, and bringing him bread and pastries sometimes. Nanami was quite the foodie. Outside office hours, maybe a “Have a nice weekend”, or if you were feeling brave enough, a meme – it took him a while to get them, but it was amusing to get his reaction through text.
He was smart, kind to a fault, and handsome. Very much so. You knew he was single, and to be fair, you had no idea why. With those lovely, warm chocolate brown eyes and golden hair, he could get any woman he wanted. And God, his physique… You had once tripped and held onto his arm – the man was made of rock. He was a total catch, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about your little overtime endeavours to end up with a goodnight kiss, or perhaps something more. In fact, you’d developed a little crush on him, sneaking away during lunch breaks to try and talk to him, catch up, or just know how he’s doing.
That’s why he was perfect.
Your parents would be appeased, and the family gathering would be much more bearable.
“It’ll just be for a night,” You continued, trying not to sound very desperate. You weren’t sure where you stood with him – were you two close enough to ask such a favour? “We don’t have to do anything physical – just maybe hold hands so they can get off my back. I’ll be forever in your debt, please. I need your help.”
Nanami looked at you curiously. You could see his eyes clearly – Nanami had foregone his glasses during lunch break. What was he thinking? Perhaps he was reconsidering his whole friendship / acquaintanceship. Maybe he was simply coming up with a way of politely declining. Nanami had always been to kind to trifle with you or mock you, God, you’re so stupid, why would he go out of his way to help someone he’s not that close with? It was idiotic to ask.
“Never mind that.” You mumbled, quickly shaking your hand, and dismissing the idea. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a weird request and we don’t know each other that well, and – “
“Sure.”
Your eyes must’ve turned as wide as saucers. Sure?
“If it would help you out and ease your mind, I don’t mind it at all.” He replies, the soft lull of his hypnotising voice making your heart skip just a bit. “I do know what it feels like to be surrounded by people you’re not fond of.”
You suppose he’s right. Every year when the company dinner takes place, you find yourself sitting in a corner, hidden from everyone else. It’s the one time of year where you two can actually talk and consider each other more than simply two coworkers. Maybe even relatively good friends.
You beam at him, bowing profusely. There were no words to describe what you felt – this man was willing to be your fake boyfriend for a whole evening?
“Thank you so much! This means so much to me, you can’t even imagine it!”
Nanami simply nods.
“Shall I pick you up at seven?”
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Most often, people stared at themselves in the mirror to check their appearance, try on clothes, maybe give them an ego boost. You? You were practicing facial features.
A hard smile for when your mother told you to “Eat less – you’re gaining weight.”
A polite nod for when one father eventually said “You need to give up those silly hobbies of yours – become a real woman, a good wife.”
A dry chuckle for when one of your many cousins gushed about the wonders of marriage, and how amazing it is they got married so young, to fully explore all romantic bliss and life alongside your soulmate – or something. You never made it twenty seconds without appearing bored of your mind and making your way to an empty chair away from others.
You just hoped they’d leave you alone for tonight, or at least stop with the comments. You wouldn’t be able to handle being humiliated in front of Nanami, of all people.
Speaking of, it’s nearly seven, so you grab your purse and make your way downstairs. Your outfit is nothing bland, just like how your parents would like it. A simply yellow jumper and denim jeans – God forbid you wore a skirt too short, or a shirt too flashy in front of your family. You’d be sure to burn at the stake for that one. This outfit was simple and modest and was sure to keep them quiet for a few minutes.
A little ring from your phone broke your line of thinking.
From: Nanami Kento
I’m outside.
You quickly spotted him in his car, and your jaw hung.
He swiftly exited the vehicle, walking towards the passenger’s side and opening the door wide for you.
You don’t know what to say.
So, he does it for you.
“Good evening.” He’s looking extra dashing, with a dark blue polo shirt that hugs his figure ever-so-perfectly, and slacks. His hair is parted as usual, but it seems much more casual, less uptight, less professional. He’s once more refused to wear his glasses, so you can see his beautiful face up close.
His strong jawline, the strong planes of his face, the thin eyebrows that never did much to conceal his eyes – he looked straight out of a fairytale. The fact that he looked so relaxed, out of his business attire and clad in casual clothes, made this vision much more alluring.
“Hey,” You answered, giving him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to do this; I could open the door by myself.”
“Nonsense.” Nanami shook his head, gesturing to the inside of the car. “Shall we go?”
As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, he left the driveway. You’d sent him the coordinates before, so there was no getting lost as long as you followed the GPS.
There was a small awkward silence between the both of you – it was only normal. You and Nanami didn’t hang out that much after office hours, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you would have no topics to discuss.
“So…” You started wearily. Might as well warn him about your family. There was no way you were letting this man meet them without being prepared. “I should warn you in advance – my family is…. Well, they’re not conventional.”
“Hm? How so?” He questioned you, quirking an eyebrow yet never taking his eyes off the road.
“They… They might make some rude comments. Or say things that make you uncomfortable. I know I told you about it the other day when I asked for this favour, but I just want to reiterate it. They’re… Well, they’re hard to deal with.” You finished. There was no other way to describe your family.
Growing up, they’d been all but supportive. Berating you left and right, making you believe you were as worthless as the trash on the street. Nothing you did ever amounted to anything. Your grades were never enough. Your passions were always overlooked – the books you read “filled your head with crazy fantasies”, the music you listened to “polluted your mind”.
If you left the house with no makeup on, your mother would assume you weren’t trying hard enough. Would say you looked sloppy and dirty, and that it was shameful to see you not even attempt to pull yourself together. And when you did leave the house looking pretty and proud of yourself, your parents would break down your confidence once more, assuring you that you’re clearly trying too hard, and that men don’t want woman who paint their faces as if they were clowns and dressed in skirts so short, they barely earned the name.
Your achievements didn’t matter. Not when your cousins earned scholarship after scholarship, brought home successful, handsome men or women, assuring the family they were well off and didn’t need to worry about much.
To your family, all it mattered was your image. To them, you were the black sheep of the family. No partner, no children, no high paying job, no success. Considering their mentality, how they still associated themselves with you was a puzzle.
Not even once did they stop to consider your feelings.
Moving out had been the best thing that happened to you.
Sure, it was hard at first.
You spent too long in front of the mirror, wondering if you looked good enough. While conversing with others, it was difficult to open up about your passions and hobbies, for fear of being shut down and dismissed.
But slowly, you’d regained control of your life. You went out when you wanted, with who you wanted. You wore the clothes you liked, without worrying about your parents’ hurtful remarks.
Nowadays when you looked in the mirror, you saw a proud young woman, as opposed to the scared little girl you saw in your early years.
Which made returning to them ever so difficult. They managed to turn you back into that frightened little girl you once were, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing and making them look bad. They managed to destroy all of the confidence and self-love you’d built for yourself all these years.
“I’m sorry.”
It was Nanami’s voice that brought you back to reality.
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry. Clearly, a family that treats you that way does not deserve you.” He said, matter-of-factly. Like it was the easiest thing in the world, to admit the family that spent years breaking you simply wasn’t worth your time and thoughts.
“Yeah, well.” You mumbled, looking out of the window. What could you say? In theory, you knew he was right. He had to. Other friends who knew about your past told you as much. But it was a completely different story to put that into practice.
For the rest of the ride, a silence fell upon the both of you. None attempted to break it.
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“Remember our story, right?” You questioned the man next to him. He stood right next to you, tall as a tower and just as unmoving. You could never guess what was going on in that beautiful head of his.
Nanami nodded silently, turning to you.
“Are you sure you want to do this? We can make up an excuse and leave, if you want to.” He said, and for a while, you considered it. It’d be nice to ditch on your family and spend some time with your coworker. But once again, you knew how this movie ended.
Sighing, you shook your head and gave him a weak smile.
“It’s okay. It’s just for one night.”
He nodded once again.
You took a deep breath and stepped forward, ringing the doorbell.
Almost immediately, the door opened, making way for a woman none other than your mother.
She looked so… so… perfect. Annoyingly so. It made your blood boil. It reminded you of how, in her eyes, you were most definitely not perfect.
Nanami glanced at the woman in front of you. She looked like a perfect copy of you. Or rather, you were a perfect copy of her. But there was a clear difference between the two: While she looked uptight, abnormally prim, and proper, way too polished, you looked, well, natural. This woman looked like her only job was to look good, while you were an effortless beauty. He can only imagine what kind of things a woman like this could’ve told you all your life to make you so nervous back in the car.
“Honey!” She chirps in a voice he can only describe as fake. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” She pulls you win for a hug, mumbling and muttering about how long it had been since you’d last seen her, how unkind of you that was, how you had no consideration for your family. Ouch.
“Hi mom,” Was your hushed answer as you tried your best to hug her back. And then just as quickly, tried to get away from her bone-crushing embrace. “Y-You can let go now.”
And she did, staring right at Nanami.
“Oh.” She very obviously stared at him up and down. There was no subtlety to the way she ogled him, and you felt some strong second-hand embarrassment from her actions. “And who might this fine young man be? Did you finally step up and get yourself a nice man?”
You sighed. This was going to be a very, very long night.
Nanami stepped forward, placing a warm hand on the small of your back, a hand that slowly brought you closer to him.
“Good evening, Mrs.” He said politely, offering his hand for the woman to shake. She did so gladly, showing him a perfect smiled. A perfectly forced smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Mom, this is Nanami Kento. He’s… He’s my boyfriend!” The words felt nice in your mouth, natural. It’s like he was meant to be your boyfriend. Boyfriend. That’s nice.
“Boyfriend! Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” The woman exclaimed, pulling him inside. “Come in, come in! Of course, you’d be late – We were all waiting for you!”
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When you told Nanami your family was harsh, he was picturing something very different. Maybe some unwanted jokes here and there. A comment about your major, a joke about your driving, maybe even some embarrassing childhood stories.
He wasn’t expecting this.
“It is such a surprise that our dearest [Y/N] has finally brought someone home!” Your mother announced, sending her daughter what Nanami thought was a rather sheepish smile. “I mean, at some point we thought we would be the family’s spinster, ha!” And then she sent you the most condescending smile, one that made you want to crawl into a hole and cry. Not even after discovering you have a boyfriend (well, a fake one, but she doesn’t need to know), your mother could be supportive.
“Well, I’ve always been full of surprises,” You retaliate bluntly with a tight-lipped line. Nanami slowly brought his hand under the table to squeeze yours, and when you faced him, you were met with a look that meant more than a thousand words. Stay strong. I’m with you, he seemed to silently say.
“Kento – mind if I call you Kento?” Your father interrupted loudly, not sparing you a glance. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a salaryman. I work in the same office as [Y/N].” Was Nanami’s response. You cringed at your father’s attempt to talk more familiarly with Nanami. It felt odd, it felt rigid, and you just knew what question would follow.
“Ah, I see. Well, I sure do hope you’re at least winning more than our [Y/N] here!” The older man blurted, shaking his head in disappointment. “We told her to focus on her studies, make sure she has a nice paying job by the time she finds a husband, but she instead decided to pursue those… hobbies of her, and ended up with a mediocre office job.” Then, as if his rude observation meant nothing, he added, “No offense. I’m sure you’re a hard-working young man, you should aim higher and consider a career in a more lucrative field. Have you tried investing, or finances? If you want to provide a better future for my daughter, you should be prepared.”
Great, now not only was he making rude comments towards you, but he was also making rude comments towards your “boyfriend”. When would this end?
“Dad.” You cut in, scowling at him. How dare he ask such questions?
“What?” He asked, shrugging. As if these types of discussions were as casual as small talk or mentions of weathers. “I need to make sure that this man will provide for you. After all, you refused to go and do something useful with your life – “
“I think what [Y/N] has done of her life is for her, and only her to decide.” Nanami chimed in. “And as her parents, you should be nothing but supportive. It’s not up to you to decide what’s useful or not.” Your cheeks warmed at that. He sounded so clear and straightforward. He managed to do, within minutes, what you had been too afraid to do your whole life.
Your father seemed to dismiss what Nanami had said, waving his hand about and muttering some incomprehensible gibberish.
While your mother fetched the main plate, the room was filled with light chatter. Nanami leaned towards you, lips softly brushing the shell of your ear. It made your heart leap to have him so close.
“You’re right. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the whole dinner without throwing a plate at any of their faces.” He mumbled, hand still squeezing yours tightly. This small comment earned a chuckle from you, and Nanami smiled at the response. To anyone else watching, you two looked like a lovesick couple engaging in some light banter and gossip.
“Ah! Here it is!” Your mother gleamed, bringing in pots and pans full of curry rice, udon noodles, miso soup, and some other side dishes you couldn’t see. For all you disliked your family, you couldn’t lie – family gatherings had the best food. You had once tried to learn how to cook from your mother, but after two failed commands (in her opinion) and a whole lot of yelling, you gave up.
“You should try the curry,” you told Nanami, holding your plate securely to pour some of the food on it. “She might be a witch sometimes, but her curry is to die for.” This last part was only but a whisper, and it got Nanami to smile crookedly.
God, you loved to see him smile.
At the office he always looked so serious, so tense. Nanami hated working overtime, and no matter how nice the company you kept each other ways, you could still see the exhaustion taking over him most days, rendering him cold and distant.
Here, though?
He seemed relaxed to a fault. As relaxed as he could be in a situation like this.
“Honey!” There was your mother again. Great, you were starting to miss her unnecessary statements! “Are you seriously going to eat all of that?” She inquired, looking particularly scandalised and attempting to reach your plate.
“Yes, I am. Why? Is there a problem?” You tried to sound brave, but Nanami was quick to notice the shake in your voice and the way your hand trembled in his.
“Oh, well, honey, I just think you should be careful! Don’t wanna put on any weight, do you? I’m sure Kento here wouldn’t want you to gain some extra pounds.”
Ah, this woman clearly made a mistake.
Nanami cleared his throat and made a poor attempt at trying to conceal the anger in his voice.
“I assure you ma’am, that is the least of my concerns.” He asserted and removed your plate from the woman’s hands. “Your daughter looks amazing, and if she’s happy with herself, so am I. In fact, I think she looks particularly breathtaking this evening, don’t you? You must be so proud.”
He’d pushed your parents into a corner, and all they could do was stammer and babble and look around for any help from their relatives – help that did not come.
“I’m quite the lucky man.” Nanami gave your parents the same kind of pretentious, fake smile they gave to him, and dug into his food.
And what else could you do but smile? Mouthing a quick “thank you”, you decided to get to eating as well. Seeing your parents so flustered had given you a kind of confidence you hadn’t felt in years, not in front of them, and it felt good.
For a few godly minutes, everything seemed to go well.
You were enjoying your food, and Nanami was exchanging pleasantries with some of your cousins. It seemed almost normal, the way it was going. Your cousin Ichigo and his wife, who were both ten years older than you were particularly interested in discussing the best kinds of liquors with your friend. Hiroshi tried to rope him into a talk of cars, and Makoto expressed his hatred towards overtime.
It felt too good to be true.
Probably because it was.
After dinner, you were the first to get on your feet to help clear the table. The quicker you did it, the quicker you could get the hell out of that place.
You were loading the dishwasher, distracted by the background noise of the chatter and the news that played in the television, when your cousin Emiko approached. Emiko was her parents’ pride and joy. Unnaturally beautiful, she had no real talent other than looking pretty and finding a rich man. It didn’t matter – the family loved her for it, and you’d spent your whole entire life being compared to her.
“So! ‘Cus, do tell us, how much did you pay for him?” She asked coyly. There was something poisonous laced in her words. You supposed it was jealousy – despite being seated near her husband, Emiko had spent the entire evening studying Nanami, running her eyes through his broad shoulders and sharp cheekbones, no doubt drooling.
You sighed. There was never much you could do about Emiko. You either ignored her words or played into her traps, and both options tested your patience gravely.
“I did not pay him, Emiko. Nanami and I have been dating for a while now.” You replied casually. Somehow, you could still feel tingles where his hand had previously been. On your hand, on your waist. The memory of his lips against your ear elicited a full-body shiver from you. “And I’ll remind you that he’s just next door, so please be considerate.”
“Come on, no one else’s in here, you don’t have to pretend.” Emiko peeked at you. When she saw no visible reaction, she sighed, waving her hand around dismissively and rolling her eyes at you before turning to face the kitchen door. “Come on, lighten up. It was a joke. But you have to understand – you were never something to look at, were you?” She snickered, taking a big gulp of her wine right after. “How’d you manage to snatch up a guy like this?”
You were done.
This comment had been the final straw.
You knew Emiko to be mean, but this? Assuming you had to pay for a handsome man’s company, simply because she didn’t deem you as attractive? As interesting?
Were you simply not worthy of love?
You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, but before you could try to come up with a reply, a familiar voice interrupted you.
“Actually, it was I who managed to snatch her up.” Nanami was standing by the doorframe, casting you the warmest, most lovely, most caring gaze ever. You felt warm to be looked like that, like you were the most precious thing in the world to this man. “I got lucky. When we first started dating, I wondered how the hell such an interesting, beautiful woman would ever look at me.” A small chuckle. “I still do – I don’t feel like I’m worthy of her.”
Emiko was speechless. She just stared from you to Nanami, from Nanami to you, her words somehow losing their power after this confession.
You looked at Nanami and quickly wiped away the tear that threatened to spill. Seeing this, he walked over to you, pulling you closer by the waist.
“I think you’re wrong, Emiko.” He continued, not even sparing her a second glance as his hand lifted your chin up with the gentleness of someone who holds the entire world in their hands. “Not something to look at? I mean… Look at her. How could I ever be deserving of such a beautiful woman?”
You felt heat radiate from his body, and as if it was second nature, you cupped his jaw with your hands. He was so close, so impossibly close. You could make out every single one of his eyelashes, the bags under his eyes caused by sleepless nights working, the eyebrows that were usually furrowed and deep in thought – Nanami Kento was beautiful.
And according to him, so were you.
He searched in your eyes for any kind of signal. A yes, a no. A simply gesture that could change the rest of your night (and perhaps the course of your, well, relationship forever).
It was almost imperceptible when you nodded, meeting his gaze through lidded eyes.
So he dipped his head, and softly caught his lips with yours.
You’d fantasized about this once or twice. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the real deal. Nanami was a good kisser. His lips moved effortlessly around yours, molding like he had been kissing you for years. The hand at your waist brought you close, close, impossibly close, so close that you couldn’t think of getting away – good. Nanami didn’t want you to ever leave his side.
