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#this is all i can manage for fluff tonight the angst will come later i promise
youphoriaot7 · 1 year
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The crows are a well-known attachment to Quesadilla Island. Nobody's exactly sure quite how they got there, nor why there's so many of them—they're just there. They don't seem to intrude, and so everyone simply goes about their day. It's normal, now; just like the bear that checks in on them, just like the eggs they care for.
They seem to especially gravitate towards Philza. He can always be found with at least ten or twelve scattered around—his shoulders, his hat, his cape... They tend to gather most frequently near the Wall, perching on every visible surface. The top edge of the Wall often looks black, every inch of it covered with feathers.
So when the crows are gone, it's noticeable.
Philza's absence hasn't gone unnoticed, of course. Chayanne and Tallulah have mentioned his departure, heading out to explore the outer edges of the island, looking for...something, he didn't mention what. The fact that they've been hanging out with Tubbo and Niki also proves it.
But the crows were the most noticeable.
Slowly, they start to gather...elsewhere. A small group starts a nest in the tower of Cellbit's castle, and he stares at it in confusion for a few days before he shrugs it off. Let them stay; they're not bothering anyone. Another flock takes shelter under the overhang near Forever's presidential office. He grins every time they fly up to the windows. A couple of stragglers find comfort in the quiet of Chume Labs, flying along after the current lone inhabitant and cawing in concern. Pac shrugs them off, trying not to read too much paranoia into it.
Tubbo finds himself swamped with the birds; Niki, too. They guess they're following the children, which seems to be correct, at first glance. (But it's more than that.) Some flock to Bad, others to Foolish—the two groups cawing and chirping whenever their chosen followees' get into spats. Roier catches sight of a couple hanging around Rivers' base, and smiles brightly when he gets back home to see some of his own nearby.
Mouse waves them off for a few hours before sighing—it's certainly not the worst thing in the world, even if they keep accidentally landing where she's trying to work. Jaiden lets them land on her wings, grinning and talking to them as she moves around her day. Etoiles and Antoine aren't quite sure how to react at first—but it's no weirder than anything else they've been dealing with recently, so it's probably not a worry, and therefore, not a concern.
When the children vanish, the crows get anxious. They spend more time away from their makeshift roosts: cawing at the Wall as they fly by, pecking their way across the roads of the main square, shrieking at every passerby in the Favela. They're looking for something—information, the kids; it's not clear what. But either way, their presence is heard.
One day, when the Wall feels taller than ever before, there's a loud rustling of feathers reaching every corner of the main square. The birds' noises are deafening; it's barely possible to hold a conversation unless you move further away. And when the island's inhabitants look up, they see them there—the crows, returning to their original home. There's a figure, as well, standing amongst the potato fields, staring down at the world below him.
Philza Minecraft has returned, and the crows are at home.
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likeumeanit9497 · 4 months
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please baby | c. s. |
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
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summary: chris and y/n have always had what felt like a perfect relationship. that is, until a few weeks ago. chris had been treating y/n poorly, and after one especially hurtful conversation, she is forced to make a difficult decision. when chris comes to the realization that he is about to lose it all, will he swallow his pride and do what he needs to win her back?
warnings: established relationship; smut; angst; fighting; (relatively) toxic chris; crying; unprotected sex; fluff; 18+
notes: based on this request by 🎀. i've never rlly written an angsty fic before, so let me know what u all think! also wrote this super quick so i don't think it's my best work, but still i hope u enjoy <333
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Through tears, I stared blankly at my phone. My eyes had been glued to my lit up screen for the past two minutes — unmoving, and unable to register what I was reading. Even with blurry vision, Chris’ last message to me was seared into my memory.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Just as my brimmed tears finally spilled over, so did the water I was boiling on the stove. The immediate steam and sizzling noises pulled me from my phone, and frustrated for more than one reason, I raced over to the stove and shoved the pot off of the element; leaving the boiling pasta noodles to sit in the water. Just looking at my failed attempt at dinner brought on a new level of pain, as it was a reminder of what I hoped that the night could be.
Chris, my boyfriend of almost one year, was supposed to be coming over tonight. I had been super excited, because both of our schedules had been especially busy lately and we hadn’t been able to spend much time together over the past three weeks, plus I had some good news to share with him about my work. I had wanted to make the night special, so I had decided to cook one of Chris’ favourite meals — chicken alfredo — to surprise him with once he arrived.
He was currently stuck at the warehouse for a merch meeting with Nick, Matt, and his manager, and he had told me that he would come over and spend the night once he was done there. That was a few hours ago, and I had been patiently waiting for an update from him until about thirty minutes ago, when I sent him a simple message asking if he had any idea when he would be done at the warehouse. Little did I know, that singular message would cause a massive storm to erupt.
Y/n: hey babe! just wondering if you have an idea on when you can come over?
Chris: Not rlly sure
Y/n: okay…rough estimate maybe?
Y/n: just have some things i need to get done before u get here hehe
Chris: I’ll get there when I get there.
Y/n: uh..is something wrong?
Chris: No why
Y/n: ur being kinda mean???
Chris: No I’m not
Y/n: ok
Chris: My god Y/n I don’t have time for this rn
Y/n: i just said ok
Y/n: you go ahead and go back to your meeting
Y/n: i was just asking for an update, that’s all.
Y/n: didn’t realize that was such a horrible thing.
Chris: Ffs Y/n, just shut up. I said I’ll get there when i get there jesus.
Even though I hate to admit it, this wasn’t the first time that Chris had been an absolute asshole to me lately. Just last week, he had started a fight that ended with him hanging up the phone on me; only to call back a little while later to apologize. And then a few days before that, he had put zero effort into making time for me when I had tried to make plans for us to go to the movies. And during all of this, he has been incredibly dry over messages. It had been bothering me for a while now, because to me it was clear that he was losing interest. I knew that our relationship would be far from perfect going in to it, considering Chris had never been in a real relationship before me, but deep down I hoped that it would always be as perfect as it was at the beginning. Unfortunately for my hopes and dreams, his actions — or lack thereof — were shattering.
I wasn’t some oblivious girlfriend either; it was clear to me that Chris was going through something. I knew that for a fact, but every time I tried to get him to open up to me about it all, he shut me down with lame excuses: “Oh, I’m just tired,” or, “I’ve just been stressed lately”. I figured that he just needed time, and that eventually he would come to me and explain exactly what had been going on so that I could help him through it.
But now, after his hurtful words to me tonight, I was seriously considering my other options. I had been in far too many toxic relationships in the past, and had learned that I deserve more than what I had been accepting. I wouldn’t let myself be Chris’ punching bag anymore, and I knew right then and there that I had an incredibly painful task to do.
Allowing myself to be overtaken by my build up of tears, I slowly walked into my bedroom; turning off the lights and covering myself with my comforter. My shoulders heaved as I let the tears stream down my face; my brain accepting what I needed to do but my body rejecting it in every way possible. Through the tears, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Chris — telling him that I was tired and that he might as well not come at all tonight, but we should talk tomorrow — before curling into a ball and wallowing in my own sorrows.
I stayed in the exact same position for what felt like ages; allowing myself to get all of the emotions out now so that when I had to do what I had to do tomorrow I could do so without breaking down so hard. Eventually, my tears slowed and I felt my burning eyes begin to grow heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake me, and as I gave into my exhaustion my mind filled with scenes of the nightmare that I was going to have to face tomorrow.
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I was startled out of my sleep by the sound of keys jangling from the direction of my front door. Disoriented, it took me a moment to be overtaken by the feeling of dread that came from hearing that noise. The only person who had a key to my apartment was Chris. Before, hearing his keys at my door filled my stomach with undeniable excitement — now, my stomach did anxious flips knowing what had to be done.
As I heard the door open and close, I rolled over so that I was facing away from my bedroom door and glued my eyes shut; pretending to still be asleep. I heard his soft footsteps on the other side of the door as he wandered through my dark apartment, before a hushed “shit!” broke the silence. After a few moments, I listened as his footsteps grew closer and closer to my bedroom door, and as I heard it slowly creak open, I braced for impact.
The room stayed silent, though I couldn’t really say that for sure since I couldn’t hear anything above the sound of my own racing heart in my ears. I did my best to stay completely still, though it felt like every part of my body was vibrating; waiting for his next move. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my mattress as his body leaned against it, and physically jumped at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder; shaking it gently.
“Y/n, wake up.” He spoke in a faux whisper, and, even though I had been pretending, I felt my body grow hot in anger that he would have the audacity to wake me from my sleep after showing up to my apartment uninvited. However, my body still not understanding that it wouldn’t belong to him much longer, I shot up from my place on the bed and searched for his eyes. The room was pitch black, but I could sense exactly where he was in front of me.
Rubbing my eyes, I searched the bed for my phone, checking the time to find that it was already nearly 2 a.m. I felt the mattress shift once again and watched his faint outline as he sat on his side of my bed. “Y/n, you left the stove on.” He was still whispering, and his sentence ended in a slight chuckle; clearly oblivious to the decision that I had made on my own just hours before.
Too heartbroken to really care about the stove, I shrugged my shoulders. “Whoops.” Was all I said to the silent room. “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of making dinner or something?” His voice was still light-hearted, and was far from a tone that matched his previous texts to me. It made it so difficult for me to remember what I had to do.
“Turn the lamp on please.” I said simply, using every ounce of strength in my body to keep my tone monotonous. Chris stayed still for a moment, clearly thrown off by my behaviour. “Uh, okay.” He finally said as he leaned toward the bedside table closest to him and switched on the warm-toned light. After allowing my eyes time to adjust to the sudden brightness, they immediately fell on him.
Oh, my Chris.
His beautiful blue eyes were so kind and bright, his long hair was wet and messily draped across his forehead, and his matching oversized sweat set made me want nothing more than to curl into him and breathe him in. He stared at me blankly for a moment, clearly beginning to register that I was upset, before finally speaking. “I’m really sorry about earlier, baby. I had been in the meeting for hours and was getting really stressed out.” I felt the lump in my throat begin to grow. Some variation of that exact sentence had been the same excuse he had given me each and every time he had hurt me over the past few weeks, and it had lost its sincerity long ago. So, instead of giving into his cheap apology, I sat up in my bed and faced him; taking a deep breath before speaking.
“I have to tell you something. And I need you to let me say this without interrupting, or else I’m scared I won’t be able to go through with it. I’ve had to say this for a while now, and now that we are where we are I know it has to be done. So please, let me say it, okay?” His light eyes were focused intensely on me, he was clearly trying to figure out where this conversation was going. But finally, he swallowed before tentatively nodding his head. “O-okay.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my lower lip quiver as I tried to find my footing on this conversation. After taking a shaky breath, I finally found my voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Immediately, my attempt at getting all my tears out of the way earlier proved to be a failure; because as soon as the heavy words left my mouth I broke down into sobs.
Over my crying, I heard Chris’ disbelieving voice. “What do you mean you’re done with this? With what? Me?” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, clearly being hit with the same emotions that I was. I stayed silent — my eyes screwed shut as I wrapped my arms around my torso; doing my best to comfort myself. “Y/n, please tell me what you’re talking about.” He pleaded, and I felt him scoot closer to me on the bed; placing a hesitant hand on my knee.
After catching my breath, I wiped my tears away and opened my eyes to find his frantically searching my face like an uncertain creature. “I know you’re going through something right now,” My voice was coming out nearly silent, but I continued, “And I tried so hard to be there for you, I really did Chris. But you won’t talk to me! Instead, you’ve been taking out all of your frustrations on me and treating me like absolute shit. Do you really think that’s okay?” I fought the lump in my throat as I got my words out, his shattered face no help in that department. Frantically, Chris shook his head. “No. No, it’s not okay, baby, and I’m really sorry. But please, please don’t do this.” His tone tugged at my heart strings as his desperation grew more and more transparent.
Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I shut him down. “Can you tell me why you’ve been acting the way you have?” I knew my question was pointless before I even asked it, but his silence confirmed it. Releasing an ironic chuckle, I continued. “I promised myself that I would never let another man treat me badly. I’ve put up with it far too many times, and no matter how much I love you, Chris, I can’t allow you to speak to me the way you have been lately.”
I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink at his ghostly expression, clearly on the verge of losing his shit. I brought a hand up to his cheek and stroked it for a moment, and as I did he closed his eyes and let a few tears fall. “I want you to get better, I really do. But I clearly can’t help you, so you need to do it on your own.” My own words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t help the tears as they streamed down my face. “Come to me when you’ve worked through your shit, and we can see if we can repair things. But for now, I need you to leave.”
At that, Chris’ eyes shot open in a panic and he immediately grabbed onto my leg. “No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this.” I turned my head away from him as his desperation became too much to bear. His hands traveled across my body in anguish, clearly losing all control of his emotions as the reality of our situation began to set in for him. His body slid off of the bed as he dissolved into tears against my comforter. Still having the instinct to comfort him, I scooted towards the edge of the bed, where I let my legs stretch out beside him as I ran my hands through his beautiful curls.
“Please, please baby, I swear to god I can’t do this shit without you.” He wretchedly pleaded with me, clutching my leg and trailing distressed kisses along it. I looked up at the sky, too pained by the scene that was playing out in front of me. “Chris, please, I need you to go.” I begged him, needing to put him out of his misery so that I could hurt in private. He maintained his grasp on my leg, sobbing inconsolably against it. I gave him a moment, in which he slowly began to regain control of his emotions. I watched as his sobbing grew quieter and his breathing slowed, before finally watching as he pulled himself up to his feet; the weight of our conversation evident in the way he held himself weakly.
He glanced down at me quickly, his blue eyes red and puffy, before turning away in what looked like shame. In utter silence, he turned and began walking slowly in the direction of my bedroom door. With his hand on the door knob, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His words were so quiet I could have easily missed them, but the sincerity cut through my heart like a knife. That sincerity hadn’t been present in any of the other apologies he gave me, and I was gutted that it appeared too late.
And then just like that, he was gone. I felt all the air leave my chest at the realization of what I had just done, and let my body fall back against my bed as tears once again poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but immediately question whether or not I had done the right thing. Was I a horrible person for abandoning the man I loved when he was so clearly dealing with something? Did I allow my fears of repeating my past distort my current reality? Were the things he said to me really that bad?
I was pulled out of my tormenting thoughts by a soft voice coming from my doorway.
“My meeting today wasn’t about merch.”
That was all that he said. That was all it took for my heart to begin to beat for him again. One small hint of vulnerability. Feeling humiliated internally, I sat up on my elbows and found him hovering in the doorway. “Talk to me about it Chris.” I sounded exacerbated even to my own ears, feeling frustrated from all of the overwhelming emotions that the evening held. Tentatively, he walked over to the bed and sat beside me on the edge, arms resting on his knees. After clearing his throat, he began to explain. “The meeting today wasn’t about merch, it wasn’t really about anything to be honest.” Confused, I waited in silence for him to continue.
“A few weeks ago, Laura brought up the idea of going on another tour. A European tour.” He paused for a moment. “Nick and Matt immediately agreed and wanted to start planning everything so that we could do it this summer, but I said I didn’t want to do it.” I watched the back of his head, slightly shocked by his words since I knew that he had enjoyed the previous tours so much. “We would be overseas for a month, and I didn’t want to be so far away from you for that long. So I told them I didn’t wanna do it.” He took a deep breath. “Now, Matt and Nick are super pissed at me. They’ve both been giving me the silent treatment for weeks outside of the few times when they’ve just tore me a new one. And sure, we’ve all fought before, but never this bad. It’s been going on for so long, and I feel like I’ve lost sight of everything without having them be there for me.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and I fought the urge to cry along with him.
“Things have gotten so bad between us, that Laura forced us all to come in tonight to basically have a supervised argument. We sat there for hours, Y/n, just screaming at each other. And we got nowhere. I stood firm in what I wanted and so did they, so that’s why it went on for so long. And that’s also why I have been treating you like a complete dick lately. Because even though you had no clue what was going on, I think a part of me was kinda blaming you for all this shit. And I know that wasn’t fair, I really do. I just didn’t know how to tell you all of this because I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
He turned to look at me, grabbing at my hand that was lying dormant in the space between us. “And I’m so, so sorry that I treated you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it. At all. But please baby, please don’t leave me. Because if you do, I will be completely lost. You are my anchor, and I need you to be there for me.” Tears rolled down my face as his voice cracked in desperation. “And I swear, baby, I won’t treat you like shit ever again. If you can’t believe me, and if you’re really truly done, I’ll understand. But please, Y/n, if there’s any part of you that believes me, please don’t leave.” He dropped his head into my lap, wrapping his arm around my waist and gripping onto my oversized t-shirt. Out of instinct, I brought my hand to his face and began stroking it softly; wiping away his tears as I did.
We stayed that way for a long time, both of us sniffling, heaving messes. I couldn’t lie, his honesty truly impacted me. I knew that he had to have gone against every single one of his instincts to finally tell me what had been going on in his life, and the fact that he did meant so much to me. I knew that Chris was extremely reliant on his brothers being a constant in his life, and couldn’t even imagine how lost he must feel knowing that they’re against him. His problem was much more severe than I thought it would have been prior to him opening up, and I felt an overwhelming amount of empathy for him. I knew that his poor treatment of me — as wrong as it was — had been completely out of character, and as I sat there stroking his soft cheek, I decided that I would believe him.
“Come up here.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Immediately, Chris lifted his head off of my thighs and sat up, his face inches from mine. Without a moment of hesitation, I leaned forward and engulfed his lips with my own. He immediately reciprocated, and both of our tongues worked in unison to lap up the salty taste of each other’s tears. Chris leaned forward, encouraging me to fall back against my pillows as he continued his passionate assault on my lips. His mouth travelled down my neck, where I shuddered as I felt him place sucks and nibbles sure to leave a trail of purple bruises. His body was warm on top of mine, and I had never before felt so present with him; so aware of his every movement.
He moved down my body, stopping briefly at my chest to remove my shirt, before continuing down below my waist. With his tongue, he created a path from just below my belly button to my right hip bone, where he left another purple bruise; causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. Lifting my hips, he wasted no time in pulling my boy shorts off of my body and leaving me completely bare. He continued to leave gentle kisses along each square inch of my body surrounding my core, but making sure to leave the place where I needed his mouth the most completely untouched.
I began to grow impatient, my body temperature increasing as my body filled with arousal. As he placed a kiss on my inner thigh, I bucked my hips up in frustration; practically begging for contact. Noticing my agitation, Chris almost immediately obliged, and I gasped out in pleasure as his tongue began working its magic against my clit. With each hand holding up my thighs, Chris swirled his tongue relentlessly against my bundle of nerves. I struggled to keep my body still as his movements continued, and failed miserably once he inserted two of his fingers into my core. “Fuck Chris, t-that’s so good.” I moaned out as his tongue and fingers worked my cunt in harmony. The wet sounds of my arousal grew louder and louder as I began to approach my orgasm, and in reflex my hands tangled in his hair; doing everything I could to keep him exactly where I needed him.
“Gonna cum, baby.” I cried out, and his encouraging hum against my clit was enough to get me there. My back arched off of the bed as my body began to convulse. To keep me in place, Chris took his free hand and placed it firmly on my lower stomach; causing me to scream out in pleasure. His mouth and fingers continued to push me through my orgasm, and didn’t stop even after my nerves became over sensitive. “C-Chris please. Can’t take anymore.” I struggled to get out the words, but he listened. Detaching his mouth from my core, he dragged his body back up my own and came face to face with me.
With the glean of my arousal still on his lips, he kissed me so deep I felt my lungs inflate. I could taste myself on his tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head from the intensity of the moment. I broke the kiss for only a moment to pull his hoodie over his head; relishing in the feeling of his bare chest against my own. Through his sweatpants, I could feel his bulging member press against my pelvis, and I reached in between our bodies and pulled his waistband down along with his boxers. Now completely free, his cock dribbled pre-cum down my stomach. With my hand still between us, I collected what was left of his fluid along his slit before slowly stroking my hand up and down his swollen shaft.
His breath hitched as I continued my movements, and he thoughtlessly bucked his hips into my hand to increase the friction along his trembling member. My hand twisted around his dick for a few more pumps, before I slowly guided it down toward my entrance. Once Chris felt the heat of my core at the tip of his cock, he looked down at me with darkened eyes — still slightly puffy from his previous tears — and dropped his jaw as he began to slide into me.
I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his sizeable girth, and released a breathy moan as he bottomed out. Laying on top of me, he grabbed both sides of my face in between his hands and held it firmly as he began thrusting into me. His eyes never left mine as his hips rolled into me, and I watched in ecstasy at the pleasure visible on his face — as I’m sure he was doing to me. Our bodies smacked together in a steady rhythm and the wet sounds filled the room, adding an additional sensation to my arousal.
“I-I’m so sorry, baby.” Grunted Chris through deep thrusts. “It’s — oh fuck — it’s okay Chris.” I replied as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Just please — please tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded desperate and choppy, most likely caused by a combination of arousal and real distress. His choice of words and the tone at which he said them caused my stomach to do a flip, and I felt my second orgasm approach. Fighting the urge to give into the overwhelming feeling, I reached up and swiped his glistening lip with my thumb. “I’m yours baby, always.” I managed to respond through my cries of pleasure. Chris smiled down at me lazily before burying his face in my neck; leaving sloppy, breathy kisses along its thin skin.
My walls began to pulse and my skin started to feel like it was being lit on fire; both clear signs that I was extremely overstimulated as I was approaching my orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum again.” I blurted out just as I was hit with a tsunami of an orgasm. My legs tightened around his waist and my nails dug into his arms as I fought to keep my head above water, but my mind grew fuzzy as I spewed guttural profanities into the room as I came in waves.
It didn’t take long for Chris’ orgasm to follow, and that was made clear by his throaty grunts and sloppy pace before he stopped entirely; shouting breathless 'I love yous' into my neck as his cock shot its warm fluid deep inside of me. He eventually pulled out, before curling two fingers into me and shoving all of our conjoined juices up to my cervix. His eyes stayed glued to my cunt as he did so, seemingly in awe of the view.
“You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” He said it so quiet that he might have just been saying it to himself, before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the crest of my heat; earning a full-body flinch from me.
He came back up to the top of the bed where he laid down beside me, pulling me towards his chest and running a hand up and down my naked back. I felt so secure in his arms — his familiar smell filling my nostrils and calming my mind — that I nearly forgot everything that had happened prior to the past 15 minutes or so. That is, until he spoke.
“So, are we okay?” His voice was tentative, and he was very clearly afraid to hear my answer. I uncurled myself from his body so that I could look up at his lovely face, his desperate eyes scanning my poker face for any sort of hint.
“You will never, ever, speak to me like that again, no matter what.” I kept my voice firm, even when his face immediately relaxed into a grin. “I swear, I won’t baby.” He responded, trying to tuck me back into his chest, but I pushed back slightly. “And, I need you to talk to me about shit you’re going through, Chris. I’m your girlfriend. That’s my job. You need to promise me, you will come to me about anything, and I will do everything I can to help you through it.” He continued to gaze at me, though his wavering eyes and his chewing on his lower lip made it clear that the idea made him anxious. “Promise me, Chris.” I repeated, making it clear how serious I was.
Finally, Chris nodded his head. “I promise, baby. I’ll tell you everything.” I smiled, then, finally feeling secure in our relationship for the first time in weeks. “Then yes, we’re okay.” I responded before planting a soft kiss to his pink lips. “And you and your brothers are going to be okay, too.” His worried expression deepened at the reminder of his conflict with Nick and Matt. “We’ll talk about it more tomorrow once we get some rest, but we can make the tour work. You know, I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.” I watched as his lips began to turn up into a soft smile. “Plus,” I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind being your groupie.”
He dissolved into giggles at that. “But what about your job?” He asked tentatively. I shrugged. “I actually got promoted today. I was gonna tell you earlier, but y’know.” His face fell momentarily. “I got a raise, but more importantly I got more benefits. Including thirty vacation days.” His face lit up once again, and it was almost like I could see the weight lift off of his shoulders before he attacked my face with kisses. “So let’s have another meeting with Laura and your brothers tomorrow and work this all out. I can come, and we can fix this easily together.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded his head before kissing me hard. “I love you, Y/n.”
I curled myself back into his chest and sighed, taking in the feeling of him mindlessly drawing random shapes on my back. This was the Chris that I knew and loved, and I knew that this is who he really was. He wasn’t perfect, but I never expected him to be. Problems come with every relationship, and of course there was never any guarantee, but I had a feeling that this night would vastly change our relationship for the better.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
1K notes · View notes
faithisyours · 2 months
Text
Can’t Imagine Losing You
Azriel x Fem!reader
Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.
Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!
“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”
You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.
“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.
“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.
Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.
You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.
Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.
It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.
You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.
You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.
You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.
You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.
“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?
“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.
“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.
You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.
Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.
“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.
“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.
You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.
“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.
“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.
“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”
He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?
“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.
“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”
His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.
He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”
You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.
Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”
His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.
He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.
“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.
“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.
Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.
You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.
“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.
“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.
You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.
You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.
“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.
“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.
You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.
He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.
He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.
“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.
You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.
You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.
Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.
He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.
“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.
You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.
Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.
Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.
“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.
Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.
“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.
“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.
Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.
You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.
Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.
You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.
He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.
“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.
Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.
“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.
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nnight-dances · 4 months
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EVERYTHING
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PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x f!reader (ft. wonbin)
GENRE: angst, fluff toward the end
TROPES: established relationship, model!jeonghan, singer-songwriter!reader, jealousy, paparazzi interference and rumors, and so on.
NOTE: this was hard to write so bear with me and let me know if there's anything that absolutely sucks about this lol... i love jeonghan but he's so hard to write (maybe it's because i'm the most not normal about him)... anyway this plot is kinda inspired by a real life fight i had with a friend who i have ambiguous feelings so do with that what u will :) enjoy!!!!
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"thanks, love," jeonghan mumbles into your cheek when you hand him the wallet he'd forgotten at home this morning. even in the dim moody lighting of the room, you can see he's genuinely happy to see you when he pecks your cheek. you smile and press your hand into his, "how bad was today?" 
he hums, "not too bad if i don't think about it too hard."
it's not out of the ordinary for a successful model like jeonghan to have the mind-numbing schedule he has but you can't help hurting for him anyway. "i'm sorry, babe," you squeeze his fingers and he nods in acknowledgement. he's too tired to say much most days so you've gotten accustomed to interpreting his silences. 
you were part of a band known for its jazzy music and you were its lead singer and song-writer, which meant it couldn't be helped that you had written more than a few love songs dedicated to yoon jeonghan, your lover of over two years now. in that time, you'd found a good beat with jeonghan, spending a good four months with both your heads' deep in work and only the nighttime spent in each other's arms. sometimes, jeonghan's international presence meant a few weeks of not even that. and as your band got bigger, you took on tours that only took you further from jeonghan. but after a rocky summer, came the breeze of fall. 
fall meant downtime for both your jobs, a time you could easily retreat and while the rest of the world turned vacation mode off, you would travel with jeonghan, whether it be across the world or just along his skin on a rainy weekend. it was easy with him, even when it wasn't. 
but recently, you'd found yourself wondering if it really was that easy still. tonight you're performing at this club, a local presence known for its hosting of musical influences, and jeonghan managed to escape his impossible day to watch you. you should feel loved, grateful for him, but when it's your turn to perform, you feel yourself drift away from him.
onstage, even as you introduce yourself and your band members, your eyes are on him. but he seems so far away. he watches you, not a smile on his face, just familiarity. as if he'd memorized all that you had to say, as if this was another box to tick on his long day. you clear your throat to steady your mind and open the first song, "this one's called heavy." it was an old song, perhaps one you'd only performed before you met jeonghan. which would explain how hopeless the melody was, how uncertain your voice got throughout, and scarily enough, how much you found yourself relating to it now, so many years later. 
after the song's over, you glance at jeonghan and he seems as stoic as ever, clapping in encouragement but without any mirth. you sigh, "woah, sorry to bring the mood down like that," you chuckle a little when the crowd laughs, "um, anyway, this next one's much happier, i promise. it's called loverboy… after my one and only, well, boy." you laugh again and spot jeonghan smile, too, all the way at the bar and your heart thaws a little, allowing you to get through the song without thinking again about how cold it felt in the room. 
you get through the next two songs without a hitch, perhaps because you let yourself go on autopilot mode and restrict yourself from even looking at jeonghan for your own sake, and come down with a heavy sigh. your bandmate, yves, touches you on the shoulder with a frown, "you good, y/n?" you nod, "yeah… i'm just tired. or something." she pats you on the head, "don't think too hard about things, dove. just let go. or something." you laugh at her witty piece of advice and thank her as you head for jeonghan, naturally. 
he wraps you in his arms when you find him, plenty kisses on your neck, "my girl did so well." 
you let out an uneasy groan, "i don't know, han, i feel like i was lame."
jeonghan pulls away with a frown, "no, you weren't. you were amazing. although that first song caught me off guard. it's been a while since you performed it."