And you kissed him back just as tenderly, afraid to ruin the moment. Your tongue swiped shyly across his bottom lip, and he gave you one of his signature smiles – reserved, contained, but 100% him.
Behind him, he could hear Emiko scoff and leave the kitchen. Perfect. He didn’t want a crowd anyways.
After pulling away for air, Nanami studied your face attentively.
Your eyes were wide and bright, sparkling with what seemed like magic. He wanted to kiss every inch of your face – your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He wanted to kiss your soft, plush lips again and again and again. Thank God you’d invited him to be your fake boyfriend. Nanami had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask you out, and while this wasn’t the most conventional date, he was known for being efficient and straightforward.
“Let’s get out of here. You deserve to be kissed somewhere else.” He mumbled in that raspy voice of his that did things to you. You nodded and held his hand as he led you through the corridors.
The goodbyes were ushered, and the promises to call and come back soon were very blatantly fake. Your parents, however charmed by this man at first glance, refused to hide their scowls at this point. They did not like being contradicted. Neither did your cousins – or rather, the ones that had giggled and whispered and made smaller comments at the beginning like “Wow [Y/N], such a miracle, you finally found someone!” and “Oh, Nanami-san, when you get tired of her, please do call us – we’ll be waiting! What? It was a joke, don’t be such a downer!”.
The ride home had been quiet. Peaceful.
You refused to let Nanami go, and he refused to let you go, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain when he placed his big palm on top of your thigh as he drove.
Then, as you arrived to your place, he walked you to the door, silently holding onto your hand.
You gazed up at him, and then at the floor.
“So…” Why were words so hard?
You wanted to ask him a million questions. Why had he kissed you? Had he liked it? Did it mean something to him? Was it just a distraction? Is your friendship ruined?
“I hope you know it is not true.”
“Huh?” You met his eyes.
“Everything they said.” Nanami refused to let go of your hand, drawing slow circles with his thumb. “It’s not true. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful, and smart, and talented, and kind, and so many other things that I want to say but can’t find the words to.” He’d never been good with his words. But you thought he was doing a pretty good job.
Then, he shook his head, running a hand through his now slightly ruffled hair. “I wish I was better at this. My point is – you’re remarkable, [Y/N]. The way you care for others, the way you’re so unapologetically you, the way you’re not afraid to speak your mind and be heard. Those are all admirable qualities. If your family can’t see that, then it’s their fault.”
You could just stare at him in awe.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out. On a date, an actual date. Not just some simple last-minute overtime office dinner. A proper date, just you and me.”
A date? With him?
“You can say no if you want to. I won’t force you. But I’d like to take you out for dinner. Or lunch. Or anything you want, basically, I –“ He sighed once again. “Point is. I really like you, [Y/N]. I know, I know, we don’t know each other that well, and I don’t expect you to return my feelings, but –“
“I really like you too.” You blurted out without thinking. So, all of this time, your feelings hadn’t been one sided? He too felt the same as you? All those nights at the office, all those small interactions, making the workplace an easier place to deal with, all of the jokes and giggles and antics – he cherished them too? “And I… I’d love to go out for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever you want, really! The point is,” You gather yourself, smiling like a fool. “I’d really love to go on a date with you.”
In that exact same moment, while you and Nanami smiled at each other like two shy teenagers, the only witness to your awkward confessions being the moon and the lights from the city above you, you didn’t think of yourself as unworthy, as dumb, and useless and a no-good child. The hurtful comments made by your family were far, far away, like they’d happened a lifetime ago.
You saw yourself the way he did. Remarkable. Kind, talented, beautiful, and oh so worthy of love.
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A/N: That's it! I hope you liked it! I love this man so much hehe he deserves all the fics! Thank you for the lovely request, I'm so glad I got to finally start writing for Nanami instead of simply reading!
Have an amazing day everyone! <3
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junkissed · 9 months
Text
happy ending
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member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)
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you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t. 
after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.
you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.
what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?
you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.
with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.
maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.
what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.
from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.
you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.
but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood. 
you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.
but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.
you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.
“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”
“yeah,” he answers shortly.
“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”
“not hungry.”
“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”
he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”
you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.
it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.
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an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.
you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”
“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.
“i— excuse me?”
“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.
you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”
he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”
you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”
“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”
his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.
he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”
you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”
“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”
“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”
he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”
you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”
he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”
and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.
you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?
jun has never just… walked out like that.
his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.
say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?
minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.
there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?
so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?
despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?
it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.
will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.
the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.
after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.
you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.
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it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.
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you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.
tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.
you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message. 
instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.
as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui. 
and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.
you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with. 
he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 
you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since. 
every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.
when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.
and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.
it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.
“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.
“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”
“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”
you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.
you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.
it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.
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across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.
why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.
not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.
jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.
he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.
he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.
“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”
with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.
in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.
he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again. 
he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.
he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.
with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.
he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.
the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.
but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.
he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.
he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal? 
a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.
he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—
his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue. 
gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.
this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?
he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.
he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.
there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.
immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.
he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either. 
that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.
he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.
“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.
“is she there?” he asks anxiously.
“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”
“wait,” jun adds quickly.
the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”
"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—
“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.
jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”
he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”
you don’t reply, so he continues.
“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”
“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.
“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.
“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”
“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”
you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"
“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”
you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”
“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.
“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.
“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”
“i will.”
he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.
"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.
"of course. let me know when you're ready."
half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.
reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.
seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.
"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."
"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."
he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."
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the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.
you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."
you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.
"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.
you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.
"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod. 
he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."
"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.
he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.
after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."
"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."
you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"
jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."
"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.
now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."
you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.
he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath. 
"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."
"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.
he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."
you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.
"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.
"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.
"you're pregnant?"
you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."
he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.
"well, i was, last night."
"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"
you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."
he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."
"i said it's fine, jun."
"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."
"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."
"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes. 
you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."
"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.
"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."
"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"
"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."
"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."
you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head. 
after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."
before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."
"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."
"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."
you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.
"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.
from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.
"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands. 
"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."
you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."
he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."
"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."
he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"
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wavyinterludee · 8 months
Text
mechanic!abby proposing ˚๑ˎ˚。⋆
a/n: me 🤝 writing cooking as a love language
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It was something she had been planning for months now. In honesty, Abby knew she was going to marry you very early on in the relationship but decided to be patient in fear of scaring you off. If only she knew how fast you knew you wanted to be with her forever.
She had racked her brain to the point of a headache; trying to think of the best place and way to pop the big question. She strongly considered taking you to a very nice restaurant, making a big occasion out of it, but ultimately decided to go with a homemade dinner with all your favorite food instead. She knew you'd appreciate the more intimate atmosphere as opposed to a big public spectacle. Plus, she wasn't made of money and had already spent a good amount on your ring.
Your ring; who knew such a small black box could cause such a disastrous amount of anxiety. She did her best to hide it from you, but every time she'd leave it somewhere, her mind would practically torture her with thoughts that you'd find it. So eventually, out of fear that you'd really find the ring, she decided to keep it on her most of the time.
The night of, you arrived at home earlier than usual, per your girlfriend's request. When you asked her what the occasion was, she simply told you that it was "a suprise."
The apartment smelled amazing, and the tension in your shoulders dissipated with every step you took closer to the kitchen. Abby truly was a sight for sore eyes; her broad back facing you with her long braid swinging with every movement she made as she stirred at the pot infront of her. The apron was tied tightly around her waist—in a knot you knew she was gonna ask you to help untie later.
Sensing your eyes on her, she turned around with a smile, causing a similar one to spread across your face. "Hi, sweetheart," she said softly, abandoning the pot to embrace you in a warm hug, pulling back far too soon for your liking. She placed a kiss on your cheek, her hands absent-mindedly rubbing along your arms. "I missed you," she said breathlessly. "You saw me this morning," you laughed, your arms wrapping around her waist. "Yeah, and a whole day has passed. It was torture," she said, squeezing lighty at your arms, before placing a few more stray kisses across your face. She only pulled away once she heard you laugh at her actions, content when she saw how flustered you were with her unabashed affection.
"I'm gonna go wash up then I'm helping you," you said softly, reluctantly pulling yourself from Abby's embrace and making your way to the bathroom. It was almost funny how Abby's heart clenched when you pulled away from her. She never knew you could miss someone a room away; her heart physically ached when she wasn't close to you.
In no time, dinner was ready with your help. Abby didn't consider herself some award winning cook, but she definitely knew her place around a kitchen. It was always a very pleasant (and delicious) suprise when she cooked for the two of you.
"What was the occasion, Abs? Did a forget an anniversary or something?" you joked, fork enthusiastically digging into your food. It was your favorite; as everything that she had prepared, from the dishes to the wine and even the suprise dessert. It warmed your heart that she knew you like the back of her hand by now.
"No occasion," she said, concentrating on cutting into her food to avoid eye contact. She knew that one look from you would be enough for you to see that she was lying. "Can't I just spoil my girlfriend?" she added. "You always spoil me, though," you said with a small pout. "I like spoiling you," she countered with a droopy smile that never seemed to leave her face when she was with you.
After dinner, Abby surprised you with dessert which you digged into gratefully. She had your hand in hers, softly rubbing over your knuckles as she listened to you talk about your day. She could listen to you for hours, your voice like her favorite song that she could never grow tired of. She'd gladly listen to it for the rest of her life; in the morning when it had a little rasp to it or when you got excited and it shrieked happily. Hell, she'd listen to you when you were angry and screaming at her, too.
For a small while, she had forgotten about the actual purpose of the dinner until she shuffled in her seat and felt the small box prodding at her through the pocket of her pants. The anxiety started to wash over her in waves once again because suddenly she was very unsure if this was even the right choice, if you even wanted to get married right now.
She hadn't even noticed the way her hand was nervously squeezing at yours by now. You definitely noticed, as well as the faraway look in her eyes, eyebrows pinched together in concentration, and lips pursed lightly.
"Hey," you said softly, giving her hand a small squeeze. When she finally looked at you, you gave her a smile. "You okay?" you asked. She gulped nervously before sitting up straighter in her chair. The hand that wasn't holding onto yours was nervously gripping at her thigh underneath the tablecloth. "I'm okay I just— I've been meaning to tell you something," she said softly.
You frowned at her nervous demeanor. Obviously, something was wrong. "You're kinda scaring me now," you joked with a light laugh, growing more and more concerned. She spared you a light laugh before clearing her throat. "No, nothing's, nothing's wrong. I just wanna tell you something, but you gotta let me finish, okay?" she said. You gave her a nod before she continued.
"Sweetheart, you are the most amazing woman I've ever had the privilege of meeting," she started. It felt like a ball forming in the pit of your stomach at her words; was she breaking up with you or something?
"You're so kind and funny. And so sweet to me," she continued. By now, you were the one squeezing at her hand nervously. "Abby..." you said softly. "Lemme finish," she said with a smile, and you scoffed playfully, allowing her to continue. "I love you. So so much. And I can't always give you everything you deserve, but I can try. I wanna try and give you everything you ever deserve because you deserve the world."
You were pretty sure you were crushing your poor girlfriend's hand by now. Once you loosened up, she pulled both her hands onto her lap before digging in her pocket and pulling out the small black box. God, you were practically sobbing by now. "If you let me, I'd like to try and give you the world, so," the small box was opened to reveal the ring; the prettiest pink quartz cut perfectly into a small heart, shining proudly underneath the crappy yellow light of your kitchen.
"Will you marry me, sweetheart?"
For a few agonizingly slow moments all you could do was stare at the small black box dumbly. You couldn't even see the ring by now, eyes blurred and weighted by unshed tears and cheeks already stained by those that have fallen. "Please say something," Abby whispered nervously. You nodded so quickly you almost got whiplash. "Yeah?" she asked breathlessly. "Yeah, yes. Yes!" She quickly took the ring, placing it on your ring finger with a toothy smile that matched yours, albeit a bit less teary that yours. Once it was on your finger you stood up from your chair. Abby did the same, and you jumped into her arms with such a force that she almost crashed into the nearby kitchen cupboards.
"I love you so much. I love you, Abby," you muttered into the crook of her neck. "I love you too, so much," she laughed. You pulled back from her neck, arms still wrapped around her neck as you took in her features. Your absolutely beautiful girlfriend, fiancée now and soon-to-be wife. You couldn't help yourself anymore, and kissed her with a passion that practically had her breathless by the time you were pulling away. It was a bit messy, filled with emotion but still so perfect. Everything with Abby always felt so perfect.
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months
Text
That's What I Love About You
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You knew Travis like the back of your hand. He was adorably predictable, and he told you everything, so it was very difficult for Travis to hide something from you.
“Y/N, from the moment we met, we knew that we were meant to be together. We have tackled so many things together and only gotten stronger in the process. We’ve shared so many incredible moments together, from our first date to our most recent adventure and while we may sometimes scramble, we always end up picking it right where we left off and getting to the end. Every moment we spend together is a treasure to me, and I can’t wait to make even more memories with you. You are my partner in every sense of the word, and I can’t wait to blitz life with you. I’m so grateful for all the adventures we’ve had and all the ones to come. Will you marry me?”
"Are you asking her to marry you or be your offensive coordinator?" Jason had to stifle a laugh as he listened to his brother run through his proposal speech. "What the hell are you talking about?" Travis scrunched his eyebrows together as folded up the paper he had scribbled down his words on, throwing it on the desk. "Tackle, scramble, blitz? You stole that right out of the KC playbook, c'mon man."
"I know football. I don't know how to write a proposal speech. Besides she won't care about that once she sees the ring I picked out for her." Travis flipped the ring box open with his finger, the four-carat diamond glistening in the sunlight coming through his office window. "I've been carrying it around all week since I picked it up on Monday. It's been burning a hole in my pocket."
"Why the hell are you keeping the ring with you?" Travis shifted his phone to his left shoulder, cradling it under his ear. "You're gonna lose it."
"Why do you have zero faith in me?" Travis scoffed at his brother on the other line. "I'm not going to lose something this important to me."
"Do I have to remind you of when you lost that truck in high school?" Jason was still easily angered by the memories.
"I didn't lose the truck. I lost the keys that someone found and used to steal the truck. Two completely different scenarios." Travis rolled the velvet box in his fingers, stroking his thumb over the lid. "Besides, I only need to hide it for a few more hours. I've made it this far, what's the worst that could happen?" He locked the box in top drawer of his desk, placing the key in his pocket, patting it for good luck.
Travis had planned on proposing to you months ago, but it always seemed like the timing was never right. With the season about to start, he felt like he was running out of chances, and he didn't want to go another season without fully committing to you. He wanted to be with you for the rest of his life and this was the first step to forever. Even though he was very nervous, he planned to do it tonight.
He spotted you walking toward him as he was leaving his office. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be meeting your mom to go shopping today?" He had recruited your mom to help you go shopping for an outfit for dinner tonight, as well as taking you to get your hair and nails done under the guise that you and Travis were going to a Chiefs benefit dinner tonight. It was literally killing Travis that he had to keep something from you, his stomach had been hurting all week.
"She’ll be here in about 30 minutes, I just needed grab my computer out of your office really quick." You reached for the doorknob, Travis blocking your way with his large body. "What are you doing?" You raised your eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t think it’s in there. I remember seeing it upstairs in the bedroom.” He leaned against the door handle, his gaze motioning upstairs, trying to distract you. “Travis, you’re being weird. I was in your office last night, I know it’s in there.” Just as he was about to cave in, your phone buzzed in your back pocket. “My mom is 30 minutes early.” You scrolled through your messages, replying that you would be out in a minute.
“You don’t want to keep her waiting.” Travis gave you a small smile, ushering you to the front door. “You’re being really weird. I’m gonna figure out what you’re up to.” You narrowed your eyes at him as you grabbed your purse and keys heading out the door.
****
“Something wrong, hun?” Your mom looked over at you from the driver seat, noticing you picking at the skin around your thumb nail. “Something’s going on with Travis.” Your mom quickly refocused on the road; she didn’t want to ruin Travis’ surprise for you, but she hated keeping secrets from you as well. “I’m sure he’s just nervous about the season starting again.”
“Maybe. But when I tried to go in his office this morning, he was being weird like he was hiding something. Do you think he could be cheating?”
Your mom shook her head fervently. “Honey, Travis loves you so much, he worships the ground you walk on. Trust me, there is no way that he’s cheating on you.”
“You’re right, I’m probably overthinking things.” You wanted to believe her, but the nagging feeling that something was wrong never left you.
You and your mom spent the next couple of hours shopping for a gown for the event, getting your hair and nails done and grabbing lunch before you headed back home. Travis’ car was gone when you arrived, more than likely headed to the practice facility for a meeting. You passed by Travis’ office heading to your bedroom, your earlier encounter making you stop in your tracks. You opened the door, standing in the threshold. Everything seemed to be in place, Travis was a bit messy but there was order to his clutter.
You walked over to his desk, grazing your fingers over the wood. “What could he possibly be hiding?” you said to yourself. You began searching the room frantically, pulling open drawers and looking under books, coming up empty. For some reason you were drawn to Travis’ desk, a large wooden piece he had inherited from his grandparents. You rifled through the drawers nothing but paperwork and notepads inside. Your pulled at the top drawer, groaning when it resisted.
Travis never usually locked any of his desk drawers, which immediately piqued your interest. You pulled a couple of times at the drawer again, unsuccessful. “Hon, where do you keep your milk. I want to put on a pot of coffee.” Your mom walked through the open office door, catching you in the act. “Are we snooping?” You chuckled, realizing where you got your inquisitive nature from. “No, we’re not “snooping” just making sure nothing is wrong.”
“Why do you think Travis is hiding something? Besides today, has he ever given you a reason to doubt him?” Your stomach dropped, knowing your mom was right. Travis was the most loving, understanding, and kind boyfriend you had ever had, and he never did anything to make you question your relationship. “No, you’re right.” But you also knew you’d never sleep again until you found out what was going on, the guilt leaving you as the drawer popped open. You spotted it immediately, the small velvet box tucked away in the corner. “Y/N, I really don’t think you should do this.”
“Travis is going to propose?” You hesitated, your fingertips grazing the lid. Sure, you had talked about getting married, but you had only spoken about it happening in the far future. You were more than ready, but Travis had always seemed hesitant. “I can’t believe this.” You looked back at your mom who was frozen in her spot. “Did you know anything about this?” Travis was traditional, he would definitely ask your parents for their blessing. “No, honestly, I had no idea.” The ring box burned in your hand as you debated whether or not to open it. You barely had time to consider the negatives before you subconsciously flipped the top open. Your face dropped when you saw two diamond earrings, a beautiful set, but definitely not an engagement ring.