"yeah… it was my decision but it felt right," you shrug. jeonghan's eyes take on a gravity you don't like when you say that so you avert your gaze, "but more importantly, when can we go home so i can get out of this dress and sleep?"
a year ago, jeonghan would've gone, "i'll help you take it off right now, love," but now he agrees solemnly, "i think we go as soon as everyone's focused on the next set." 
you know it's stupid, you do, to dwell over the details of your relationship this obsessively. but honestly, once you start there's just so much to pick at. to start, you felt more distant from jeonghan than ever, as if there was something unsaid in your way just keeping you from getting back close to him. and you hate it when things go unsaid. but you also knew jeonghan didn't care for spelling every little thing out, he could settle for a little discomfort till ignoring it was enough to make it go away. 
but that was just it, you couldn't take it anymore. you'd had a few fights with jeonghan in the past and they'd all come down to the fundamental differences in your natures. you liked for everything to be said and thought out, especially if either of you felt hurt or unheard. jeonghan liked silence, just simple gestures speaking a million words and routines in place to reaffirm your love. you knew it was better his way, simpler and easier, but you'd lived his way and now, you find yourself suffocating in the same bed as him. 
you stir away from him, rolling off the bed and onto your feet, and make your way to your makeshift studio, closing the door off incase jeonghan gets curious. you can just say you were working on a new song. once in, you throw yourself against a bean bag, head heavy in hands. 
"god, this is stupid," you mumble as the tears roll out. you spiral almost immediately, thinking back to everything that went wrong in the past few months. for one, jeonghan was away for your 25th birthday, for the whole week, and though you'd spent it surrounded by your friends and his apologetic gifts, you couldn't talk the bitterness away. then, he'd been mad at you when you told him your tour started during the week he had off, calling you a "workaholic" because you'd rather work than go with him on the beach trip he'd planned. it was unfair, he'd admitted later, but not after you'd spent the whole week of your tour crying yourself to sleep. 
to add to it all, were the recent rumors in the news about jeonghan's brand new 'mistress', a japanese model called nana. even before the first article came out, he'd called you outright, telling you his agency had caught a reporter in japan pestering nana if she was anything to jeonghan. that had only dullled the pain you felt when you read it, pictures of jeonghan and nana posing for a cover shoot. and it wasn't the first time jeonghan had looked absolutely stunning beside another person, far better than you'd looked with him in all the paparazzi snaps that circulated the net when questioning if you were still in the running for the attractive model. 
it wasn't the first time and yet, thanks to your already strained relationship, you felt more hurt than usual. this was also the longest scandal yet, ongoing past four weeks, perhaps because of jeonghan's frequent visits to japan. it really got you thinking how there were so many reasons for the two of them to be in the same room. 
– 
jeonghan, alone in your shared bed, inevitably wakes up, confused when he doesn't feel you. "y/n?" he calls out, hoping you might just be using the washroom, but the lights are off and there's no sound in the bedroom. "my love?" he calls out louder, propping himself up on his elbows. when he hears no response, he falls onto his back with a weary sigh.
there was something up with you. you'd been acting… distant since the past two weeks. you'd pull away from his kisses a few beats too soon and wake up long before you had to. he wondered if he should ask you because he knows that's what you'd want but whenever he got to sit down next to in full seriousness, he'd go weak, missing your presence when he was away. 
he pulls out his phone, skimming throught the texts that had accumulated over the few hours he was asleep. there's a few from nana, the model he was rumored to be having an affair with. 
nana: another stupid article :( 
jeonghan sighs at the link she'd forwarded him. in full honesty, he'd all but developed a good friendship with nana while in japan, where he'd been previously lost without a good guide telling him where to go. given all his staff was korean, they could only be as useful as a google search. nana, however, had taken up to herself to show him the local spots, the shopping district where he'd been able to secure gifts for you, anticipating your needs before you'd known them.
you know all this, of course. jeonghan had offered to break all ties with nana if it bothered you but you'd been insistent that he keep his relationship with her, especially when it kept him sane abroad. 
you'd said you were fine, so how come you weren't next to him, mumbling sweet nothings into his chest like you always loved to? when you couldn't sleep, you would wake him up with your persistent kisses, apologizing when he did finally come to, but then talking about everything in the world from your outfit tomorrow to your plans in the next five years. 
"are we…" you'd started one night but then stopped, going hot and hiding your face into the pillow.
"are we what, love?" jeonghan pried you off the pillow and onto his arm, pushing his face close to yours so you couldn't run. 
"are we serious, han?" you finally asked, quietly. "you know, like, long-term serious?"
"hmm, let me think… i don't know we've only been dating for 20 months so i wouldn't get your hopes–"
you hit his chest with a muffled giggle, "you know what i meant!"
"i don't, really?"
you avert your gaze, "are we ever gonna, you know, be married? have kids? that kind of thing…"
jeonghan's heartbeat had sped up despite all his nonchalant facades and his face disclosed his flustered state causing you to go redder. "it's- forget about it if it's not something you've thought about–"
"of course i've thought about marrying you, doll," jeonghan asserts, arm around your waist to stop you from flailing around, his fingers draw circles on your exposed stomach. "of course i want to be committed to you for life, y/n. and don't even get me started on kids. i know it doesn't seem like it because i'm such a cool guy but i'm crazy for kids–"
"no, it's pretty obvious, you basically lose your head everytime we see a couple with a newborn baby–"
"okay, well, there you have it. i want kids with you, y/n."
you mull over his words in silence for a moment and then, "not now though, right?" you say, "we're both too succesful in our careers to… start a home."
jeonghan palms your cheek lovingly, "i think what we have right now is already home. but you're right, i think we ought to wait some more time. till it feels right."
till it feels right, he'd told you and now he kind of regrets it. he should've asked you to marry you right there so you'd never have a reason to doubt your relationship ever again. but again, that too was just a dream. 
– 
jeonghan was off to japan for a week. yet again, you think, holding your tears back on a sunday afternoon when you wake up to a resounding silence in your home. you need to find a way to make things right, you know. you need to talk to jeonghan but honestly, your head hurts so much you'd rather just forget all about him.
that's why you find yourself crashing at yves' place for the next few days, her house known to be a hub for lost souls and good music. you spend your afternoons working on new music, inspired by your new surroundings, writing about everything but jeonghan and as soon as it hit seven, you'd be helping yourself to martinis, thanks to yves' well-equipped bar. 
you were amid making yourself a drink while yves went over some notes and recordings you'd made this afternoon when she sat up with a weird look in her eyes. "y/n?"
"what is it? is it horrible?"
"no, it's not that. it's just… this feels like a different person," she comments, finger scrolling through your lyrics. "like a younger version of you? it has the same lonely vibe to it. i'm a fan of it to be honest, but i'm just wondering… is everything good?"
you chuckle, "yves, you ought to have known that if i'm here for an extended period of time, nothing is good… but i appreciatey you asking. i'll be fine, eventually." 
your friend is lost in thought for a while and you sip your drink when her phone pings with a message. she reads it and turns to you with a glint in her eye. 
"so… does that mean you'll go clubbing with me tonight?" 
– 
if you were gonna embrace a younger self, you might as well do it all, you thought, putting on a dress you'd loaned from yves. it was shorter than anything you'd worn recently and a light pink you never naturally gravitated towards. but you had to admit, it did look quite good on your figure when you looked in the mirror. you embellished your eyes with glitter, lining your eyes with mascara and a thin wing at the ends. 
the club itself is nicer than you'd expected and you're glad you'd dressed up as much as you did, pursing your lips to make sure the lip gloss you'd applied was still intact. yves pulls you to a table with her friends, some of them mutual to you, others complete strangers to you. either way, they're all fun, welcoming you without a question. 
one of the familiar faces is wonbin from a contemporary band known for its unique take on house music. he immediately materializes by your side when you've downed your first shot of the night, large grin overtaking his face. "you're here?" 
you tilt your head at his question, "i am! it's weird, isn't it?"
"a little," he shrugs, "you stopped coming out with us after you got swept up with that pretty model boy of yours."
you grow a little uneasy at the mention of jeonghan's name, "yeah, well, i thought it would be good for my music if i reconnected to my past a little. let myself live a little."
wonbin smiles, "that's nice, i love that. and to that," he brings out two more shots, handing you one, "cheers!" you hesitate for a moment but then catch yves looking at you encouragingly, and clink glasses with him, downing the drink in a go. 
that's all it really takes for you to let go. your body finds the music's rhythm faster than anyone else in the group so you take to the dance floor, and wonbin follows you, telling yves he'd look out for you. not that you need it. 
it's been a few songs that you've been dancing around, with wonbin's body getting closer to you with each time. you blink when his hand is at your waist, and you clear your throat, "i'm gonna go get some water!" wonbin grabs a hold of your wrist, "i'll come with!" 
it's a little uncomfortable, the way he's following you around, but you reassure yourself it was only for good intentions. a few more songs you keep yourself close to yves and her friends, feeling wonbin's presence heavily on your shoulder, but then you're a few more shots in and it doesn't really matter. 
it's only when you return from the bathroom when things go awry. it starts with your phone blowing up with texts and a call from jeonghan. in the loud music of the club, you can barely think, let alone talk to your boyfriend who you'd been ignoring for a week so you decline. when you make back to your table, your phone goes off again. jeonghan again. 
before you can register how odd it is of him to double-call you without good reason, wonbin's pulling you over next to him. you sit with a groan, "wonbin, i need to take this call–"
"y/n, you need to look at this. it's about jeonghan and that japanese model–"
yves cuts wonbin, "wonbin, get the fuck off her!" she tries to pry his arm off you but you find yourself unmoving when you catch jeonghan's figure on screen. he's laughing next to someone, a girl– oh, it's nana. she leans in close, a little too close, and you're not sure if it's your spinning head, but she keeps on getting closer, close until her lips are on jeonghan's and–
"i feel sick," you exclaim suddenly, clutching your stomach. wonbin's strong arms are around you in a moment and yves can't fight him off when he leads you through to crowd, weaving through the impossibly long line to the bathrooms. despite everything, you're thankful for him when he holds your hair up when you throw your guts up, tears mixing with the alcohol in your system. 
when you're done, you ask yves if she can take you home and she's already ready with your bag over her shoulder. 
"y/n, wait!" wonbin stops you, hand on your elbow, "can i talk to you for a sec–"
"wonbin, please, you've done enough, she needs to go home–"
"go home to what exactly?" he questions and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your knees with the sobs that wreck your body, "i'm here for you, y/n, if you ever need–"
down in your bones you know jeonghan better than anyone, know he would never be the kind to cheat on you, to ever leave you for the wolves like this. but honestly, the news ring out louder than anything in your head. "yoon jeonghan with ito nana, confirmed? was his little singer-songwriter girlfriend just a joke?" 
that's how you feel right now. little. and like a joke. you simply nod at wonbin and turn around to leave the club before the music can suffocate you any more. 
"i'm sorry, y/n, i didn't think he'd act up like that–"
"it's okay, yves, you didn't do anything," you tell her and look down at your phone at the photo of jeonghan that shows up every time he calls you. it was one you'd taken on your very first dates, of him sitting prettily across the table with a chopstick in each hand. 
"you should talk to him, y/n," yves pats your back, "you don't have to go back to him but you have to hear him out, right?"
you sigh, "you're right." 
you accept the call as yves leads you to a silent corner and gives you some space as she goes off for a smoke. you hold your breath when you hear jeonghan's voice. he sounds distraught.
"y/n? love?" 
all you can do is sigh to delay your tears. "hey," you say coarsely and jeonghan's losing his mind. 
"baby, can you stay where you are? i'm on my way, okay? i… i don't know what you've seen but you know it's not the truth. okay? just," you hear him run into someone and apologize. was he running to you? that would be crazy. "just let me talk to you."
you take a deep breath, "i'm waiting here." 
you don't question how he found you, it's likely your location on life360, a feature you'd added a year into your relationship just to know where the other was. just in case. 
you hadn't opened the app in a while, there hadn't been a reason. even if you knew where he was, he'd be far enough that it didn't mean enough. 
it takes a few more minutes before you hear jeonghan's voice on the sidewalk outside the club. he's in a white shirt that's been untucked from his pants. he's disheveled, and you can only wonder why. 
"y/n," he says, out of breath, sweat beading his forehead. 
"did you run here?"
"the car was stuck in the traffic so i told my driver to catch up," he inhales deeply, "i had to see you." 
"and why is that exactly?"
jeonghan sighs, "love, i think we both know why. that clip of nana kissing me probably found you by now?"
you look at your feet, "i saw it. i thought you guys were just friends?" you pause and before jeonghan can speak, you continue, "or was that just a lie silly little me believed?" 
jeonghan's hands find your shoulders, "there is absolutely nothing between me and her. i thought my platonic feelings were reciprocated because we'd been normal for so long. but then today, she… she kissed me and i realized that was me being stupid." 
"of course she was into you," you mumble. 
"i'm sorry, i really am. not just for this but for the past few weeks. or more than at. i don't know how long it's been but i feel like i haven't been putting you first."
"jeonghan, you have to know that it just sounds like you're overcompensating so i forget about the nana stuff."
"there is no nana stuff," he tells you, "and if you must know, i was always planning to come home a few days earlier. you've been so cold lately and i thought i could surprise you. but then you stopped responding to my texts and i found out through your bandmates you hadn't been home in a week. i got worried and in my head."
"i admit, i let nana distract me, but as nothing more than a friend. because when you're gone, i also lose my closest friend. i have no one but you to talk to you, love, i can't trust anyone, not after today. and i'm so sorry that i don't talk to you more, that i don't address problems as they come up."
you feel weaker than ever, head still down as tears roll down. "y/n? are you crying? baby, look at me, please."
"han, i really don't know what to do anymore," you finally break out, letting him take you into his arms, "i've been so miserable without you. i… i can't do it anymore." you take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. 
"you're so good at accepting changes and moving on from little fights. but i'm crazy. i get stuck in a spiral for days over the little things and after your scandal started, i… i can't help but think they're right." 
you pull away to look jeonghan in the eyes, "maybe i'm not the right one–"
"no," jeonghan cuts you off with a hiss that surprises both of you, "i will not have you think the stupid crap they're writing in the news, okay? you're my love, y/n, you're my everything. seriously, did you not hear me? i don't care about anyone else like i care about you. god, i'm stupid for not having married you when i had the chance."
"han, i don't know, i'm so tired," you rest your head against his. "can we go home for now?" 
later that night, you sit side by side with jeonghan on your side of the bed. you've taken your shoes off but not your dress. "is that a new dress?" he asks lowly. 
"i borrowed it from yves," you reply, adjusting the straps to sit right, "does it look fine?"
you feel like you're in a liminal space with jeonghan right now. you haven't broken up but you're not sure if everything's back to normal just yet. funnily, it feels like the first few months of getting to know him. he has the same boyish nervousness about him as his hand reaches out to brush your hair out of your face. 
"you look so good i'm mad i didn't buy you this dress," he says, "or that i didn't get to dance with you in it." 
you sniff, "i wish you'd been there tonight." and after a moment, "i wish we weren't so different."
and then again, "i wish we were the same person so i could know your thoughts inside and out without having to bother you." 
"it's not a bother, i'm just bad at it," jeonghan says, "and i don't wish we were the same person. because i love how different we are. i have so much fun with you, learning your ways and fighting with you."
"fighting is fun?" you ridicule him.
"only in retrospect, of course. i never want to see you look as hurt as you did tonight." 
he reaches out for your hand and you let him, intertwining your fingers. he places your joined hands against his lips and then back into his lap. "i love you, y/n. i love you more than everything."
"i thought i was everything?" you ask through a half-concealed giggle.
"don't tease me when i'm being vulnerable, love," he whines, "i'm serious. i'm sorry for making you feel so ignored all this while. it was never my intention. everything i did, i did because i'm stupid and still learning. but i always want to be with you. i want to spend everyday with you." 
"i love you too, han," you kiss his shoulder, "i'm sorry, too, for being so closed off. you don't have to feel so bad, it was partially my fault too."
jeonghan stands up, pulling you up after him. before you can ask him what's wrong, he hugs you tight, breath soft on your exposed back. your arms find his waist, rubbing his back in a reminder of how much you love him. slowly, you're not sure who starts it, you both start swaying to no song in particular, just to the rhythm of your heartbeats. he twirls you around with a smile and kisses your forehead. 
"on that note, my love," jeonghan stills you, tiptoeing across the room to his bag, ruffling through before finding what he was looking for. it's only when he gets on a knee that you comprehend what's happening, "i know i haven't been the most promising husband material but i promise, it will only get better from here. i've made the mistake of not doing this earlier and i can't wait to make you mine forever. so, y/n, will you marry me?"
with that, he opens the black box in his hands, revealing the precious diamond ring inside.
you've never fallen to your knees faster, taking his hands in yours, "yes, of course, i'll marry you, han! i–" you fall short of words when you look at the ring in his hands, "i had no idea you were planning on– god, i'm– i love you, han."
"part of the reason i wanted to come back faster was to do this," he tells you softly, slipping the ring onto your finger, "to finally propose to you." 
"finally?" you question, sensing some hidden meaning behind his words. 
"well, i have had this ring for a year now. i considered getting a newer model but this one was just too gorgeous." he takes your left hand in his, "and it looks prettier on you than i could have ever imagined."
"a year?" you ask in disbelief, "han! you– why didn't you tell me?" you feel stupid really, knowing how long he'd planned on marrying you for real. his love for you looms over you and you can't help but feel lightheaded. 
"because i didn't think it was the right time yet. i was wrong about that, of course. any time is right with you. i just needed to make you mine." 
you throw your arms around him, tearing up again, "yoon jeonghan, god, you make me crazy."
"so is that a good crazy, as in you'll write happy love songs about me again or… as in i make you want to scream and shout?"
"honestly, a bit of both," you laugh against his shoulder, "and about the happy love songs… i think you should know but i wrote some really depressing songs while you were away. yves loves them so they'll end up on the next album but i know you don't necessarily like them so–"
"what are you talking about? i love all of your songs."
"han," you kiss his cheek with a smile, "you don't have to lie. i know you feel weird about them. and that's okay. but i hope you know, i'm in a different space when i write those, and i will continue to write those. but they don't reflect the truth in any way, okay?"
he narrows his eyes, his lips pouty, "you mean to say i'm not good enough for you to make you happy for the rest of you life?"
"that is not what i said, babe, and you know it," you laugh again, letting him pull you onto his lap. he kisses you once and then twice. "if you say so, love." 
you spend your first night engaged to jeonghan the best way possible: talking to him. you lay down next to him, in your pyjamas, feeling fuller than ever. he tells you everything he'd thought or done in the past few months, scrolling through his camera roll for reference and kissing you whenever you'd have a giggling reaction. when it was your turn, you pulled up your notes app with lyrics from the past few months and read some select ones out for him.
"oh, oh, and the way i was gonna introduce this one was like this," you clear your throat as if taking on your stage persona, "this one's called no one's prettier because no one's prettier than my boy." 
you fall into a laughing fit with jeonghan, a slight blush on his cheeks when he pulls you close, "someone's down bad for me, huh?"
"yes, sir, i am," you say back, smugly, "i love my boy, sorry, my fiancé so much and i just can't shut the fuck about him."
"god, say that again."
"what? that i can't shut the fuck up about my pretty fiancé? my adorable loverboy? my honest and reliable husband?" the last word feels so right on your tongue when uttered for jeonghan, even though you'd never said it before.
"you're my everything, love," mumbles jeonghan with a big smile, kissing you sqaure on the mouth. 
"...so the past few months have been a rough trek for the band," you speak into the microphone, looking onto the solemn crowd with a soft smile, "and when i say the band, i really just mean me. i think i aged by like ten years." the crowd laughs. 
"but i came out stronger, and more engaged than ever," you wiggle your left hand at the crowd, throwing a smile at jeonghan at the front, watching with a smitten grin. "so here's a new song i wrote. it's called everything because my love is everything to me." 
when your set ends, you rush to jeonghan's arms and before you can ask him he'd liked the new song, he kisses your hands. "that was perfect, love. i've never felt more seen by a song." 
you let him shower you with kisses as you walk him through the lyrics a little. you're in the middle of explaining the bridge when you're interrupted by a call of your name. 
"y/n?"
you turn around to find wonbin standing before with a rose in his hand. "oh, hi, wonbin!" 
jeonghan doesn't do anything to hide the dislike on his face for the man. after all, you'd told him about everything that happened that night at the club and had barely managed to calm him down after. "hey," he nods at jeonghan who simply raises his brows at him.
wonbin glances at jeonghan's arm around your waist and sighs. "congratulations on your engagement, y/n," he holds out the rose, "and i'm sorry about everything that happened with us. i hope you know it's only because i have nothing but admiration for you. and maybe one day–" 
"thank you for your kind words, wonbin," jeonghan cuts him off, taking the rose and handing it to you with a small smile. "but we need to be going somewhere. sorry. see you around. maybe at the wedding?" 
as you walk away from wonbin, you chuckle at jeonghan, "didn't know you were still worked up about that guy?"
"of course i am! he tried to take advantage of you in a hard time! i'm just too pretty to get into a fight or i would've thrown hands long ago."
you laugh as you kiss him on the cheek, "right, of course. my baby, let's go home." 
486 notes · View notes
daemour · 5 months
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Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn
Word Count: 10,664
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences
Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything
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this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.
hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up
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“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.
“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”
As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”
San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”
You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”
San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”
He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.
In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.
You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.
With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.
It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”
“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”
You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”
San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”
You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”
You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.
You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.
-
“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”
You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”
San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”
Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.
“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”
“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.
“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”
“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”
San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”
You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”
San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.
You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.
But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.
“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”
You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”
Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”
“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”
Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”
You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.
-
“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”
You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.
San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”
You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”
San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”
You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.
“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?
You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”
“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”
No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”
“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”
“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”
“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”
“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”
You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.
When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”
The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.
You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.
-
After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.
He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”
Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”
Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”
You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”
“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”
You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”
Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”
“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”
“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.
Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.
“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”
You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”
You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”
Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.
With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.
You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.
You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.
And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.
It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.
The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.
Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.
You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.
-
Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.
You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.
It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”
Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”
At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”
Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.
You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.
“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”
You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.
-
Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.
Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.
But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”
Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”
Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.
“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”
“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.
“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.
And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”
Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”
Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.
“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”
You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.
San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”
There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”
Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”
“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”
Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”
Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”
Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.
With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.
-
“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.
As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.
“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.
“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.
“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”
You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”
You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”
He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.
When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”
With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”
San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”
Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”
As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”
You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”
“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”
San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.
“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.
As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.
-
It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.
You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.
“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”
Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”
You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”
Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”
You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you���re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.
It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”
“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.
He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.
When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.
“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.
Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.
“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”
“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.
“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.
You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.
As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.
“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”
-
“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”
Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”
“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.
And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”
With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”
Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”
San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”
With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”
San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”
You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”
San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”
“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”
You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.
You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”
“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.
“No–”
“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”
Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.
And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.
You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.
With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.
“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.
“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”
A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”
You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”
There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”
You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”
Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.
He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.
“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”
San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.
“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.
-
When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.
“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.
“That would be nice.”
San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”
“I love you.”
His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”
His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.
And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.
“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”
You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”
You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.
“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.
His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream
His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.
When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”
“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.
When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.
He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”
You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”
You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.
With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.
His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”
San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”
You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.
“Answer me, YN.”
“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”
“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.
If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.
“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”
After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.
This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”
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wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt. 1
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paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan, college au word count: 6k summary: hooking up with a stranger at a party is fun when said stranger is a tall, attractive philosophy major whose name you don’t learn until weeks later. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (female and male receiving), a lil butt action but nothing too crazy
ao3 link can be found HERE.
“You’re a new face,” remarked the rich, husky voice belonging to the stranger who had just approached you. In a house party that was relatively packed, you thought you were blending in by sticking to the wall and enjoying your solo cup full of unlabeled liquor. And yet, here was the approaching figure of a man so tall you had to crane your neck to face him, knowing nothing about you and yet still managing to observe how out of place you seemed.
“That obvious, is it?”
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing about you, per se. It’s just, these things are usually pretty tight-knit; the same people come every time. So when someone’s new, you notice,” he tells you, his slow, calm way of talking making you feel relieved and deeply curious at the same time. “Do you go to school here?” 
You nod your head in confirmation, though it feels foreign to do so when parts of you still feel more like a visitor than a student. “I just transferred here.”
He smiles hospitably at this, gesturing his arms out towards the room of people who surround you. “Welcome to our vibrant community. Please enjoy your stay. Refreshments are in the back and the ice machine is down the hall.”
You giggle genuinely at him and the sort of clumsy, awkward way his words seem to land on you. He’s the kind of person you were expecting to meet when you transferred from your rural state school to this smaller liberal arts college. There’s something almost dorky and strange about him, from the way he dresses in an oversized cardigan and big round glasses to the way he holds eye contact with you for what you deem longer than normal. And yet, his self-assuredness is crystal clear to you. It’s at this moment that you acknowledge to yourself how attractive you find him.
“Did you come here with someone?” he asks you, his posture changing so that he’s leaning into you just slightly.
“Yeah. My roommate is here somewhere—” you gesture aimlessly around you, “—probably getting tongued down in someone’s bathroom.”
At this point, you had been fighting off the inclination to assume that the man in front of you was chatting you up for any reason outside of sincere curiosity. But his intentions are made crystal clear when he replies, “Yeah? Care to follow suit?”
You laugh both out of amusement and shock at his forwardness, and even he seems taken aback by his own candor as he smiles in a sheepish, apologetic sort of way. Still, the way that his piercing dark eyes never seem to cease their burning into you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he meant every implication embedded in that response.
“You know, you never told me your name,” you point out, not sure why you are prolonging what feels like the inevitable moment tonight when you’ll find yourself tangled in bed with the handsome man in front of you. Perhaps you’d just like to talk to him for a little bit longer, enjoy the gratification of his attention. Or maybe it’s just fun to tease him and watch the way his eyes crinkle in bashful embarrassment.
You’re pleased when he seems no less interested in you even as you divert from his advances. In fact, he perks up at your observation. “That I did not. Call me pretentious, but I like to think that learning my name is a privilege.”
You show your disinterest in this notion with a scoff, something the stranger seems to take in stride. “Is a man’s name not all that he has in this world, from birth to death?” he asserts with a prideful smirk.
“Philosophical. That your major?”
“How’d you know?”
You’re starting to feel a little scared with just how much you’re beginning to love the sound of your overlapping laughter. When it dies down, you bask in the brief moments of silence where neither of you knows what to say next and instead just stare at each other’s faces in an almost innocent, child-like way. It’s so different from what you’re both feeling inside, anticipation and lust and desire swirling in a mix that makes your bodies feel charged.