“Are you disappointed?” Your mom walked up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “A little.” You could feel yourself start to tear up, embarrassed that you had gotten yourself so excited in the moment. “A lot actually.” You dropped the box back into the drawer, pushing it closed.
****
The ride to the event was noticeably quiet, Travis watching you from the corner of your eye. “You look beautiful, baby.” He placed a hand on your thigh, grazing against the silk fabric of your skirt. “Thank you.” Your tone was flat, your face deadpan as you focused on the scenery out the window. “Is something wrong?”
You composed yourself, sitting up straight in your seat. You didn’t want to let on that you were upset or that you had snooped around Travis’ office without him knowing. “No, just tired.”
“Well, this event should only be a couple of hours and then we can leave if you want.” You nodded, patting Travis’ hand that was still rested on your thigh. “Sounds good.”
The event was a black-tie fundraiser for the city, an opportunity for the football players to brush shoulders with major donors and get them to pull out their checkbooks. You had been to quite a few events as Travis’ date, and for the most part they were pretty monotonous; dinner and drinks, conversation with the other wives and girlfriends, before you were headed home a little tipsy on the glasses of champagne. You spotted Isabelle at your table, happy to see a familiar face. You were still the girlfriend, the bottom of the WAG totem pole, but Isabelle had been nice to you from the beginning, and you considered her a genuine friend. “Hi!” She gave you a tight hug, pulling away from you, her hands resting on your upper arms. “So, let me see it!”
“See what?” You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion. “Your dress of course! Give me a twirl.” She laughed uncomfortably, looking at Travis who was avoiding eye contact with the group. You brushed off the weird interaction, too consumed with your own disappointment at the moment. “C’mon, let’s sit down, it’s time for dinner.” She dragged you by the forearm to the far end of the table, Travis taking a seat next to you.
The party was over pretty quickly, and while you originally thought that it would take your mind of it, you were only left to stew in how you were feeling. Travis noticed that something was off with you; as well as you knew him, he knew everything about you. “What’s going on with you?” He stopped you as you tried to open the passenger door.  You took a deep breath, letting out a sigh as you looked up at him. “I found the box.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “What box?”
“The box in your desk drawer, Trav!” You would deal with the repercussions of going through his things later. “Did you dig through my desk?”
“You were being weird this morning, and it was really bugging me. I thought you were cheating on me or something.”
“What?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Why would you possibly think that?”
“I don’t know! You’ve been acting strange lately. Spending a lot of time in your office, and when you’re not in there you’re gone way more than usual during the day. I know you like the back of my hand, and lately I feel like you I don’t know you at all anymore. I know it sounds stupid, but when I saw the box I thought maybe it was an engagement ring, and you were going to propose. God, I wish I had never looked and found those earrings.” You wiped your nose, tears starting to gather in the corner of your eyes.
“I don’t understand why you went through my things, though. We don’t do that to each other. I thought you trusted me.” Travis backed away from you, his features displaying hurt. “I do trust you. I don’t know, this is just me being crazy. I’m very sorry.” You watched Travis walk over to the driver’s side, sliding into his seat. He turned the engine as you got in.
“Travis, please talk to me. Say you forgive me.” You looked at him, his eyes focused on the road. He was silent as he gripped the wheel tightly, the leather squeaking underneath his hold. “I just need some time, ok.” You sunk into your seat, your disappointment from earlier replaced by pangs of guilt. You noticed as Travis turned into the parking lot of Arrowhead stadium, flashing his badge at the security guard, and driving underneath the stadium. He pulled into a space in the player’s lot, turning off the car. “I have to get something out of the locker room. I’ll be right back.”  You watched him walk inside, taking of his suit jacket and slinging it over his arm.
Five minutes turned into 10 minutes, and before you knew it you had been waiting on Travis for about 15 minutes, much longer than it should have taken him to go and come back from the locker room. Concerned that something had happened, you entered the building. The hallways were dark, the only sound the clicking of your heels against the concrete floor. You reached the locker room that was pitch dark, no one in sight. You could see a light shining out of the corner of your eye coming from the tunnel that led to the football field. “Travis, where are you?” Your voice echoed as you got closer to the source of light.
You rounded the corner, your mouth falling open as you saw a runway lined with candles, a red carpet leading to the middle of the field where Travis was standing, surrounded by floral arrangements of red roses in a semi-circle around him. “Will You Marry Me” was projected on the big screen, your family and friends seated in the stands. The walk to him felt like it took forever, tears starting to stream down your face before you even reached him.
“How the hell did you manage to pull this off?” Travis chuckled, pulling you in for a kiss, his hands on your lower back. You stroked his beard as you parted, a genuine smile on your face. “Trust me, the surprise has almost been ruined so many times, and when you were suspicious of me this morning, I had to do a quick switch of the ring box for something else because I knew you’d be curious.”
“Am I that predictable?” You laughed, stroking his bicep. “You have no idea. That’s why I love you, though. Now, let me get through this before I back out due to nerves.” You covered your mouth as Travis got down on one knee, looking up at you.
“There are so many things I love about you that I don’t even know where to begin. I love your kind heart and the way you always put others before yourself. Your intelligence and your unwavering passion for the people that you love. I love how much you know me, and how hard it is to keep secrets from you because I want to tell you everything. I love your sense of humor and how you always know how to make me laugh. I love the way you look at me, and how you make me feel like I’m the most important person in the world. Most of all, I love the person you are and the way you make my heart feel. You are my everything, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you. Will you marry me?”
There it was, the ring you thought you were going to find earlier, finally right in front of you. Travis searched your face, his heart beating out of his chest. “Say something, babe.” Your family and friends were waiting with bated breath, the anticipation killing everyone in the room.
“Is it too late to switch it out for a different ring?”, you whispered, watching Travis’ face drop.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, baby! I love it. Yes, a thousand times yes, I will marry you!” You helped him to stand, taking his face in your hands, your lips crashing into a passionate kiss.
“Hell yeah!” You could hear Jason yell from the stands, the rest of the family erupting in cheers.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack, baby?” Travis asked as you broke.
“I don’t always want to be predictable, what’s the fun in that?”
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534 notes · View notes
marleyybluu · 1 year
Text
Oscar x pregnant!reader
Wc: 1.9k
warnings: daddy issues, use of OMB scenes so spoilers I guess, sad Spooky, shitty ending cus my attention span cut out
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"No, no, no! You can not put down two draw fours!" Yn shouted at Cesar while the two dabbled in an intense game of UNO. Cesar chuckled waving his one card in her face. "You're just mad because you're losing." He bragged. Though it was confirmed she would never admit it, she quickly pouted and placed her hand on her stomach, he chuckled shaking his head knowing the card that she was about to play. "I'm gonna tell your niece or nephew you didn't let their mommy win."
Her boyfriend Spooky could be heard letting out a bellyful laugh from down the hall, he emerged from his room making his way toward them where they sat around the table not too far from the living room. "Mamita, you can't say that every time you don't get your way." She stuck out her tongue. "I can and I will for the remaining six months."
He rolled his eyes and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Fine," She reluctantly picked up eight more cards just for Cesar to dramatically slam his last one on the table. He stood up took the last swig of his beer and rested the empty bottle on the table, he was next to kiss her head before grabbing his things and heading out. "I'll see you guys later, I'm with Monse if you need me."
"Have fun." She called out. The door closed and the house was once again silent, Yn gathered the cards and packed them nicely back into the box they came in. She heard the sound of the front door opening and assumed it was Cesar, she said "What'd you forget knucklehead?" But frowned when she was met with their father, Ray. A few days ago the older gentleman had found himself across from the traphouse, Cesar panicked about a stranger just stalking outside so Spooky went to investigate, and with Yn's nosey ass at the window, she noticed Spooky's body language and he was not happy.
Spooky never spoke about his dad, maybe once, but that was it. She could tell he had resentment in his heart for that man, he was a stranger and for him to pop back up after all these years wasn't ideal for anyone in this situation. YN had to admit it was nice seeing Cesar happy and hearing him talk about all the things they were going to do and how much they had to catch up on but judging by the look on Ray's face right in front of her... those plans would never set in motion.
She pitied him a half-smile before dodging into the kitchen. Spooky sat in the background on the couch observing the cold interaction, internally smiling that she would be on his side no matter the minor details that she knew. Ray disappeared into one of the rooms, Spooky was curious as to what he was there for but was brought out of it when he was called to the kitchen. He got up and followed her voice, she was desperately trying to reach the third shelf and was failing miserably, usually, she'd grab a chair but with a baby inside she was more cautious of what she did.
"Can you grab a plate for me papito?"
"Of course, baby."
She squealed and applauded the small gesture as he handed the plate over to her. "Thank you." She blew him a kiss but he wanted a real one, his hand snaking around her waist he pulled her in tightly. Her hands ran up his neck and landed under his jawline. Their lips touched, fitting like pieces of a puzzle, melting together like it was the first time. She could feel his hands slide a little further down, she gasped at the hard squeeze he delivered she pulled back smacking his chest. "Why can't I have one little innocent kiss?"
"That question is what got you pregnant in the first place." He joked gently pressing his hand on her little belly. Yn shooed him off. Oscar laughed and left her alone only to return to the main area and see Ray with his duffle bag on top of the table packing his clothes up. "Finally cleaning up your mess?" He asked. Ever since he arrived it'd practically become a pigsty, his girl often complaining that she wasn't some maid for a grown-ass man, especially one she had no relation to. Ray avoided eye contact as he answered. "I'm leaving, think I've caused enough drama."
Leaving. All he did was leave, run away from his problems, and scram when things got serious. It wasn't the first time Oscar experienced it but there was no doubt that it still hurt, he felt himself shrink into that little kid again, watching the man who was supposed to be there for him vanish, the man who was supposed to teach him how to become one disappear without a trace leaving him and Cesar alone to fend for themselves.
"Good," He responded. "You tell Cesar your plan?"
There was a moment of silence, Ray had stopped packing and sighed making eye contact with his oldest. "I'll tell him when I get to Bakersfield, there's a guy up there who can help me out... help you out too-"
Spooky had turned cold, that scowl plastered on his face, the boiling hate flashing in his eyes. "I don't need help, I got everything I need."
Ray let out an amused chuckle. "The Santos? That girl?" Oscar took a step forward, fists balled up, father or not he would put down anyone that disrespected his girl. She was his home, his family, she was everything that he needed. "Her name is Yn, and she let you stay with us, not me... if it were up to me you'd be out on the street with the rest of the stray dogs."
Little did they know they had an audience for this performance, not too far off Yn had poked her head from the kitchen she had stopped what she was doing the minute she heard their voices. "I hope they don't sell you out, I hope she's good to you because one day all that love you think you're getting from them is gonna be gone."
"Ray." He warned. "This street shit isn't the life man, you don't have to stay here, go and make something of yourself."
Oscar's eyes softened, and he began to nod in agreement. "Thanks, Papa, you're right. I could be president or a fucking astronaut, maybe even a movie star right? Because I had such a great fucking role model!"
"I had a shitty dad too, mijo," Ray's tone was so nonchalant when he said it and something about it was making Yn's skin crawl it just sounded like he didn't care. "But you gotta let that rage go."
It took everything for her not toa put in her two cents. How do you let the rage from constant and consistent disappointment go? She could tell Spooky had this overbearing feeling that he was a failure, that he failed Cesar, failed the Santos and even failed her-- so how was he just supposed to let that go?
Yn had thought the fire between them had died down, that Ray had left and Spooky was just standing there disassociating at the fact that he was in his twenties and still being abandoned. But when she brought herself into frame the two of them had gone, their muffled argument had moved outdoors. Her feet carried her to the front door, where she stood behind the screen watching it go down from a distance.
"Everything bad that's ever happened in my life is because of you! You're gonna crush Cesar the same way you crushed me!" His voice weakened, almost cracking like he was fighting to keep that little boy inside. Ray was already at the end of the path, one foot almost on the black tarmac road, he dropped his bag and turned around to face Spooky. "You never wrote to me... you didn't call, you didn't even visit not once! Did you even think about me?"
YN placed her hand over her heart, she wanted nothing more than to drag him inside and coddle him for all he's been through but he needed to let this out he'd been holding it in for far too long. She looked as Ray walked back toward Spooky.
"Oscar-" He began but Spooky shut it down. "You wanna know the worst part about not having a father? I had to be a father to my brother without having been a son first!" He sniffled. "I have a girl in there who loves me, who taught me how to love since I didn't have you or mama as examples... she's having my baby and I'm scared that I'm gonna end up like you!"
Oscar broke, completely shattered. Yn didn't think there'd be a day when she heard her partner weeping from the deep sadness that he felt, the sadness that was cloaked in anger. Ray didn't say anything, he pulled Oscar in for a hug and he resisted at first but once again his inner child betrayed him and he loosened a bit returning the embrace and they stayed like that for a while. Oscar buried his head in his father's shoulder, nothing was said, it was a bittersweet and brief moment before that rage entered his system again. That wall reappeared in seconds.
He wasn't little Oscar Diaz anymore he was back to Spooky who aggressively shoved his father off of him. "Take your shit and go, make sure I don't see you here again."
And just like that, he was gone again. Spooky turned around with a pout on his face, he stopped at the front door seeing Yn through the screen. "Did you eat?" Funny that even in his obvious time of need he was still worried about her. She shook her head, stretched out her hand to his and gently pulled him inside. Once the door closed the tears that he had just soaked back up were released once again. Yn pulled him over to the couch, sat him down and then took her place beside him.
He fell apart in her arms. "I fucking hate him." She rubbed his back. "All he does is fucking leave me... what did I do?"
"Ay! You didn't do anything papito, he's just an asshole."
"Am I not good enough?"
She frowned. "You are more than enough my love, I promise you. You are more than enough for me, for Cesar and for the baby. You did a great job raising him and you will do an even better one raising ours."
He lifted his head from where it rested on her shoulder, she swiped her thumb across his cheeks to wipe his tears. "How are you so sure?"
"You already do enough for the baby and they're not even here. You make sure I'm eating enough, you make sure I'm relaxed. I wish you could've seen your face when I told you." Now she was tearing up. "I couldn't have picked a better person to make a family with."
He softly smiled. "I love you."
"Duh." She sarcastically answered which received a decent chuckle. "I love you too, we're good okay? I'm not going anywhere."
"I know." He mumbled. She smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. "Let's eat, yeah?"
"Yeah."
I just felt like writing something kind of sad. idk why.
for the Pedro girlies im working on Truth or Drink3
for the Rio girlies, working on The Nanny 3
trying not to burn tf out lol just put me down at this point.
if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.
peace and love.
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peterman-spideyparker · 5 months
Text
Half-Wrong (College!Matt Murdock x college!fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Howdy folks, ya girl somehow caught Covid during the worst week possible! I have a 102 fever and I don't really remember writing this cuz I've been taking a lot of naps, so if it doesn't make sense and has errors I'm sorry. I saw that Owen Sleater gifset (iykyk) and rolled with it. Enjoy :)
Summary: You have been attracted to Matt Murdock ever since the pair of you met at the coffee shop on campus on move-in day, but you knew he'd never feel the same way about you - this became especially true once you got insight on his romantic life. So when you find him waiting for you after you come back from a date, you take a chance.
Warnings: Sweet platonic fluff, close friendship vibes, kissing, smut (oral - f!receiving, sexy oral m!condom put on, protected sex, p in v sex), swearing
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, ofc (Cassie)
Word Count: 2,844
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“C’mon, just a little more,” you huff as you move your run to a jog on the sidewalk. “A little bit more, and then we’ll be back at the dorms.”
“I don’t get why you think this is the best way to exercise,” Matt huffs as he puts his hands up in a T shape.
“You like boxing, I like a good run. Potato, potahto. The thing you should be thinking about is why you repeatedly agree and continue to go on runs with me,” you pant as you untie the tether that you use while you run—with Matt being unable to see and just how hard you imagine running with a cane would be, a tether to your waist to guide him and gently keep him out of the path of obstacles seemed like a good option.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve figured that part out yet, either. I mean, you do agree to box with me which is nice. But I think I just like spending time with you. Although, being tied with you does kind of make me feel like a dog.”
“Ah, but you’re such a kind, pretty dog with soft hair,” you smirk, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Such a good boy.”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, his cheeks flushing beyond the rosiness from the run. “Help me get to the cafe in the student union and I’ll buy us some waters.”
You press a kiss to his warm cheek and place his hand on your forearm. 
“Hey, are you still gonna join Foggy and I at Josie’s tonight?” he asks, his breathing sounding like it’s starting to return to normal as you both enter the nearby building.
“I thought that was tomorrow?” you return, navigating the pair of you through a small little self-serve concession area.
“No, tonight. You have plans?”
“Don’t sound too shocked.”
“I don’t mean it like that.”
“Okay. Then how did you mean it?”
“Well, just that you haven’t had plans in almost a year,” he exaggerates as he takes the waters you hand him.
“Excuse me, I have plans,” you say as you take the waters back and scan them, Matt rooting around in his shorts for his student ID.
“No, you have plans with your other friends semi-regularly. You never have date plans,” he clarifies as he swipes his ID to pay.
“I’m sorry all of us can’t be you with a new companion every few weeks.”
“I don’t have a ‘new companion’ every few weeks.”
“Oh, come on, Matt, don’t deny it,” you say as you drink your water. “Right now, it’s that girl from that IP law class, before that it was a dental student, then I think an international relations major? But let’s not forget about contract law girl, estate planning—.”
“Okay, fine, I’ve had a lot of short-term relationships.”
“Well, that’s great for you, but that’s not what I’m looking for,” you tell him. “I mean, I don’t expect anything right now to last forever, but, I don’t want it to be a four-week thing and then be done with it. If I’m gonna make plans with someone, it’s because I think I still might be making plans with them in five months.”
Matt nods and drinks some of his own water as you move back outside and in the direction of our dorms. “So, what’s this guy like? Where’d you meet?”
“Cassie actually set us up,” you say. “She said that he seemed like my type, like a really good guy.”
“Well, then, I’m happy you have plans tonight. I hope it goes well.”
“Thanks, Matt. I do, too. I mean, I have no reason to think they won’t. Just tell Foggy I’m sorry I’m gonna miss him tonight.”
“Of course.”
“Do I see a wild (Y/N) in one of her natural habitats?” you hear Foggy call from across the quad.