“So since you’re not telling me your name, should I tell you mine?”
“Only if you feel I’m worthy of it,” he replies. The game that he’s playing confounds you but you see no harm in playing into it, something tantalizing and freeing about not being bound to the expectations of each other’s names.
“That, my friend,” you reply, “is yet to be decided.” You raise your hand to push against his shoulder, surprised at how sturdy the skin under his cardigan feels. He ricochets dramatically against the force of your hand, and when his body returns to yours, it’s closer than before. He rests his hand on the wall just above your head, the way he’s angled making him appear even taller than he did before.
“You know, I was exploring this house earlier, and there’s a room in the back with a comfortable-looking king-sized bed,” he says, words that would sound fuckboyish and crude if anyone else said them, but come out dorky and amusing when he does, especially when his next statement is, “And the entire time I was in there, all I could think was, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to pillow fight with?”
You smile, the expression mirrored on the stranger’s handsome face as he watches you react to his off-putting way of flirting. You decide to help him out by being more direct. “Are you asking me to pillow fight with you, stranger?” you ask, voice tilted in your best attempt at sounding seductive.
“Only if you’d be willing, stranger.”
When your roomate convinced you to go out with her tonight, you were intrigued by the notion of getting to know this new campus community, plus the always-tempting chance to get a few drinks in your system. You weren’t thinking that you would be in this position, about to hook up with a guy who won’t even tell you his name. 
You’ve been feigning confidence up until this point, an easy enough task when the man in front of you is good-looking and talkative. But now, as you prepare to follow him with the pretty certain chance of having sex, you have to finish off the remnants of your drink first, allowing the heat of liquid courage to wash over you like a warm blanket.
“Lead the way,” you tell him, taking the hand that he offers you before being led through the crowd of partygoers.
He takes you into a bedroom that’s on the ground floor, allowing you to settle in in front of him as he takes heed to lock the door. The bass from the loud music outside vibrates against the enclosed walls of the room. You’re grateful that it’s not completely silent, otherwise this would feel more awkward. 
“See,” the stranger says, walking over to face you. “I wasn’t lying about the king-sized bed.”
With the way he’s standing over you, combined with the looming implications of what you’re about to do – or rather, what you’re about to let him do to you – you’re too anxious to laugh. Instead, you stare at him, waiting for him to make the first move.
“Do you like to kiss when you hook up?” he asks you, straight-forward and to the point. You like that. You’ve never understood people who don’t like to kiss those they’re having sex with. Is the act of kissing somehow more intimate than letting someone inside you?
“Depends,” you reply, already moving to cradle the side of his face with your hand. “Are you a good kisser?”
He doesn’t answer verbally, moving instead to lean in so that your lips meet. Everything about this man feels like a paradox. Your interactions thus far have felt innocent, awkward even, and yet they still led to you following him into a stranger’s bedroom with the intention of having sex. And now, though his looks and the way he carries himself feel so clumsy, the way he kisses you is intense, all-consuming. 
He wastes no time trying to build up to something intense. Without pretense, his tongue is invading the wetness of your mouth, forcing your lips open as an audible whimper of surprise spills out. One of his hands comes up to lace itself into your hair, and in another act that surprises you, he pulls on it so that your faces come even closer. You’ve never found the taste of liquor on someone’s lips more addicting than you do now. 
You pull away to find a smirk on his lips, cockiness written all over his expression as he asks, “What do you think?”
It’s hard to conjure up any words when his hand is still in your hair, tipping your head back so that his eyes can comfortably rake over your face and particularly linger on your reddened lips. “I think I really, really want you to fuck me,” is what you manage, and even if you were the type to feel shameful at such remarks, it would be hard to when your words visibly light up his handsome expression until he’s kissing you again.
Your lips melt into his in a kiss so passionate it has you both walking backward in an eager effort to get each other onto the bed. You waste no time in pawing the clothes off of his slender body, satisfied as you hear his jeans then his cardigan hit the carpeted floor with a soft plop.
He does the same when it comes to your dress, a flowy, strapless piece that required you to go braless for it to work. Once it’s off and you’re both down to just underwear, you’re met with the feeling of his bare skin against your bare skin, your bare chest against his bare chest, and more relieving than anything else, the feeling of the bed frame meeting the back of your thighs as you finally reach the bed.
Pushing you up onto the edge of the bed, he lets his hands wander the expanse of your body, enjoying the feeling of your tits squeezed in the palms of his hands. You lean into his touch, moaning a little in his mouth as he never stops kissing you, even as he reaches down to breach the waistband of your underwear. 
You don’t realize how wet you are until his slender fingers push out to separate your folds, a task made difficult as your sticky arousal glues your lips together. But he manages it dextrously, wasting no time in finding your clit and drawing slow, teasing circles with the pads of his fingers.
His other hand, which had up until this point been palming your breast idly, now comes up to hold your face as he regretfully pulls his lips from yours. He studies your expressions with furrowed eyebrows, a teasing lilt in his voice as he asks, “Do you like it when I touch you here?” 
Just as soon as you part your lips to respond, his fingers dip lower until he’s sliding two of them into your fluttering hole. Your wetness provides no resistance, and now he’s coiling them deep inside of you. “Or here?”
You can’t think or respond when he’s pumping his long, slender fingers in and out of you, an act made more intense as he forces you to look at him with his hand on your jaw keeping your head in place. 
If you had to describe sex you’ve had in the past, vulnerable isn’t a word you’d use. 
And yet, it’s exactly how you feel as his eyes never leave your face, overseeing every expression you make from overwhelmed to whimpering to having your lips parted in a moan. 
A faint part of you wonders if you should feel more uncomfortable with how intimate this sex feels. 
And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more pent up just with someone's fingers inside of you than right now, especially when he opens his mouth to praise you in his deep voice.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he says, his breezy tone of voice reminiscent of a lullaby. “I’m so glad I met you tonight. Can’t wait to fuck you.”
He fucks his fingers deeper inside of you as he says this, causing you to mewl as you throw your head back in his hands. “Don’t make me wait, then,” you challenge, gripping his arm to steady yourself as another moan threatens its way to your lips.
“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” he wolfishly remarks. “Well, if you insist.”
With am amused smile on his face, he pulls his fingers out of you, raising them between your two faces so that you both can look on at the wetness which coats them. You’re not at all surprised when he brings them to his lips, only turned on as he sucks both fingers clean with a wet smack.
“Wanna know what you taste like?” he proposes, his expression and tone of voice far too innocent for what he’s just done. You don’t respond, only pull him into you for a kiss so lewd it makes your insides jump. You reach your hand between your bodies as you kiss him, attaching your fingers to the bulge protruding from his boxers. You enjoy the feel of his clothed cock, large and substantial in your hands, before he’s pulling away to sigh against your lips. 
Your hand leaves his body as he moves away from you. “Don’t go anywhere. Need to grab a condom.”
You watch him in amusement as he goes to hunch over his discarded jeans. In his absence, you relax on your stomach, facing him on the edge of the bed. “Where would I go, stranger?”
“I don’t know,” he intones, returning to you with a silver packet in between his fingers. “But If I could freeze you like this forever, so pretty and waiting for me to fuck you, I would.”
The stranger’s way with words has your body responding once more, a ripple of electricity traveling up your legs and even more so when he takes off his boxers in front of you. You’re not ashamed at whatever expression of suprise is surely showing up on your face at the sight. 
You’d likely use the word pretty to describe his dick, veins bulging out of it like little vines and a tip that matches the rosy color of his lips. You decide then that he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken, though you suppose you should save that judgment for when he’s actually managed to fit inside of you.
Your thoughts are broken by his touch as he lifts your chin up with his hands, a smirk ever so prominent on his puffy lips. “My eyes are up here, you know.”
You both giggle at his cheekiness, a moment of humour that is promptly ended when the opening of the condom packet grabs your attention. You reach out to cease his movements with a hand on his wrist. He meets your gaze with a cute, confused look on his face. “Wanna taste you first, stranger” you assert with a blink.
“You’re so cute,” he remarks enjoyably, “But I won’t last if you do.”
You look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them extra hard as you say, “Just a peck?”
As you already suspected from the lack of conviction in his earlier refusal, he’s not at all stern as he moves to rub his thumb across your cheek. “Since you asked so nicely,” he replies permissively.
You barely have to lean forward off the bed for your mouth to reach his cock, tall and straight and hard in front of your face. Wetting your lips with your tongue, you press a kiss just underneath his tip, making eye contact as you pull away to watch as a heavy sigh leaves his lips. You don’t stop at just one peck, peppering them all along his shaft and enjoying the smoothness of his skin against your lips.
“I thought you said just a peck?” he reminds you when he notices what you’re doing, placing a hand on your hair but making no effort to push you away.
“Am I not pecking?” you ask, relishing in the groan he lets out when you wrap your puckered lips over his reddened tip. You’re just about to open your mouth fully before he finally shows some restraint, pulling you off of him with a tug of your hair.
“That’s enough,” he asserts, the mattress dipping from his weight as he hops onto the bed behind you. “If I’m not inside of you within the next 5 seconds, I’m gonna lose my mind.”
Conscious of his presence behind you, you raise your body into an arch and feel pleased when he immediately grabs at your hips to pull you in closer. He ignores the impatient little wiggles of your ass that you do in attempt to get him to fuck you, prefering instead to spread your pussy open with his fingers and groan as he watches arousal spill out of you. “You’re so fucking wet,” he remarks dreamily, sliding a languid finger inside of you in a way that makes your arch deepen. “And it’s all for me, isn’t it, baby?”
His vocal tone has taken a shift so that he sounds less adoring and more sadistic, the observance of your arousal being just for him stated almost matter-a-factly. You don’t know why it turns you on even more than before, but it does, especially as he plays idly with pussy as if he forgets it belongs to a living, breathing you.
You’re fighting off whimpers as his fingers continue their exploration of your entrance. You hear him let out a long, drawn out “Fuck,” under his breath before he’s withdrawing from you entirely and asking, “Can I eat you out?”
Images of his plump, rosy lips flash through your mind like a movie sequence before you’re humming out affirmatively, excitement of what’s to come making your body tense as you feel him laying down on the bed, feel his breath against your mound as he becomes level with your pussy, feel his lips against your clit as he goes in to take all of you in his mouth.
The sounds that fill the room now are nothing but a lewd combination of your moans, his slurping, and the continued blaring of music coming from outside the walls. The way that he eats pussy is almost just as clumsy and unsure as he is, but he somehow manages to make you cry out as his tongue expertly flicks against your clit, or he licks into your entrance to taste the arousal there. 
You feel yourself becoming lightheaded and breathless as he licks you closer into orgasm. Already worked up from all the time he spent fingering you, what feels like the last straw is when he experimentally licks upward and brushes his tongue against the tight skin of your asshole. Noticing how it makes you moan and reach back to pull at his long hair, he keeps going, wetting your ass with his tongue. 
Alternating between this and your cunt, it’s only a matter of time when you find yourself mewling and tensing as your orgasm takes over your body. Your thighs are shaking and your hands are pulling so hard at his hair that you’re afraid you’ll rip it, but nonetheless he holds you up with two large hands against your ass and groans as you come all over his face. 
When he finally pulls away from you, your body collapses against the bed, all the marks of a good orgasm hitting you at once – ringing ears, tensed limbs, rising chest. You’re brought back to Earth by the feeling of faint, fleeting kisses being left on the expanse of your spine, the stranger’s body pressed against yours before he’s level with you and moving to pull your head to face his.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, sweet and innocent in yet another moment of tenderness that feels inappropriate for the setting you’re in. Nonetheless, you nod and relish in the feeling of his mouth against yours once more, acknowledging faintly to yourself that he just might be the best kisser you’ve ever been with.
He brings your body back to life by snaking his arms underneath you, grabbing at your boobs and almost making you feel ticklish as he gently caresses your stomach. Pulling away from your lips, he mutters the command of, “Turn around,” against your lips that you follow with zeal.
Flat on your back, you’re brought face to face with the man who has exceeded your expectations in almost every way compared to anyone else you’ve slept with so casually. Long locks of dark hair drape against the sides of face as he holds himself above you, making him look intense, but only briefly before he’s asking through an impish smile, “Are you intimidated by eye contact?”
He says it to you like it’s a challenge, like he hopes you’ll be shy so that he can guide you through it anyway. You shake your head stubbornly. “No,” you answer, “But I’m intimated by you.” It’s true. You’ve definitely never met a person like him, never had sex feel so intimate with a complete stranger. It scares you.
“Don’t be. I’m really a softie,” he assures, a childlike expression of excitement lighting up his handsome features. He presses a hand against your cheek in a gesture of affection, lips curling into a grin. “Only, my dick is as hard as a rock right now. Kinda wanna bury it inside of you.”
“What’s stopping you?”
You’re surprised when, in reply, he adjusts his body so that he’s lined up perfectly with your entrance, his latex covered tip pressing just slightly into you. “That’s a great question,” he quips, and without any further pretense, he slots himself inside of you.
You let out identical sounding sighs as his cock is engulfed by the sensitive, wet inside of your pussy. He presses his hips against you, making sure he’s as deep as he possibly can be before looking down at you for your approval. “Feels good?”
“Yes. Oh god, yes,” you’re whimpering in reply, head already thrown back as you get used to the feeling of his girth filling you. 
Hearing you express how good you feel is all the stranger needs to hear before he’s pulling out of you, methodically ensuring that just the tip is left inside before pushing back in. His vigor catches you by surprise, leaving you no time to adjust as he continues at a feverish pace. Unintelligible, broken-sounding cries spill out from your lips with each moment his hips meet yours.
“You have such pretty eyes,” he remarks as he watches you, a compliment you don’t think you’ve ever heard before while being fucked into the next dimesion. “And a pretty mouth, too,” he adds, his thumb breaching the wet insides of your lips before he’s leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is messy as you struggle to meet each other’s mouths, devolving into a mixture of tongue and spit and broken breath.
“Talk to me. Tell me how good I’m fucking you,” he groans against your mouth, sitting up on his knees to fuck you in an angle that’s deeper that before. With the pounding that he’s giving you, you’re just barely able to catch your breath, let alone form the words to respond to him.
“Can’t…scream your name if I don’t know it,” you manage to say in a teasing sort-of-way, your smirk widening into an open-mouthed cry as you’re sure he grazes your g-spot with a particualrly deep drive of his hips. 
He chuckles at your way of trying to get him to share his name, and whether he’s truly serious in wanting to withhold it from you or because he just wants to tease you, he says, “Come on my cock, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
“Fuck me harder, and I will,” you reply tauntingly, not because he’s not already, but because even through the haze of your approaching orgasm, you want to see how he’ll respond to your challenge.
He smiles at this request, though while maintaining his same pace. “But I don’t wanna break you, sweet girl,” he remarks, and if he weren’t, too, about to crash into his approaching climax, he’d surely make it a point to tease you for how you clench at the pet name. Instead, he opts to slot a hand between your legs and make work of your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. “Does this help?”
Just as you were sure this sex couldn’t get any better, the added stimulation to your clit has your entire body reeling with pleasure. “Oh god, yes. Don’t stop.”
With each approaching second, you can feel yourself about to fall apart, a condition only worsened when the stranger pulls you down by your hips, bringing him even deeper inside of you. You love the sound of his deep voice from above you, sounding almost far-away and dreamlike as he mumbles remarks like, “Keep making those pretty noises for me, baby,” that shoot straight to your core, only adding to your wetness.
“Fuck, you’re killing me baby,” is what he says as his own pleasure begins to reach it’s peak. You love the expressions he makes, the almost painful look on his face as he says, “Wish I could come inside this tight little pussy.”
Even with the knowledge that he put a condom on, you can’t help but react positively to the notion of being filled with his hot, sticky release. And without intending it, your walls close tightly around his cock in tandem with the loud moan that on its own revealed just how much you enjoyed that little tidbit of dirty talk. And without fail, the stranger is quick to pick up on it and tease you for it, though through his own gritted teeth and groans as he inches closer to release.
“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? If I filled you up with my cum? You wanna have my baby and you don’t even know my name?’
It’s the half-degrading, half-awe-inspired tone of voice he uses that throws you over the edge, your thighs shaking in anticipation of what you’re sure will be an earth-shattering orgasm. “I’m close,” you confess through baited breath.
“I know you are,” he acknowledges in reply, and without warning, your body convulses with the strength of your climax. “That’s it. Come on my dick.”
You don’t think you’ve ever felt anything quite like the overwhelming pleasure that washes over you in a series of pulsating, neverending waves. The stranger fucks you through it without any alteration in speed, and it’s just as you’re about to squirm away in overstimulation that he finishes with one last, deep thrust inside of you. The sound of his groans are just as melodic and husky as his voice is, sending little afterschocks of arousal up your belly until finally, he pulls out of you with a grunt.
Looking up at the ceiling, you feel the mattress dip beside you as he collapses onto the bed. Usually, this would be the point where the post-nut clarity hits you and you’d begin to regret another series of bad decisions that led you to a stranger's bed. Instead, as you lock eyes with who might possibly be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, you only wonder what you did to deserve such good fortune to have met him tonight.
“That was fucking amazing, stranger,” he remarks, putting voice to your own exact thoughts as he rolls over so that he can stroke your cheek idly. You try to hold off the pestering inclination to blink so that you can take in the rosy-cheeked, delicately striking state his orgasm has left him in. 
You thought that after giving you what was surely the best pounding of your life that you’d be less inclined to view him as a total weirdo. Instead, there is something so innocent now about the way he looks at you, as he can’t even believe this happened. Wanting to tease him, you reply, “Good enough for me to learn your name?”
He considers your question with an impish chuckle, and though you’re not at all desperate to know his name, you’re still surprised when he replies, “Will you forgive me if I say something tells me I want to keep you hanging for just a little while longer?”
There is an air of mysteriousness to his words that you pick up on but have trouble interpreting. And while you itch to know what’s going on in that big brain of his, you decide not to question him any further, instead just appreciating the ease and contentment of this moment. 
“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him candidly, leaning in so that the tip of your noses touch. “But I’m glad I met you tonight.”
You’re not embarrassed at all when you lean in to kiss him, because even though the sex is over, you just want to feel his lips against yours one last time before you go back to being two strangers who will likely never see each other after this. He reciprocates, seemingly ignorant to the idea of kissing someone chastely as he pulls you in and slips his tongue into your mouth.
Nevertheless, when you pull away, you know the moment is over when he says, “Walk of shame out the door together?”
You’re not sad, only content as you turn to him and answer. “Let’s.”
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It’s a cozy Thursday morning on your campus as you step outside to meet with your friend, Jaehyun. When you had allowed him to borrow your computations textbook, you had no idea it would lead you to his apartment complex, where he swore he had left the book on accident.
“I promise you, I thought I brought it with me to class, but I must’ve left it in my room,” he explained sheepishly, patting his pockets as he searched for his apartment key. With his straight-cut bangs and habit of forgetfulness, Jaehyun was about the closest thing to a friend that you had since transferring. You went to the same high school together, congregating in the same social circles but ultimately going two separate ways after graduation. 
It wasn’t until your first day at this new school that you sat down for your morning class and discovered that Myeong Jaehyun went here, too. Since that moment of recognition on both of your ends, he’s been your only piece of relative familiarly in a place that still feels new to you.
“Here we are,” mumbled a disgruntled Jaehyun as he finally managed to unlock the door to his apartment. It was your first time seeing the place, and as far as student housing went, you were impressed. The space was populated with nice-enough-looking furniture and boyish decorations that you could tell belonged to Jaehyun and whoever his roommate was.
“I’m gonna go get your textbook from my room. You can wait out here,” said Jaehyun, turning to head into the hallway where the rooms were. You were just about to get comfortable, maybe sit on his couch and chill as he invariably spent ages looking for your textbook, until the noise of a door opening startled you into attention.
“Oh hey,” said Jaehyun casually to a familiar silhouette that appeared into the hallway. “Y/N, this is my roommate, Leehan.”
You fought the urge to laugh out loud as you were met with the image of the stranger who, just a few weeks ago, was drilling his cock into you in some of the most mind-blowing sex of your life. When he first came out and hadn’t noticed you yet, he simply looked curious, as if he was coming out of his room to see what was causing the noise. But now, he barely fights off a smirk as he, too, processes your presence. All of this goes unnoticed by an unsuspecting Jaehyun, who proceeds into his room to rummage for your textbook.
Left alone with the boy who you can now identify as Leehan, you look him up and down, taking in his casual appearance and hair that has only grown longer in the time since you last met. He leans against his doorframe, looking you over with a gaze just as intrusive before saying, “So. Y/N, huh?”
Both of you laugh out loud at the same time, the humor and awkwardness of the situation hitting you all at once. The smile on Leehan’s face forces his eyes into crescent shapes that you faintly acknowledge as endearing. 
“Leehan,” you state with a grin, returning the preceding instance of acknowledging each other’s names. “It suits you. Although, I’m not sure it’s special enough to justify you withholding it.”
He shrugs indifferently at that, looking not even a little embarrassed as he replies jokingly, “What can I say? I prefer an air of anonymity when conducting my one-night stands.”
“Is that what that was?” you quip back with a tilt of your head. You know exactly that that’s what it was, but playing coy about it is how you save yourself from the embarrassment of having to address the weird sexual-tension-mixed-with-awkwardness that lingers between the two of you.
He runs a hand through his hair, maintaining the smile on his face as he shrugs noncommittally and replies, “I don’t know, I was too drunk to remember. In fact, who are you again?”
You both giggle, the atmosphere and banter between the two of you surprisingly easy, even outside the context of being drunk at a house party. You can faintly hear the sounds of Jaehyun’s rummaging becoming louder a few doors away, letting you know he’s no closer to finding your textbook. To your own internal surprise, a tiny part of you is relieved to have the time to see where this interaction with Leehan will go.
“So, you’re friends with Myeong Jaehyun?” he asks, gesturing his head in the direction of his roommate’s door just a few feet away. You notice how he slips his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and straightens his posture, a move somehow making him look 10x taller.
“It’s a love/hate sort of thing. But yes, I’ve known him since high school.”
The corner of Leehan’s lips switch into a half-smile, something foreboding in his tone as he then says, “Then I guess I should expect to see you much more often, Y/N.”
You raise a questioning eyebrow, and through a confused grin, ask, “Why do you say that so ominously?”
Leehan doesn’t answer at first and instead just maintains his piercing gaze on your face. He’s so strange, but what’s even stranger is that you find yourself attracted to him. Attracted to him and his weirdly crooked smile and habit of staring at people for longer than normal. His shaggy brown hair and pouty lips that you can’t forget were once meshed with yours.
“No reason,” he finally answers, and before you can question such obviously purposeful ambiguity, it’s just then that Jaehyun comes out with your textbook.
“Found your book,” he says, cradling the thick textbook underneath his arm. Looking over at Leehan, whose open-mouthed expression obviously reveals he was in the middle of saying something, he pauses. “You good, Leehan?”
Leehan maintains a passive expression, though the hints of a smirk just barely bleed onto his lips as he gestures his head in your direction. “Yeah, just talking to Y/N.”
Jaehuun exchanges an inquisitive look between the two of you. “You guys know each other?”
Not sure how to answer that question, you look to Leehan for any non-verbal guidance. And funnily enough, he looks to you with the same sort of expecting look, and now you’re staring at each other for longer than normal, fighting back laughter as a confused Jaehyun looks on.
“You could say that,” Leehan replies, nodding his head affirmatively.
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part 2 can be found HERE
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ceoofyearning · 4 months
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All I Want - Cassian
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Pairing: Cassian x Bestfriend! Reader Summary: When Nesta Archeron dropped into Cassian’s life with the cataclysmic force of silver wildfire, you took one look at them and knew you missed your chance. There’s no fighting against a mating bond. But that hasn’t stopped the memory of him from haunting you since.  Except there he is, decades later, just across the room, watching you watch him. Rating & Warnings: T/M | Hurt & Comfort, angst to fluff, PAST Nessian, recreational mirthroot use, alcohol, suggestive but nothing explicit (lmk if i miss anything else) Word Count: 4.4k Links: Masterlist
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A part of you had always craved to see the rest of the world, and when you got the chance to work in the Day Court three decades ago, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. With how things were, it seemed like the perfect excuse to leave. After all, it’s not as if you had a reason to stay. The mating bond between snapping Nesta and Cassian had made sure of that. 
In many ways, leaving felt like the easier choice - to shed your past and start anew in a court where no one knew you - a clean slate. Mother knows you needed one. 
Your work for Helion involves acquiring ancient texts and artifacts for the One Thousand Libraries of Day. It required you to travel all over Phythian, even as far as the continent to procure these items yourself. You adore your job and enjoy the freedom it affords you, but when you were given the opportunity to go back to Velaris to manage the satellite division connected to the Great Library, a part of you had been reluctant to agree. Coming back meant facing your past. And that, more than anything, was terrifying. 
It has been a few weeks since your return to the City of Stars. Although you didn’t have much time outside of work, you do try to maintain a semblance of a social life. Mor made sure of that. When you first met her a few centuries ago, Mor had taken one look at you, a broken, wingless half-Ilyrian female, and decided that the two of you must become friends. Perhaps she saw a piece of herself in you, in your defiance against a world that was out to get you. 
You had been close friends with Mor in the past, and the moment she heard you were back in town, she reached out to reconnect. You appreciated it immensely, of course. Going back and having to build a life for yourself in Velaris after all these years of being gone seems less daunting with a friend by your side. So when Mor asks you to go out, you try to go whenever you can afford to, desperate to grasp at chances to belong, despite yourself. Tonight, Mor practically dragged you out of your apartment for drinks and to briefly attend a ball in the Moonstone Palace. 
“I don’t understand why Emerie is allowed to pass,” you grumble morosely as you peer up the warmly-lit exterior of Rita’s. 
“Because Em hasn’t been hiding out in the library for the past week,” Mor counters blithely. 
“I was busy,” you retort in vain, knowing full well that all resistance is futile. 
“You’re always busy,” Mor retorts, throwing an arm around your neck. Your friend is clad in her usual skin-tight red dress, exuding self-confidence with each step she takes. You shoot her a look of sheer betrayal, and she laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “It’s for your own good. You deserve to have fun too, you know?” Mor says with exaggerated gravity, which has you rolling your eyes. 
You sigh, and pad after her, knowing there is no use trying to argue now that she has already dragged you here. You practically trip over yourself on your borrowed heels, as you try to adjust the straps of the dress Mor had squeezed you into. It’s a resplendent satin dress with a terrifyingly low neckline and an even terrifyingly high slit up your left thigh. To her credit, however, the black dress fits you like a glove, a testament to Mor’s eye for fashion. With much effort, you banish the thoughts of all your responsibilities and deadlines to the void. Fine, you’ll try to have fun tonight, at least. 
You would've been happy enough with a simple dinner, maybe even some wine, but of course, Mor idea of fun rarely coincides with yours. The initial plan is to have just a few drinks at a nice, quiet bar - catch up a bit, and have a good laugh. But as the night progressed, Mor had piled you with more and more alcohol, and you became more amenable to going along with her unhinged plans. 
It starts with you moving to another bar, then another, until you finally find yourselves right in the middle of the overcrowded dance floor in the Moonstone Palace. To call this gathering a ball would be far too generous. Sometime in the night, the party had devolved to the very picture of debauchery. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled liquor, and bad decisions. It’s a good thing you were drunk enough to not mind the overwhelming press of bodies against you. You could even admit that there’s some comfort to be had in being just another face lost in the crowd - free to enjoy the music, to simply be. The beat seems to reverberate throughout the whole room, through your bones, pulling you and everyone else into movement, like a collective heartbeat. Amidst the sea of nameless, gyrating bodies, that’s where you catch a glimpse of him - a slip of darkness, flickering in and out of view as the kaleidoscope of colors shifts overhead. 