“Speak of the Nelson, and he shall appear!” you smile as he comes to wrap you in a hug. 
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“(Y/N) has a date tonight,” Matt says with a devilish grin.
“Matthew!” you say, giving him a swift whack. “This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m happy for you, really.”
“I am, too!” Foggy chimes in. “I’m bummed that it means you’ll miss drinks at Josie’s, but, it’s about time you get dicked down.”
“I need to hang out with more friends that are girls,” you sigh, taking a look at your watch. “I gotta go now if I want to take an everything shower.” Kissing each of their cheeks, you wave goodbye and run off to your dorm to get ready.
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“I just don’t see it going anywhere,” you sigh as you enter the main lobby of your dorm building.
“Really?” Cassie asks over the phone.
“We work on paper, but there wasn’t any spark.”
“Maybe the spark is gonna take some time.”
“A spark shouldn’t take time, Cass. It should be right there I didn’t feel anything.”
“You can’t pin every guy against Matt, you know.”
“I’m not comparing everyone against Matt,” you scoff incredulously. 
“Yes, you are. Ever since you met. I bet you felt a spark with him.”
“So what if I did? It’s clear he didn’t with me, but . . .” You sigh and shake the thought out of your head. “I’m not an option for him. He’s a good person, but more importantly, he’s my friend. I’m not gonna spend my time fantasizing about something that’s never gonna happen.”
“HA.”
“You are so mean.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just a funny concept—you, not fantasizing.”
“Rude.”
“I’m your oldest friend, it’s my job.”
“I appreciate it. Listen, I just got to my door, I’m gonna call it a night.”
“Okay, (Y/N). Sleep well.”
“You too.”
Hanging up, you sigh as you put your phone back into your bag, hiking the strap up over your shoulder, slipping out your keys and undoing the old locks. You toss your purse on the nearby table, but freeze in your tracks when you see someone sitting on your bed. Not any someone. Matt.
“You shouldn’t be in here this late,” you breathe.
“I shouldn’t be in here at all,” he says softly, folding his glasses and putting them on your nightstand. “But why do something half-wrong?”
You slowly start to close the gap between where he sits and where you stand. “Matt . . .”
“If you want me to go, I will. Just say the word.”
“. . . Why now?”
“I don’t know. I just . . . I realized tonight when I was at Josie’s with Foggy that if you’re going to be kissing anyone, I want it to be me.”
You don’t care what you just told Cassie. Honestly, you don’t care about anything or how this could complicate your friendship or any of the consequences. Instead, you move to your bed, climb into his lap, and kiss him. That spark you first felt with Matt when you met is a full-blown lightning bolt now, every last bit of you tingling with electricity; you know Matt feels it too from the way his hands slide up your back and how his fingers card through your hair. Matt leans back on the mattress, letting you take the lead as you make out. His kisses gradually grow more aggressive—the clashing of teeth, nipping, squeezing, and grinding. Matt rolls your bodies over on the bed, eagerly but carefully pulling off your shirt.
“Please tell me you were anticipating this and have condoms on you,” you pant as he peppers kisses all over your torso.
“Mmm,” he hums into my body. Oh my God, I think I just came. “Four.”
“We’re using all of them.” You feel how his lips curl into a smile against your body, making you writhe before you scream out when he starts to suck on the sweet spot on your neck.
“Ambitious,” he hums, licking and kissing at the stinging spot on my neck.
“Oh, well, you know me,” you grunt, your fingertips scratching his scalp. “I love to go above and beyond.”
“Let’s shoot for two,” he says into your collarbone.
“Don’t think I can handle using them all?”
He lifts his face up to be level with yours. “I’m saying that you won’t be walking straight after one. If we use more than two, I’ll be carrying you around campus for a week.”
“Sound like a challenge.”
“It’s a guarantee.”
You both smile brightly before you kiss, and you bunch up the cotton of his shirt exposing his soft skin and toned muscles something out of a romance novel.
“Like what you see?” he smirks.
“You’re too cocky for your own good,” you sigh as you run a hand down his exposed body. “But as a matter of fact, I really, really do.”
“Well, if you’re thinking of doing what I think you are, angel . . . Tonight is about you, and treating you right. How I should’ve treated you a long time ago.” He leans down and kisses your lips before moving the embraces along your cheek to just below your ear. “Sit back and relax, sweetheart. I’m gonna take good care of you.”
You sigh as he presses kisses down your chest, nipping at your cleavage and soothing the sting of any bite with his lips. You pant in excitement under his touch as his hands wrap around my back, unclasping your bra and sliding it painfully slow off of your body. You let out a sigh and toss your head to the side as his lips wrap around your nipple, one of his hands on your free breast while the other hand holds onto yours. Matt takes his time as if he’s trying to map out your body in his mind with his lips. Gazing down, you catch a glimpse of how happy Matt looks as he drags his lips further down your torso, pressing a long kiss on your belly button before unbuttoning your pants to shimmy them off your legs. Tossing them to the floor, he kisses all the way up your legs before spreading them apart to nestle his face against your covered core. You whine at his careful and deliberate movements, lifting your hips to help him slide the fabric off. Matt’s fingers gently spread you open, exposing yourself completely to him.
“Oh, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes. “So perfect for me.”
Carefully, he lets out a soft breath on your pussy before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around your clit.
“Oh!” you cry out. “Fuck . . .”
Your toes curl as Matt works his magic, and your eyes flutter shut as you let your mind get caught up in all the things that Matt is making you feel. If you had known he could make you feel like this—if you knew he even felt an inkling of the same way toward your, you would’ve done something to let him know that you care about him more more than a friend.
“Matty,” you breathe, running your fingers through his hair. “Oh, Matt, just like that. So good.”
You watch as Matt tries to lift his gaze upward to meet yours, his beautiful hazel eyes sparkling with delight as he eats you out. You swallow hard, throwing your head back as you feel your orgasm quickly approach. You cry out when you feel him slide two fingers into you, curling them just right to throw you over the edge. Your body arches off of the mattress as you cry out, your thighs clenching around his head. Matt’s tongue cleans up every last drop of your arousal before kissing all the way back up your body.
“You taste so good, angel,” he murmurs into your lips. “You ready for me?”
“Please,” you breathe, kissing him deeply. “I need you.”
He grins, kissing you again before leaning back and undoing his pants, shimmying them down enough to free his cock from the fabric before he reaches in his pocket to grab a condom. He is absolutely huge—delightfully so, and I feel the space between my legs instantly flood at the sight of him. Now what he said about not walking straight makes total sense, and not Matt just being cocky.
“All the way off,” you demand with a smile.
“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
You bite your lip in excitement as he gets completely naked while you tear open the little foil package.
“C’mere,” you grin as you drink him in as he kneels on your bed, completely and utterly bare.
Matt licks his lips, doing as you ask, folding his arms behind his head. Fuck, he has to know what he’s doing when he rests like that. Carefully, you crawl over to him, putting the tip of the condom in your mouth before you wrap your hand around his base and bring your head down his length. Your jaw hurts as you go down his thick cock, but you manage to get it all the way down. When you get back up, you see how lust-blown Matt’s expression is, how flushed his cheeks and chest are.
“That was so fucking hot,” he hums. “Get over here, angel.”
With a smile, you move to meet him in a kiss, a new passion in the embrace that hand’t been there before.
“You ready for me?” he breathes.
“Yeah,” you nod eagerly as you dip down for a kiss.
With firm hands on your hips, he guides you down on his cock. You moan in harmony as he gets deeper and deeper in you, and it feels like you’re going to get split in two the further he goes. When you’re all the way down, he pulls you in for a deep kiss.
“Are you okay?” he breathes when your lips part.
“I’m okay,” you assure him. “You’re big."
“And you’re tight,” he smirks. “You good for me to move?”
“Oh, fuck, please.”
“Such good manners.”
With another kiss and a smile, Matt wraps his arms around you so your back is on the mattress and he’s hovering above you. You feel the sweet sting from the drag of his cock as he pulls out before pushing back in, testing and stretching you slowly as he starts to establish a rhythm. Your lips part as you feel more pleasure with each of Matt’s thrusts, one of your hands moving to his bicep and creating little crescent moons in his soft skin as he moves faster and faster.
“Right there,” you breathe. “Shit . . . Matt, yes, right there.”
“Good girl,” he hums. “So good taking my cock like that.”
“K-Kiss me,” you stutter, feeling your second orgasm approaching.
Looking at you tenderly, he leans down and kisses you long and slow, staying lower to keep little space between our bodies.
“You’re perfect,” he breathes, kissing your cheek. “So perfect.”
“Matt, ‘m close,” you whimper.
“Whenever you’re ready.” His hand cradles the side of your face, kissing you once more.
You bite your lip, stifling your moan as you come around Matt, your body clinging to his as he continues to move his hips, his skin flushing as he grunts, approaching his own release, spilling into the condom. He kisses you all over as your breathing steadies, pulling out and tossing the condom into the trash before wrapping you in his arms and kissing your wherever his lips can find skin.
“Matt,” you chuckle softly as he sucks marks into your collarbone.
“Shh,” he hums, kissing the marks to soothe them.
“Matt, it tickles!”
You feel his lips curl into a smile as he presses kisses up your neck. “I’ve always loved your laugh. This is just another way I can hear it.”
“And it’s another way I can see your smile.” You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You know, I bet if you give me enough time in between, we can use up all the condoms.”
“You think?”
“Nothing saying we can’t try.”
“Ambitious girl,” he smiles.
“It’s part of my charm. Why you like me. Why we work well together.”
“One of the reasons, yeah. There’s plenty of others, though.”
“Oh?”
“Mm.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ve got a whole list.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” 
You giggle at the silence and look at him. “Are you gonna tell me any?”
Matt’s fingers trace aimless patterns on your skin. “I think you already know them, angel. But I’ll tell you one every day. Today, it’s your ambition. Tomorrow . . .” He lets out a breath. “It’ll be whatever feels right for me to point out.”
“Well, I’ve got a list, too. And right at the top is how safe you make me feel. How special you make me feel. How loved." You kiss his chest. "Tomorrow’s something might have to do with your nose.”
Matt’s expression is filled with tenderness, closing the gap between you once more, holding onto you and letting you rest right above his heart.
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Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​
Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters
380 notes · View notes
hoshologies · 10 months
Text
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ALL GREEK LOVE, LEE H.
synopsis — you spent the entire summer telling your family that you weren't going to join a sorority. now not only are you an initiated member of delta eta sigma, but you've been elected to the social chair position for you chapter. that's all well and good until heeseung lee, the newly elected social chairman for lambda rho and well-known in the greek community, reaches out to you to start planning runouts between your respective chapters. and now you're spending a lot more time with the cutest boy you've ever met.
genres &&. warnings — romance, fluff, meet-cute, smut, strangers to friends to lovers!au, college!au, greek life!au &&. underage drinking, afab!reader, tipsy sex, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstimulation.
word count — 15.7k.
from the author — not to be totally sorority girl, but the way i see greek life depicted in college au fics is CRAZY. now that i'm back hardcore into my kpop stan era, i rewatched the drunk-dazed mv and was like hmm... so the ultimate plan here was to write heeseung filth but also portray greek life a little more accurately because even if i'm not a huge fan, one thing about me is i'm gonna make sure y'all KNOW that greek life isn't just parties every weekend.
jokes aside, i really hope you enjoy this fic and my first real return to writing. likes, reblogs, and feedback are always welcome. and honestly, if you have any questions about greek life that you just have to know the answer to, i'm an open book.
if you enjoyed it, feel free to buy me a ko-fi!
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the entire summer before starting your freshman year of college, you had told your family that you weren’t going to join a sorority. in your mind, there was a specific mold that one needed to fit into to join a sorority and quite frankly, you checked none of the boxes of those stereotypes. 
yet here you sit, months later, in your sorority’s chapter meeting. and you’ve just been elected to the social chair position of the chi nu chapter of delta eta sigma. 
truthfully, you’re not quite sure how you ended up here. you hadn’t formally rushed the week before school, but a couple of drunk girls at a frat party at the beginning of the semester had told you that you should rush their sorority. maybe you’d been a little desperate to branch out or maybe you were just a little curious of what rushing looked like, but a few days later at the student organization fair, you’d found the booth for the sorority the girls had told you they belonged to, delta eta sigma, and signed up for their informal rush.
by the end of october, you had been extended a bid, assigned a big, and promptly initiated into the chapter in what you jokingly referred to as a cult ritual (how could you describe it any other way? all white outfit? candles? promises to not divulge secrets about rituals that happen behind closed doors?).
and now, just three weeks after officially joining the chapter, you’ve ended up on the programming board somehow. you’d gotten a call from the selection board while sitting in the drive-thru of mcdonalds, waiting impatiently for your order of fries and a sprite as a treat for doing well on your gen psych quiz. the girl who’d called you said you’d made “quite the impression” on the sorority since accepting the bid and that they (including the chapter advisor) thought you’d be the perfect fit for the social chair.
“it’s a solo position, so you won’t have a co-chair like community service does, but given your grades so far this semester and the impact you’ve made on the chapter already, we would really love to see what you can do in this position! would you be interested?”
so really, how could you say anything but yes? you still don’t think you fit all that perfectly into the chapter, but they were giving you an opportunity to get involved and to make yourself fit. your name is announced for the social chair, one of your senior pictures pasted up on the powerpoint, and the girls around you smile and snap their fingers. from the executive board seats up front, your big smiles at you, eyes sparkling with something akin to pride.
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a few days later, as you’re getting lunch at the student union, your phone screen lights up with a notification from groupme. a name you vaguely recognize is paired with a message that gets cut off after a few words.
heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho and…
as you sit down with your salad and dr. pepper, you click the notification and read it in full. at the very top of the new message thread is heeseung’s picture and it clicks where you recognize him from. he’s friends with your big and he’s involved in a few of the bigger student organizations on campus, namely the activities board, so you’ve seen him in the student union fairly often.
[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho! i’m friends with liv and she told me that you just got elected as the new social chair for your sorority. i just got slated into the same position for my frat.
[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: i know we won’t start running things until next semester, but i just wanted to reach out and touch base with you. i’m really looking forward to planning runouts with you next year :]
[1:37 pm] heeseung lee: sorry. i hope that wasn’t too weird. i guess i’m just a little too excited and want to get a bit of a headstart on things. have a good day!
you laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you set the phone down to take a bite of salad. before getting involved in greek life, you always assumed sorority girls and frat guys were airheaded and mean, people who peaked in high school, trying desperately to drag those glory days out. obviously since then, you’ve come to realize that while it is true in some occasions, most times, greek life members are the opposite.
heeseung, who you’ve never spoken to before, is proving that.
[1:42 pm] hi heeseung! not weird at all, i promise. and i’m really excited to plan events with you next semester too :]
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by the beginning of february, you haven’t done much with your position. granted, the semester has only really been in full swing for about a week and a half and you have two full semesters to do plenty of things, but you’re itching to start planning. the binder you were given after the officer transition ritual has so many good ideas, everything from runouts with frats and sororities to both formal and semiformal.
while you’re brainstorming ideas for potential social events late on a tuesday night, your phone lights up from its spot on your nightstand, the short bell sound ringing out. you reach for it absentmindedly as you finish writing down the idea you had (rent out skating rink??? check budget). since the beginning of the school year, you’ve become desensitized to the groupme icon when it appears in your notifications, so much so that you barely register heeseung’s name upon first glance. it takes a second look for you to realize who’s texted you.
[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: sorry for texting so late. i just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up some time and start on some ideas for a runout?
[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: obviously not now!! but if you’re free some time this week, we could meet somewhere and talk. i spent all of winter break brainstorming stuff, so i’d really like to run it by you if that’s ok.
[9:14 pm] hi again heeseung. i was actually planning on getting lunch tomorrow at the student union after i’m done with class at 11 if you’re free then?
the second you press send, you immediately start second guessing yourself. does it come off like you’re asking him to have lunch with you? because that wasn’t your intention. really, you just meant that you’re going to be on campus proper for a little bit and wanted to offer to meet before you got lunch. not that it would be a bad thing if he asked if you could get lunch together; liv likes heeseung well enough and you’ve seen him around, and he really does seem nothing but nice, so lunch really couldn’t hurt— okay, take a breath. it is not that serious.
you take a deep breath and then let your muscles go lax as you exhale. better. 
it feels like ages pass before he texts back. you’re worried you’ve scared him off, but it really shouldn’t be that stressful. it’s just a text and he’s the one who wanted to meet up in the first place anyways; you just offered a time and location. but finally, your phone dings again and his name lights up your screen.
[9:21 pm] heeseung lee: actually that works perfect!! i get out of class at the same time and usually grab lunch at the u before heading to the activities board office. wanna meet by the dining area next to the office?
[9:21 pm] sounds like a plan!! i’ll see you then!
heeseung, you realize as you set your phone down and put away your binder for the night, is the only social chair of any of the greek organizations who has reached out to you to start getting the ball rolling. he seems to be just as anxious as you are about doing this job well, which makes you feel at least a little validated. nervous and jittery though you may be about meeting him for the first time tomorrow after only having chatted with him over text twice, the idea of him feeling the same as you brings a strange form of comfort. with enough of it, you actually start looking forward to seeing him tomorrow as you lay down to sleep, mind running a mile a minute with what it’ll be like to meet him after all of the things you’ve heard about him from liv. by the time you slip into the embrace of sleep, anxiety has boiled down into anticipation.
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at 11:02 the next morning, heeseung nearly scares the hell out of you when he shows up at the designated meeting spot. you’re so invested in your twitter scroll that you don’t notice when he walks up. it’s not until he says a soft “hi” that you jump and almost drop your phone in the process. when you look up, there’s a worried look on his face.
“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!” 
after a moment to catch your breath, you shake your head and wave his worry off, though the gesture doesn’t do much to make that worried look on his (undeniably pretty) face. “it’s okay, heeseung. really.”
to really seal the deal, you shoot him a gentle smile, trying to prove that your heart isn’t about ready to give out anymore. you feel blessed when he returns it, all quirked up at the corners and smile lines and soft, plush cheeks. silence falls, the two of you smiling and staring at each other like idiots until heeseung shakes himself out of his stupor.
“anyways…” he clears his throat and moves his gaze towards the food court. “what did you want to get to eat? my treat.”
you look up at him, at the way he’s pointedly not looking at you and instead examining the restaurants just beyond the dining areas. you know, the restaurants that have been the same for the last five years probably and will be here for another five, the ones he’s grabbed food from at least a couple of times since the semester started and even more since the beginning of the school year. 
“you don’t have to buy me lunch, heeseung. it’s-”
he finally turns to look at you again, that same easy smile still pulling his features into a soft form of happiness. “it’s no problem, really. just an act of good faith. all greek love and whatnot, you know?”
you laugh a little at that, conceding but allowing him to choose where he wants to get lunch from since he’s the one paying and you don’t really have a preference. by the time you’re sat opposite each other at a table with meals from the burger stall, your stomach is rumbling. you’re about half of the way through your burger when heeseung looks up from his fries, clearing his throat to get your attention.
“so…” he starts. it’s clear he hadn’t planned what he wanted to say before catching your focus, so an awkward silence settles over him, eyes on you but focused somewhere off behind you like he’s looking through you instead. you tilt your head, lean in close, which snaps him out of the trance and he restarts. “right, ideas for events. i have a binder from the last social chair of my frat with a bunch of things he did during his time.”
“oh! i do, too!” you interject. “there’s a bunch of stuff that the last girl did and then things some of the girls before her did too.”
heeseung’s grin breaks back across his face, bright and warm; you swear, a smile from this boy alone could break up the threatening winter storm currently hanging over campus. “there’s a bunch of good ideas in mine. but i’m not quite sure how well they’d work right now because of the weather.”
“are most of the ideas outside?” you inquire, taking a sip of your soda while he confirms your suspicions. when you put the cup back down, you wave off his concern. “no worries then. almost all of mine are ones that can be inside, so we could go through those if you want!”
heeseung nods and smiles that morning sunlight smile of his, and you can’t move quick enough to pull the thin pink binder out of your tote bag. he clears away some of the trash from the table so you can lay out the binder, intro page on full display. for the next five minutes, the pair of you pore over the pages upon pages of ideas, sleek white cut through with black ink that lists the idea, the locations, how much it costs. 
you’re so invested in going over everything with him that you hardly acknowledge when heeseung stands and moves into the open seat beside you so neither one of you is craning your neck. you simply adjust the binder so you can read through the pages comfortably. it isn’t until heeseung points one out excitedly and you look up in startle that you finally notice that he isn’t a foot away but inches, noses just centimeters apart.
right now, this is the most compromising position you could possibly be in with a boy you hardly know and you find yourself praying that nobody from either of your chapters decides to walk by. of course, neither of you have anything to hide – this is a simple brainstorming session, of course, absolutely nothing more – but liv and your small group of friends would never let you live this down if they saw it.
heeseung clears his throat after seconds that stretch into years and you break your gaze from his painfully (how can you be blamed for staring? he’s that soft kind of pretty that hypnotizes). “um… so i think rollerskating could be fun…”
it is a good event that your sorority has done with the other frats and sororities in the past, one that you were playing around with as a potential plan to pitch to him. the fact that he picked it out on his own accord makes you bristle with something akin to pride, a feeling so warm and comforting it has you leaning just a little closer to him.
let the girls see me, you think as your sweater-clad shoulder brushes against his own. there are worse things they could catch me doing.
“actually… this was one of the ones i was going to suggest if you didn’t find any that you were really interested in…” you say quietly, voice nearly lost in the din of the dining area of the student union.
heeseung looks at you, blinking slow and round and soft, as if each flutter of his eyelids is a moment of his brain processing your words. “really… maybe it’s a sign…?”
his voice is just as soft, matching your energy in one swift go. you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as you, if he’s feeling that it seems like you’ve known one another forever despite only knowing each other for fifteen minutes max; it seems like your souls themselves are in complete synergy, so why would it be so farfetched to wonder if maybe you knew each other in a different life to have caused that synchrony?
you laugh a little and shrug, shoulder brushing against his softly; the movement is short and sweet, but your heart rises in you like the high tide, washing through your veins with foam and salt and the kind of breeze only the ocean can bring, chill and warm all at once. “maybe so.”
silence settles over the table like sand stirred on the ocean floor, the both of you lost in your own worlds. heeseung has dragged his soda to this side of the table and sips absentmindedly, gaze focused miles beyond the horizon of the hallway. he’s completely checked out when your consciousness wanders back into your body and you take the moment to study him a little: the even slope of his nose, high cheekbones paired with plush skin, long eyelashes that brush the apex of his cheeks when he blinks, a flutter of dark against light. 
there are worse boys you could be caught staring at.
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you’re still thinking about your lunch with heeseung hours later, even when you’re out getting your weekly tuesday night ice cream with your big. liv is going on about how her professor for her linguistics class pissed her off during lecture today, but you’re not absorbing a single word of any of it. you remember vaguely that he openly disagreed with her during the lecture and they got into a debate in front of the whole class, but beyond that, you don’t know much else.
“god, he’s just the worst. i can’t believe– alright, you’re in the stratosphere right now. what’s going on?”
you snap back to reality, eyes wide and goosebumps prickling up under the sleeves of your sweater. you shake your head, trying to brush away the conversation she’s trying to prompt, even though it’ll be futile because liv can’t let things go for the life of her. “nothing! everything’s fine, i swear.”
liv’s eyes narrow and a single dark eyebrow quirks up. “yeah, i’m not buying it.”
you glare playfully at her, eating a spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. when you swallow, you answer with a pointed, “when do you buy anything i say? really, liv. it’s nothing.”
“did someone say something to you? i’m part of panhellenic and on the all-greek council. if someone did something, i can handle it.”
you shake your head earnestly and wave a hand for extra emphasis. “olivia. seriously. nothing happened.”
your big is silent for a few moments, studying you intently. her shady blue eyes, usually wistful and giving the impression of being miles away herself, cut right down to your very bone, as if she’ll find the answer she’s looking for written into your skin or soul, carved into your heart. eventually, she sighs and slumps back against the booth.
“alright, fine. i’ll believe you this time,” she says in a voice that hints at disappointment. “but you’d tell me if someone did say something to you, right? i’m serious about getting things taken care of if someone does something like that to you.”
you smile, reach across the table, rest your hand over her. “yes, liv. i would tell you if somebody treated me badly. you’re the only friend i have who would be willing to go to jail if needed. but i promise the situation doesn’t call for that right now.”
she perks up a little at your words and takes a deep breath, nodding. she’s back to her bubbly self, resuming her rant about her asshole linguistics professor who definitely shouldn’t have tenure. the whiplash her behavior gives you definitely just secured her an award for “most melodramatic” at formal in april (which, fuck you have to start planning that soon too).
you remain checked into liv’s rant, assenting when she asks you for your opinions on this professor who you’ve never met and never plan on meeting, and offering advice when she wants it. but you still find yourself wandering off at times, mind focused on heeseung.
you’re not sure why you don’t want to tell her about meeting with the boy earlier; she’s one of his friends and she’s always spoken so highly about him, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed. in fact, she’s mentioned in passing a couple of times (mostly when she’s undeniably hammered) that she thinks you and heeseung would make a cute couple, even though she’s never seen the two of you interact, let alone exist in the same room.
but there’s something special about the thirty minutes you shared with heeseung. you met in a public place, sure, but something about it felt and still feels so sacred to you. it’s something you want to keep a secret for at least a little while. that soft sunshine smile and the low tide brushes of shoulders are things that, for now, belong solely to you and heeseung. it won’t kill liv to be left out of the loop for a while.
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“do you think we should have it closer to midterms?” heeseung’s voice is pure static, like he’s going through a tunnel, even though there’s only half a campus worth of distance between you.
the two of you have graduated from groupme dms to phone calls over the course of three days. heeseung is saved affectionately in your phone as sseung with the deer emoji, one that you picked out as he sat across from you after you’d exchanged numbers; he doesn’t know about it, but he reminds you often of a deer caught in headlights with the way he stares at you all wide-eyed when you try to catch his attention.
“maybe? but people have to study. i’m not sure how often your guys are in the library, but i see at least thirty girls at the library every single night, so i’m not sure how willing they’d be to give up a night of studying, even if it is only for an hour, that close to midterms.”
heeseung’s small, thoughtful hmm is audible over the speaker and you smile to yourself over a basket of clean laundry. you’ve spent maybe three hours max with him over the last couple of days and already you have a pretty decent grasp on his personality and habits. right now, you can picture the way he likely looks up from his phone or planner and stares off past the beige cinderblock wall of his dorm room, turning possibilities over in his head.
“no, you’re right about that. i didn’t even consider it.”
you shrug as though he can see you, folding a pair of sweats and setting them to the side. “i’d definitely like for it to be soonish though. it doesn’t have to be planned super far in advance, you know what i mean? we’ve still got… what? a month until midterms?”
“i think so, yeah.”
you nod to yourself, hanging up one of your shirts. “okay, so what about two weeks from now? that lands us right in between now and midterms, so it’d be a happy medium.”
he’s silent on the other end of the line and you pause in your hanging of another shirt, worried that he’s thinking you’re stupid. of course, heeseung would never think anything like that about anyone because he’s the sweetheart to end all sweethearts. still, you worry because what this boy thinks of you is ridiculously imperative to your day to day functions.
three days, you remind yourself. you’ve known him for three days. there’s no reason for his opinions to hold this much weight.
you wonder if heeseung knows just how easy it is to like him, to be around him; if he knows just how much you want to see him all the time because he’s completely taken over your every waking thought. liv’s comments about him made in passing never could have truly captured just how amazing he is, nice and caring and so so pretty. you’re almost embarrassed to be this head over heels for him, but when he laughs over the phone or focuses all of his attention on you over a table in the food court, that mortification burns away into something soft and sweet and slow.
“i think that’s a great idea. not too soon, so we can make sure our chapters know it’s happening, but not too late that it disrupts any midterm studying.”
you breathe a sigh of relief and smile to yourself, resting your hands against the lip of the laundry basket. the rational part of your brain knew he was going to agree, but the part of you that so desperately craves his approval was disgustingly terrified that you wouldn’t receive it. now that you have, though, a heat rushes through you, pride warm and bright because you offered a good solution to the minuscule obstacle.
“yeah, exactly!”
you can just imagine the grin on heeseung’s face right now, delicate like freshly fallen snow. the image fills you with the giddiness of a high school girl, glad to be the one to have caused such a beautiful sight. “okay, cool. i’ll talk about it with the executive board, get it approved and whatnot, but i think we should be set, besides who’s paying for what.”
“what do you mean?” you question, brows furrowing as you finish up the last of your laundry.
“what do you mean?” there’s a playful, teasing edge in his voice. “someone has to pay to book the rink and the shoes, and don’t you think there should be snacks?”
“oh… yeah, i guess so.”
“so i was thinking we’d cover the booking and you could cover the food… but only if you’re cool with that! obviously, it’s not a big deal or anything, but i figured we should get that in order too so we can a specific date set and everything.”
“no, no! that works fine for me! i honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead, so it’s a good thing you did.” the line falls silent for a few moments, static crackling softly between you. there’s just something about the idea that you’re so close yet so far from each other, physically distant but holding each other close like this over a quiet cellphone line. it’s comforting to have him like this, you find.
“but yeah…” you break the stillness with your voice soft so as to not completely shatter the tranquility you’ve cultivated here. “that’s… that’s good thinking, heeseung.”
“hanks…” his own words mimic the same volume, nearly lost in the haze of the phone. “so… i’ll run it by the exec board and let you know?”
you hum a quick mhmm and tell him that you’ll do the same. there should be no reason that you’ll be denied, but the fact that liv, seeing as she’s vice president of programming, is part of the exec board and will find out that you’ve been, at the very least, talking to heeseung on a semi-regular basis (see: every day this week since tuesday afternoon) is a little nerve wracking, mostly because you’re ninety-nine percent sure she’s been hinting at trying to set the two of you up.
and when you say hinting, you mean pointing him out on campus or at parties and saying something like “really, i think you two would get along so well! you should go and talk to him.”
she was right about that, but the last thing you need right now is her finding out that you are catching feelings, all without her meddling. but you’ll make peace with the fact because you have to.
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liv sidles up to you two weeks later on a thursday night, knit-clad arms crossed over her chest. you don’t even have to look at her to know she’s wearing a smug expression right now. “so…”
you don’t even physically react to her presence, instead choosing to gaze out over the rollerskating rink in your little college town. “so… what, liv?”
she nudges you with her shoulder and leans with her back against the wall separating the rink floor from the carpet of the sitting area. “you and heeseung, huh? i’ve been telling you for ages that the two of you would get along!”
you scoff playfully and roll your eyes, finally turning your head to look at her. “can you not start sentences like that?”
“like what?” she asks innocently.
“like heeseung and i have something going on. all we did was plan one runout together. we’ve only met, like, one time in person.”
you regret the words almost as soon as they leave the tip of your tongue because the second she hears the phrase “in person,” she’s already causing a scene. even though her voice is somewhat drowned out by the music blasting over the speakers, the absolute tenacity with which she gestures with her entire body draws more attention than it should. melodramatic as per usual.
“in person? when was this? and why was i not informed?” the questions liv asks a million times come out more like exclamations than anything else, too caught up in melodramatic distress to adjust the tone of her voice correctly.
you shrug absently, turning your head back towards the rink. heeseung is standing on the opposite side, talking to a few of the guys from his frat. he looks nice in his blue and green sweater and loose jeans, brown hair tousled from the winter breeze outside. “a couple weeks ago. and i didn’t tell you because it just wasn’t that important. we literally only had lunch just to talk about ideas for this.”
liv whines your name and stomps a foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “yeah, but i’m your big. i wanna know these things! and i’ve also been trying to set you two up forever! you didn’t think i’d want to know that you’d finally met him, even if it wasn’t because of anything i’d plan? my feelings are hurt.”
“first, this is exactly why one of the awards for formal this semester is going to be most over dramatic and exactly why you’re going to win,” you start, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “second, i knew you would want to know, but i also knew this is how you’d react. i didn’t think you’d want to know about us setting up an event together, like… there’s no tea to spill or whatever. it’s just boring stuff. i don’t even know him that well.”
a bold-faced lie if you’ve ever told one; you know heeseung down to the cologne he puts on every morning. and maybe there was a little more to the event planning sessions. at least five times over the past two weeks, heeseung has approached you either in the food court or at the library, and taken the seat opposite of you to chat and study a bit. not to mention, you’ve texted every single day since the two of you officially met for the first time.
but again: nothing liv needs to know. heeseung, for now, is just your little secret. the conversations you’ve shared, the little details you know about him, the sweater he’d given you a few days ago when you’d gotten cold at the library and your own sweater had gotten soaking wet due to rain and your lack of an umbrella, those are your things, special and personal and entirely yours.
“ugh. the two of you are so boring,” liv moans dramatically, tipping her head back. “i hope you hang out more after this, but only if you tell me about it.”
you shrug and glance back across the rink. heeseung has shifted positions, his arms crossed over the railing and by some stroke of luck, he’s looking at you, looking otherworldly under the shifting blue and purple lights. he smiles softly, just a quick phantom of a grin, and the only think you can do is return it with that same gentleness and warmth.
“maybe,” you say, glancing over at liv and then back at heeseung. “i guess we’ll just have to see.”
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a week later, you’re sitting in your dorm room on a friday night, finalizing edits for a midterm paper, when there’s a banging at your door fifteen minutes before ten.
“heyyy! let me innn!” liv’s voice is airy and slurred through the door, so you can already guess what she’s here for.
with a heavy sigh, you stand and make your way to the door, opening it and finding your big leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. she’s dressed in her usual party attire: ripped jeans, black tank top, dirty shoes reserved specifically for the sticky basement floors of frat houses. she’s holding a metal water bottle in her hands; you can only guess what she’s mixed in it tonight.
“what’s up, liv?” you ask, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe, even though you don’t need an answer. you hadn’t anticipated her being here, so you’re already decked out in your comfy night clothes, prepared for a night in only. 
“lambda is throwing a party and you’re going with me,” she says peppily, practically jumping up and throwing herself into your room.
“liv-“
she whips around on her heels to face you, eyes glowing in the soft gold of your fairy lights. “no fighting me on this. you’ve been working hard and you need a break. so you’re going to dress like the hot bitch you are and then we’re going to lambda.”
liv is rooted to the spot, though she sways a little on her feet, and makes it known without words that she is not moving until you get ready for this dumb frat party. eager to get her drunken glare off of you, you sigh and nod, closing the door behind you, shutting off your desk light, and moving towards your wardrobe, rifling through the hangers to find a proper outfit.
you’ve been to lambda rho’s house before and it is nothing to write home about… unless, of course, you’re talking about how absolutely filthy the basement is; they have the best sized basement out of all of the frats on campus, but you swear they have never done anything to clean the floor. the first time you went, you’d been having a great time drinking well-mixed jungle juice and dancing to the best songs of the 2010s when you noticed that every step you took sounded like velcro. the floor was so sticky that you were literally having to put pressure behind pulling your shoes from the concrete. it totally killed the vibe.
but the jungle juice and occasional jello shots are great, so you persevere. besides, lambda throws the best parties on campus and you’re clearly the person to trust on party hot takes since you only go back to frats you have a good time at (sorry, sigma pi).
plus, heeseung is in lambda rho and he has to be there since he’s the social chair and all, so… you note that out of the maybe five parties you’ve been to there since the beginning of the school year, you’ve never once seen him. granted, he’s only required to be at any parties hosted while he’s the social chairman, so maybe he just didn’t go to any last semester. or maybe he’s a wallflower like you, choosing to stand on the outskirts instead of in the center of attention.
lost in your haze of heeseung thoughts, you don’t really register that you’ve finished dressing and that liv has sat you down at your desk to fix your hair. somehow, while very much drunk, your big has an easy time styling it. she’s focused intensely on the task at hand, but also manages to carry on a one-sided conversation, not realizing that you’re not responding to her. but when she moves her hands from your head and sets them on the back of your chair, you’re amazed; she’s always been good at styling and fashion (hence why she’s been in charge of the homecoming student org dance and cheer competition every fall for the last two years), but you weren’t expecting her skills to be up to par while buzzed to hell and back.
“there we go, ready to wow heeseung,” liv says matter-of-factly, a proud look on her face. when you glare at her through the mirror, she smiles and shrugs lazily, reaching to grab her water bottle and phone from your desk. “what? he’ll be there tonight and i’ve heard through the grape vine that he might have a little crush on you, so…”
you whip around at her words, hands braced against the back of your chair. something like liquid anxiety prickles under your skin, sending goosebumps across your arms. liv is friends with just about everyone in greek life, so “the grape vine” could quite literally mean anybody, but who did she find that out from anyways? when did heeseung say anything like that? did he even actually say that or is she just deadset on shipping the two of you together until it either happens or falls through?