Cassian.
Your attention doesn’t go unnoticed for long. His hazel eyes catch yours, and for a moment, the world stops existing. There is only you, and him and the weight of all the love, heartache and desolation between you. A blink, and reality returns to its normal unrelenting pace.
His muscled frame is evident even from a distance, the outline of his strong shoulders and defined arms visible beneath the blank long-sleeved shirt he wore. Intricate tattoos peek through the opened buttons of his shirt, their dark lines running from his neck, chest, down to his forearms. 
You knew Cassian back when you still lived in the Night Court, fancied yourself in love with his charming smile and penchant for mischief. More than anything, you admired him for his kindness. He had been the one to help you escape the camps, even helped set you up here in Velaris. As a half-Ilyrian female with no wings or any significant Ilyrian power, you don’t doubt that staying would have been a death sentence. Or worse. 
Afterward, the two of you had spent the better part of the last two centuries circling one another. You didn’t know the name of what you had with Cassian, but the two of you had preferred it that way, not wanting to risk your friendship. You never had the courage to ask for more, not even when you desperately wanted to. But when Nesta Archeron had dropped into his life with the cataclysmic force of silver wildfire, you took one look at them and knew you missed your chance. There’s no fighting against a mating bond. But that hasn’t stopped the memory of him from haunting you since. 
Except there he is, decades later, just across the room, watching you watch him. 
You heard from the grapevine that, seven years ago, after a failed explosive engagement and years of falling in and out of each other's beds, he and Nesta had finally called it quits. The eldest Archeron sister, Lady Death, had moved to the ruins of Dusk to seek her own destiny, to carve the story of her glory onto the earth. Cassian, on the other hand, had decided to remain here in the Night Court. 
A glint of recognition burns in his hazel eyes. For you, Cassian had always been the one that got away. Despite yourself, you find comfort in the thought that it might not have been easy for him to forget you, too.
You can feel your heart beat violently against your chest, threatening to break free from your ribcage. You can’t tell whether it's from anticipation, or a deep-rooted instinct that this? This is very dangerous territory, not unlike walking back into a battlefield you just managed to escape. Regardless of your better judgment, a smile makes its way to your lips, because, in the end, you’re happy to see him.
And Cassian smiles back. 
Throughout the night, you watch Cassian from the corner of your eye, and you feel his gaze on you in return. Sometime in the evening, you lose Mor in the crowd, covertly swept away by a gorgeous Ilyrian female in black. You, in turn, are left precariously perched on a stool, nursing a glass of water. You swallow your disappointment while contemplating the logistics of winnowing home whilst being utterly tipsy, and conclude that you’re more likely to be spliced across time and space than to reach your destination. 
Instead, you give yourself a few minutes to loiter by one of the palace’s expansive balconies, trying to get sober enough to depart. You’ve lost your shoal sometime during the party, but the crisp night air feels great against your heated skin, helping clear your mind. You recline against the chaise, before crossing your ankles and shutting your eyes. You stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the muted music and the blessed solitude. 
Your peace doesn’t last long, however. You hear a familiar set of footsteps approach, followed by the telltale groan of the chaise beside you. 
“You’re back,” he sounds breathless, disbelieving as though he hasn’t quite figured out if he’s dreaming. You’d know the calming cadence of his voice anywhere, in the dreaming, even in death. 
“Cassian,” you sigh, just as breathless, just as dismantled by his presence. Finally, your eyes flutter open to peer up at him. You swallow the lump in your throat, and he watches the movement, transfixed. 
You drink in the sight of him like you’re lost in a desert, and he���s the only oasis to be found. His long, wavy locks of midnight-black hair cascade over his shoulders, half pulled back into a disheveled bun behind his head. Loose curls frame his rugged features. He looks sharper, hewn from the toughest steel, but there was a familiar warmth in those hazel eyes.
“I thought I saw you,” he smiles, and your mind nearly implodes at the sight of the dimple on his right cheek. Memories flash, and you remember languid afternoons spent pressing kisses over the same dimple, your nose buried in his neck, your hands tracing shapes over his chest. The moment his hand lands on your knee, however, you snap out of it.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” you notify him pointedly because you are done giving pieces of yourself to this man, no matter how charming he can be, not without anything tangible in return.
He raises his hands over his head, as if in surrender, all the while giving you a crooked grin, “Hey, my intentions are pure, Sunshine. I just wanted to catch up.”
And that statement would have been perfectly fine, you think, if he hadn’t just called you that. Sunshine. God, how you used to love every time he said it, how your heart soared every time he spoke those two syllables. It made you feel special, seen. Now, all it leaves is the scent of smoke in your lungs and the taste of devastation in your tongue
“Cassian, Please,” and you hope to The Mother you sound casual, light, sarcastic even; and not like you’re about to swallow your own damn tongue. “Your intentions are as perpetually black as Azriel’s shadows.”
“I resent that,” he huffs petulantly. “I’m perfectly capable of having a chaste conversation.”
“Right.” You laugh, a real one this time, and Cassian holds his chest in feigned offense. “I just got back, and the first thing you do is lie to me? For shame, Cassian, for shame,” you tease, and a lovely shade of pink invades his cheeks, much to his chagrin. 
As you settle further into the cushions, you ask, "What have you been up to? Those Illyrian Warlords still giving you trouble?"
Cassian leans back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I hardly involve myself in the military anymore," he admits, his tone tinged with an equal measure of relief and exhaustion. "I'm tired of the battlefields, the bloodshed. I’ve seen enough of it for several lifetimes. I want to build, not to destroy; to something new, something greater than myself."
And that’s when you see it - the weariness from the weight of all that violence, from the stains those lost lives have left on his hands. They may have called him the Lord of Bloodshed, and he may have been good at it even, Cassian - at his core - has always had a kind and tender heart. You don’t blame him for wanting to leave that life. 
You nod in understanding. “What are you going to do?” you ask, curiosity piqued.
A spark lights up in his eyes, and his smile returns, softer this time. “I’m not entirely sure yet,” he confesses. “But I want it to be something that helps people, that brings more good into the world. The Valkyries were a great start, but I want to build a place for people like us, my mother, the outcasts - a safe place for all the females, the children and the bastards brutalized by this world. I want to give them a chance for a kinder life.”
Your chest aches, and you reach out, taking his hand in yours. “That sounds wonderful, Cassian.”
He squeezes your hand gently, his eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you.”
He studies you for another long moment, hazel eyes taking you in like he’s seeing you for the first time, as if you held the answer to a question he’s spent a long, long time asking himself. His gaze softens.
As the evening stretches on, you and Cassian talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing effortlessly like the constant ebb and flow of the Sidra. Despite what happened in the past, this thing between you two feels natural, almost as if no time has passed. Sitting there with him, you realize how much you've missed this, missed him. Cassian had been your savior, your family, and your closest friend before everything went wrong, and perhaps, that’s the one thing you mourned the most: his presence in your life, regardless of who he was to you. Reconnecting with him now felt like being ripped apart and remade all in one breath. 
Then, he pulls out a pipe from his pocket, and promptly sticks it in between his teeth. You watch, half mesmerized by the way he lights it before taking a slow, steady drag. He breathes it in with practiced ease, before releasing a truly remarkable cloud of smoke. He must’ve noticed you staring because he looks at you and wordlessly offers you a puff. “Remember this?”
You eye him dubiously, “How could I forget.” It’s the same gem-encrusted pipe you had given him as a joke all those years ago, knowing how much he hated unnecessary finery. He had stared at it in horror when you first presented it to him years ago. That he kept it surprised you. 
Memories of the two of you locked in his room come into mind. Your lips on his, bodies entwined as a bowl of mirthroot burns at the bedside table. 
“What? Don’t tell me you don’t do mirthroot anymore?” He asks, his grin growing wider. “What is it? Forgotten to have fun?”
Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you retort instead, “I haven’t.” 
“Prove it then,” he challenges, as he taps off some of the ash that has accumulated in the mouth of the pipe. 
You shouldn’t, really. But it’s been a shitty night, and an even shittier month. Mor was right. You’ve been running yourself ragged. And, in truth, you just needed a night where you could forget the rest of your life, even if it’s only temporary 
“Well,” you say as you take the pipe from him, “If anyone needs a bit more mirth in their life, it would be me.”
Cassian chuckles, “And me.” The two of you mime clinking glasses as a show of commiseration, before bursting into raucous laughter. 
You toy with the pipe for a few seconds, turning it over your fingers. It may have seemed like reluctance, but in reality, you were trying to remember the last time you allowed yourself to relax. You realize that it has been a very long while. With one deep breath, the earthy smoke fills your lungs, and you let it linger before you breathe it out. Not without being hit by a coughing fit though, much to Cassian’s amusement. 
“Don’t,” you warn him. 
And of course, he doesn’t heed you, and instead says, “You’re adorable.” 
Before you can say anything else, he takes the pipe and squeezes himself beside you onto the scant space left on the chaise. You let him. It is as though the two of you can’t help but gravitate towards each other, twin stars pulled together by the same cosmic force; even after everything, even after years of silence, of insurmountable distance.
The chaise makes an impressive effort to hold the both of you, and it takes some truly impressive maneuvering for the two of you to fit. He’s turned towards you while you lay half-sprawled across his chest, your leg thrown over his thighs to lock around his calf. His wing curls over you, encasing you within his warmth. Your hand is over his chest, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart echoing your own. It's comforting to know that, even after all that has happened, the two of you still fit together like long-lost pieces of a single puzzle.
“Here, let me,” he takes another hit, easily inhaling and exhaling the silvery smoke as if that alone is enough instruction. He hands it to you once more.
You give him a withering look, but take it from him anyway. Once more you try your best to take the smoke in, but it elicits another coughing fit when you breathe it out. 
“Mother’s tits,” you mutter between coughs. Meanwhile, Cassian looks far too delighted at watching your miserable attempts to get high. 
“Do you want me to help?” he cryptically proposes with a hopeful look on his face, and you see the question for what it is. “You can say no anytime,” he assures you. 
In lieu of an answer, you inch closer, your face angled to fit with his, and you wonder if this is how a sunflower feels when it turns to face the sun. He only gives you one of his unfairly dashing smiles, before he takes another long drag. But this time, he keeps it in, as he cups your face and presses his thumb down your lower lip to coax your mouth open for him.
“Like this,” he whispers, his lips a mere centimeter away from yours. You’re practically vibrating with want, counting the infinities between seconds before you can taste his lips again. The smoke escapes his lips in languid swirls as you pull him down by the nape into a kiss. 
Cassian smiles against your lips.
The world is gradually shifting around you, like tectonic plates converging to recreate the world anew. The both of you shudder at the contact. This isn’t a cataclysm, not a world-ending explosion, but a realization, an answer to an overdrawn question. Cassian kisses you like he’s got all the time in the world to spare. It’s a languid back and forth of shared breaths and the seamless glide of his chapped lips on yours.
The feel of him is familiar and foreign all at once. The taste of rum lingers on his tongue as he licks into your mouth, swallowing the moan that comes out of you unbidden. You don’t know how long you stay in that hazy bliss, reacquainting yourselves with each other, just breathing the other in. 
But when he pulls away, he tugs on your bottom lip as if to make a final point. And what a totally valid point it is. You are convinced - so convinced, in fact, that you decide you aren’t going to smack him over the head for ruining you completely. The smug smirk on his face, by all means, would normally piss you off, but you find yourself smiling back instead.
“Was that better?” He inquires, batting his doe eyes at you innocently like he hadn’t just obliterated all rational thought in your head with his touch alone. 
“I can’t tell…” you trail off in feigned consideration. “I think you’ll have to do it again, just to be sure.” 
His nose scrunches in the most adorable way as he scoffs. Nonetheless, he humors you, lifting the pipe to his lips and inhaling another long drag.
“This is purely for science,” you inform him, running your thumb tenderly over his cheekbone. 
He nods in mock seriousness, before adding, “An experiment of sorts.” 
“Exactly,” you agree, as you tug on the curls on the back of his head to pull him down for another kiss. 
Cassian offers to fly you home, and you accept despite the both of you knowing that you’re perfectly capable and sober enough to winnow back on your own. Cassian scoops you up in the cradle of his strong arms, and you can’t help but let out a small gasp as the massive shadow of his wings unfurl. With a few beats, you’re in the air, soaring high above the mountainside. You barely have the presence of mind to erect the barrier for the two of you to keep the cold at bay. 
The flight to your apartment takes longer than it should because Cassian can’t keep his damn hands to himself long enough to take seven consecutive wingbeats. You indulge him, of course. With your arms around his neck, his lips find yours time and time again. Below, Velaris is a spread of starlight, like a reflection of the night sky overhead. You’ve got no viable defense for your actions, only that you missed him immensely, and deep in your soul, you know you still want him. You’re afraid that you always will. 
But as you arrive at your apartment, the both of you walk up to the door. Cassian tells you he’ll see you tomorrow and moves to leave you with one final peck on the lips, but you maintain your firm grip on his collar.
“You’re leaving?” You ask, your brows scrunched and your mouth agape. 
He chuckles at your confusion, his lips once again to that signature crooked grin you adore far too much.
“Oh? Did you want me to stay?” he asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear with a painfully gentle touch.
You huff out an exasperated breath, giving him a pointed look. “Cassian, if I didn't, you wouldn't even be here,” you retort, trying to mask the warmth his gesture ignited. 
“Why?” He presses further. “What did you have in mind, pretty girl?” 
That truth is this: you don’t think you could bear parting with him again, not when you just got him back. You don’t think that losing Cassian is something your heart can survive twice. 
His hand makes a slow descent from the back of your head, to your cheekbone, then to your jaw before gently tipping your face up to meet his gaze. A shiver runs down your spin at the intensity of his gaze. 
Cassian languidly leads you against the wall, pressing his body against yours. You can feel the evidence of his want against you, while he begins to leave butterfly kisses on your neck.
“Hmm?” He urges again, in between kisses. “C’mon, tell me.” Then, he tugs on your lobe lightly, before whispering against your ear, “Tell me all the lovely thoughts running through your pretty little head.” 
A shuddering breath leaves your lips in response, your body reflexively arching into him. He slots his muscled thigh in between your legs while keeping a firm grip on your hips. Cassian, it seems, is as intent on keeping you as you are him. 
“Cassian,” you plead, “stay.” Your chest feels like a supernova on the verge of extinction. Fear and longing grip you in a hurricane of emotion, threatening to swallow you whole.
For a while, Cassian just watches you, completely laid bare for him, his to keep or his to break. 
“Cassian,” you repeat, the desperation in your tone palpable. 
He raises his hands in mock surrender once more, reminiscent of earlier that night, before saying, “Say please.” 
“I hate you,” you retort, but your body tells a different story. Without your approval, you realize your hands have slipped under his shirt, reflexively exploring the familiar terrain of his skin, while your lips press against the sensitive skin of his neck. 
Cassian sighs, melting beneath your touch, his playfulness giving way to a look of pure adoration. With an expression that leaves no room for doubt, he whispers, “Liar.” 
“Guilty,” you confess. 
He matches it with a confession of his own, “I love you.” Cassian's gaze is unbearably soft, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. His voice is raw with sheer sincerity. "I've never forgotten you, never stopped thinking about you."
The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a moment, the world pauses, forgets what it is to breathe. You search his face, seeing the truth reflected in forest eyes. A mixture of relief and joy washes over you, like a stream of cool water over scalded skin. Every moment you’ve shared, every glance, every touch, each joy and regret - has led to this moment.
You lean in closer, your forehead resting against his. "I love you too, Cassian,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I never stopped.”  At that moment, you’re certain that The Cauldron had made a mistake because every part of you is perfectly aligned with his, fitting together in a way that no one else ever could.
“Stay,” you implore him once more, your voice soft but earnest.
“Only if you promise to go on a date with me,” he says against your lips. 
You blink blearily up at him, your mind still lost in the moment. “A date?” you ask, almost in wonder. There was a time when the two of you spent everyday together, back when you were in the purgatory between best friends and something more. But in retrospect, you’ve never gone on an actual date. Despite everything you’ve done so far, the thought of going out with Cassian is what sends your heart racing.
“Okay,” you finally agree, your voice barely above a whisper.
Cassian’s smile is radiant, a bright light in this wretched world. And for the first time in a long while, you look forward to the future. 
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Author’s Note: Hello! I’m new to this fandom & I’m so down bad I started writing fics again. I’d love to hear your thoughts 💙
+ This was literally supposed to be just Cassian + shotgunning but now there's plot so here we are.
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Crush
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: 3.1k
Summary: Drinks with friends
A/N: Inspired by nothing. Nothing at all.. Enjoy :)
Warnings: fluff, slight angst
It’s a rare Thursday night. You’re not working tomorrow, but instead of being home you’re about to walk into a bar and meet your friend for drinks. She’d claimed that it had been too long since you’ve hung out, and since you couldn’t argue and wanted to catch up you agreed to go out tonight. She’d told you that she would bring a couple of friends she wanted you to meet, and you tried not to be stressed by this. You couldn’t help but be an introvert, and when you were faced with meeting strangers you worried about first impressions. 
You didn’t have to tell Wanda this when she watched you pass your phone between your hands as you waited until it was time to leave. As usual, you were ready early, but you didn’t want to leave yet. You’d invited Wanda to come but it probably wasn’t a good idea. You weren’t sure how many people would recognize Wanda, but in order to prevent a catastrophe and reduce your stress, she opted to stay home. She said she’s be relaxing with Boone and Fletcher, and you just offered a smile before you took another deep breath. You’d almost fallen asleep with your head on Wanda’s shoulder before she reminded you that it was time to go. 
You’d left Boone at home since the bar you were meeting at wasn’t pet friendly, and you immediately miss him when you step out of your car into the cold air. 
You tell yourself you’re looking forward to this when you push open the front door and look around for your friend. 
“Y/n, over here!”
You turn in the direction of the familiar voice and smile at the equally familiar face. As you walk toward the booth with three people, you realize that only one of them is a stranger. You force your steps not to slow as you recognize the redhead you haven’t seen since vet school. You hope to whoever is listening that you’re not blushing as you curse yourself and offer a smile. 
“Hi, sorry I’m late.” 
Your friend stands up to hug you before she shakes her head and convinces you that you’re right on time despite everyone else already having drinks. You sit down beside her when she slides into the booth, and turn to both of her friends as she starts the introductions. 
“Y/n, meet my friends Rachel and Caitlin. Rachel works at the BEST ER clinic in town, and Caitlin just moved here to start working as a Cardiologist.” 
You smile at your friend’s description of what was likely the ER she worked at before moving to General Practice like you. Still, it was never safe to assume, and you decided to ask for clarification’s sake, as well as something to say. 
“Nice to meet you both. That said, Rachel, if you work where I think you do, I’ve talked to you at least once when referring patients.”
You watch as the brunette smiles before confirming your suspicions. You’ve definitely sent many, many patients her way. You’ve heard only good things about her, and not just from your friend. You turn your attention to the familiar face with the calmest expression you can manage. 
“Welcome to Denver, Caitlin. Have you been here long?” 
You resist the urge to steal some of your friend’s drink as the redhead in front of you shakes her head before mentioning where she’d completed her residency. 
“Only a couple of months. I was up at Fort Collins for school. Stayed there after my residency to work at a specialty hospital for a while.”
You nod in understanding and open your mouth to say something, but you’re cut off when your friend nudges you as her face lights up. You tense a little in anticipation, and you hope that the duo watching the exchange across from you chalks it up to the unexpected contact rather than the realization that you were hoping could wait until later. If at all. 
“Oh yeah! Y/n, you both went to school there. I think you were probably there at the same time.” 
You pretend to think about this, and do some math before shooting Caitlin a questioning look. 
“I graduated a little over 8 years ago.”
Rachel and your friend watch as Caitlin smiles in response as she taps her fingers on the table between them in contemplation. You take a moment to study the redhead and you hate that nearly a decade later, you have to fight the flush that wants to creep across your cheeks. You remember your last year of clinics during school. You were exhausted and trying your best to learn as much as possible. One of your first rotations was Cardiology, and you’d felt ill-prepared for it. You knew that you had to try your best to not appear as clueless as you felt in front of the many doctors you’d be working with. 
Then you’d arrived and seen Caitlin was on the service, and you’d suddenly been more attentive than you’ve ever been. You’d felt pathetic and a little gross for how you listened to every word that the redheaded resident said. You’d learned a lot and despite nothing happening at all, you’d left wanting more. 
Each subsequent rotation, you’d jump on any chance to wander down the hall to Cardio again, but you’d only seen her a handful more times before graduating. 
You’d left your unhealthy infatuation in the past and moved in with Wanda that same year. You’d never told her about your crush because you felt guilty despite knowing it wasn’t going anywhere. You knew your then girlfriend was a jealous person, and you saw no point in telling her about your attraction when it would be a moot point as soon as you left campus. 
Now, here you sat with your friend and two other vets, and you’re about to find out if you were as subtle as you hoped. Something told you that you hadn’t been. Namely the many reminders you get from your family about how you’re horribly transparent with your thoughts. Especially when they’re inappropriate. 
“I was in the last year of my residency.”
You remind yourself that you’re happily married and would never look elsewhere as you nod in response. You don’t bother looking at anyone other than Caitlin until a waiter comes by to take your order. 
“Yeah, I remember.” 
Once you have a drink and you’re no longer the center of attention, you relax and try to enjoy your time. You’re realizing quickly that you hadn’t misremembered Caitlin’s dry wit and intelligence. Listening to her talk about what she’s going to be doing is both interesting and a little daunting. 
You realize you’re not alone when your friend finishes off her drink and sets the glass on the table with a sigh. She shoots Rachel and Caitlin half-hearted glares before surprising you with what she says next.
“Alright, alright, we get it. You’re both super smart and we’re lowly GP vets. At least we get to go home to our SOs at a reasonable hour.” 
You roll your eyes and the glare you shoot your friend is a little less half-hearted than hers. You can tell she’s a little tipsy and you just sigh before muttering under your breath. 
“I don’t agree with the ‘lowly’ part of your statement, but I will admit it was nice to get out of school before I turned 30.”
Both Rachel and Caitlin speak up at the same time, and you all end up laughing.
“I was 29.” 
You’re enjoying the niche company when your phone vibrates in your pocket. You glance at your watch to see if it’s urgent, but you just see that Wanda’s sent you a picture. You tune back into the conversation about a C-section nearly going wrong when your phone goes off again. You ignore it, but your friend can feel it vibrating since she’s sitting beside you. She glances at you but says nothing until Rachel’s finished her story. 
“Sorry for sending her to you, but when he walked in at 5pm with her I knew where she was going to end up.” 
You expect Rachel to give her some grief for this because you’ve had this happen to you before. You’ve sent problematic, critically sick patients to an ER because you didn’t have to staff, time, or tools to manage them, and sometimes the recipients were a little salty. You’re pleasantly surprised when the brunette just smiles before shaking her head. Despite the nightmare that it sounded like, apparently it wasn’t too bad. You could never be an ER vet. 
“Don’t be. It was actually pretty fun.” 
You can’t imagine this being fun, but then again you stayed away from pregnant spays for a reason.  
You finish your drink and glance toward one of the TVs across the room to note the time. It’s been a couple of hours, but since you don’t work tomorrow, you’re in no rush. You don’t realize that you’re not the only one who checked the time when your friend speaks up. 
“I know you don’t work tomorrow, Y/n, but I need to be in by 8, so I should probably call it a night.” 
You nod and get ready to stand up and leave too, but she grabs your arm to keep you still. You shoot her a confused look before she glances across the table and then back to you. 
“Stay for another drink, you two, on me. Rachel was my ride, but maybe you and Caitlin can catch up some more.”
You’re suddenly suspicious of your friend and you merely slide out of the booth to let her out without a word. Caitlin does the same and you realize she’s looking at you and you need to make a decision now. You don’t want to be rude, so you just offer her a smile before hugging her tightly. 
“It was good to see you. Let’s do this again soon.” 
You say goodbye to Rachel and watch the duo leave as you slowly slide back into the booth. You wonder what’s going to happen next and consider ordering that second drink when Caitlin speaks up. 
“I hope this doesn’t sound creepy, but I think I remember you.” 
This is not what you’d been expecting, and you merely shake your head with a self-deprecating smile. 
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say that. I was just one of many.” 
Caitlin doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she studies you in a way that sets you on edge. You wonder what she’s thinking about. What she could be remembering. Finally, she smiles before leaning back and shooting you a look that certainly would have made you blush 8 years ago. 
“No, I really do. I swear. You were memorable because you were so…attentive.” 
You break eye contact which is a mistake because of how telling it is, but it’s too late to take it back now. You wonder when Caitlin figured it out. Oh how obvious you must have been. She was probably laughing at you with the other residents. Your face flushes in embarrassment as you curse your horrible poker face. 
“Well that’s… embarrassing doesn’t feel sufficient…mortifying, maybe?” 
You can’t help but laugh at yourself before you turn your attention back to the redhead. You remember that you’re older now, nearly 10 years older, and you’re not the same person. You don’t simp over random attractive people who pay you a little attention. You’re only a simp for your wife these days. 
Caitlin only chuckles before she shakes her head and admits something that you’re not prepared for. You can’t help but wonder again if your friend had planned this. Did she know that you two knew each other before she introduced you? You could ask now, but you’d rather figure out what the hell is going on. 
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was flattering.” 
You decided you definitely needed another drink if you were going to respond to this. After getting your waiter’s attention you ordered another drink before shrugging in faux nonchalance that was honestly laughable. 
“I was just super interested in cardiology honestly.” 
This received the response you’d expected, and you smile when Caitlin laughs more freely. You two ended up talking for another hour about cases before ending the night around 10. 
When you leave the bar, you’re smiling widely at how well the night had gone. You’d been surprised by a hug at the end, and you feel as if you practically floated to your car. This feeling didn’t dim any as you pulled into the garage a little later and cut off the car. You sit back in your seat and sigh heavily before getting out and heading inside. 
“Wanda?” 
Although you’d told her not to, your wife had waited up for you with your pets. You smile as she turns around on the couch before standing up to greet you. You shake your head before hurrying to sit beside her with a wide smile. You’re still reeling from tonight and you reach out and hug your wife before asking how her night has gone. 
“It was pretty quiet here, but relaxing. What about you? Did you have fun?”  
You smile widely before nodding and beginning to describe your night out. You didn’t realize that you were practically glowing, but Wanda picked up on it immediately. 
“It was great. My friend brought two other vets with her and we talked about all sorts of things. ER med, cardiology…disasters. I actually went to school at the same time as one. She was a resident on one of my favorite rotations.” 
You continue to talk about Caitlin, and you miss the way that Wanda squints at you before tilting her head in question. You’re still thinking about how you’re shocked that Caitlin remembered you when Wanda speaks up and knocks the wind out of your sails. 
“You and Caitlin knew each other?” 
You pause when Wanda says this because technically yes. You knew of each other, but you didn’t talk beyond what was required of you when you had cases with her. You weren’t friends. As soon as you acknowledge this you realize that Wanda’s asking something very specific that you have the urge to ignore. You realize your mistake too late though and you merely shake your head before averting your gaze to your dog. You scratch his ears before waiting to see if Wanda was as astute as you feared. 
“No, not really. Our paths crossed a couple of times, but only during those 2 weeks.”
There’s a prolonged silence and you can’t help but look up curiously. Your hopes are dashed as Wanda shoots you a skeptical look. You hold back a sigh and speak up before your wife has a chance to. 
“I may have had a massive crush on her, and seeing her tonight was a shock to my system.” 
Wanda doesn’t really know how to respond to this, and she thinks back to when she’d taken you to her high school reunion. She’d seen her high school crush there and you’d been with her at the time. It had led to one of your few serious fights, and she wonders if you’d felt similarly to how she does now. 
The only difference is that you had been with her when you had a crush on this woman. Wanda’s not sure if you’d mentioned her at all. Wanda was now wondering if there had been others. 
You seem oblivious to her plight, and you continue to muse about this redhead that Wanda really can’t decide if she wants to know more about or not. 
“It seems silly to me now. I didn’t want it to go anywhere, and the idea that she’s here now? It just makes me think that I was such a child.” 
You roll your eyes at the thought of how much a simp you were and how this was your way of coping with the stress, long hours, and sleep-deprivation of being at school more often than not back then. Still you shake your head at your foolishness. You always did find it easier to listen to and learn from an attractive woman, but this was the first time you’ve ever seen them after the fact. You miss Wanda’s confused look as you double over and start laughing in embarrassment.
“You had a crush on her?” 
You nod as you wipe tears from your eyes before confirming your wife’s suspicions.
“Yeah, I did, well I-not really. I thought she was attractive and smart, but it’s not like I wanted to date her. Obviously.”
You say the last part for Wanda’s benefit despite it being true because you realize that she might be taking this the wrong way. Or rather she may be insulted by this because you probably would be too. Despite loving Wanda and not wanting to be with anyone but her, you weren’t blind to the people around you. You noticed attractive people, and you’re not sure if that’s about to get you in trouble. 
Wanda frowns as she considers this and decides to ask only one more question. She’s not in the mood to be upset with you, but that will all depend on what you say next. 
“Okay…Did you ever think about being with her?” 
This question gets your attention and you immediately shake your head. It was pretty shallow of you honestly, but you’d only really sought her out because you always learned something whenever you talked to her, and she was a beautiful redhead. Although not the most beautiful. 
“Not for more than a conversation about nerdy things. She was…is pretty but it doesn’t go past that for me. Plenty of people are pretty and smart, but I only want one pretty and smart…kinda redhead.” 
You laugh when Wanda shoots you a glare before shoving you back against the cushions. You just smile at her as she crawls into your lap and wraps her arms around your neck. She leans in close to you but pulls back when you try to close the distance and kiss her. She eyes you carefully and underneath her curiosity you see a glimmer of fear, and you hate that you’re responsible for it. 
“You promise?” 
You nod as you squeeze her hips and hum under your breath. You can’t imagine ever wanting anyone like you want Wanda, and you hope that never changes. 
“I promise. You’re it for me, Wands. Only you.” 
As much fun as your night out had been, you’re grateful to be home with your beautiful wife. You wouldn’t trade the feeling of being with the woman you love for anything. 
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roosterforme · 1 year
Text
The Younger Kind Part 3 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley goes on another unremarkable date before heading home early. You stay and have a drink with him while you fix up his dating profile. Maybe now he will find some more compatible matches. 
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
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Bradley started his Friday morning the same way he always did; by running around the house in a complete disarray. 
"Noah, eat your waffles. We're going to be late," he said, his flight suit hanging halfway off his torso. 
"I want cereal," he whined, and Bradley ran his hands over his face and sighed. Then he got a bowl of cereal ready and finished eating the waffles himself.
After burning his tongue on coffee that was way too hot and eating a handful of sour blueberries, Bradley was hauling Noah out to the Bronco and buckling him in. 
"Is my babysitter coming again?" Noah asked on the way to daycare. He had been asking Bradley that all week. 
"You had a lot of fun with her?" he asked as he pulled into the parking lot. "You liked her?"
"Yeah. Bring her back."
Bradley smiled and then he cringed. He liked you, too. And he'd made a complete ass of himself, flirting with you like you and he were the same age. You'd been sweet about it though. He wouldn't do it again. 
"She's going to come over again tonight," Bradley told his son as they walked into the daycare. "You can play with her all you want."
At least Noah looked happy about it. Bradley had mixed feelings about the way he would be spending his evening. He was going out with a woman from the app, his first foray into online dating. Her photos looked nice, and she was a thirty-four year old publicist. He had no idea what he was going to talk to her about, but he was meeting her at a sleek martini bar at her suggestion. He didn't even like martinis. 
"Bye, bub," Bradley said, kissing Noah and dashing back out to make it to base on time. 
And of course he was already starving again. He kept meaning to leave some snacks in the car since he was always running all over town. The first person he saw as his stomach growled was Nat.
"Did you not eat breakfast?" she asked as they walked across the tarmac. 
"I don't have any food at my house, and I don't have time to go grocery shopping," he growled, grabbing a smashed granola bar out of his helmet bag. "And I can't go tonight, because I have a date from that fucking app you put on my phone!"
Bradley was absolutely not in the mood to go on this date. However, Nat looked delighted.
"That's great!"
"Is it? Is it really? Because I'm meeting her at a fancy martini bar. I don't like martinis, and I don't like getting dressed up."
Nat rolled her eyes. "It's your first date using the app. It'll be fine."
Bradley headed straight for his F/A-18 and started to climb into the cockpit. He had the fleeting thought that he would rather be at home all evening, coloring and eating those peanut butter covered carrot sticks with you and Noah. 
-----------------------
You woke up late on Greyson's couch with a stiff neck and a growling stomach. As you walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water before leaving for your first class, you found Greyson, hungover and eating Cheetos. 
"Hey," he groaned, holding his head. "You coming back over tonight."
"No," you told him, reaching for a glass. "I'm babysitting later."
He pouted in a way that you used to think was adorable when you and he were in a relationship. "But we didn't even get to mess around last night," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.
You managed to slip out of his grip before he got Cheeto gunk all over you. "Don't ask me to come over anymore if you're just planning on playing video games."
He just looked at you like you had two heads. "Isn't our arrangement to have fun together? You could have played too."
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll text you when I'm free, Greyson. Maybe we can hang out then." 
You ducked into his bathroom to get changed and get ready to go, and you just knew stopping for coffee wasn't going to be an option. You would have to hope like hell that you'd have time to get coffee and something to eat when you left campus and headed to Bradley's house later. 
You already really liked it there. None of his mugs matched. The area rug in the living room had a snag in it. Noah had colored on the wall in the hallway. It was cozy, cluttered and lived in. And you liked the way Bradley and Noah filled the space. 
"Stop thinking about him," you mumbled as you drove yourself to class. 
Your day went by in a blur. You'd managed to get a snack and some coffee around lunchtime, but your last lecture ran late. You had the choice to stop for food or get yourself cleaned up a bit before heading to Bradley's house. 
"Stop thinking about him!" you mumbled again as you stopped in a bathroom to fix your lipgloss and your hair. Surprisingly, you didn't actually look too bad for having slept on a couch. And now you could just make yourself some coffee in Bradley's kitchen using one of his silly mugs. 
-----------------------
Bradley ran through the locker room like it was a race.
"What's your problem, Rooster?" Hangman asked him, looking like he had whiplash as Bradley dashed past.
"I've got more than one, I can assure you," Bradley grumbled, pulling on clean underwear, gym shorts and a tank. "I need to stop for groceries and get Noah and be home by 6. See you on Monday."
He only had time to stop at the store he didn't like, but it was on his way to get Noah. He grabbed some fruit, macaroni and cheese, a few frozen meals, pasta sauce, and French vanilla coffee creamer. Then he picked up Noah, out of breath by the time he was buckling him into his carseat. 
"Can we see the babysitter now?" Noah asked with a smile. 
Bradley kissed his forehead. "Yeah, bub. We can go see her now." Bradley was almost as excited about the idea as Noah was. 
Your car was already there when he pulled into his driveway at 6:15. Shit, he had told you he would have dinner ready for you. Fuck, he was supposed to meet his date in less than an hour. 
"Let's go inside," Bradley said, scooping Noah up with one arm and carrying the groceries and his flight suit in the other. You must have let yourself in, because the door was unlocked. "It's just us," he called out, and you poked your head out of the kitchen. Bradley was already grinning as you smiled at both of them and came to get Noah from him. 
"Hey, Noah. Ready to color again?" you asked, taking the child in your arms. Bradley's heart skipped around awkwardly as you smiled at him over your shoulder on your way back to the kitchen. That lipgloss was like a beacon, and he followed right behind you. 
"I started making dinner," you told him. "I hope you don't mind."
Mind? Bradley couldn't think of anything better than you, coloring with Noah and making dinner. 
"I'm sorry. I was supposed to have done that."
You just shrugged and set Noah down on one of the kitchen chairs. There was an assortment of coloring and craft supplies in front of him, and he got right to work. 
"I figured you two got held up. I'm just making spaghetti, nothing crazy." Bradley watched you stir the noodles. Usually when he did that, they ended up in a gigantic clump. 
"Well, thanks. I did get some pasta sauce. And I think there are some meatballs in the freezer. Oh, and this is for you."
He watched you turn to face him, and your eyes lit up when he handed you the coffee creamer. It was as if he'd just handed you a bouquet of flowers or twenty bucks. 
"Thank you," you sighed softly. "I didn't get enough coffee today."
Bradley turned on the coffee maker for you. "That's pretty much the only thing I always have here. Drink as much as you want, please." He ran his hand through his messy hair. "I could use some too, I think."
"What time is your date?" you asked, turning toward Noah and finding him coloring the page with the hippos on it. 
Bradley's eyes went wide. "I have to be there in thirty minutes," he said, grimacing as you strained the pasta. 
You laughed. "Guys have it so easy. You can throw on some jeans and a nice shirt. Run your fingers through your hair, and bam, you're ready to go out."
He watched you work from behind, taking in your jean shorts and tee shirt. He should really be getting ready to go, but he didn't want to move away from you. "Nah, women have it easier."
You looked up at him over your shoulder again, something that already made Bradley smile. 
"Now this reasoning, I've just got to hear," you said, raising one eyebrow.
"Guys don't need a lot to work with. Makeup and all that stuff? Don't need it. Is it nice sometimes? Sure, I guess. But just hanging out at home, eating popcorn in my pajamas with the right girl sounds pretty good right now."
"Yeah," you agreed, scooping spaghetti into three bowls. "It does. Maybe that's what Noah and I will do later."
And now Bradley was jealous of his three year old child. 
-----------------------
You watched Bradley inhale a bowl of plain spaghetti in his fitted jeans and blue dress shirt. He looked like any woman's dream date, and you were sure he would end up scoring a second date if he wanted one. 
"Bye, bub. Be good," he said, kissing Noah on his forehead. And when he took a step closer to you, a brief flash of him kissing you on your forehead crossed your mind. You bit your lip to keep from gasping, and his eyes tracked the motion. 
When Bradley's lips parted before he swallowed hard, you had to reach behind you for the edge of the counter. 
"I'll have my phone on. Not sure how long I'll be out. Should be home by ten?"
"Sounds good," you told him in a soft breathy voice. "No rush."
As he was turning to leave he reminded you, "Seriously, you're welcome to eat or drink anything you find."
You just nodded as he strolled through the living room and left to go make some other woman feel like she just won the lottery. 
"Hey Noah, wanna sing some songs while I do some meal prepping for you guys?" you asked. 
He was now sitting in the middle of the floor with his blocks out. "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star!"
"Good choice." You sang song after song, occasionally stopping to help him with his building projects. You sipped your coffee out of a mug that said My best friend went to Glacier Bay and only bought me this stupid mug while you portioned out spaghetti and meatballs. At least this way Noah and Bradley would have something to get them through the weekend. 
You found some frozen chicken, and next time you could make them some fajitas or something with it. But this was the saddest kitchen you had ever seen. Well maybe besides Greyson's. 
And that was the first time you had thought about him all day. You hadn't stopped thinking about Bradley and Noah. 
"Another song!" Noah exclaimed, and you started Old MacDonald for him. You put the containers of spaghetti into the refrigerator and sat on the floor with your mug of coffee. After building a few towers, you got Noah to agree to make some construction paper crafts. 
"Can you make me a dog?" he asked, and you made him a sad looking red dog. That was followed by a weird looking yellow cat and a blue moose. 
"Let's make you a crown so you can be Prince Noah," you said, pushing his dark hair back from his forehead. He looked a lot like Bradley. He was so cute, you wondered what his mom looked like. You wondered what happened to her. She didn't seem to be involved at all, and Bradley never talked about her. 
"And you can be a Princess!" he shouted. 
"Sure," you said with a laugh. And half an hour later, there was a mess of construction paper all over the floor and a giggling child in your arms. 
"We can watch one short cartoon, and then it's your bedtime," you told him. He already looked sleepy, and he couldn't stop yawning. He sat next to you on the couch with his yellow crown crooked on his head. Your own purple crown was a little crooked too, but you didn't want to take it off yet. 
You didn't want to bother Bradley on his date, but you snapped a quick photo of Noah in his crown and texted it to him. You got an immediate text back.
Bradley Bradshaw: He looks cute. Where's your crown?
You pressed your lips together. Should you send him a selfie while he was on a date? Before you could change your mind, you took one and checked it before sending it to him as well. 
Bradley Bradshaw: A crown fit for a princess.
You led Noah into the bathroom to get ready for bed with a gigantic smile on your face. You helped him brush his teeth and get changed into pajamas. You read him three books and got him a sip of water, but you were still smiling. 
"Let's leave your crown on your dresser," you told Noah, gently taking it off his head as he sank back onto his pillow. "Good night," you whispered, but he was already falling asleep. 
You felt soft and warm inside as you cleaned up the mess on the kitchen floor. You emptied the dishwasher and cleaned the counters. You picked up the toys on the living room floor. When you opened up a bag of Skittles and just started to settle in with a textbook, you got another message. 
Bradley Bradshaw: I'll be home soon. Didn't want to scare you again.
It wasn't even 9 o'clock yet! Why was he already coming home? You weren't going to complain. The idea of him kissing his date goodnight or bringing her back here left a weird taste in your mouth. You popped a few Skittles to try to make it go away. 
A couple minutes later, when the front door opened, you nearly choked on your candy. God, he was so hot. He was carrying a six-pack of beer and a bottle of wine, and you couldn't help but wish he'd invite you to hang out longer. 
"You're home so early," you said from your spot on the couch, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Was your date awful? Or did she take one look at you and bail?" you asked, barely able to contain your laughter as you adjusted your paper crown. 
His lips parted as he huffed out a laugh. Then he glared at you as he headed your way. "Okay, Princess. First of all, yes, she was awful."
You were about to ask what happened, but he continued on.
"And second, no woman has ever taken a look at me and decided not to come back for a second one." He was staring down at you on the couch, and now you couldn't remember what you were going to say. 
You pressed your lips together as heat flared through your body. "You know, I believe that," you said softly, making him chuckle. "What was wrong with her?"
He just shook his head and heaved a sigh. "Doesn't like kids."
You scoffed. "Well she'd like Noah if she gave him a chance. He's an angel."
Bradley smiled down at you before taking a seat on the couch so that his thigh was rubbing yours.
"Was he good tonight? No tears at bedtime?"
"Mmm, he was perfect," you managed to say as his body heat radiated through his pant leg.
"That's good. Hey, I need a drink. Do you want something?" he asked, holding up the wine and the beer. "I wasn't sure what you liked, but I sure as hell wasn't about to drink a thirty dollar martini."
He had thought about you when his date ended. He had thought about coming back here and having a drink with you. He had thought about what you might like. You needed to catch your breath. "Sure. I'll go grab some glasses." When you started to move, Bradley pressed the wine bottle against your leg.
"No, I'll go. You stay here."
You watched him walk away, and then you buried your face in your hands. You'd never make it out of here with your dignity intact if he kept being so sweet.
"You cleaned the kitchen," he called from the next room. He returned with two mismatched glasses and a corkscrew. "You didn't have to do that."
"I made you some meals, too. Your refrigerator reminds me of my ex-boyfriend's fraternity house," you said, pretending to shudder as he looked at you.
"Ex-boyfriend, huh? Is there a current one?"
You were going to melt. You were going to slide onto the floor and pass out. "No." You were surprised your voice came out as steady as it did. He looked pleased. He was smiling as he sat down next to you again.
"That's good. Wouldn't want to keep you here in the evenings and make him miss you. Wine or beer?"
It took you a second to realize he was asking you a question. "Um, wine." Your mouth felt dry as you watched him open the bottle and pour some for you. "So did you just ditch your date and stop at the liquor store?"
Bradley snorted as he poured himself some wine as well. "Pretty much. I should have known it would be bad from the get go, you know?" he asked, setting the bottle down and clinking his glass to yours. "She likes the opera and martini bars, and I... don't. Not that I can't hang, but I would just rather-"
"Eat popcorn on your couch in your pajamas. Yeah, I know," you said with a smirk. He just looked at you again like he couldn't quite make sense of you. "So where did you meet her anyway?" You picked up your bag of Skittles and ate a few before handing them to him.
"On an app," he said before he dumped a few directly into his mouth. 
"You're on a dating app?" You were surprised.
"Yep. My friend hijacked my phone and downloaded it. I don't even know what all she put in my profile." 
"Gimme your phone," you said, holding out your hand. "I want to see it."
He just entered his passcode and groaned. "Fine, but I get to finish the Skittles." He handed over his phone and then dumped all of the remaining candy into his mouth. You watched him chew for a moment before you looked down at his phone. 
"Holy shit," you whispered. 
"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning a little closer to you.
"Nothing, it's just your photo."
"Is it bad? Nat said all my photos were terrible."
You laughed right at him. "No. It's very good."
----------------------
Bradley was not going to be able to keep his cool for much longer. He just sipped his wine, wishing there was more candy for him to stuff into his mouth. 
"It's good?" he asked you as you scrolled through his profile.
"Oh yeah. Both of them are. But you need more photos than just the two. Wait, golden retriever energy?" You burst out laughing and let your eyes wander all over his face. "Yeah, I can see that."
"I still don't understand what that means," he grumbled, leaning closer again as you opened the tab for his matches. 
"You have almost three hundred women trying to chat you up!" 
He just scratched his mustache. "I do? Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Look," you said, holding the phone up. "That's insane. Didn't you set any filters?"
"Huh?"
"Filters," you mumbled. "There's gotta be... oh, here we go. You need filters. Otherwise you look desperate. Or like you just want to hook up." You met his eyes, seemingly searching for an answer.
"I'm not desperate. And I don't want to just hookup," he promised, leaning back against the couch and watching you work.
You leaned back too, nearly resting your face against his shoulder. He wished he could just match with you on the app and call it a day. 
"Okay, what's the age range you're into?" you asked softly, your purple crown sliding down a little bit on your forehead as you juggled his phone and your glass of wine. 
"Um, I guess my age?"
You rolled your eyes at him. "You're only interested in women who are specifically thirty-six years old?"
"Well, no. I guess broader than that," he replied. He was about to say twenty-five to forty, but he changed his mind at the last second. "How about twenty-four to forty?"
You looked at him and smiled. "Okay," you murmured, typing something into the app. "Now there's a little checklist where you can make different selections. Would you date someone with kids?"
"Yes."
"How about a smoker?"
"No."
"What about...." 
Bradley listened to you ask him each question, and he answered all of them for you. But he couldn't stop looking at you, curling up closer and closer to him. Your face was so cute and animated. Your eyes were so expressive.
"And now," you said, grinning at him. "It's time for some more pictures. You don't have any other photos saved to your phone?"
"You can look. But it's all just pictures of Noah," he said, realizing too late that when you opened his photo gallery, his most recent one was the selfie you sent him. 
"Oh," you whispered, grinning down at his phone before pressing your lips together. Bradley was too embarrassed to say anything, so he just let you swipe through his photos. "Mostly Noah," you said softly, still smiling at all of them. "Looks like I'll just have to take some."
You held up his phone and took a picture of him before he could stop you. "Oh, please don't post that," he told you, reaching for his phone, but you held it up over your head in an effort to keep it away from him.
"What? You looked okay," you said, glancing up at the screen. "It needs a little something extra though." Carefully, you removed your paper crown and set it on his head, your fingers brushing through his hair. They were gone in an instant, but now he was craving your touch. It was insane how close you were to him. You shouldn't be this close.
"How's it look?" he whispered.
"So cute," you said with a laugh, and he let you snap a photo. "We could post this one and say A Prince looking for his Princess."
"Absolutely not."
"Come on! I'm sure anyone would jump at the chance for a second or third date with that!"
Your whole face was lit up when you talked, and Bradley just wanted to play along. "Nope," he said. "It's your crown anyway. Maybe I'll just stick with calling you Princess." He gently set it on your head again, letting his fingers graze your hair. 
You sucked in a deep breath. "Only for you and Noah. He did tell me I was a pretty Princess earlier." 
Bradley wanted to kiss you. He really thought you would let him if he tried it. He let his knuckles brush against your cheek before he pulled his hand away, causing your eyes to flutter closed while your lips parted. 
"Looks better on you anyway," he whispered, memorizing the way your eyelashes brushed your cheek where his hand had just been. 
Why couldn't he feel even a fraction of this attraction to either of the women he'd gone on a proper date with? Women who were his age. What was he even thinking here?
It was as if you could read his mind when you opened your eyes. "Well, if you'd just sit nicely for me, I could take an additional photo for the app. That plus the filters should have you matching with people who you're more compatible with."
Bradley swallowed hard. "Fine," he agreed, and you were smiling so much, he couldn't help smiling too. When you showed him the photo, he had to agree that he looked pretty good, and then you were adding it to his profile.
"There," you said, finally handing back his phone as you stood and stretched in front of him. Your arms were high over your head, and your back was arched like some sort of depraved ballerina from his fantasies. Jesus, he knew he could get hard for you instantly, and that thought terrified him. 
"Thanks," he mumbled, his voice so deep and raspy.
"Now, instead of a million pointless messages and matches, hopefully you'll have a handful of good ones."
Your words made sense, and he mulled over them as you gathered up your things and headed to the front door. 
"You'll text me when you want me again?" you asked softly, and Bradley nearly moaned.
"I will," he agreed, closing and locking the door behind you with a soft groan.
-----------------------
Good job, Princess. You just made him more likely to find a match online. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 4
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scarletlizzard · 8 months
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Caller ID
Pairings: wanda x reader
Tags: little bit a fluff as always, angst, sad ×2
A/n: I would love to hear what you guys think! Messages are always open and taking requests. Thanks so so much for reading. More soon! ♡
Masterlist
Ring. Ring. Ring.
It couldn't be possible, right?
Ring. Ring. Ring.
There was no way you were calling Wanda, not after everything that happened.
She sat on the couch, staring at the caller ID that read your name on the phone that she held in her hand. A picture of you flashes on the screen. With a shaky hand, she hits the green button, bringing the phone to her ear.
"H-Hello?"
"Little witch..." Wanda lets out a small breath as she hears you use your nickname for her.
"Y/N? She asks, trying to calm herself.
"Hi, little witch. Did you miss me?" Your voice is soft, a happy tone.
Wanda closes her eyes at your words, biting her lip. "Of course, sweetheart. Every single day.."
"I miss you too.. I just wanted to hear your voice again. It's... it's been too long." You sigh as you speak, Wanda nods even though you can't see her. "Tell me a story, Wanda."
"A story?"
"Yeah, a story. How about our first date?" Wanda can practically hear your smile, and she can't help but laugh.
"Our first date.." Wanda smiles as she thinks back to one of her favorite memories.
***
It had been 4 months since Wanda moved into the Avengers Compound. 4 months of the two of you watching sitcoms late at night, cooking Sokovian dishes in the kitchen, being a shoulder to cry on when Wanda needed it. 4 months of being afraid to tell her how you really felt.
You took a deep breath as you stood outside her door, a bouquet of yellow daisies in your hand. Before you can knock at the door, you see red whisps around the handle, the door opening in front of you. Wanda sits on her bed, hand raised and fingers burning red. She smiles widely at the sight of you standing there with your fist raised, flowers in your hand.
"Hi.." Is all you manage out, a stupid grin on your face. Wanda chuckles and stands up, walking closer to you. "You knew I was out there, huh?" You ask her and shut the door behind you.
"Your thoughts are.. very loud, detka," she says softly, standing in front of you. You feel your cheeks burn at the realization she already knew why you were here, a blush creeping up your neck. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Wanda smiles.
You take a deep breath, holding the flowers out to her. "Wanda I-" You pause, trying to find the right words. You had practiced this in your head for an hour, but now that you were standing in front of her and she was looking at you with those beautiful green eyes. All your thoughts flew out the window. "Will you.. uh.."
Wanda reaches out to take the flowers from you, her soft fingertips brushing against yours. "Will I..?" She says, looking at you knowingly as she smells the flowers. You chuckle and scratch the back of your head, not believing the effect the witch had on you.
"Will you please go on a date... with me. Tonight?"
Wanda looks at your red cheeks, the small nervous twitch of your fingers, the way her hoodie hugged your body. She knew what you were coming to ask her, and she couldn't be happier.
"Of course I will, Y/N.." Her hand reaches up to cup your cheek, reassuringly moving her thumb across your skin. You lean into her touch with a wide smile, taking over your face.
"You already knew, huh?"
"Kind of.." Wanda laughs, and you can't help but laugh along with her.
Later that night, the two of you had left the compound and got dinner at Wandas' favorite restaurant, dessert at your favorite ice cream shop.
"I swear, Wands. Once you try it, you'll never be able to enjoy any other ice cream again," you say with a serious expression, holding out an ice cream cone to her. Wanda could only chuckle at your demeanor, taking the cone from you. She licked along the vanilla cream, hot fudge warming her lips. You watch her with careful eyes.
"Well?" You ask.
"Holy shit.. this is amazing!"
You laugh at her words, nodding your head and enjoying your own cone. She took your hand in hers, letting your fingers tangle between the two of you. You led her a few streets down, pausing in front of a tall building. Wanda looks up, down to you.
"Feel like flying a little?" You smirk at her, catching the sparkle in her eyes. You look up, using your powers to fly up into the air and onto the roof of the building. Wanda flies behind you, red swirls circling around her. When she lands on the roof, she sees a couple of old chairs set up, strands of light hanging around them. Walking forward, she sees a few dead plants and a couple of comic books.
"Yeah, I uh, this is where I usually come to just... stop. You know? I haven't been in a while since, well, since you came into my life." Wanda turns to look at you as you speak, and you're stood staring at her with a smile on your face. You take a step towards her.
"Wanda, ever since we met, I've just.. I feel like I've finally learned how to breathe. Everything before you was black and white and now.." You reach over to one of the dead plants that sat on the ground, the tips of your fingers glowing yellow as you touch it. Wanda watches with amusement as the plant comes to life, its dark branches becoming bright green, and its wilted leaves blooming wildly at your touch. "I truly feel alive when I'm with you."
There's a moment where neither of you speak or say a word, just looking into the other ones eyes. Wanda steps closer, closing the gap between the two of you. Her hands cup your cheeks, and a smile plays on her lips.
"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this moment?" She whispers, breath fanning against your mouth. Instead of replying, you lean forward, connecting your lips with hers.
***
"We spent the whole night on that roof, watching the stars.. I didn't want to stop kissing you," Wanda admits with a chuckle, hearing you laugh from the other side of the phone.
"I miss your kisses... I love the way you kiss me. You always kiss me like it's the first and last time," Your voice trails, Wanda feels her heart race.
"Y/N..."
"Wands, I have to go now.. I'll call you tomorrow. Okay?"
"Okay, detka."
Wanda hears a click as you end the call. She sits there for what feels like hours before her phone rings again. She quickly looks at the screen, hopes diminishing she sees Natashas name light up. Wanda sighs and shakes her head, declining the call. She turns the TV on and turns on a random sitcom, watching until her eyes burn and she can no longer keep them open.
The Next Day
Wanda woke up late in the day, immediately checking her phone. The only calls she has missed are a few from Natasha. She rubs her eyes and wonders if last night was a dream, but when she checks her call history, it clearly shows your name.