“what?”
she looks back at you over her shoulder, one hand resting on the doorknob and your dorm keys in the other. there’s a mischievous glint in her dark eyes and your heart drops; how did you get such a schemer as a big? “oh, yeah. i was hanging out at the lambda house the other night with yeonjun. you know? heeseung’s big? and he maybe mentioned something about it. why do you wanna know?”
she sidles back up to you, pulling you out of the chair by your shoulders. “do you maybe… i don’t know… like him back? why are you so nervous?”
you shake your head, trying to will the goosebumps on your arms and lightning in your veins away. you’ve claimed a million times over the last few weeks that there is nothing more going on between you and that boy, no matter how pretty or sweet you might think he is. heeseung is just a friend, someone you just so happened to click really well with and just so happened to plan a really fun event with. there’s nothing else to say about it or the way you get excited when his name shows up on your phone or how your day immediately gets better when he walks up to you at the library without texting you first, your favorite snack and coffee in hand and a smile on his face.
there’s nothing there to unpack. you think.
“i’m not nervous. and i bet yeonjun just misheard heeseung. the two of us are just friends. i’ve told you that a million times and i’m sure he’s said the same thing.”
liv just laughs and ushers you towards the door. “okay, okay… sure, sweetheart. let’s get over there before they run out of alcohol.”
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jay, the self-appointed dj for every lambda rho party, is blasting year 3000 by the jonas brothers when you and liv arrive in the basement. there’s already a large group of bodies on the dance floor, but the bar area is still pretty crowded and getting worse. liv links her arm with yours so that you won’t get separated, even though there’s no chance of you getting lost or anything.
the two of you make your way towards the bar where yeonjun is “bartending,” a term he insists on using despite the fact that all he does is pour cups of vibrant red jungle juice. blonde hair hangs over his forehead and his skin is glistening with sweat already, looking weirdly ethereal under the colorful lights that fill the room. when he sets eyes on you and liv, he smiles brightly and leans against the bartop.
“hey, you two! glad you finally showed up!” he shouts over the music. “jungle juice?”
liv nods enthusiastically, mimicking his posture and crossing her arms on top of the counter. “yes please! any chances you have jello shots tonight too?”
the boy looks around before he leans in closer to answer. “don’t tell anyone else, but i made some just for you two since you’re my favorite customers.”
liv rolls her eyes and swats at his bicep, but she’s smiling anyways. “we’re not customers, jun. you’re not even getting paid to do this. when are you gonna stop acting like you’re a real bartender, huh?”
he clenches his hand over his heart and stumbles backwards, feigning pain. “you wound me so, liv. i did something nice for you and this is how you repay me. i can’t believe this!”
but in the midst of his monologue, he bends over to open a mini fridge behind the bar and returns with a couple of jello shots. he tells you to take them here while he gets your drinks and hide them the best you can so nobody gets up in arms that he’s providing something outside of the night’s menu. he’s always been especially nice to you, mostly because of liv and his undying love for her (though platonic or romantic, you’ve never been exactly sure about), so it’s all you can do to thank him and listen to his pleads for secrecy regarding the contraband jello shots. when he’s back above bar, you switch off, him discreetly tossing the small cups in the trash.
liv, finally armed with her precious red solo cup, turns to talk to some other friends, leaving you and yeonjun alone. the music is so loud you can hardly keep your thoughts straight, which is great for keeping your mind off of what liv said earlier, but doesn’t last long when yeonjun leans in ever closer, his cologne enveloping you entirely.
“you should thank heeseung for the jello shots, by the way. i honestly hadn’t even thought to make some for you and liv because i was busy with other stuff, but he asked about making some since he knows they’re your favorite.”
your heart clenches a little at the idea that heeseung wanted to make sure that you had things you liked at his frat’s party. it’s nice to have someone looking out for small things like that, even if it means breaking a rule or two. yeonjun rests his hand on top of your head and pats gently, a knowing look in his eyes.
“listen, i know that you swear up and down the wall that you and him are just friends, but for what it’s worth, he likes you a lot. he just won’t say it. you know him. he’s kinda bad with words. it’s not really my place to make his confession for him, but just… you know. give him a chance.”
you nod dumbly and give him a half-baked smile when he pulls his hand off your head. a few girls walk up, vying for their own drinks, so you take that as your cue to walk away, red solo cup cradled in your hands. any hope of not thinking about heeseung lee has been completely undone by both liv and yeonjun. 
suddenly, you are far too sober.
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two hours later, you’re five drinks in, only kept track of by the cups you have in your hand, and you’re feeling pleasantly buzzed. the lights are a little brighter, the music a little louder, liv’s arm hot and grounding around your shoulders. she’s completely gone, despite the fact that she’s only had three cups of jungle juice. she’s serenading you with dancing queen by abba, somehow getting every single word wrong. 
“fuck, i’m way too drunk for this,” she says, breaking off a line in the middle of the second verse. “i’ll sing for you next time. promise.”
you laugh and lean against her, shaking your head. “okay, livvie. sounds good.” you’re content to end your sentence there, but you have an increasing awareness of how hot it’s gotten. the amount of people packed into the basement, especially in the center of the dancefloor like this, has contributed greatly to the heat and you need some time to cool down before it makes you sick. “listen, ‘m gonna get some air. ‘t’s getting really hot.”
liv nods and hugs you to her, voice chipper but slurred heavily. “‘kay! i’ll see you in a few.” she lets you go and breaks out into the next song, somehow worse than dancing queen.
you slip out of the crowd, already feeling a little cooler now that you’ve escaped from the hot press of bodies. standing on the outskirts of the dancefloor, you consider your options. there’s the open window that a cool breeze passes through or the door by yeonjun’s bar, which you know leads directly outside with a staircase up to the back deck. while you initially planned to be within arm’s reach for liv’s sake, your ears are starting to ring from the loud music and the choice is made for you.
you wave to yeonjun as you make your way towards the door. he pauses and leans over to ask you if you’re leaving, looking a little concerned, but you shake your head and tell him what you told liv. and then you tack on the information that she’s incredibly drunk, so he should watch out for her because knowing her, she’ll be tapping out sooner rather than later. he nods in understanding and lets you go, turning back to the two frat guys, jake and chan, that are standing at the bar.
the temperature difference between the basement and outside right now is jarring, but welcomed nonetheless. you carefully traverse the stairs, not quite confident in yourself to take them confidently, seeing as your sight is currently swimming a little and your head is light. getting to the top is a feat and you feel immediately better once you’re on the back deck.
you’re so out of it that you don’t realize you aren’t alone as you lean against the railing, reveling in the way the wood digs into your forearms and the chill bites at you through the sheer long sleeves of your black shirt. you’re still very much buzzed, but you feel a little more clear-headed now that you can hear yourself think.
the sound of your name startles you and you swear you jump ten feet in the air before you whip around, hand against your heart. heeseung is halfway out the back door, a cup in his hand and that deer caught in the headlights expression you’ve come to know well over the last month or so. 
“jesus, heeseung. you scared the shit out of me!” you say, catching your breath and leaning back against the railing.
“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to!” he finishes stepping out of the house and onto the deck with you, the door swinging shut behind him. he’s so earnest in his apology that you can’t help but smile, dropping your hand and instead taking a sip from your drink that you carried out here with you.
“you have a habit of sneaking up on me, huh?”
he joins you at the railing, leaning against it the way you are, and raises his own cup to his lips (perfect and plush and pink… enough of that). he shrugs as he drinks, wincing when it goes down rougher than he expected. the liquid that sloshes against the side is not the same color as yours, so you can only assume that one of the guys gave him something a little stronger than whatever they threw together for the jungle juice.
“i guess so,” he says through a small cough. “i don’t mean to, if that makes it any better.”
you laugh a little, nudging him with your shoulder. “it’s not a big deal, if that makes you feel better. i think it’s kinda funny.”
heeseung smiles at that and nods, keeping his eyes trained on the drink in his cup. it’s only when you’re committing his side profile to drunken memory that you realize the blush that’s crept up the back of his neck onto his cheeks and the tip of his ears. except, that sober voice inside your head argues it could just be from the cold. 
but neither of you have been out long enough for that to be the case. it’s not even that cold out here, just a little bit chilly. drunk you is having sneaking suspicions, ones that sober you would never entertain, and this is the first time you’re seeing heeseung at one of his frat’s parties, so you might as well take advantage of it all as much as you can.
“yeonjun told me what you did… the jello shots for me and liv, i mean,” you clarify the second you realize how the first sentence sounds without context. “thanks. i didn’t think you were really paying attention to that kind of stuff.”
heeseung turns his head to look at you, eyes a little wide but that soft, perfect smile offsets it nicely. he looks a little surprised that you found out about it, but not upset that yeonjun mentioned it.
“well… i mean, of course i do. that’s kinda… what i do, you know?”
he’s beating around the bush. yeonjun was right; heeseung never talks about his feelings and he sure as hell won’t offer you the words you’re waiting to hear right now. so, drunk you reasons, why is the only way to confess through words? he’s shown you how much he cares, he’s been doing it for weeks now. maybe you were suppressing your own feelings to keep liv off your back about it all, but in doing so, you’ve been diminishing heeseung’s own attempts at telling you. 
this whole thing with him has never been simply friends. love at first sight feels a little much, but you certainly have something between you and you have for weeks on end at this point. maybe it’s time to reward this beautiful boy for being so patient with you.
just as he’s beginning to turn his head away to look back towards the house, you set your cup on the railing and capture his face in your hands. there’s no moment for either of you to process what’s happening, just that one minute there’s a platonic amount of distance between you and the next, your lips are on his and it is warm and unpracticed and still unbelievably perfect. heeseung goes pliant and soft under your touch, his free hand resting gently on the small of your back. his fingers curl gently into your shirt, tethering himself to you. his other hand is still grasping his solo cup and you find yourself wishing he’d just drop the damn thing, even if it means the both of your shoes get soaked in whatever he’d been served (whiskey, you’d guess, from the smokey taste on his tongue).
he’s the first to pull away, eyes still closed for moments after. his breaths come shallow and his cheeks have gone impossibly red, his hand still against your back. you study him from this angle, closer than you’ve ever been, and somehow, you’re finding him prettier than ever before. maybe it’s the alcohol talking or the sudden lovesickness for him, but you don’t care because you finally kissed heeseung lee and left him breathless.
“what- um… what was that for?” he asks quietly, eyes fluttering open. his pupils are blown wide and awestruck (you think that’s the right word in your jungle juice induced haze).
you shrug, inching yourself a little closer towards him. he turns to meet you so your bodies run parallel to each other and finally sets his offending cup on the railing next to yours. “got tired waiting for you t’make a move.”
he makes a sound in the back of his throat and turns his head to look elsewhere, as if looking at you might make him drop dead. any doubt you had from earlier in the night that he’d told yeonjun that he liked you is swept away in a single moment; he can deny it all he wants now, but you already know the truth, so what’s the point?
“liv told me that she heard through the grape vine that you liked me…” you say softly, voice trailing off into the muffled sounds of a kesha song blasting in the basement. “is that… true?”
you watch as he draws a deep breath, squeezes his eyes closed, steels himself for whatever answer he’s about to give. with all your liquid courage now, confessing might not have been a big deal, but you know that if you’d been sober, it would be just as hard as this. but you swear you saw him drinking jungle juice down in the basement an hour and a half ago, and now he’s drinking something stronger, so he must be so naturally shy that not even alcohol can wipe it out.
finally, he lets his breath out and focuses his attention on you again, his eyes soft and pleading. don’t break my heart. please.
“yeah… yeah, i got a little drunk last weekend and told yeonjun that i thought i had feelings for you when he got me back to my dorm. i’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable or if it ruins our friendship. i j–”
you kiss him again, hot and heavy and full of longing and words you don’t dare voice because you’ve liked him for a long time too; you were just too afraid to admit it to yourself. but now he’s spilling his heart out and you’d rather walk barefoot through broken glass before you let him go on thinking for a second longer that his feelings aren’t reciprocated tenfold.
you step impossibly closer, your bodies pressed tight and heavy, the seam unbreakable. heeseung’s hands (both thank god) rest on your waist, holding you close. he bristles under your touch as you leave one hand on his shoulder and the other sneaks around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling into the fine, soft hair there. your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and his chest shudders against yours, some small, refined gasp of approval passing from his mouth to yours as he takes his turn to kiss the breath out of you.
it’s a tiny noise, barely noticeable, barely passing as a soft breathy moan. but you hear it and it’s embarrassingly enough to have your knees going a little weak. well, it’s not just that minuscule noise; it’s everything, it’s the way heeseung’s lips move against your own with an uncharacteristic amount of surety, the way his fingers have slipped under your shimmery black top (a “donation” from liv’s closet last homecoming), the way you can feel his body coming alive under your attention. if this is going where you think it’s going, the dreams you’ve been having about him at least once a week since you first met are about to come true.
heeseung is the first to break away again, but he looks less nervous than the first time. no, this time he looks flushed and tousled and so attractive it should be illegal. when he shifts his weight from his left to right foot, his body brushes against you and the heat of him is unmistakable. even if you couldn’t feel it, you can see the way his eyelids flutter and feel the way his chest shudders against yours. you can’t help yourself; you need him.
“come back to my dorm,” you whisper breathlessly, words manifesting physically in a cloud of fog. “please.”
the boy squeezes his eyes shut again, looks up towards the sky, draws that deep breath he’s so fond of right now. you almost back out, almost say it was a joke; he just confessed his feelings and you kissed twice, so maybe it’s all a little much for him. you really like him and you don’t want to scare him off; besides, what you’re feeling right now is nothing you can’t take care of on your own back in your dorm room. just as you’re about to tell him that he can say no, he’s seemingly talked himself up enough because he looks down at you, smiles, kisses you on his own accord, and then takes your hand.
“lead the way,” he says.
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you and heeseung stop at least five times on the way back to your dorm room to makeout, giggling into each other’s mouths as he presses you against a tree on the greens or as you pull him into the pools of darkness between streetlamps. every moment has him growing more confident, more certain that this isn’t just a hookup or a dream.
somewhere along the way, you text liv and tell her that you’re heading home because you’re not feeling well. it’s not farfetched, seeing as you’d broken away from her in the first place because you were feeling too hot. what happened between your departure and when the text is sent is entirely irrelevant right now. what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her and she’ll hear about it sooner rather than later anyways. 
it takes you maybe a full twenty minutes to reach your building, a feat considering how drunk you are and how obsessed you’ve been with heeseung for the last half hour. you fully expected it to take longer, but now, you stand under the golden glow of the entry to your dorm building, heeseung unlocking the door for you because you’re a little too gone right now and unwilling to take your hands off him,standing next to him, your arms hugging his free one while you lean your cheek against his shoulder. he fumbles with the key, muttering about how they should change to a keycard system instead, but he gets it eventually and you’re in.
after that, it’s practically a mad dash up to your dorm room on the third floor. your hand is twined tight around heeseung’s as you lead him up the stairs, too impatient to take the elevator right now. somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re glad that you took the time to clean your room today after class; heeseung will see a polished side of you, one that puts laundry away as soon as they’re out of the dryer, one that has glowing golden fairy lights above the window that gild your room in warmth, one that leaves books and binders stacked neatly in the shelf on your desk. not that he’ll be paying attention to any of it anyways, what with the way you can feel his cock pressing incessantly against you as you unlock your bedroom door, hot and straining.
agonizing seconds stretch into what feels like even more agonizing hours, but eventually, you get the door unlocked and guide him inside, stepping into the glow of your string lights that you’d left on before you left. you don’t even have to turn yourself around to look at him because he does it for you, turning you by your waist, pressing you fast against the back of the now-closed door.
his mouth is on yours in an instant, tongue swiping over your bottom lip, no doubt tasting the fruit punch yeonjun had added to tonight’s jungle juice recipe concoction. his hands are on your waist, curling hot into your skin, black mesh of your shirt scratching against you. it’s nice, how respectful he’s being right now, still ever the gentleman he’s been for the last month, but you don’t want nice and respectful right now. you’ve had literal dreams about this since you met him, driving your attraction to him higher with every one; you want mean and messy and rough, and that’s what you’ll get if it’s the last thing you do.
so in a bid to urge him towards where you’re really hoping this night goes, you grab at one of his wrists and drag his hand up to your chest, pressing his palm against your breast. you can feel his breath hitch against you and you smile into the kiss because how can he still be so shy when he’s kissed the breath out of you at least five times in the last forty-five minutes? either way, he gives a tentative squeeze and it feels mind blowingly good; you’ve never been one to really care much about attention focused on your tits, but heeseung makes it feel like maybe you should.
you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, one of his hands kneading at your chest, the other slowly slipping under your top, rough fingertips drawing up and down the skin of your stomach, so far gone that you don’t notice the thigh he’s slotted between your legs until he grinds it up against you. it’s sudden and so well-earned, some much needed friction that you’ve been craving since that second kiss on the deck in lambda rho’s backyard. he does it a second time, the hard plane of his thigh coming up hard against your clit, and your knees buckle a little, dropping you further onto him. you moan sweetly into his mouth, tilting your head back against the door as the hand on your waist works your hips against him with a scary but uncharacteristic practiced certainty. he takes the absence of your mouth against his to trail kisses on your neck, his teeth dragging along the sensitive skin, nipping and leaving love bites in his wake.
a well aimed grind of your hips, guided singularly by the boy in front of you, has you falling forward against his chest, your forehead pressed into the junction between his shoulder and neck. you keen against him in frustration, the crest rising but not breaking, no matter how hard to try to get it to.
“seung,” you cry against his skin, fingers curling tight into his sweater. “need more please.”
you almost sob in relief when you feel him nod against your neck, more so when you notice his own hips are stuttering against your leg that is bracketed by his. it’s enough to make you moan, the idea of him needing it just as much as you that he’s trying to hold himself back from getting off on your thigh too.
pressing your palms flat against his chest, you guide heeseung backwards in the direction of your bed (which you’re very suddenly glad you haven’t lofted). when the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he makes quick work of kicking his shoes off and then scrambling up so that his back rests against the wall. you follow suit, toeing off your party shoes and crawling onto his lap where he’s waiting patiently, his eyes wide and the browns of his eyes drowned out by his pupils. he’s breathing hard, chest heaving.
he looks up at you as you situate yourself, his hands coming to rest on your waist again. the expression on his face is nothing short of worshipful, like you’re a deity here to wrench your well-earned respect from his hands. and he is clearly ready to hand it over without a single fight. he guides you down onto him and you follow his hands willingly, your thighs straddling his and your clothed cunt just barely grazing against his hard-on until you settle down completely in his lap, not a centimeter of distance between you. the friction and pressure have both of you gasping wordlessly and heeseung tugs desperately at your hips. you fall into him, arms around his neck and pulling him to meet you halfway, lips locked once more. you give a tentative roll of your hips and heeseung moans into your mouth, just the reaction you were anticipating.