After a slow start, she spends the day cleaning, in case anyone decides to stop by. They did that a lot now, randomly showing up at her door. Mostly Natasha. By night time, she was pacing her bedroom and biting her nails. The other hand held her phone.
Maybe you weren't going to call.
Maybe you had changed your mind.
Maybe you didn't want to talk to her.
Her own thoughts were caught off guard by the strong buzzing in her hand. She looked down and found herself smiling as your face popped up on the screen.
"Little witch.. I told you I was going to call," you chuckle softly. Wanda shakes her head.
"How do you always know what I'm thinking? I'm supposed to be the mind reader." Wanda jokes.
"Because you're my favorite book, and I've memorized every word. Cover to cover, read a million times."
Wanda lays on her back on the bed and closes her eyes. She always loved the way you spoke to her, no matter how cheesy the words came out.
"You know me better than anyone, better than anyone ever will... Are you okay, Y/N?"
"I'm perfect now that I'm talking to you." Wanda pictures you smiling against the phone.
"Tell me a story, Wands. Please?"
She thinks for a moment, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling above her.
"I remember the first time I told you I loved you." Wanda smiles as she hears you sigh happily.
***
It was pouring rain, it had been for days now.
You and Wanda had enjoyed it, staying in your room with her favorite sitcoms playing and cuddling close under the covers. Currently, you had your head on Wandas chest, listening to her soft breathing. It was calming, hearing the steady beat of her heart. She twirled a strand of your hair on her finger, staring down at you.
"What are you thinking about, detka?" She asks.
"Nothing in particular.. mostly about you." You can't help but giggle, and Wanda can't help the warmth in her body as she hears your laugh.
"What about me?" She raises her eyebrow, watching as you sit up. You smirk at her, giving her a mischievous smile.
"I was just wondering... how ticklish you are!" You quickly move to straddle her waist, hands attacking her sides. Wanda throws her head back in fits of laughter, trying to swat your hands away. "Oooh, looks like you are very ticklish, little witch!" You're laughing with her now, feeling nothing but pure joy.
Red clouds form around you, and Wandas eyes glow red as she flips the two of you around, pinning you your hands to the bed. You're both panting now, trying to catch your breath as you calm down from laughing. Wanda is smiling down at you with emerald eyes, the brightest smile you've ever seen on her face.
"I love you, Y/N.." She speaks softly, face becoming more serious as she looks at you.
"Y-You do?" You whisper back, mouth parted and eyebrows raised. She nods.
"I love you so, so much.." She leans forward to kiss you passionately, putting all of her love for you into it. She wanted you to know how much she loved you and how important you were to her.
"I love you, Wanda," you mumble into the kiss, feeling her lips curl up into a smile. The two of you stop for a second, each taking in the moment of what you both just said.
The rain hits the windows harshly as she kisses you again, and you know in this moment, you are loved.
***
"I love that story," you say with another sigh. "We made love the entire night.. I think Tony almost kicked us out. We weren't there much long after that." You were giggling now, and Wanda could almost see the blush on your cheeks as she smiled.
"I love you, Y/N.. come home," Wanda whispers into the phone, turning on her side on the bed. She pictures you there, drawing circles on her back. "Come home to me.." She begs.
"Oh little witch.. I love you so much. I love hearing our stories. I have to go. We can talk more tomorrow?"
Wanda squeezes her eyes shut.
"Of course, sweetheart."
The call ends, and Wandas left alone, staring at the dark screen of her phone. A few minutes later, a text message pops up.
Nat - Hey, Wanda. Everything is prepared, Tony is planning for the day after tomorrow. Call me back.. if I don't hear back, I'm coming over.
Wanda - I'll be there. Can you pick me up?
Nat - Of course. It starts at 1, I'll pick you up at 12.
Wanda takes a deep breath and runs a shaky hand through her hair. Before she lays down, she turns the ringer on her phone up all the way.
The Next Morning
Wanda was looking in the closet for something to wear for tomorrow. Nothing seemed right. She angrily tossed the clothes on the ground, ripping shirt after shirt and pant after pant off of the hangers and onto the ground. She fell to her knees in the pile of clothes, her head in her hands.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
She peeked through her hands, listening to her phone ring. When she heard it again, she ran across the room to grab it, immediately pressing the green button.
"Good morning, my love." All of Wandas worries melted off her body, the wrinkles on her forehead disappearing as she heard your voice.
"Detka.. I wasn't expecting you to call until later," She says, staring at the now empty closet. Wanda flicks her wrist, and the clothes begin hanging themselves back up. "Not that I'm mad about it." She adds in.
"I couldn't help myself, I missed you."
"God, detka. I miss you so much." Wanda sits on the ground, her back leaning against the bed.
"I know, little witch. But I'll see you soon." Your words comfort her, and she finds herself smiling. "I know things have been so hard for you lately, but I'm always here for you... My sweet Wanda..." Your tone is cheerful, Wandas heart skips a beat.
"Want to hear another story, sweetheart?" Wanda asks.
"I think today I'll tell you one, Wands."
"Oh? What about?"
"The happiest week of my life."
Wanda freezes, clenching the phone in her hand. She nods slowly and lets out a sigh, "Okay."
"I remember it was a beautiful day, the perfect day.."
***
"I do."
"I definitely do," you say with a smile on your face, squeezing Wandas hands.
"You may now kiss the bride!"
Wanda pulls you closer, dipping you back as her lips press firmly against yours. Your arms wrap around her, both of you smiling into the kiss it almost wasn't a kiss. Just your faces pressed against each other.
When you pull back, you hear the slow claps of Natasha and Tony, the only other ones in the courtroom.
"So when's the honeymoon?" Tony smirks at the two of you, the four of you standing outside the courthouse.
"Hopefully soon," Wanda says with a smile, squeezing your hand in hers.
"Alright, well, we're having a party tomorrow night at the compound. No questions asked! Pepper is going to be furious that there wasn't a wedding." Tony laughs, Natasha along with him.
"Fine, fine. We'll be there!" You say, squeezing Wandas hand back.
***
"We couldn't even wait to have a wedding, remember baby? I just wanted to marry you so badly. I wanted to have your name.."
"Mrs. Maximoff.. I called you that all night, all week." Tears were threatening to fall from her shiny emerald eyes as she thinks back to the day. You giggle from the other side of the phone.
"We had on those rings we won from the arcade. Remember the one around the corner from our apartment?"
Wanda stands to look out of the window. She can see the flashing lights, even in the daytime, of the pizza/arcade place. She pictures the two of you walking hand and hand down the street.
"We were supposed to go on our honeymoon after that, but Steve called..."
**
"Why do they need you? And if they do I can go with you!" Wanda sighs as she watches you pack your bag, noticing you take a few of her shirts. She puts her hand on yours and lifts it up, kissing the ring on your finger. You smile at her.
"Little witch... I won't be gone long. They need me because I'm the whole reason why it all started." You sit on the bed, pulling her down with you and wrapping an arm around her. You sigh and kiss her cheek.
"I've told you about my past, how-" You pause, trying to find the right words.
"I haven't always been good. I've done some fucked up things and, I've got to make things right." Wanda sits and listens, understanding. Before she can ask to come again you stand up. "Besides, someone has to take care of Wade for me!" You smile and point to the fish tank on your end table, a bright red beta fish swims around.
Wanda looks at you, then to your fish. You both understood why you didn't want Wanda to go. It was going to be dangerous. She knows, of all people, what kind of past you lived. You hurt people, innocent people, for a cause you thought you believed in. She understood. So when the time came, she kissed you goodbye, kissing you like it was the first and last time.
"I'll call you.." You mumble in between kisses.
"Every.." Kiss. "Single.." Kiss. "Day.." Kiss. Wanda knew her kisses were your weakness, and it worked for a while. You were an hour late to meet Steve, but the smile on her face was worth it.
"You promise you'll call?" Wanda asks, standing in the doorway. You kiss her softly.
"I promise. I love you, little witch." You step back, a smile on your face. She couldn't help but smile back. You knew your smile was her weakness.
"I love you more, detka.."
**
"You kissed me for an hour straight," You laugh into the phone, Wanda wipes the tears off of her cheeks, laughing along with you.
"I really didn't want you to leave.. why did you leave?" She whispers the last part. You're quiet for a moment.
"I wanted to be a better person. I wanted to know that I did everything I could to make the world a better and safer place. For you.. for our kids."
Wanda sighs and sniffles, shaking her head.
"What were the names we picked out? I think we picked Billy..." Your tone is playful again. Wanda chuckles and rolls her eyes.
"Tommy.. We could never agree." She smiles through her tears.
"No, we never could, could we?" You sigh happily. "So maybe we'll have two."
"Twins run in my family," Wanda says, thinking of her own twin. More tears threatened to fall. She looks onto your side of the bed, a bright red fish swimming around in a tank on the nightstand.
"I know, sweetheart. I know. I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow. Okay? I love you."
Wanda sniffles, wiping her eyes, "I love you more."
The Next Day
"You ready?" Natasha asks, calling out to Wanda. She stood in Wandas living room, staring at a photo on the side table. It was a selfie of you and Wanda. She was kissing your cheek as you stuck your tongue out and closed your eyes. Natasha smiles at the sweet memory, being torn from her thoughts as Wanda walks into the room from down the hallway.
She decided she didn't care about an outfit. Wanda wore your favorite hoodie. It still smelled like your perfume. Natasha gives her a sad smile, pulling Wanda into her arms and hugging her tightly.
Wanda left the apartment with Natasha for the first time in weeks. She didn't really speak as Natasha drove. Wanda only listened to her and occasionally nodded her head. Wanda was focused on the clouds in the sky and the raindrops spilling from them. She was trying not to think of the phone in her pocket.
"The flowers are beautiful. Such a pretty yellow," Natasha says as she stares at the garden, holding an umbrella up over Wandas head. Wanda doesn't even try to wipe the tears that fall or bother to look at the others standing around her.
"Yellow daisies," is the only reply Natasha gets. As the two of them stand there together, Wanda feels her phone vibrate. She doesn't reach for it.
Her hand brushes against the dry leaves of a plant, once bright green but now a faded brown. As Wanda stares out into the city, her phone vibrates for the second time today. She inhales deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of the hoodie she wore. She answers the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID. She knows who it is.
"Little witch..." she hears as she puts the phone to her ear.
"Why didn't you answer my call?"
Wanda is silent for a moment, tears running down her face.
"Because I was at your funeral."
"I know. It was beautiful..." Wanda can't help the sobs that leave her mouth as she sits in the rickety chair.
"I don't understand," She says, chest tight as the sobs continue to thrash her shoulds forward.
"You do, Wands. Since the first call, you knew." She hears you sigh softly, your voice full of care. She felt as if her whole body was being hugged, just by hearing your voice.
Wanda thinks back to the day.
***
She was sitting in your shared apartment, watching TV. Her phone rang, and she looked at it excitedly, expecting to hear from you. Instead, she saw Natashas name.
"Wanda.." Her stomach dropped at the widows' sorrowful tone, the sniffle that came from the other side.
"Nat? What-whats wrong?" Wanda stands quickly.
"I'm on my way to you right now, I'll explain everything when I-"
"No! Tell me right now. What's going on? Is it Y/N? Is she hurt?" Wandas mind begins to race, her heart beating out of her chest at the thought of you getting hurt. Natasha sighs, another sniffle.
"No, Wanda, she- " Natasha pauses, not believing the words she is about to say. "Y/N got hurt, really bad. They said they did everything they could, but Wanda.. she didn't make it."
The phone in her hand drops to the floor, her whole body shaking. Nats' muffled voice can be heard from the phone, still speaking, but no one to listen. Wanda falls to the ground, the entire room burning red as she begins to sob. Natasha ran in only a few minutes later, finding the place a wreck.
She couldn't even have a funeral for you right away. They had to get you back.
***
"Why do you keep calling me?" Her voice is small, throat scratchy from the sobs.
"Because I promised I would."
Wanda sniffles, and you're quiet as she cries for a moment. When she calms a little, she looks over to the empty chair next to her on the roof. She didn't care if this was real or not. If she was losing her mind, if she was making this up. She was hearing your voice, and that was real enough.
"You'll call every day?" She stares at the sun setting, leaning back into the chair and inhaling deeply as she wraps your hoodie tighter around her.
"Every single day, little witch. How about another story?" Wanda hears the smile on your face and closes her eyes, rubbing the small bump of her stomach.
-----
A/n: I got this idea from a writing prompt that I can't find anymore! The prompt was -
"Why didn't you answer?"
"I was at your funeral."
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months
Note
Hi there! If stardew requests are still open i would like to ask you for one. Recently in your writing Shane has been very sad, which is great for angst and o loved reading that but i think we can both agree our boy needs some rest.
I was wondering if you could write some good ol' fluffy fluff with him and the farmer with prompt number 20 ("You look amazing tonight").
If you're busy or closing requests or just don't feel like writing this one that it's totally cool, no pressure. I hope you have a great day
The Dance of the Moonlight Jellies.
A summer spectacle that Shane attended like clockwork. He only ever went because of Jas, staying away from the saloon just for one night. For her and Marnie's sake...as he didn't want his aunt talking his ear off about staring at the aluminum can in his hands more than the ocean.
That was in years past.
This year, however, was different.
Because it's the first time he'd be seeing it with you by his side, and boy..was he looking forward to it.
Both of you arrived together a bit later than the other villagers, but only because there was a lot of farmwork to take care of..and time quickly got away from you.
Fortunately, your spouse remembered and you practically rushed to the beach together, praying that Major Lewis didn't launch the boat yet.
You would have used a warp to get here sooner, but the first time Shane used one of the mini obelisks...the effects of teleportation made him horribly sick, and he vowed to never touch one of those again.
That was understandable, and you refused to leave him behind. So you headed through the dark town square and to the docks.
With luck, you managed to arrive in the nick of time.
Instead of idly standing alone with a beer in-hand, Shane stood with your hand in his own. He still liked keeping the PDA subtle, never wanting to make a huge scene out of your relationship in public--despite the whole town being there at your wedding--but you didn't mind it.
Once everybody got into their places to witness the event, Lewis lit the candle and finally launched the boat out into the open sea.
For a minute, there was nothing...
And then they arrived.
Hues of lavender, blue, and green began to illuminate the dark waters, which Jas excitedly pointed out to Vincent and Leo, the latter being mesmerized by the jellies--as was everybody else who managed to catch a glimpse of the magnificent creatures that came closer to the surface.
You chuckled softly at the wonder in that boy's eyes, thanking Yoba that you were able to rescue him from a life of solitary on that island and introduce him to life here in the valley, before looking back at Shane and realizing...
He wasn't staring at the jellies anymore, but you.
Tilting your head, you smiled a bit, wondering what was going on inside his head right now. "Something on my face?"
"No..it's just..." For a moment, he felt breathless, his head dizzy (not from any beer for once) and his heart fuller than ever.
All he could do was look at you. The bioluminescent glow from below highlighted your best features, the lights reflecting in your eyes like stars.
'Wow..how did a guy like me get so lucky?'
"Just what?"
Coming back to reality, he just grew bashful at your persistence, being grateful you couldn't see the rising blush on his face.
"You look amazing tonight," he said with full confidence, only to find himself holding his breath afterwards.
As though he were expecting some negative reaction from you..
Was that a weird thing to say?
Was he being weird again...?
Your soft chuckles pulled him out of those thoughts, and you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks, so do you..but then again you look amazing everyday."
He snorted, although internally he was dying..in a good way. "Even when I'm out on the farm all sweaty and dirty?"
"Hey, you always compliment me when I look like that."
"..true, but-"
"Woah.."
"What?"
"Look! Your mermaid pendant is sparkling." You pointed out his necklace.
"Huh?" Glancing down, Shane held the shell between his fingers for a few seconds, staring in wonder at the tiny pinprick lights dancing across its surface. "Ah..guess you're right. It's pretty sparkly." He chuckled, before noticing a peculiar jelly lingering in front of you two.
Unlike the rest, it was a seafoam green.
"Babe, look..that's a rare jelly!" He pointed it out, his smile growing as you gasped, holding onto his hand even tighter. "They're really something, huh? Nature's pretty neat."
"Yeah, it's incredible....ah...and there they go." You hummed, watching the horde drifting away from the docks, a bit disappointed it was over so soon. "Bye, jellies!"
Once more, the glow of summer fades away, leaving everyone on the pier in darkness. But you knew they'll be back next year when Lewis sends off the candleboat, hopefully with bigger and brighter jellies.
You looked forward to seeing them again with Shane..and every year after that.
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bewiiitched · 1 month
Text
Sex doll (chapter seven)
WARNINGS: MDI, +18, alcoholism, violence, angst, a little of power background, fluff, smut, soft!Worst!Logan, P in V, creampie, age gap (reader mid 20's)
///////
It is only the background noise that ends up waking the mutant, and at first he sits up somewhat alarmed until his gaze travels to the end of the hallway, where the light in her bedroom is on and he can only assume that she is getting ready to go to work when his gaze focuses on the clock hanging on the wall, the fact that the room is in darkness is not a problem for him, since his senses adapt to the lack of light and he ends up deciding to sit up as well.
But the sound of the shower catches his attention and he grimaces, she is running late. He realizes this, since the light begins to filter through the curtains on the terrace.
She storms out of the room, her hair still wet and her uniform half-fixed, struggling to put on her apron, she walks blindly after turning off the light in the room so as not to wake him, her hand groping for her bag that she had left on the counter but she can't find it.
"Are you looking for this?" He mumbles, throwing the bag in her direction, the lack of light makes her not react in time, and it hits her abdomen but she catches it in time before it falls to the ground. He hears her curse under her breath.
“Did I wake you up?” she asks, rubbing the sore spot as she turns on the light, watching him close his eyes with a grimace, blinded by the sudden illumination. Logan groans, trying to adjust and lies back down on the couch, his gaze traveling to her but he doesn’t answer and sees her sigh, ending up putting the necessary things in the bag.
“Are you coming over tonight?” she asks, and out of the corner of her eye she can see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
//////////
The bar doesn't always close with him inside, sometimes he waits outside after closing time, but on this occasion, she hasn't even seen him all afternoon and it's been more than a quarter of an hour since she should have closed but there is still the same group of men who had arrived hours ago and were still getting drunk, some sitting at the bar while she was busy cleaning the tables and she had already wiped down the pool table only for them to use it again a while later.
Disguising her frustration was not an easy task, and the temptation to talk to his boss about reducing her hours was starting to sound better and better, one would think that she would have managed to control herself with months she had spent on the project, under Francis' supervision, but the reality was that everything had gone quite downhill since her desertion, trauma and containment surfacing even years later.
Logan's addition to her life had been chaotic, comforting too, but there was still a part of her that was reluctant to the closeness she was taking with him, as he had even opened up to tell her things about his past in his dimension and she had barely detailed her life.
The sound of breaking glass makes her raise her head abruptly, squeezing the cloth in her hand until her knuckles turn white and she only has to breathe slowly as her only option, out of the corner of her eye she sees the broken bottle of cheap alcohol they had ordered, and she gets up to reluctantly go get the broom and mop, she still hears them talking in a mix of screams and laughter about the situation.
It’s hard not to look at the clock as she approaches them to clean up the mess, and her patience begins to wear thin when one of them snatches the broom away from her under the pretense of cleaning up the mess, she barely has time to reprimand him under her apologies when she feels a hand on her forearm and instinctively her body tenses, holding back her powers.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I wouldn’t want a pretty little thing like you to get hurt.” His grip is shaky from all the alcohol in his system, but that doesn’t stop him from tightening to the point of pain as she reluctantly struggles, wrinkling her nose at the smell that could almost make her drunk as well. The laughter intensifies and she begins to see red when she feels his fingers brushing through her hair with the hand that’s not on her, her power kicking in and enhancing her reflexes along with her senses.
“Get your fucking hands off of me. ” She hisses through her teeth, and she can feel the lingering tingle of her power but they keep laughing, and in the background her phone is ringing, the call waiting to be answered, when he roughly pulls her closer, and his hand travels to her jaw trying to kiss her.
It’s not like they could register it with all they’d had to drink, but the movement is fast and her hand connects with his cheekbone with such force that his head snaps to the side and he goes back a few steps, staggering and dazed. Angered by the idea of ​​involving her powers, her breathing is labored. “Everyone out.”
It’s all she says, and the laughter stops when the rest hear him curse, the mark of her hand red and prominent on his cheek as they drag him out ignoring his tirade and insults, their gazes travel to each other, suddenly in a hurry to leave.
She hears the jingle of the bell and strides to the door locking it, a frustrated cry leaving her mouth as she grabs a bottle from the shelf and the taste of alcohol makes her shudder, the burn in her throat familiar and she can feel the tickle turning into a sharp pain, her powers begging to be released on someone other than herself and when she looks at her hands there is a persistent tremor.
Humans had never been a threat to her, not when they were so weak to pain and so susceptible to pleasure. Even most mutants eventually gave in, except for those like Wade or Logan where the temporary solution was to keep them paralyzed and even then the disadvantage of their regenerative factor was too much.
She swallows, bringing the bottle to her lips again and feels everything spinning at the thought that she could have lost control,
She is more than halfway through the bottle when her gaze travels to the clock, more than half an hour since it should have been closed and it is not until almost another half hour later that she finally arrives at the apartment after having finished cleaning completely.
(...)
The darkness welcomes her and it is not difficult for her to notice the second heartbeat in the house and its characteristic aroma when her senses are still accelerated despite her attempts to calm down she still remains in a loop, the alcohol does not do much to numb her.
Part of her hopes to get to the bedroom without waking him, trying to avoid the situation this morning, but as she slowly closes the door sideways she realizes, thanks to the moonlight that enters through the curtains, that he is quite awake.
“Damn it, Logan. ” she grunts, feeling her heart skip a beat when she sees his gaze fixed on her. But he shifts his attention to the clock on the wall and then back to her.
He doesn’t say anything because he senses her annoyance in waves, enhanced senses or not, her expression is filled with frustration and he shares it, part of him feeling responsible for not having accompanied her in whatever happened. The smell of alcohol doesn’t go unnoticed either, which adds another layer of complexity because up until now he had never smelled it on her until after the day was over, which makes his suspicion grow.
“I called you.” It’s all he says, his tone cautious as he watches her undo her apron and leave it on the chair. Her guilty look lets him know that she hadn’t even looked at her phone and he runs a hand over his face, pushing back the hair that bothers him. “Doll.”
She sees him sit up out of the corner of her eye, causing her to shudder. The smell of alcohol can be mixed with the aroma of that group of idiots, but the handprint on her forearm is still present.
“I’m fine, I was just late cleaning up.” she answers, and her tone would be enough to stop the conversation, but Logan has never doubted his senses and the way he approaches makes her curse under her breath when his hand closes on her wrist, extending the arm that was marked.
There is a low growl that makes even her recoil, and for a second he says nothing, raising his darkened and questioning gaze.
“Leave it be-” she begins, looking at him with a mixture of exasperation and tiredness.
“Fuck it. What the hell happened?” He asks, with clenched teeth and she twists her wrist, managing to get away, making him frown.
“There was this group of drunks, but I'm fine-” His gaze flickers between her and the room, lost in his annoyance and this time it's her who grabs his chin. “Logan, I'm fine. I'm just angry that the situation could have gotten out of hand.”
As if it were possible his brow furrows even more and she can see the gears in his head turning, studying the workings of her powers. His fists clench and his pupils widen, getting rid of the green in his eyes.
“Did you use your powers?” he asks, and he sees her tense, her lips turning into a thin line.
“No. I just-” she cuts himself off, swallowing. “I could have killed him. If he'd managed to kiss me, I could have killed him.”
Somehow his gaze softens he can feel her anguish and although the fact of what had happened echoes in his mind, his hand travels to her face and rests on her cheek. “But you didn't. ”
He whispers and he can hear the beginnings of a broken laugh dying down, turning into a grimace, disgust and self-loathing written all over her face.
“I never learned to control them. Shit, even using them on myself was kind of accidental...” She speaks, almost tempted to pour herself more alcohol. Still standing she watches him lean against the side of the couch.
“Ever since they activated I could never really stop them. ” She gulps, avoiding eye contact. “Physical contact was enough to harm someone.”
The information makes Logan tilt his head, his eyes narrowing in interest and she gives him a weak smile when she can see him opening his mouth to speak.
“I thought you said you needed to share fluids.”
She answers with a light hum, getting up to grab a bottle of alcohol that she finishes emptying before throwing it in the trash. “It's true in a way, the state in which my powers were developed only allowed me to stimulate the nervous system of others, but it was not something I could control, any stimulus I could inflict was like being electrocuted at high intensity. It didn't matter if it was pain or not, the nervous system couldn't handle it and went into shock, or cardiac arrest.”
She explains, and takes another sip, licking her lips with a look of concern. “I can't even control the intensity now. But the only solution I found was to suppress them. So many times that it finally affected me, and I don’t know if it was adaptation or just something meant to happen, but something changed in my nervous system. My senses, my reflexes improved, and I could even decide whether to feel pain or not. But after that, my powers only worked through the fluids. It’s the only way I found a balance.”
His gaze seems to consider the situation, and there is a hint of caution in her gaze when she sees him approach. Even when he grabs her chin and runs his thumb along her lower lip. “Kiss me.”
She doesn’t remember ever hearing him speak so softly, despite the request, she takes a step back abruptly shaking her head and looking at him with wide eyes. But she finds the edge of the counter colliding with her back. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”
Her voice comes out sharper than it should and she crosses her arms over her chest defensively, her heart hammering hard at the thought.
“The risk of your powers is no different than the one you run by being around me.” He replies, causing her to roll her eyes.
“Why? Why do you have regenerative factor? What exactly are you trying to prove?
God, you don't control them in your sleep, I can never control them. The only solution I found is to switch between stimuli and even then...”
“And you don't have one. I could have killed you any of those nights.” He growls, reaching out again and grabbing her arm, his other hand traveling to the back of her neck. “Do you trust me?”
“I trust you. But I don't trust myself the same way you do. ”
Before she finishes, his lips are on hers, and her protests are muffled, her hands traveling to his chest as they both feel the same tickle, but her hands clench into fists and her breathing pauses as his grip loosens, but still holds.
“You’re not using them.” He murmurs as she pulls away.
“That doesn’t mean I can control them. It’s not a risk to you or Wade, but the rest...”
“No one will ever get that close.” he murmurs, trying to reassure her and she doesn’t need any more words to know that he’s going to become a permanent customer. “Let’s go to sleep.”
Her doubt turns to confusion as she looks up, and her brow furrows into caution.
“I thought you said it was dangerous.”
He hums, wrapping an arm around her waist before kissing her again, pulling her closer to him as his other hand trails up her abdomen. “I changed my mind.”
Their kisses continue all the way to the bedroom, and he doesn’t bother turning on the light as he watches her slump back onto the mattress and wastes no time in grabbing her thighs. With the reminder that it’s her uniform, he reluctantly lets her strip before cornering her figure back against the mattress.
“Logan.” She pants, his caresses enough to dampen her underwear as his hands roam her body. He's being so mindful.
And unlike all the other times, there’s no rush or need, he simply takes the time to admire her even though a smile tugs at his lips when he notices the scent between her legs. “Don’t tease me…”
She whispers, but her voice loses strength as his hand cups her intimacy and he hovers over her with his nose running down her neck as he leaves a trail of kisses all the way to her ear. “We’re just getting started.”
A soft huff escapes her lips, and she wraps her arms around his neck. “I want you.”
She protests and watches as his eyes darken, it takes an effort to contain himself and remind himself that he’s decided to make her feel good first, but the way she looks at him makes his pants tighten. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Part of him has grown accustomed to her teasing and her gripping, the way they both fight for control until she’s decided it’s enough and she lets himself go. But it’s not like he can complain about the way now all that comes out of her mouth are pleas and moans.