“fuck,” he moans the second time you do it. “you’re so good.”
you’re already hot, seared through to the bone, but you feel yourself go even warmer under heeseung’s praise. you’ve imagined this a million times over the last few weeks, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. you kiss him harder, breathe him in deep to prove to yourself that this is real, that heeseung lee is under you right now, bucking his hips up into you and matching your movements, about to make you come just from a little bit of dry humping. it would be embarrassing if you weren’t both half-gone and ridiculously desperate.
you continue to rut against him, panting hot and heavy into his mouth as he swallows every single moan and whimper you let out just to return them tenfold, his hands working you over him with a rushed ease. every roll of your hips is met with his own presses upwards. he’s working you higher and higher with each move, closer to the precipice, and while you’ve never before thought you’d find yourself in a position like this, if heeseung makes you come without taking a single item of clothing off either of you, then so be it.
as if he’s read your thoughts, he presses you back and away from him. you open your eyes for the first time in minutes and take him in: messy hair, flushed cheeks, bruised lips. no wet dream could have ever prepared you for how beautiful he looks right now.
but no matter how pretty you think he is in this moment, the sudden absence of friction has you whining loudly, pitched high and tight. when you speak, your voice trembles out of frustration. “heeseung, why’d you stop?”
he sucks in a breath and moves to push at your shoulders some more. “don’t- fuck- don’t wanna come yet, not like this.”
if you weren’t already so fucked out, you would have giggled, but right now, you just feel exasperated. he’s right; you don’t want to come like this either, but you’d also come to terms with it because it would mean that you would at least be getting the release you’re so desperately craving. and that’s been ripped away from you, at least for the moment. but when he looks up at you again, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes still wide with need, you fold immediately.
“tell me what you want.” he’s practically begging you and it sends a thrill through you, liquid lightning straight to your heart. “please.”
and how can you deny him when he’s asked you so sweetly or when you’re just as needy as he is? at this point, whatever he’d offer, you would take gladly. he’s gazing at you now, waiting anxiously for an answer, not that you have a set one; you want him in any way he wants you, nothing else matters more than that. but you take in his swollen lips and lithe fingers and your mind is off to the races.
“i-” you start, but stumble over your words. you’d been incredibly forward when you’d kissed him first, but you’ve lost all of that fire now. you can’t bring yourself to ask for what you want, even though you’re certain he’d do anything you’d ask of him.
“c’mon,” he coaxes, fingers kneading into your shoulders to ground you. “whatever you want.”
the sound of his voice is earnest, nothing short of honest, and it makes you want to trust him more than anything. so you do. you draw in a steadying breath and curl your hands into his sweater as you work yourself up to it.
“will you-” another breath. “would you eat me ou-”
“yes,” he immediately answers. you don’t even get a chance to finish the question. “fuck. i thought you’d never ask.”
he moves his hands to cup your face and pulls you into him, kissing you sweetly, his nose bumping against yours. the minuscule break in sexual tension, while in most situations would be a mood killer, is nice because it just further cements that this isn’t some random one night stand; you want to see him every day for the rest of your life after this, if he’ll let you.
somewhere between the kiss and when he breaks away from you, he’s maneuvered you so that you’re laying back against your pillows. you’ve also managed to discard your shirt (thank god, the glitter and mesh combo was starting to irritate your skin something fierce) and he’s working to get your pants off, fingers fumbling with the button; it’s as frustrating as it is adorable and he swats your hands out of the way when you reach down to help him, deadset on doing it himself, which he does manage (eventually, after a few incredibly long moments). you help him shimmy down your jeans and panties by lifting your hips a little and then you are inarguably bare in front of him, a position you’d never imagined you would be in.
and maybe heeseung is a little wonderstruck too because for a few long seconds, he sits there and stares at you in all your naked glory (or nearly naked glory, seeing as you haven’t taken your bra off yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind). you’re starting to get a little bashful and have to nudge him with a bent knee to pull him out of his stupor. he’s impossibly red at the tips of his ears as he murmurs a sweet apology that comes accompanied by a “you’re just so pretty.”
before you can muster a reply, he’s situating himself between your legs, hands pressing softly against your inner thighs to draw them apart, set eyes on his real destination. you lift your head just a little bit, watching as his eyes widen as he takes all of you in, his breath hot against your folds. his fingers curl tight into the soft skin of your thighs and you whimper at the sting, equally painful as it is exhilarating. he makes an indistinguishable groan in the back of his throat before he’s completely devouring you.
plenty of your wet dreams about the boy between your legs right now have included this very scenario: his nose bumping carelessly against your clit, a suddenly confident tongue making a show of licking up all of your arousal, your thighs already trembling. but they never could have prepared you for the actual thing because he’s giving you what is quite possibly the best head you’ve ever had.
heeseung is eating you out like a man starved, it’s absolutely obscene. his tongue works you up fast, every little moan he lets out only contributing. somewhere in the midst, he says something that sounds like “you taste s’good,” but his words are drowned out by your own moans and the sound of his mouth working you over. every pass of his tongue over your folds is as close as you’ve ever gotten to heaven, but you’re lacking something to really shove you over that precipice; and now you know heeseung is so whipped he’ll do anything you ask him to.
“seung,” you gasp out breathlessly, untangling one hand from your comforter so you can wind your fingers into his hair. he looks up at you, doe eyes big and wide and glimmering with his eyebrows drawn together, a questioning look without pulling away to speak. you’re about to ask him when his nose bumps hard against your terribly sensitive clit and your word breaks off before the first syllable can even leave your lips. “fuck— seung, can you— can you add your fingers?”
you’re not quite used to asking for what you want, at least verbally; maybe it’s because any previous partners weren’t keen on getting you to verbalize, maybe it’s because they never particularly cared and just did what they thought was good. but heeseung is pliant and willing to please in any way he can, so you feel less embarrassed this time around because he’s made it entirely clear that your pleasure is his main priority.
he doesn’t nod, doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes again and goes back to work. you almost think he either didn’t hear you or is straight up ignoring you before you feel it. he pulls his hand from your right thigh slowly, letting his fingertips drag lightly against your skin; the menace is teasing you, where did that come from? but you don’t even have much time to internally complain about him holding out on you because he’s suddenly slipping two fingers into you, long, deft limbs that expertly seek out that spot inside you. he presses against it once, twice, three times, each one drawing out a whine from you.
it’s just what you need, the extra friction pushing you up that incline, closer and closer to the dropoff. when your back arches off the bed and your thighs close around his head, boxing him in against your pussy, heeseung knows he’s got you right where you want to be and then he doesn’t let up. it’s an onslaught of pressure, four different points of sensation, and you’re on the verge of tears. he’s making a complete mess of you, utilizing all he can to get you over that edge. you’re whining his name like it’s the only word you know, “yes” and “fuck” and “oh my god” getting lost in your slurred speech; he’d be evil incarnate if he denied you what you’re so beautifully begging for.
he presses incessantly at that spongy place inside you, nose bumping against your little bundle of nerves, moans growing more frequent, all while his tongue tries to catch every single drop of arousal. and then there you go, ecstasy taking over like liquid heat in your veins. his name sounds like pure euphoria on your tongue, mixed with your moans and whines. he thinks he could come just from this alone, your cum in his mouth and your thighs pressed tight around him, but he holds off because there’s only one place he wants to leave his release (if you’ll let him, that is).
“shit.” 
you sound fucked out, completely gone and heeseung swears he’s never heard anything sexier. you tug at his hair a little bit, feeling completely overstimulated but still so good, a shock to your system as he pulls his fingers out of you and lets his tongue work over you just a little bit longer (to make sure you’re clean, he reasons to himself). 
eventually, he does pull away and you have to fight the urge to whine again. his eyes are unfocused and glossed over, his chin practically dripping in your arousal. hell, his tongue darts out to get the last little bit of your cum at the corner of his lips and you nearly orgasm all over again.
“was it good?” he asks softly and you barely hold yourself back from laughing. he just made you come harder than any previous partner ever has, given you the best head in the world, and he’s asking you if it was good? he’s insane for thinking it was anything short of perfect.
but you don’t say that. you reach for his sweater, fingers curling tight into the cotton and tugging him down towards you. he catches himself by his hands, his arms bracketing you easily, before he completely crashes into you. there’s a long moment where he just stares down at you, lovestruck and pretty, before he lowers himself to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you moan a little bit, feeling a little embarrassed, but one of his hands moves from its place on the mattress to cradle your cheek and that alone drives it away. 
one of your arms sneaks over his shoulder, your fingers tangling into the damp hair at the nape of his neck, while the other sneaks under his sweater, the shirt he wears underneath until the tips of your fingers brush the soft, pliant skin of his stomach. you can feel the gentle ridges of abs and a small piece of you shivers with giddiness. regardless, you enjoy a few seconds of running your fingers over his stomach before you push a little more incessantly at the offending pieces of material. he takes it for what it is: a plea to get rid of the clothes. after all, it’s not fair that you’re almost entirely undressed and he hasn’t taken a single article off.
you watch dazedly as heeseung sits back onto his heels, your eyes following his arms as he crosses them over himself, grasps at the hems, pulling them over his torso, his arms, his head before they land haphazardly on the floor next to your bed. every inch revealed to you makes your mouth water, his skin taut and soft and glowing in your fairy lights. you can’t help but remind yourself that dreams and an overactive imagination could never live up to the real thing because he’s very much the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.
you’re entirely prepared to continue your makeout session, but heeseung seems to have other ideas because once his tops are discarded, he begins making work of his jeans. you make a soft noise in the back of your throat when you realize what he’s doing and he looks up at you, fingers stilling at his belt, his eyes wide.
“is something wrong?”
he sounds so sincere, it kind of makes you want to cry. but you shake your head earnestly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can look at him better. “no, no! everything is fine. i guess i just wasn’t expecting you to take your pants off so soon.”
he quirks an eyebrow at you and dons that pretty little smile of his, teasing but not really. “well, you’re almost completely undressed. figured it was only right that i do the same, y’know?”
and you laugh a little because it’s true and because he’s just so cute, he laughs too, soft and quiet. you generally think sleeping with someone is fun, but you’ve never had as much fun as you are right now. maybe it’s because it’s with heeseung and you like him so much already, so the playfulness comes easy; it doesn’t feel tense the way it has with others.
so you watch him handle his belt, the button on his jeans, the zipper. you watch, mouth watering once more, as he slips out of them, leaving his boxers, which have a dark wet patch on them. the sight alone would make you groan, but you can see the outline of his cock and you almost lose it completely. so you decide to resume the impatient act because you are still very much so; as cute as the playful routine is, you haven’t forgotten the exhilarating rush of trying to get to your dorm as fast as possible and the unpracticed fumbling that’s followed since then.
you reach for him and he doesn’t hesitate, letting you pull him on top of you by his shoulders, fitting your mouths together in a messy kiss, all teeth and tongues. your hands are in his hair again, his own slide underneath you to make work of your bra, unclasping it and then pulling the straps away from your shoulders, down your arms, making you let go of him for a quick few seconds so that he can pull it off completely and toss it god knows where in your room.
you’re distantly aware that you’re entirely bare to him now, but his mouth is working at your throat, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin of your neck (he is strangely good at distracting you, you’re learning), so you don’t feel as shy as you did just a handful of minutes ago. either way, he’s sucking hickies into your shoulders, your collarbones, any skin that has a little bit of give to it that lets him leave love bites in his wake. so lost in the haze, you realize a little too late that he’s working his way towards your chest, but it doesn’t even matter, not when he has one hand kneading at one and his mouth at the other, tracing lines over your skin to quell the sting of each pinch, each little nip of teeth. your nipples pebble under his attention and while this never usually does much for you, you still find yourself getting antsy because it’s heeseung. everything he’s done for weeks has gotten you worked up, why would that stop now?
it doesn’t help that he’s grinding against you, his hips canting against your own for any semblance of friction. your arousal is no doubt contributing to the wet patch on his boxers and the idea of it almost has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. his cock feels hot and heavy against your folds, the head bumping against your clit, and all of it feels so delicious that you let out a crisp, high whine, twining your fingers into heeseung’s soft hair and tugging gently.
he pulls himself away from your chest and when you look at him, you almost moan. his lips are swollen, slick with spit, and his gaze has gone misty. he looks at you expectantly, blinking slow and lips pouted as he waits. you’re not even sure what you want from him right now, at least nothing specific because you want everything from him. you’re about to tell him to go back to doing what he was originally because it did feel good, but then he lands a particularly well-timed grind against you and you’re gasping.
“fuck,” you whimper, tossing your head back a little. your fingers tighten in his hair and from somewhere south of you, he laughs a little, light and easy and airy.
“that what you want from me?” he questions, pulling himself up over you, catching your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. in any other situation, it might come off as intimidating and teasing, but heeseung is all doe-eyed and halfway to heaven right now, so it comes off more desperate to please than anything. either way, you nod. “all you had to do was ask. you know that.”
you nod and pull him down to kiss you by the fingers you have twisted in his hair. he groans against you, moving his hand from your chin to your jaw, angling you just so. somewhere in the kiss, you murmur a soft, “seung, i want you,” and he groans a little, nodding against you. he pulls away and you chase after him, but he’s sitting up, moving lightning quick to get his boxers off, abandoned somewhere on the linoleum floor with everything else.
and then it hits you that you’re both completely bare. you lean back on your elbows, looking him over once more, though your focus lingers mostly on the skin newly revealed to you. his thighs are toned and sturdy, the skin plush, and while you’d love to stare at them a little bit more, your attention is quickly drawn to his dick. it’s big, the head an agitated red and leaking precum, and your mouth is watering at the thought of getting him in your position and giving him the best head of his life.
you actually start to move to do so, but heeseung anticipates it and moves quick, pressing you back into your mattress. his dark doe eyes are drowning in desire and you shudder under his gaze. he’s on you again instead, hips melded to yours in your nth kiss tonight. he’s got his weight rested on one elbow beside your head while his other arm is free to move around, his hand tracing from your shoulder, your chest, smoothing across your stomach. 
his fingers eventually land on your thigh, curling into the soft inner flesh, and he hikes it up around his waist before dropping his hand to his cock. his lips trail from your lips to your neck and shoulders, nipping at the skin as he jerks himself off. you toss your head back against your pillows, whimpering at every little graze of his teeth against your skin. 
but what’s really driving you crazy is the heat of him against you. the head of his cock bumps against your clit, this time with no fabric barrier separating them, and you’re not sure if heeseung is even meaning for the touch, but it has you feeling hot all over again, slick leaking out of you again. you’re getting impatient, heel pressing hard into his lower back and your fingernails biting into the flesh of his biceps.
“heeseung,” you whine out, canting your hips up against his; you hear him suck in a breath through clenched teeth, a hiss of air. “need you.”
he shivers against you, a teary whimper of “need you too” granted in return as he pulls his face from your neck so that he can watch you as he finally gets to what you’ve wanted since this whole thing started. on a short teasing streak, he taps the head of his cock against your clit and you whine, turning your head into your pillow and curling your fingers into his arms, which earns a laugh.
“stop playing,” you tell him, rolling your hips upwards and into him.
he hisses again and bites at his bottom lip, nodding. he slips from your clit to your entrance and even just the little shred of pressure you get has you wanting to moan out for him. but then he starts pressing in all the way, slipping into your cunt with ease and you are not prepared for just how full you feel. your back arches and he lets off a tempered moan, stifled through a lip bite. when he bottoms out, his hips flush with your own, you release a breath as you adjust to the size of him, which doesn’t take long.
“seung,” you drawl, grabbing his attention. “move please.”
and he does as you bid, pulling out before he thrusts back in. it takes a few moments for him to find a pace that works, but when he does, it’s perfect. his hips roll against yours delectably, the sounds of skin meeting skin and your shared moans filling the small dorm room. he’s shored up over you, one elbow pressed deep into the thin mattress holding him up, and when your eyes aren’t squeezed tight in ecstasy, you watch the way he bites his lip, furrows his eyebrows, shudders as you clench around him.
“god, you’re s’tight. feels so good,” he whimpers at one point, his head hanging over your own as he tries to keep a steady pace. his words are shattered, breaking off in the middle or slurred together, a verbal manifestation of how you physically feel.
one thrust hits that just right spot inside you and you can’t hold but moan loudly, back arching off the mattress and your head pressing into your pillows. heeseung inhales sharply above you as you clench tight around him and then, with you still keening, you feel him sit up, taking his warmth with him. his hands are on your hips seconds later and he’s angling you, doing everything in his power to replicate it again and again.
“fuck, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he says, one hand on your thigh and the other working deft fingers on your clit. he’s a quick learner it seems because all of it is coming together to whisk your orgasm closer, a wave of white heat washing over you. “saw you at my frat’s halloween party ‘nd thought you were so pretty. woulda come up t’you that night if i knew you felt this good.”
your breath hitches more than it has all night and you cant your hips upwards in an attempt to meet his thrusts. somewhere in the midst of your pleasure, you tell him you’re going to come and he nods fast, fingers going into overtime to get you there. that knot inside you winds up tight and then snaps like a rubber band stretched too thin, hot and fast. your pussy locks around his cock and then he’s there above you, bracing himself with his hand, to swallow the particularly sharp whine of his name you let out and any stray too-loud moans that might slip away and wake the neighbors (as if you haven’t already).
when your vision finally clears and your thighs stop trembling, his hips are still snapping into yours to seek his own release, pushing you into the territory of overstimulation, but any pain you have bleeds into pleasure until you can’t tell which is which; the only thoughts you can manage are that heeseung feels heavenly inside you that it’s almost blinding and you don’t know if you even really want him to stop. 
but his hips begin to stutter, his cock twitching against your fluttering walls, and you faintly register that he’s about to pull out of you. blindly, your hand searches for any part of him to pull him back over you, legs locking around his waist. he protests, some flurry of words about how he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable (not a single one intelligible), while you whine and pull him towards you by his shoulder.