Her legs wrap around his waist as if at any moment he might slip away while her hands are quick to undo his shirt and send it flying across the room before grabbing his face and kissing him again.
As his touch intensifies it is she who takes control of the kiss and her moans are muffled when she feels him pull her underwear aside and hears the metallic sound of the buckle, a wave of adrenaline runs through her and she lightly bites his lower lip before pulling away.
Her gaze drops, and she barely has time to see his erection still in his underwear when his lips are on her throat, by inertia raising her head back she can feel his cock resting against her inner thigh before the tip brushes her entrance, soaking in her excitement first as he moves up and down opening her lips, the touch against her clitoris causing a shiver to run through her.
“Put your hands on your head.” He murmurs, and doesn’t hide his smile as she complies, almost imagining her response if the situation were different. Despite her arousal and the way she grips him, he takes care to push in slowly in the absence of foreplay, and a moan escapes her mouth as she pulls him roughly into her, the tease on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t quite get to say out loud.
“Logan.” She moans, relief written all over her as he shoves herself all the way in. And she doesn’t need to say anything else for him to start moving, one of his hands closing on her wrists and his thrusts soon gaining depth despite the slowness. The moans in his ear send a shiver through him and his grip tightens as he tries to hold back, every fiber of his being resisting to fuck her until she’s a senseless mess beneath him.
She’s not far off when his mouth catches her nipple and he hears her gasp, his free hand catching her other breast before pinching it, feeling it harden between his fingers, his hand squeezing it as his tongue wraps around the other.
“Please.” She moans, and the desperation in her voice makes him close his eyes, he can feel her walls clench around him and his hand moves down to her clit, his thumb making circular motions as he feels her release and bend her legs on either side of his hip. “F-Fuck, please let me come.”
There’s no part of him that wouldn’t let her do it, but he decides to shut up and his thrusts become rougher when he feels her tremble around him and he can feel his own release approaching. “Do you want it that bad?”
“Yes! ” she can feel the familiar tug in her abdomen, building up but not enough and he would continue to tease her if it weren't for how his own member was beginning to throb, not wanting to cum without feeling her.
Tightening around him, two fingers press against her clit in upward strokes as he enters her until his balls are pressed against her hip. “Come on, kid, cum for me.”
Her body inevitably tenses and he presses his lips together, swallowing his moan as her walls trap him, and he’s quick to follow, filling her while still feeling the spasms of her orgasm.
Her breathing is still labored as she feels him brush her hair away from her face, pulling out of her. “Better now?”
He whispers, and with the way he looks at her, she’s not sure whether to make the worst sexual comment that will put Wade to shame, or kiss him until he sees if he might die of asphyxiation.
“It would be better if you stayed to sleep next to me.” Is what she actually says, watching him get off of her and place himself, indeed, next to her.
//////////
Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink
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aylacavebear · 2 months
Text
Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 9
When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?
Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You
Word Count: 2367
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Dean being a sweetheart, Dealing with emotional stuff, Nightmare.
A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.
----------------------------------------- Chapter 9
“I need to call Jodi,” Dean said through a clenched jaw, pulling out his burner phone. “Jodi, he’s here.”
That was all Dean said before he hung up the phone, watching the monitors. All the two of you could do was pray that Jodi would make it there before they took off. You knew the drive was at least thirty minutes, fifteen speeding. Dean set a hand on your shoulder, attempting to comfort you. Instinctively, your hand went up to rest over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
“They can’t get in here. You’re still safe,” he told you as calmly as he could manage.
Somehow, though, you could tell he was angry, that he wanted to go out there and beat those men into a bloody pulp or worse. “We’re safe,” you correctly him gently. 
The two of you stared at the monitors as the minutes ticked by. Soon, the outside ones flashed red borders, and the two of you saw the familiar lights of the police cars, all five of them. The three men in the house, who were all in different rooms, looked out the windows at the flashing lights.
They attempted to get to exits without being caught, but luck was not on their side tonight. You smiled, watching all three men being hauled off in handcuffs, praying they wouldn’t just get bail and attempt to find you again.
You quickly made copies of the recordings and emailed them to Jodi so she had them. You’d done it before with others. There was some risk involved, but she needed these to keep these men from getting out of jail and for later persecution. She could also get them to whoever else would need them. 
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to leave this place?” you asked quietly, leaning back in the chair.
“One day, yeah. Sammy’ll use this and push the courts,” Dean replied, then sighed.
“I can’t believe it’s already six,” you mumbled, glancing at the clock on the monitor.
“What do you say I make us something to eat? I know you skipped lunch,” he chuckled, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Sounds nice,” you replied, smiling up at him.
You watched him go, realizing that it didn’t feel awkward around him, even after earlier. With everything that had happened, you figured you’d feel emotional, in some form or another. But instead, you felt a sense of calm.
After glancing at the monitors again, you headed out to the kitchen, choosing to sit at the table and watch him cook. It had been a long and emotional day for you. All you wanted at the moment was to enjoy what felt like a peaceful moment with Dean. 
There was something about watching him cook that calmed you. You loved cooking, even baking, and watching him enjoy those things always made you smile. This, though, gave you a different feeling entirely. It wasn’t one of those schoolgirl giddy sort of feelings. Or that feeling of wanting him to do something for you.
No, this was different. He had a happiness to him when he was cooking, and you could not only feel it from him but see it in the way he moved. Something about seeing and feeling him happy comforted you, bringing you a calm you weren’t used to, deep down.
You typically got lost in watching him, never paying attention to the time or if he caught you. He’d usually just smirk playfully and go back to cooking, which made you smile. Tonight was no different. Your mark burned again, but it was easy to ignore with the sight before you.
He was busy making spaghetti with red sauce tonight, even though the sauce was canned. Dean loved the array of spices that had been stocked and used his favorites, depending on the dish he concocted. “Why do you like watching me cook?” he asked, his back to you as he sprinkled a little more of another seasoning into the sauce.
A light blush crept into your cheeks, “It’s calming,” you replied, smiling a little.
“I’m just cooking,” he chuckled, now mixing the sauce.
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dean turned to look at you briefly, over his shoulder, and you swore he was blushing, “No. I was just curious.”
You giggled when he returned his focus to dinner, “You’re adorable,” you told him, and you were a little surprised at how easy it was to tell him that. You also noticed that the tips of his ears and down part of his neck deepened in color. “Did I make you blush?” you asked, a little surprised.
“Nope,” he replied quickly, refusing to look at you.
He went back to cooking, and you went back to enjoying watching him, sighing contentedly. Your thoughts didn’t wander or turn into a full-blown storm in your head. It felt quiet in your mind and your soul. It had happened before, but something about tonight was different. Perhaps it had been how he was there for you, or was it the kiss, or were you just letting hope cloud your better judgment? You truly weren’t sure, but right now, you didn’t want to question it either.
Dinner, of course, was amazing. The man could have been a chef, at least in your eyes. Watching him blush when you complimented his talents made him blush again. You took care of the dishes and leftovers before settling on the couch to watch a movie with him. 
“What’d you pick?” you asked curiously, getting comfortable on the far side of the couch against the armrest.
He looked over at you from the TV as he slid the VHS into the player, “One you like,” he chuckled before sitting down in “his” spot. “What, no cuddles tonight?” he pouted, more playful than anything else.
Chuckling at his adorableness again, you moved over and nestled yourself against his side and chest as he wrapped his arm over and around your shoulder. You loved how he was firm and soft at the same time. The moment the music began playing through the TV, your entire face lit up like a happy child.
He had chosen one of your favorite movies, Disney’s Robin Hood. It was the little things he’d paid attention to that had captivated and surprised you, like this. 
“Thank you,” you told him softly, sighing contently.
If it was like this all the time, I could be happy never leaving this place.
Once the movie was over, you bid Dean good night like usual, giving him a nice hug, then headed to your room, leaving the door open. That was more so he could watch the cameras when he felt the need to. When you went to set your phone down on your nightstand, you noticed the date: your birthday was just under a month away.
The thought made you sigh as you clicked off your phone and crawled into bed. There wouldn’t be any celebration this year, not being stuck in this bunker. There’d be no drinks with family. Then there was the fact that you were supposed to marry some scumbag on your birthday. The thought sent a shiver down your spine before you clicked off the light.
You hadn’t heard from Sam, nor had you pushed Dean as to whether or not he had either. Sometimes, you wondered if you were too respectful when it came to that, the whole, not pushing something with someone. Or prying into what they talked about with other people, even if you might be part of the topic. 
The day felt almost surreal as you lay there on your side with your back toward the door. He has to be my soulmate. I’ve never felt like this around anyone and I know not all these emotions are mine. He said he knows I’m his soulmate. Is it okay to hope? Should I try not to think about it till my mark comes in the rest of the way?
There were still too many questions for you to put aside your doubts. Just because he had a name that was yours on his body, didn’t mean it was you. Then there had been the empath thing he talked about. Is being an empath genetic? I wonder if I could risk looking up more information on it. 
At least an hour passed as you thought about everything while also trying not to think about what might happen in less than a month. Slowly, your eyes began to close, and sleep found you soon after. Nightmares found you, too, though, in the deepness of sleep. 
They had found the bunker, broken in, and taken both you and Dean. You weren’t sure who it was or where you were being held, but it almost reminded you of a police interrogation room. A man came in that you didn’t recognize and set a thin folder on the table in front of you. You looked from the man to the folder, then opened it. It was legal paperwork, and you didn’t understand most of it. All you could really do was skim it until you found things you understood. There it was, the stupid part about having to marry that jerk of a man.  When you tried to speak to argue, it was like you couldn’t make words. You even checked your collarbone, but the mark still hadn’t come in, and it didn’t look like anything resembling a name yet. Frustrated, you closed the folder and crossed your arms, shaking your head, but all the mand did was smile. Then you were in a wedding dress in a different room. No one was there but you. Slowly, you walked over to the full-length mirror. Yeah, you looked beautiful, but it was something you’d never pick to wear. You always wanted a simple wedding, and this dress was utterly extravagant.  That same man opened the door to the room, came inside, and took your arm. You fought against him, attempting to get away, but to no avail. In the distance, you could hear music, wedding music, and you fought harder. The man jerked your arm harshly, making you keep up, and you winced at the bruise you knew would form. The cathedral was highly decorated. If this wasn’t a nightmare, you probably would have taken the time to enjoy its beauty, but when you saw Cole standing at the altar, you fought against the man holding onto your arm. You didn’t recognize anyone in the place. No one was there for you, but you almost knew that it had to be because none of your family would have been allowed there. Cole had an evil smirk on his face, and all you wanted to do was get away from him. The man who had your arm held you in place from behind once you were at the altar. That was when Cole leaned close and whispered in your ear. “Remember, say yes, or Dean dies.”
You woke up screaming as your heart pounded in your chest. Dean was in your doorway in seconds, but the nightmare was still fresh in your eyes. You barely noticed when he sat down next to you and pulled you close to him.
“It’s okay. It was just a nightmare, Sweetheart,” he told you softly, trying to calm you.
“We’re not safe,” you whispered as your body began to shake from the nightmare.
You didn’t see the anger flare in Dean’s eyes or the way his jaw clenched due to what you’d said. He ran his hand down your hair a few times, trying to reassure you that it was only a nightmare and you were safe. It was a feeling you couldn’t describe or know where it was coming from, but you no longer felt safe in the bunker. You also knew you couldn’t leave either. 
“Want some coffee?” Dean asked you after you had finally stopped shaking.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, not even sure what time it was.
That had been the down side of being in the bunker, no sunlight coming through a window, so the days and nights merged most times. Dean kissed the top of your head before he headed into the kitchen. Cole’s words from your nightmare kept swirling in your head. The thought of Dean’s life in danger shook you deeply, and you dragged your feet getting out of bed. He was already in the living room and on the couch with two cups of coffee sitting on the coffee table. Dean held his arms open for you when you looked over at him, so you curled into his side as he again held you close.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked softly, gently rubbing your arm.
“Not really,” you mumbled, wishing you could just forget the dream altogether. 
“It might help,” he suggested gently, not wanting to push you too hard.
With a heavy sigh, you sat up and grabbed your coffee, sipping it while debating his request. You did finally give in and told him about your nightmare. He asked you to describe the man, and you watched his expression as you did so. Living with Dean for the time you had, you had picked up on little things he did. At the moment, he had that expression as if he almost recognized the man you had described.
“He’s a real person, isn’t he?” you asked quietly but curiously.
Dean sighed, wishing you weren’t so perceptive, “Yeah. His name is Alastair. He works for the Vaught family as the head of security.” That didn’t help you feel any better, knowing he was real. You set your cup down, feeling your hands shake a little. That unease began creeping through your body again, and Dean pulled you back against him.
“I’m not gonna let them take you. I promise,” he told you quietly.
“You might not have a choice. My birthday is only a few weeks away,” you replied, your voice a little shaky as Cole’s words rang in your ears. You knew you’d do anything to keep him safe, even marry a monster.
----------------------------------------- Chapter 10
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heehoonieluvs · 1 year
Text
I forgot
Tumblr media
Heeseung x reader
Angst, fluff, smut
The way that the members are depicted in this story has nothing to do with how they really are or how I feel they are. It is all solely for the storyline so please bear that in mind 🫶
Summary: Y/N had been waiting her entire career for this moment but her loving bf Heeseung is no where to be seen
F/N = female name
Warnings: MDNI, cursing, oral (f receiving), ass play (f receiving), squirting, daddy kink, use of pet names (please do let me know if I need to add more warnings 🤍)
Masterlist
Y/N POV:
Tonight was the most important day for my career and it was only an hour till I had to arrive at the venue. All of these years that I had spent chasing my dream was finally going pay off. I was so excited yet nervous to show my friends and family what I had worked so hard for but I was especially excited to spend tonight with my amazing boyfriend Heeseung who had been nothing but supportive of my journey throughout our relationship. He had only just come back from tour a few days ago but he had been in and out due to his busy schedules as he had also just released his first ever collab with F/N.
I checked my watch once again. Why isn't he here yet? He hasn't texted or called at all today. Is he okay? I texted him again but got no response. I felt so upset and hurt that he hadn't even bothered to tell me what was happening even though he knew how much I was looking forward to tonight. Maybe he forgot? No he couldn’t have…
Just then, I got a text from my manager saying that my ride was waiting outside for me. I sighed and left, hoping that he was just late and would turn up to the event later.
Time skip
I looked around the venue, searching to see if Heeseung turned up. My manager said that there was no sign of him and he had not been responding to any of her messages. At this point I started to get pissed off. All these years that we had been together, I was there for him for everything. If he needed me there, I was there. No matter how big or how small the event, I was there. The one day I needed him there for me, he didn’t bother to turn up. I fought back the stinging tears that had threatened to fall and put on a smile as the awards started.
When the host announced my name, I felt an overwhelming amount of happiness inside of me. I gave my speech, thanking people that had helped me through everything. Just then the thought of Heeseung came up, reminding me that he had never turned up to witness this moment. I wrapped up my speech and quickly returned to my seat where I could see my manager and colleagues coming up to me. They all congratulated me and returned to their designated places, leaving me with my manager. I could tell that she knew what I was thinking and gave me a sympathetic smile.
"I know you're hurt that Heeseung isn't here, but just remember how strong you are and now you can show everyone that doubted you just how amazing you are."
"Thank you so much. I guess I just feel more disappointed at the fact that he never bothered to tell me what was going on."
"I know sweetie but he may have his reasons. Just live in the moment now and don’t let this tamper your special night"
I smiled at her feeling slightly better as a brushed aside the horrible feeling in my guts.
Time skip
I slammed the door shut and threw off my heels and jacket. Still no sign of Heeseung and it was way past the time that he usually came back. I shuffled my way towards the kitchen and went on my phone.
I scrolled through my social media accounts to kill time till he came back. Just then, I saw a news article from a few minutes ago saying LEE HEESEUNG AND F/N SPOTTED KISSING AT A PARTY. I opened the link, dreading whatever was about to pop up. The photos that came up gave me a shock as I looked at them. There were photos of them holding hands, cuddling, enjoying their time with their team. The last ones shocked me the most of them looking like they were kissing behind a tall plant and another with them on a balcony, supporting a shirtless Heeseung. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read through the blog. All this time I had spent worrying about him ended up being because he was spending time snuggling up with F/N. After F/N and her boyfriend had broken up days before, I had noticed that Heeseung had been going out more. I had never doubted Heeseung and I's relationship but this just made me feel betrayed, especially since he had missed today for it. I didn't want to believe that he had been cheating as I knew that he and F/N weren't the type of people to do such thing, so I shut off my phone and put on a film to gather my thoughts and think of how I’d confront him.
As soon as my eyes started to droop, I heard the familiar jingle of keys coming from the front door. Knowing who was on the other side, I ignored it and carried on watching the tv. When he walked in and spotted me, his entire face lifted, almost making me forget about how upset I was with him. He came over to me with open arms completely oblivious to the current situation.
"Baby! I missed you so much" he said as he came towards me, leaning in for a kiss.
When I saw it coming I moved away from him, leaving him confused as to why I was acting so cold towards him.
"What's the matter baby? Did I do something wrong?". He asked so many questions but I rolled my eyes and turned towards the screen.
"Babe, why are you dressed like that? Are you going out?"
If looks could kill, he was sure that he’d be 6 feet under right now. It took a second for the realisation to kick in before his face filled with guilt.
"Oh my god baby I'm so sorry. I-I completely forgot" he stuttered "I know nothing that I'll do or say can make up for this but I really did not realise. Please let me make it up to you?"
"Are you serious right now Heeseung? I cannot believe you" I shouted.
A flash of hurt came on his face as I said his name. I never called him that unless something was really wrong. He knew that this wasn't gonna be as easy as it usually is. He couldn't think of anything to say as all he wanted was to make his baby feel happy again. To see her beautiful face light up with her precious smile.
"You knew how much this day meant for me. I have always found a way to turn up to your events no matter what to support you yet the one time I wanted you here for me, you didn't even bother. I feel like I'm never important to you and I'm not even in the top 10 of your priorities. I don’t want to sound selfish but not once have I ever asked for anything in return yet you completely forget about my existence." I said with so much hurt in my voice. It made Heeseung’s heart hurt even more hearing it.
"Baby, please. Of course you're important to me. You're the most important thing in my entire life, don't ever say that you are any less. I know that I forgot about today and I'm an absolute idiot for not remembering but don't think that I don't care about you because that is not true at all."
I scoffed "Really? Because it doesn't seem that way since you've spent the day snuggling with F/N"
A look of confusion came upon his face once again "What do you mean?"
"Are you serious? I'm not stupid. I saw those pictures of you two together so don't start acting like you're so oblivious to this whole situation."
"Baby it wasn't what it looked like." He said panicking. He knew that there were photos taken but he didn't want people to take it the wrong way. He loved you more than anything and the photos taken manipulated what people saw to made it look a lot worse than it really was.
"That's what they all say Heeseung" I whispered, lowering my gaze towards my fidgeting fingers.
He sighed “Baby I know how those photos may have looked but I promise you, we only hugged once and it was after F/N’s manager made a toast to congratulate us on our collab.”
In a way I could understand that the whole purpose of the news article was to stir drama but it still didn’t explain everything.
“Okay. So how come this gathering just happened to be on the very night that you knew would happen for months? How come you were shirtless around F/N looking all cozy and shit.” All of the thoughts that had clouded my brain just spilled out my mouth like word vomit.
Heeseung had all the answers to your questions and was willing to explain everything to you. He already knew he was walking on eggshells and needed you to understand that he could never betray you in any way.
“I know I know princess, I should’ve remembered to keep this day free but it was a surprise set up by both F/N and my managers and they took me straight from dance practice. As for me being shirtless, I had just been pushed into the pool and was waiting for my shirt to dry. I know this all sounds like I’m just trying to make excuses but I promise bubba, everything that was shown in that news article was taken completely out of context.”
“And what about the two of you apparently kissing then?”
“Y/N I swear on Ddongsik that pic is absolutely bullshit. We were just having a conversation but it was taken from a weird angle.”
“Excuse me. Don’t bring my baby into this, he has no part in our drama.”
Heeseung chuckled “Ok I’m sorry princess but that’s the only way I can prove to you that everything I’m telling you is the truth.”
“I don’t know Heeseung. It’s just really hard for my to believe after you’ve been out so often and barely sparing me a glance whenever we have a bit of time together”
I could feel his soft fingers lift my chin up to look at him as he pressed his lips on mine. His love radiating, slightly melting the cold facade that I was putting up.
"No baby, you don't understand. Nothing happened between F/N and I, you can ask Jake. I just wanted to make sure that she was okay as she had been going through a rough time with the break up and all. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was abandoning you but we’ve all been on alert since F/N didn’t seem like she had taken her break up well"
"I guess that makes sense and I trust you two. But with all of this and the recent comeback, I just can't help but feel insecure when everywhere I go, it's plastered with you guys."
"I'm so sorry baby. I know that's it's been hard for you but trust me when I say that I only want you. You're the one who I want to marry, have kids with and spend the rest of my life with. I can't see that with anyone else. I've been such a horrible boyfriend and I don't deserve an angel like you."
Seeing how distraught he was, I couldn’t help but reach out and embrace him
"Baby don't say that, you're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for."
"No, I missed the most important day of my princess’s career and made her upset. I cannot blame you for being mad at me. If I saw pictures of you with another guy, I’d be so pissed and I never wanna see my baby looking at another man with those gorgeous eyes. I cannot express in words how apologetic I am but I'm so sorry and I'll say it over and over again if it means that you'll forgive me"
"Baby you don't need to. I forgive you okay." I replied, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. As I moved back, he whined chasing my lips.
"One more please?" He begged
I giggled, making him smile so bright and leaned in for another kiss. Unlike before, Heeseung was more handsy, caressing every fibre of my body that he could reach. He slipped his tongue out to trace my bottom lip, silently asking permission for me to open my mouth. However, I decided to tease him and keep my mouth shut which caused him to whine and pull me closer. He then grabbed me by my waist and pulled me till I straddled his lap. He then reached down and grabbed a handful of my ass, causing me to gasp and give him enough time to sneak his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues caressed each others making us moan. He sucked on my tongue and groaned as I grinded onto his dick.
"Fuck baby." He moaned "You're making me so fucking hard right now. No one can ever make me feel like this. Only you princess."
He moved his mouth to my neck and sucked on my sweet spot, making me moan his name.
"God baby, say my name like that again" He said as he rubbed my clit through the lace of my thong.
I moaned his name over and over again as his started to rub even harder and faster.
"That's right baby. That's my good babygirl"
He lifted my dress over my head, leaving me in my black lace thong. Grabbing my boobs he leaned in and sucked on my nipples as he pulled my thong aside and rubbed my clit, rolling it between his fingers.
"Oh my god baby that feels so good" I moaned into his ear.
Then I could feel his finger entering my pussy and he started to pump it in and out.
"That's right babygirl. You're dripping all over daddy's fingers aren't you? You're such a good girl."
He carried on fingering me as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear. His palm rubbed on my clit every time he pumped his fingers.
"Climb up baby, I want your juicy pussy to drip on my mouth. Let daddy have a taste" he said whilst licking his lips.
I climbed up and hovered over his face, letting him marvel at the sight of my juices dripping out from my pussy.
"That's it princess, give that juicy pussy to daddy. I wanna drink up every bit of you" he growled as he reached up for your ass to pull you down.
Being the tease that I was, I shimmied down slowly, taunting him, causing him to whine and try to stretch his neck to reach it.
"Come on princess, let daddy make you feel good"
As I lowered my pussy onto his mouth, he quickly grabbed my thighs, forcing me to grind my pussy onto his face. The vibrations of his moans went to my pussy causing me to grind down harder onto his tongue and let it fuck me deeper. He ate my pussy like a starved man shaking his head to get deeper. The pleasure was too much and I tried to get up a bit to let him breathe but he growled like a wild animal and pulled me back down to his greedy mouth.
“Don’t even think about moving away from me beautiful.”
He then started to move to my clit to suck and lick over it and move back to bury his tongue in my pussy. He repeated the process until I felt myself getting closer.
"Oh daddy I'm gonna cum. Please let me come."
"Yes that's it baby. Come in daddy's mouth" he growled. He brought his fingers up and started fingering me. He curled his fingers and started hitting my g spot. I moaned so loud, addicted to the pleasure that he was giving me. "Come on princess, you know what daddy wants you to do. Squirt your delicious juices everywhere. Soak daddy's face, I wanna drink you up."
He carried on fingering my g spot as his sucked hard on my clit. Then I felt an overwhelming feeling of pleasure as I squirted all over his face. He moaned as he sucked on my pussy, lapping up my juices. I carried on grinding on his face to ride out my orgasm as he greedily carried on eating me out.
"More baby. I wanna take all of it. Give it to me."
I whined as I felt my pussy getting sensitive. "But daddy, let me make you feel good. I wanna suck your dick."
"No baby" he responded "tonight is about you. I want you to come all over my face till you can't take it anymore and you're begging for me to stop."
"Please daddy? Just a little taste?" I asked in my cutest voice with the most adorable pout that I could muster.
But as much as Heeseung wanted to fuck your cute little mouth, he wanted to taste you all night and not stop. He was so addicted to you and needed to have your taste on his mouth.
"Daddy said no princess. Another time. Now let me eat your pussy again". And with that he pulled me down so my shoulders were on his lap and my legs were over his shoulders.
His face hovered over my pussy and he looked greedily like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey. He observed the way my pussy glistened and how it clenched tightly from the intensity of the previous orgasm. He also observed how my asshole looked so inviting, tempting him to have a taste. He they dived in with his tongue and once again started tongue fucking my pussy. The new position caused so much more pleasure, making my eyes roll back. As he shook his head and sucked my clit, he looked at me with so much love and lust. We held our gaze as he stopped and moved back. I was about to complain but stopped and gasped when he stuck his tongue out and dipped it into my asshole. As he fucked his tongue in my puckered hole deeper, I could feel it wriggle inside me, making me moan even louder. I could feel him smile as he ate my ass out. If that wasn't enough he started to nod his head as he licked all the way from my ass to my clit over and over again. He did that for a while and went back to tongue fucking my ass. He could see my pussy clenching as I tried to hold back my orgasm but he wasn't having it. So he brought his hand up and started to rub my clit fast as his other kept me balance and close to his talented mouth. I carried on screaming, not caring if others could hear. Heeseung was so turned on and was desperate to taste you again.
"Come on baby. That's it. Squirt for daddy again. Yes. Yes. YES!" He screamed as you showered his face. At once he drank up your juice, not letting any go to waste. He held you close as he buried his face, not wanting you to get away from him. "God princess, you're so fucking sexy, squirting on daddy's face. Are you okay?"
My heart melted at his concern wondering how he could be so perfect "Yes daddy"
He let me down so I could sit on his lap as he held me like a baby, his baby. As he stroked my back, he littered my face with tiny pecks, causing me to giggle. I buried my face into his neck whilst he hummed into my ear.
"I really am sorry baby. If I have to I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you" he whispered in my ear.
I looked up to him and kissed his pouting lips "No need to baby, it's over and done with now. I love you"
"I love you too baby"
"So can I suck your dick now daddy" I asked in a cute voice, looking at him like a puppy.
He grinned back at me "You're gonna be the death of me you cheeky little monster"
Let's just say that I got a lot more than I bargained for that night... or maybe week 😏😉
Author’s note: Thank you so much for taking the time to read my ff, I hope you enjoyed it. I know this is quite all over the place in terms of who’s speaking but I’m aware that my writing isn’t the greatest 😅 please look forward to more works in the future and don’t be afraid to give me some “inspiration” for future smut and for which members 🤭
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greycaelum · 1 year
Note
Hi! Could you maybe make something protective Satoru-like? Maybe the reader is bothered by some drunken while coming back home?