“wanna feel you, seung,” you say, a limp arm winding around him and inching him closer until your noses are brushing and you can feel his breath fanning across you, still smelling faintly of his alcohol from earlier. “don’t worry about it, ‘kay? y’said you’d do anything, so please. i wanna feel you s’bad.”
that seems to be enough to egg him on because he nods and you catch him in a messy kiss before he groans against your lips as he finally comes. he lands a few more sharp thrusts that have you whining, fucking his cum into you, before he finally falls still. his breath is hot on your shoulder as he recovers.
usually, once you’re done, your select partner of the night pulls out, maybe cleans you up, and then leaves. it’s been a while since you’ve had someone who wants to stay (at least, you hope heeseung wants to stay) and you’re not quite sure where to go from here. there hadn’t really been much discussion about where your relationship was going to lead after this, even with all of the lingering glances on campus and your impromptu study sessions at the library, so you’re worrying a little about what comes after.
stuck in your own head, you don’t even notice that heeseung has pulled his head from your shoulder and is looking at you until his thumb works your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth and then wipes away some of the sweat at your hairline. the furrow of his eyebrows carve deep lines into the space between them as he studies you, looking like an angel with the way the fairy lights strung up above him give him a faint golden halo.
“what’re you thinking about?” he asks softly, brushing his fingers across your cheek. it’s a wholly different energy than just a few minutes ago, but the change isn’t unwelcome.
you shrug, blinking up at him and reaching to push some of his hair out of his eyes, the strands matted to his forehead with sweat. “just wondering what we do now, i guess.”
heeseung’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles a little, his shoulders shaking with a breathy little laugh. you almost punch at his shoulder for laughing at you when he cranes his head down to kiss you gently, the first that isn’t rushed in some way. he nudges your nose with his when he pulls back just a little bit.
“can we worry about all the big stuff later?” he questions; you feel the words as much as you hear them, his lips barely brushing your own as he says them. “for now, how about we clean up first and then… i’m hungry. are you?”
it’s your turn to laugh, but you nod. you’re still a little drunk, your however many cups of jungle juice compared to his measly one whiskey.
“so we clean up and then go get taco bell? it’s, like, the only fast food place still open at this hour.”
“you do know that the line is gonna be insane, right? like, half of campus goes there after getting drunk.”
heeseung lets another quiet laugh loose and sits up, pulling you up with him and then into his lap, his dick still snug inside you. the feel of it doesn’t wind you up again like you thought it might, but it’s a nice reminder that he’s here, that this all actually happened. he rests a hand on your thigh and lets his thumb trace lines into the skin there absently.
“then i guess we’ll have time to talk about what you wanna do now,” he says sincerely, the smile on his face soft.
you have so many words you want to say, a million sentences tornadoing in your head right now, all jumbled up and lacking any sense of coherency. so instead, you cup his cheeks in your hands and return the kiss from just a few moments ago. he meets you halfway, all soft and pliant and giving, everything you could have dreamed up.
“wanna shower?” you ask when you pull away, giggling when he chases after you for another kiss. “feel like it might be a little more effective than a rag.”
the boy raises an eyebrow and eyes you suspiciously. “you tryin’ to go for a round two? because that’s what it sounds like right now.”
you push at his shoulders and laugh when he catches your wrists in his hands, pulling you into a third kiss. “wasn’t my intention, but i won’t turn down the idea.”
“i’ll think about it,” he responds as he taps at your hips and lifts you off of him. his seed starts to leak out with his cock no longer there to hold it in and you feel incomplete without him, but when he stands and offers you a hand to help you out of bed, suddenly the feeling of emptiness isn’t as oppressive.
you teeter across your room, opening the wardrobe to pull out the two towels you have and your shower caddy. heeseung accepts the towel you extend to him graciously, wrapping it around his waist. when you’re done securing your own towel, he’s already waiting for you by the door, one hand on the knob and the other reaching out towards you once you get close enough to him. and then you’re two people walking down the hall hand in hand, wrapped in matching pink towels towards the unisex bathroom. it’s a little unconventional, maybe, but you don’t think you’d have it any other way.
liv probably would though, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. heeseung’s your little secret after all.
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© hoshologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.
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oh-katsuki · 6 months
Text
your cup of espresso sits untouched and cooling on the dinner table. you have it after dinner every night, one sugar cube evenly dissolved through the mixture, giving it an almost syrupy flavor that is lovely to sip. it's bitter, but the right kind of bitter, and somehow so impossibly sweet. a perfect finish to the day.
the black screen of your phone sits unobtrusively beside your wrist. you pick it up idly, illuminating it with a quick tap of your finger. a few new notifications, instagram, snapchat, texts, twitter notifications you don't care about. nothing really all too pressing.
you tap to open up your contacts, scrolling and coming to a stop at his name. gojo satoru with a little red heart beside it.
at first, you only tap on it to look. it's not really like you had any plan to text or ring him. you just wanted to look at his contact card, maybe stare for a few minutes at the smiling, half ugly photo of him set as his contact picture. you're in the background of it, grabbing his upper arm to get his attention. it's a photo from a work meetup and nanami took it. somehow, it's come to mean a lot more to you than just a contact photo. you sigh, contemplating the phone call and then, without much fanfare, you click the button.
it rings in your ear as you put it up to the side of your head. your heart pounds in your chest, waiting for the ringing to come to a stop, maybe to hear his voice. it's been a long while since he's answered your calls though and you let out a humorless laugh as his voicemail plays.
"hey, you've reached gojo satoru. sorry i missed your call, i'm just soooo busy—" someone interrupts him, "hey can't you see im recording my voicemail message?" there's a small noise and then he's back, closer now. "—anyway, leave a message at the beep and maybe i'll call you back."
he'd set it in high school and his voice is a familiar and delightful higher pitch. you'd always told him that he needed to change it to something more mature, but he'd always blink at you and give you the same answer.
"who the hell would be calling me?" he'd say. "think i'm applying for another job or something?"
and you could never really argue with it. sure, you could've told him that it was immature, but at the end of the day he was right. it's not like he'd ever planned to change professions and professional conduct meant fuck-all when he was the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.
"hey," you start, clearing your throat, "it's me again. i don't know why i thought you'd actually answer my call this time, just sort of felt like you would. it was nice to hear your voice though, even if it was your voicemail message."
you run your finger along the grain in the wood of your table, tracing its intricate pattern with a light touch.
"i made that strawberry shortcake thing today." you're not really sure why you're telling him that. "you know, the one with the cream instead of frosting. it was good, kinda hard to make the actual cake though. the house smells good now. but yeah, i had a day off for once so i just sort of... hung around." you can feel your bottom lip growing raw with the way you chew on it between sentences. there's not really a reason that you called him. nothing particularly interesting has happened to you, let alone anything he'd care about, but you just felt like talking. still do, even if it's to his voicemail box, and you continue speaking into it about your day.
you like to think he couldn't be bothered to answer the phone. lazy, in some way, to answer your needy call. you like to think that maybe he'd seen the call, his phone ringing on the counter, from where he was in the shower. he'll listen to your voicemail and call you when he's out and dry to ask about trying the cake, maybe.
"would have been nice to see you. it's been like... two months since we've met up. i know you're probably busy though. doing whatever it is you do on the weekend, not that i really know anymore."
the kitchen light suddenly seems too bright, casting its artificial yellow glow down on the center of your table. you reach up to rub your temples. there's a dull throb beginning behind your eyes and in the bridge of your nose. it's almost like you're about to cry and as you sniffle quietly into the receiver, you can feel the swell of emotions as it rises in you.
"i really miss you, satoru," you say with a defeated sigh. "i know i probably sound like a broken record and that your phone storage must really be taking a hit, but i do. you probably get a kick out of knowing that though," the laugh that comes from you is muddled as your nose begins to run, and you reach quickly to wipe it. "wish you'd call me back. or come home, maybe. it's funny, i keep thinking that you'll come in the door any minute and the feeling never really... stops."
you clear your throat again, putting your tongue in your cheek and steeling your nerves a little.
"well, i'll let you go now," you swallow, laughing a little like the statement is silly. he's not really on the phone. it doesn't matter all that much how long the voicemail is. "stop before the voicemail lady cuts me off. but yeah, i just wanted to call. i keep hoping that you'll pick up. who knows, right?"
there's a short pause and then you inhale, straightening your back.
"i love you," you say. "always have. i'll call you tomorrow too, so... yeah. i love you, satoru. bye."
you pull your phone away from the side of your face, clicking the end call button a little too quickly before putting it face down on the table. it's comforting to call him, but it hurts too. there's always the hope that he'll answer. that by some miraculous turn of events, the ringing will stop short and he'll draw out a hello in a pleasant tenor hum. of course, he'd know exactly who's calling. satoru always did.
maybe you'll pay him a visit tomorrow, say all of this directly to him, though you haven't had the courage yet to visit that little stone plaque. it's a little too hard, for now. it's easier to think that he's ignoring your calls than incapable of answering them all together.
someday, his voicemail will fill up and you'll have to confront the truth. it will fill up, you'll be greeted by the voice mailbox full message, and there will be no one on the other end to clear it.
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vintagestarlight · 6 months
Text
Couple's Trip
Summary: you and John take a trip for your anniversary and John has a very special question to ask
Pairing: John Price x gf!reader
Words:~ 2.0k
Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks :3), MDNI!!
A/N: so this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I finally finished it! Probably the longest fic I’ve written and I’m not sure how I feel about it(I feel like I’m better at writing fluff pieces rather than spicy ones maybe?)but let me know what yall think! I’m working on another Price fic and a Soap fic so stay tuned! :)
A/N: As always likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback of all types are welcome and my inbox is always open! Hope you guys enjoy!!
***beware of typos lol
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Your mind wandered as you zipped your suitcase shut. John announced you were taking a trip for your anniversary and refused to tell you where. "You'll find out when we get there love," he said with a laugh after you pestered him to tell you. You walked downstairs and set your suitcase by the front door.
Through no fault of his own John wasn't always around for your anniversary. He always tried his best to to have his leave coincide but it didn't always happen. Usually you just had a nice dinner at home or John would surprise you with flowers; both of which you enjoyed. Needless to say you were shocked but excited when John told you he had a few weeks leave and had something big planned.
"Hey hon, remember to pack your toothbrush this time," you said, doublechecking to make sure you had everything. "You forget it every time," you mused. "I'm not going to forget my toothbrush dove. And I don't forget it every time," Price argued; he checked his suitcase and realized he forgot. He went to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush to pack it away without telling you.
"Are you ready love?" Price asked. "I want to get going," You noticed your boyfriend seemed to be acting weird. He was very fidgety and it wasn't like him at all.
"You okay?" You asked. "You seem anxious to get going,"
"Yeah I'm fine love I just want to get there before dark," Price replied, taking the luggage outside. He loaded the suitcases into the back of the car and slipped his hand in his pocket. His fingers brushed against the velvet box resting in his pocket. "Well if we want to get there before dark we should get going," you called out and shut the door behind you, locking up the house.
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You noticed the scenery started to change from hilly landscapes to dense woods. You started to get excited about what was at the end of your little road trip. The car turned on to a cobblestone stone driveway that led to a beautiful cabin overlooking a private lake surrounded by trees. "Oh John this is beautiful!" You said, looking out the window. "How did you know about this?" You asked. "An old mate of mine offered to let us use it for the week," he smiled watching you try and take it all in.
"This whole place is for us?" You asked, wondering if you could possibly see everything in just a few days. Price squeezed your thigh. "Just us," he said, parking the car. "Here love," Price stated. He fished in his pocket pulling out a set of keys. "Here's the keys to the cabin. Why don't you go take a look around, while I unload the car" he suggested.
You smiled and took the keys from him walking up to the front steps. You unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The living room was decorated in a way you would expect a cabin to be decorated. A large sofa facing a tv mounted on the wall, a large red rug in the middle of the floor, an end table with a lamp beside the couch, a tv stand, large fireplace, and a chandelier made from antlers adorned the living room. There was also a full kitchen to your right when you walked in.
You made your way to the stairs and found the master bedroom. A king size bed was the centerpiece of the room with a wool blanket draped over the end. The curtains were drawn and a soft light emanated from a lamp sitting on a bedside table.
Your footsteps were hushed by the soft carpet as you walked to the bathroom. The master bathroom was beautifully decorated in finished wood and white accents with a big claw foot tub; definitely big enough for both you and John. A window that faced the lake and woods let in a nice breeze and you couldn't help smiling, the fact it was yours for a few days finally setting in.
You came down the stairs just as John set down the last of your luggage. "So? What do you think?" Price asked, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him. "It's perfect John!” you smiled. "It's so beautiful," you planted a kiss on his lips.
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Over the next few days the ring Price carried around burned a hole in his pocket. He tried finding the right time to ask you but everytime he tried he got nervous. He was the Captain of the most elite special forces team in the world and he couldn't even ask you to marry him. He sat at the edge of the dock, his fishing pole in his hands. He looked at the water waiting for a fish to bite and thinking about how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. If only I could just ask her. With a frustrated sigh, he got up to stretch his legs still holding the fishing pole.
These few days seemed like a dream to you. Getting to spend this time with John was something you didn't always get to have. You noticed your boyfriend's behavior was somewhat off. He was anxious and fidgety when he's normally the calm and self-assured one in the relationship. You saw him sitting at the dock fishing and you smiled to yourself. His behavior may have changed but him fishing certainly hadn't.
You opened the front door and started walking down the cobblestone path the sweet air warming your skin. You saw little firefly's glowing in the garden flying around. "Have you caught anything yet?" You asked, siting down in a lawn chair with him standing holding his fishing pole. John glanced over and saw you wearing one of his army green t shirts and a pair of sleep shorts; he felt his heart skip a beat and his cock swell embarassingly hard despite the spirited romp in the sheets a mere few hours prior. For some strange reason, it made his thoughts drift back to the little box still tucked away in his pocket; he carried it with him everywhere since they got here. He still couldn’t believe he had trouble asking you a simple four-worded question. It was almost laughable that something so simple had the Captain racked with anxiety. The man who was feared just as much as he was respected in the field. What if you said no? What if you didn’t actually love him and this was the push you needed to leave him? He grimaced as his thoughts got more and more out of control.
“No I think I missed most of them,” he muttered and turned his attention back to the water. You furrowed your eyebrows; something was up with your boyfriend. Not much fazed the 6’2” Brit so to see him so lost in thought worried you. You got to your feet and wrapped your arms around your lover; your hands dipped underneath the shirt he was wearing and felt the dusting of wiry chest hair. You ran your fingers down the strong expanse of his chest and abdomen following the happy trail that disappears into his waistband. “What’s wrong hon?” You asked. “Nothing is wrong I’m fine love,” He grumbled. “You’ve been acting strange for the past few days and that isn’t like you,” You persisted. "I want to know what’s bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right?” You reassured him. John shifted his attention from the still water to you and tried to think of what to say.
“Do you…still love me?” He asked with uncertainty. “Would I have let you put me in those positions if I didn’t?” You teased, referencing the previous bedroom escapades. Seeing his face didn’t change, you realized he was serious. “Of course I do. Why would you think I don’t?” You asked. “Well…sometimes I can’t help but think you’ll wake up one day and come to your senses and leave me for someone who actually deserves you,” He sighed. It felt foreign to him to talk about his feelings but you made him feel safe enough that he could. You always brought out the best of him and it was one of the many reasons he wanted to marry you. “John Price, I am never going to leave you,” You told him, placing your hands on his muttonchops, framing his face. You hated it when he talked so badly about himself. “I love you so much and you deserve everything,” You said, gazing up at him. “Even if I am a grumpy old man?” He asked. “Yes even though you’re a grumpy old man,” you teased. “Hey! Easy now,” He said in mock annoyance. You placed your lips on his, capturing him in a heated kiss. You felt him kiss you back and the tension from his shoulders melted away. He groaned and pressed your bodies together, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. He chuckled quietly when you whined as he pulled away. “In that case, there’s something I need to ask you,” He slipped his hand into his pocket while dropping down onto one knee. It’s now or never Price. He told himself. Your eyes went wide and filled with tears as you realized what was happening. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He asked, hoping, no silently begging, for you to say yes. “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you John Price,” you cried.
******
“FUCK!” You screamed. The headboard practically hit the wall with each harsh thrust from John. The room was filled with obscene yet erotic sound of panting and skin slapping against skin. “Fuck you’re taking me so well love,” John panted out, taking a glance down to where your cunt practically swallowed his cock. The sight drove him mad and he let out sounds he didn’t know he had in him. Those sounds he was making, the breathy groans and whimpers almost made you come then and there. “Fuck John!” You panted, feeling yourself get closer with every snap of John’s hips that hit perfectly inside you. John could feel you squeezing him like a vice and he knew you were close to coming. He grabbed the head board and pushed your legs to your chest to better plow into you and get as deep as he could into your pulsing cunt. “That’s it love,” He breathed out, his pace unrelenting. “Come for me love, come for me,”. John’s voice sounded strained as he focused on making you come before he did. You keened as you felt yourself go over the edge, coming on John’s cock. You squeezed him so tightly he swore he saw stars and came deep inside you, thick ropes of white staining the inside of your cunt. John rested his forehead against yours, strands of his hair sticking to the sweaty skin. You felt the sheer sheen of perspiration that had covered your own body begin to dry and cool off the longer the two of you stayed in each other’s embrace. "You okay love?” He asked, still out of breath as you both waited for your heart rates to slow. “More than okay,” you smiled lazily. Price gingerly pulled out his softened cock and walked to the bathroom, you admiring his bare ass as he walked away. John used a warm wash cloth to gently clean you up before grabbing a celebratory cigar and lighting it. You watched and admired his naked body as he poured himself a glass of scotch from the decanter sitting on the small table in the room before sliding back into bed with you.
You and John lay slightly tangled in the sheets with your head resting on his chest and his arm around you, relishing in that wonderful, hazy post sex daze. You couldn’t help but stare at the ring on your finger and smile; John was your fiancée and you could hardly believe it. “Careful now or I’ll think you love the ring more than me,” John’s deep baritone voice reverberating in his chest. “Well the ring is pretty great. And all I have is an old man,” you teased, looking up at him knowing he just proved himself to be anything but an old man. Your remark earned you a playful pinch on your ass. You squealed and laughed, swatting his chest playfully.
“Don’t worry Mr. Price I only have eyes for you my love,” You said, planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you,"
“I love you too soon-to-be Mrs. Price,”
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