Overall just angsty-fluff with comfort. Your style of writing is really to my liking and I've been thinking of taking a request for a while. I hope its not too much ❤️
Kaleidoscope Series—Love Me Now, Love Me Never Chapters: { Tipsy }
—Gojo Satoru X Sorcerer Reader
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𑁍 Synopsis:
"You sure you don't need me to drive and pick you up later? It's a den full of wolves." Satoru crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe as he watch you wear the Jimmy Choo black pumps fitting your Friday night fashion for a girl's night out. "Satoru, baby. You don't know how to drive." You looked at him and sighed. "Y'know I don't need to drive, I can just whisk you away in a second back to bed!" He gasps dramatically and argued.
𑁍 Genre: mild angst to comfort, sfw (mild suggestive content)
𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.3k)—/ alcohol, suggestive violence (not towards reader), the reader being bothered in the club—/
𑁍 A/N: Hi sweetheart, I hope you like this one. Drunk trope isn't my forte but it was fun writing this, better late than never —Grey,
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Having a Gojo Satoru as a boyfriend means there's often a 6'3 giant lurking around you. Or if he's unavailable, undoubtedly one of his subordinates is tailing you in the shadows. It's a compromise you both reached knowing your lover has many enemies and it's for your protection too. Satoru won't take it kindly if ever something to you. He will lose it.
"You sure you don't need me to drive and pick you up later? It's a den full of wolves." Satoru crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe as he watch you wear the Jimmy Choo black pumps fitting your Friday night fashion for a girl's night out.
"Satoru, baby. You don't know how to drive." You looked at him and sighed.
"Y'know I don't need to drive, I can just whisk you away in a second back to bed!" He gasps dramatically and argued.
You giggled and threw your arms around Satoru's neck. Satoru won't have to admit it, but you have him wrapped around your finger.
"Call me when you wanna come home, 'kay?"
"Okayyy~" 
That was the plan... Until Utahime started wailing about still having no prospects for marriage even at her age. Shoko is too busy having a drinking contest with herself and you... well, Satoru's lightweight tendencies must be rubbing on you. Just one glass of margarita and you can tell that you are already tipsy, two more shots and you knew that was enough for tonight.
"Mei-san can I leave the two of them to you? I'll go home, I'm feeling a little lightheaded."
"I don't mind. Should I call Gojo for you?"
"No need, I'll call him. See you around Mei-san."
You made your way through the bar. It's so loud with the full-blast speaker and people dancing on the stage, some are getting a little more frisky in the open.
Did Satoru also go through this kind as a teen? You know he doesn't drink but did he ever go to a bar too? Did he also make out with some random girls and do the deed? Did he also—?
The dark thoughts are suddenly attacking you from all directions.
"Hey Miss, you look so lonely, care to spend some time with me?" A tall guy approached you, just from his scent you could tell he was wasted.
"No, I'm on my way home. Don't bother me." You stumbled a little but managed to grab onto the nearest wall to support yourself. Damn, maybe you should've stayed home instead.
"Awee c'mon, going home?" hiccup "Your cat at home got no tuna or somethin'?"
Fuck, the liquor in your veins is starting to get dizzying.
"Her cat is actually a territorial one. Now, fuck off from my woman."
The familiar cool spicy scent overpowered the bitter taste of liquor surrounding you, your body collided with a hard chest and a hand over your shoulder guided you close to his side.
"Hey, hold on to me alright pretty girl? 'M gonna get us home in a second."
True to his words, you feel the ground melting from your feet and in a second landed back on the floor of your home. There's a faint aroma of the chicken noodles you love.
"Satoru..." A small whine like a child escaped your sealed lips. You don't have the energy to wash up or even take off your clothes. You just brought up your arms asking for a carry.
"Y'know, you're too spoiled." Satoru sighed and hugged you while your feet clumsily took off your black pumps and left them there.
Satoru watch his girl act like a baby, whiny and more needy than usual as he carried her to the sofa and brought the warm mug of noodle soup to her hands.
"I told you to call me. What if I didn't come?"
Satoru helps you take off your makeup and at the back, he's running the water in the tub for you. He wants to scold you but the sight of your hazy eyes and flush cheeks will only evoke something else other than anger in him.
"Liar..." You slurred. "You always come even if I don't call..."
It's the perks of having a sober man who is too protective to let you go in a den of wolves as he would often phrase it, and yet still supportive enough to let you go on a girl's night out.
You don't wanna get used to him being a superman in your life but he does show up at the split second before the pinch. And you can't help but be complacent at the thought Satoru will always be there to catch you. Selfish... You silently berated yourself and finished the second mug of soup.
You stared at Satoru who is now drying your hair after a quick bath you had. The thoughts from earlier came running back to you.
Satoru set down the blower and that's when you turn around and crawled between his legs, your noses hit as you took his glasses down and stare into his cerulean orbs.
"Babe... wanna get frisky with me?"
"B-Baby?" Satoru uncharacteristically stuttered at the sudden aggressiveness, but he easily recovered and look down at your plump lips that seems to invite him to take a bite.
"Uhmp!" You gasped and felt yourself being rolled into a burrito roll towards your side of the bed and Satoru patting your head before he drop a kiss on your forehead.
"Ask that question again when your sober, you drunkard." Satoru chuckled at your pout and frown.
"'m not a drunkard! Satoru you coward!" But no matter how you spite him Satoru merely shrugs and gently pats you to sleep.
He watches you murmur empty threats with that feisty mouth towards him while he hums and lets you tire yourself out with the liquor in your veins still making your thoughts fuzzy. He thinks you're really cute when you're drunk, and if he was a lesser man he doubts he'll have the strength not to rail you all night.
But Satoru doesn't like the thought of doing it when you're barely sober to give him decent permission. So he painfully stuffs a pillow between the two of you while you're rolled in the blanket as he shushes you to sleep.
The next day, you woke up almost rolling down the bed to free yourself from the blanket. Satoru was already downstairs. He looks at you with a knowing smirk as you approach him for a morning hug and kiss.
"Hey, ask me the question again, Baby." Satoru hugged you as if he could press you any closer to him when even a thread can't pass between the two of you.
You could feel the fast beating of his heart against your chest.
"... What question 'Toru?" You pat his back and look at him. Did you ask something weird last night?
"..." Satoru stopped swaying you and frowns before running his hand over his face.
"Eh? Did I do something while I'm drunk?" What's with his reaction? You tried going back to your memory but you can't remember anything more than him giving you chicken noodle soup.
"This is why I don't drink." Satoru huffs and pouts at you. You're hopeless when you're drunk. Satoru looks at your (his) clothes. His shirt looks oversized in your frame running down to your mid-thighs while your hair falls freely to your back, your legs are in his full view, plump and full to his touch while you wiggle your bare toes in the warm insulated flooring.
"Hey Baby... wanna get frisky with me?" He rasped, tipsy with you.
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—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld
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bookish-whore · 2 years
Text
Alone with you
Azriel x Reader
Words: 5.6k
Warnings: Modern AU, Slightly College AU?, Fuckboy!Az, Possessive!Az, (but also some softboy! Az), fluff, only a little angst this time, pet names, SMUT
A/N: This one has been on my mind for a while and I'm so glad I finally finished it. dedicated to the lovely @azsazz @kennedy-brooke and @brekkershadowsinger
My Masterlist -> Here
Join my Taglist -> Here
--------------------------------------------------
“Please come out with us tonight” Feyre asked, looking to Nesta for backup.
“I have a lot of studying to do Fey. You know that organic chemistry is absolutely kicking my ass” I replied.
“I think you can manage a few hours” Nesta said “I mean if you’re doing that badly a few hours aren’t going to save your ass”
I rolled my eyes at her. she had a point.
“Fine, are the guys coming?” I asked, Feyre nodded enthusiastically.
“As far as I know it’ll be you, me, Nesta, Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel” Feyre said
Azriel. He was Cassian and Rhysands’ brother. I hadn’t spent much time with him, mostly because when we were in the same room together things tended to get heated. I rolled my eyes at the mere mention of his name.
“Be nice” Feyre said to Nesta and I “I know Azriel is kind of rough around the edges…but he’s family.”
Nesta and I exchanged side glances trying to hide in our laughter at her attempt to protect him.
“No promises” I said “Besides you both have Rhys and Cass, I’ll be the one stuck babysitting him all night when you sneak off to do dirty things with your boyfriends” we all laughed at the insinuation.
“I promise you won’t have to be alone with him” Feyre said “especially after last time”
“Hey if he wasn’t such a douchebag, then I wouldn’t have had to punch him in the face” I said calmly.
“Y/n, you gave him a black eye.” Feyre countered.
“He deserved it”
“Well, I for one make no promises” Nesta said with a smirk “Cassian loves to fuck in public”
The remainder of the walk to our shared apartment passed with conversations about outfits and aesthetics. Somehow, I had even agreed to let them decide what I would be wearing to this club opening. I would probably regret that decision later.
We all took quick showers, crowding the small bathroom in our apartment. Nesta was drying her hair in the living room and Feyre was doing her skincare routine at the bathroom vanity while I shaved my legs in the shower.
When I was finished, I toweled off and made my way to my bedroom to get ready. I did my makeup, just my usual routine and made my way to the living room so Nesta could do my hair. Feyre was ready first and put the finishing touches on my hair so Nesta could get dressed.
Feyre had chosen a black mini dress that clung to her curves nicely, it fell to her mid-thigh and had lace detailing that accentuated her breasts. She had chosen a pair of silver stilettos to accompany the dress and wore her hair half up in a messy bun with some strands falling to frame her face. Nesta on the other hand wore a black mini skirt with a black lace bralette and a long-sleeved mesh top showing of the tattoos across her ribs and arms, she paired her ensemble with black high heeled boots.
They looked incredible, I was nervous to find out what they had selected for me but as it turns out they know me really well. They had selected a nice fitting pair of black dress pants that clung to my body in all the right places and had paired it with a simple pair of black heels and a black lace bodysuit that had a nude layer under the lace to give the illusion that I was showing more skin than I was.
We met in the kitchen to wait for the Uber Rhysand had ordered for us and took a shot to prepare us for the evening ahead.
-----
The club was interesting. It was called Velaris which to me seemed like a silly name, but it was actually a really stunning place. The ceiling was painted black with stars adorning the entirety of the space which looked like a galaxy when you gazed up. The theme seemed to be dark academia as there were Victorian era couches and chairs in the designated seating areas and ornate gallery walls with oil paintings and gold frames. It was decadent and slightly whimsical and I loved it.
I heard Cassian’s deep baritone voice as he called us over to the table they had secured. He immediately pulled Nesta in for a kiss and she sat on his lap wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck, Feyre took the seat beside Rhysand and he brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss. Rhys was always the gentlemen. Which left the last seat for me and of course it happened to be right next to Azriel. I flashed a smile to him as I took my seat. I had decided that I wouldn’t let him get to me, I would block his existence out and enjoy the night with my girls.
The night was going well. I was on my fourth vodka cranberry, taking a break from dancing with the girls. When it took a turn for the worst.
Nesta and Feyre had gone back to the table, and I had just finished talking to Lucien, one of the guys in my organic chemistry study group about the test we had this week. I was turning to head back to my group when I was stopped by some drunk guy.
“You wanna dance?” he practically yelled over the thumping of the music.
I shook my head, but he came closer leaning down so that he was practically talking in my ear
“Come on, just one dance” he pleaded.
“I’m good” I yelled back at him over the music “no thanks.”
“Come on sweetheart” the man said pressing himself closer to me, wrapping his arm around my side to keep me there.
I tried to move out of his grip “Seriously, I don’t want to” I said firmly pressing my hands against his chest to push him away.
“Oooohhh she’s a feisty one” he said holding my tighter. At this point I started to panic but then he appeared.
Azriel.
“She said no asshole” he said, his voice calm but serious. “I suggest you take your hands off her.”
“Or what” the man challenged.
“Or I’ll have to break them” Azriel said bringing his hands up to crack his knuckles in warning.
“This ass might just be worth it” the man said bringing his hand to graze my backside, I tried again to squirm away from his touch.
Azriel was quick, faster than lightning as he descended on the male and before I could register what was happening I heard it. The telltale -crack- as Azriel bent the mans hands in an unnatural position.
He screamed in pain, and I took the opportunity to get even with the man. I didn’t need Azriel’s help but I appreciated it. I felt the give of bone under my hand as I used my palm to break his nose. He screamed as blood gushed from his nostrils and tried to bring his broken hands to stop the bleeding.
I was vaguely aware of the onlookers but paid them no mind as I fled to the bathroom to wash his blood off my hands. What was that?
I couldn’t help but disassociate as I watched the red water circle down the drain. I was only vaguely aware of the door opening and the sound of the lock engaging.
I looked into the mirror, locking eyes with Azriel who made his way over to the sink. He wordlessly pumped the soap into his hands rubbing it over mine as he got into all the crevices, removing any trace of the blood that remained. He delicately rinsed them and grabbed a towel patting my hands dry all in tense silence.
“T-Thank you” I managed to whisper as he quickly washed and dried his own hands.
“Come on” he said gripping my hands in his “We’re leaving”
“With you?” I questioned “Absolutely not.”
“Will you stop pretending you hate me for five minutes?” he said, “You’re shaking like a leaf and this place doesn’t serve food so I’m taking you to get something to eat before you pass out.”
My stomach grumbled at the mention of food. Traitor.
“Fine but let me tell the others where I’m going” I replied.
“I’ll meet you out front” he said making his exit from the bathroom.
What the fuck are you doing. I asked myself in the mirror before taking a deep breath and making my way back to the table.
Only Rhysand and Feyre were there, his hand gripping her thigh possessively as he whispered something in her ear.
“Hey guys” I said as I approached “Where’s Nes?”
“Oh, she and Cassian left about 45 minutes ago, the sexual tension was too much” Feyre said
“Ughhh, they are insatiable” I said grabbing the remainder of my drink and chugging it
“Whoa. What’s gotten into you?” Feyre asked leaning forward as Rhys observed silently.
“I just came to let you know that I’m heading out…with Azriel.”
“You’re what?!” she exclaimed as she stood walking around the table.
“I’ll explain everything later, it’s a riveting story” I said “but he’s waiting for me outside and before you ask, I am sharing my location with you and Nes in the event that he kidnaps and murders me.”
“If I don’t hear from you in over 12 hours, I will contact the authorities” Feyre said with a smile “By the way, I’m going to Rhys’ tonight and Nes will probably stay at Cassian’s so the apartment is yours if you end up back there” she said with a wink.
“I’m not going to sleep with him, he’s my arch nemesis if you’ll recall” I said “its been…a night and we’re just getting food.”
“I know how you love a good enemies to lovers plot y/n” Feyre said “this is like your real life fantasy”
“Ha. ha. very funny Fey” said as I hugged her and turned to leave.
“Use protection!” she practically screamed as I walked away. I shook my head smiling at the implication.
As the brisk night air hit my skin, I scanned my surroundings for him. I forgot how to breathe as I saw him, holding out a black helmet as he leaned against a motorcycle.
I was in deep shit.
“Hop on princess” Azriel said placing the helmet on my head and snapping it into place under my chin. He swung his leg over the bike scooting forward as he turned the key in the ignition.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I climbed on behind him.
“It’s a surprise” he said as his hand grabbed my thigh, pulling me so that I was firmly pressed against him. I wrapped my hands around his middle, tucking my head into his back.
“Hold on tight” he said, and then we were off.
-----
He took me to a small diner, which was not what I expected from him. I mean this place looked like it was straight out of the 1950’s. It was called Rita’s and the décor was retro, red booths that looked like they were wrapped in cellophane with white top tables that had aluminum wrapping along the sides. The walls had a funky striped wallpaper with vintage posters. It was a cute place.
He seemed to frequent the place as the staff immediately welcomed him in by name and asked him if he wanted his usual table. He nodded, grabbing two menus and walked us to a booth in the corner. I sat on one side, and he took the other handing me a menu. I looked it over deciding on breakfast, I loved it at all times of the day but especially when I was slightly drunk. There was nothing better to prevent a hangover than waffles.
“Know what you want princess?” he asked.
“Mmhm” I nodded closing the laminated menu and setting it in front of me.
He lifted his hand, gesturing the waitress to come over to our table.
“Hey Alice” he greeted. “Slow night?”
“It’s Friday night” she replied “it’ll pick up around 3 when the bars all close”
“Typical” Az said, and he was smiling. This was a side I definitely hadn’t seen of him before.
“What can I get y’all?” Alice asked, holding a pen in one hand and a pad of paper in the other.
“I’ll have my usual” Az said “and she can have whatever she wants.”
I looked to Alice, her pen at the ready “I’ll have the Belgian waffle combo, eggs over-easy, and bacon please.”
“Alrighty, and anything to drink?” Alice asked
“Coffee for me” Az said and looked to me expectantly.  
“Uh- I’ll have the same” I said.
“Okay, I’ll be right back with those coffee’s and the food will be out soon” Alice flashed us a smile and was off.
“So. You clearly come here a lot”
“It’s quiet, and the people here…they don’t know me so I can just be who I want and not the person everyone expects me to be.”
I nodded along with what he was saying, it was so honest, I didn’t expect him to have a decent side to him, but it appears I stood corrected because he was much more complex than I gave him credit for.
Apparently his usual was a bacon cheeseburger with extra pickles and a side of fries and he was a perfect gentlemen and pretended not to notice when I snuck a few fries for myself.
The conversation between us was easy- it was carefree. We talked about everything; school, our futures, our ambitions and before I knew it the clock read 3am. As I looked around the diner I realized more of the booths were filled with couples and groups all looking for a cure to their night adventures. Alice came over to top off our coffee and Azriel took the opportunity to ask for the bill.
As Alice walked away to retrieve it, I reached into my bag looking for my wallet.
“Don’t even think about it” he warned his voice serious and demanding
“Think about what?” I asked innocently.
“Paying” he said simply
“Az, it’s no big deal I don’t mind paying my half” I argues.
“it’s a big deal to me” he said “I brought you here so it’s my treat”
“Fine” I agreed rolling my eyes dramatically.
Azriel quickly paid the bill and as we stood to leave Alice walked past wishing us a goodnight, but without warning she quickly turned around pointing her finger at Azriel like a stern parent.
“You better bring her back Azriel” Alice said sweetly “You two make the cutest couple.”
I couldn’t help but blush at the thought. Azriel and I?
As we exited the building, I realized that I didn’t want the night to end. I wanted to see more of him, experience more with him and I was nowhere near ready to part ways.
“So…what now?” I asked as I once again began the task of putting on the bike helmet.
“Well.” He said “I can take you home and we can pretend none of this ever happened.”
“Or?” I asked.
“Or. We can go back to mine for another drink.”
I felt giddy at the thought of being alone with him in his apartment and I immediately agreed. I was determined to unravel the mystery that is this man.
-----
His apartment wasn’t at all what I imagined. I thought it would be some ridiculously decorated bachelor pad of sorts, I assumed there would be led lights and flags on the walls and he would have red solo cups and plastic silverware but I have never been more wrong.
It was a stunning space, with a view overlooking the city skyline and he had simple and modern décor mostly a sleek black and grey but there were subtle touches of cobalt throughout the space. He even had art adorning the walls and everything was immaculately clean.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked making his way to the kitchen. I followed behind him seating myself on the island counter.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having” I replied as he pulled a pair of wine glasses from a cabinet.
He made his way to the fridge opening it to grab a bottle of wine. I noticed that he was also incredibly organized. Everything seemed to have a place. I thought as I looked around the kitchen, I refocused on him as I heard the subtle -pop- of the cork as he opened the bottle with ease and poured us both a glass before putting it back in its designated place.
He took a few steps towards me, standing between my legs as he extended the glass to me. He was so close that I could smell the slight notes of cedar and rain from his cologne, it seemed to envelop me.
“Thanks” I said taking the glass from his hands and bringing it to my lips taking a small sip.
“What do you think?” he asked swirling his glass before taking a sip.
“Well, to be honest I’m more of a white wine kind of girl- but this is excellent.”
He smiled “it’s a Valpolicella- I figured you would prefer something sweet”
“A Vallo- what?” I asked
“Valpolicella- it’s Italian” he said taking another sip.
“and you know that because…you have an affinity for wines?”
“No princess, I grew up in Italy.”
“How did I not know that?” I asked him
“It’s not something I particularly like talking about”
“Why not” I pushed as I swirled the liquid languidly in the glass
“My childhood- was not…ideal” he began
“How so?” I asked
“I was adopted… Rhysand’s parents adopted me from the Italian orphanage when I was 13 years old.”
My eyes went wide at the information- but he continued.
“When I was 13, I was working the streets, doing small jobs like delivery services for coins, hustling vacationers, and stealing scraps of food when I could. But one day there were these boys who just wanted to play with me. Their parents were in town on business and they were staying at the Hotel Adriata and invited me over for a playdate.” He laughed at the memory “I was young- obviously- and naïve so I went, and our mother just had this instant connection to me and before I knew it the papers were signed, and I was on a plane crossing the ocean.”
“That must have been traumatic to go through all of that at such a formative age” I said
He nodded, his eyes vacant and far away.
“Do you remember much about Italy?” I asked
“I remember every detail. The cobblestone streets, the salty sea air, the orphanage, the nuns, my birth parents…” He trailed off at the mention of his birth parents, so I decided to change to an easier subject.
“Do you still speak the language?”
He nodded his head
“Prove it”
“How could I possibly prove it?” he reasoned.
“Say something to me.”
“I don’t really-”
“Oh, come on” I begged “pretty please”
“Fine” he huffed as he downed the remainder of his wine in one large gulp.
“sei così dannatamente bella” he said softly “le cose che voglio farti farebbero arrossire gli dei ”
“What does that mean” I asked
He set his empty glass down beside me, resting his arms on either side of my thighs as he came close.
“It means…” he began, tucking a stray hair behind my ear as his thumb grazed my cheek.
“You’re so damn beautiful…the things I want to do to you would make the gods blush”
I forgot how to breathe as his hazel eyes burned into me, his gaze dark and hungry and maybe it was the wine, or the fact that he was so honest and vulnerable about his past, but I couldn’t seem to resist the pull to kiss him.
So, I did.
This was no ordinary kiss; it was full of passion and desire. His hand cupped my jaw angling my head to deepen the kiss as his tongue slipped into my mouth. I let out an involuntary moan at the feeling which only further encouraged him.
He lifted me from the counter with ease, his hands digging into the flesh of my ass as he carried me through the apartment. I wrapped my legs around his waist to hold myself upright as I lost myself in his touch. His mouth exploring me, planting needy open-mouthed kisses to my jaw and neck.
I didn’t even realize we were in his bedroom until he turned to seat himself on the mattress angling me so that I was straddling him as I took control of the kiss, running my fingers through his hair and slowly grinding against him.
I pulled away and slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, trailing my fingers over the muscles that adorned his chest and tracing the tattoos that adorned his shoulders and chest. It was a swirling black ink that almost looked like smoke.
He patted my thigh as a gesture for me to move off him a moment so he could remove his shirt and as he turned around, I let out a gasp at his back. It was a beautiful tan like the rest of him, but it was covered with two large wings. The more I looked at them the more they looked like bat wings the black ink shaded to look like the thin membrane that made up a majority of the structure and the little bones that jutted out along the tops for structure and stability. I had never seen anything so large and so detailed. I stood and approached him from behind slowly tracing my fingers along the outline of the tattoo taking in the intricacy of it.
“Like what you see princess” he teased his low voice gripping my hand and holding it against his chest as I circled back to stand in front of him.
I nodded, not trusting my voice to answer.
He grasped my wrist in his hand, pulling my flush against the front of his body “I’m going to make this very clear y/n. All it takes is one word, just one word princess. You tell me to stop, and I will-”
“And if I don’t want you to stop?” I asked in almost a whisper.
“Then you belong to me and tonight every inch of you will be mine” he said skimming his fingers over my thighs and up my body
“Then make me yours”
He wasted no time pulling my body into his, our mouths meeting in another desperate kiss a clash of teeth and tongues as he took control of my body spinning me until my back hit the mattress.
He climbed on top of me, using his knee to spread my legs as he settled himself between them deepening the kiss and running his hands along the length of my body. It was like I could feel him everywhere. He lowered himself and began at my feet, removing my heels as he ran his hands up my legs digging gently into the flesh on my thighs before his hands settled on my belt, slowly unbuckling it and then he began working on my pants, unclasping them with ease. His fingers hooked at the waistband, and I lifted my hips a little to aid him in removing them.
He discarded them somewhere behind him, I didn’t really notice as he unbuttoned the bodysuit from between my legs, I sat and pulled the garment over my head, tossing it behind him to join the pile of clothing.
I leaned back resting my weight on my elbows as I watched him. I was now almost bare in front of him, my panties were the only piece of clothing that remained, but by now they were soaking wet. The cool air heightening my need for him as my nipples peaked the skin pebbling in anticipation of his touch.
He stood at the side of the bed, his hazel eyes fixed on me as he unbuckled his belt, pulling it off in one swift movement and the next he pulled off his trousers kicking them off to the side. I trailed my eyes down the expanse of his body until they rested on his straining erection which clearly visible now that he was left in his briefs.
I gulped at the size, he was well endowed to put it nicely.
“Az…I don’t know if- if you’ll fit”
“I promise it’ll fit darling” he cooed “I just need to make sure you’re nice and wet for me”
 I squeezed my thighs together at the implication.
“Relax, princess” he said as he rested his hands on my knees, beckoning me to open my legs for him. I did and he settled himself between them pulling me, so my core was directly in front of him.
He licked his lips in anticipation before hooking his fingers on the waistband of my panties, pulling them off in one swift moment. I didn’t even have a moment to be embarrassed about being so bare in front of him because he immediately dove in.
I threw my head back in ecstasy as he lapped at me like a man starved. The sensations were so overwhelming I tried to close my legs, but his hands were there, holding me open like his own personal buffet. I felt the gentle prodding of his finger at my entrance as he pushed into me, slowly pumping it, while he licked at my clit.
“Fuck princess, you’re so tight” he groaned, his voice low and guttural as he pulled his finger out of me, licking my juices off before adding another, curling the digits inside of me while paying special attention to the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. I could feel my release building with every movement, but just as I was about to cum, he suddenly withdrew his fingers and his tongue. I let out a frustrated groan at the loss of contact.
“You’re not going to cum until my cock is buried deep inside of you” he said pressing a kiss to my inner thigh.
I sat up on my elbows, looking down at him as he crawled his way up my body caging me beneath him. I wrapped my arms around his neck pressing a kiss to his lips. The taste of me still lingered there but I didn’t particularly care. Unlike earlier this kiss was slow- thorough. Like we had all the time in the world, like we were the only ones in it. I couldn’t help but arch into his body. I needed his touch like I needed to breathe, and he was more than happy to oblige, he held our weight with one arm while the other snaked around my waist holding me tightly against him.
From this position, I could feel his cock resting at my navel so I reached between us pumping him slowly while using my thumb to spread the pearly beads of precum around the head of him. “fuck princess” he moaned at the sensation
At that encouragement, I pressed on his chest urging him to roll over “I want to make you feel good” I said softly “but I’ve never really…done this part” I said nervously “like used my mouth”
His hand encircled my wrist pausing my movements “There will be plenty of time for that later, but right now I need to be inside of you”
I felt a wave of wetness at his admission. I wanted him too. So badly.
“You ready y/n?” he asked gently “just one word and we stop.”
“I want this.” I said with a nod “I want you.”
He pumped his cock a few times before lining himself up with my entrance.
“Eyes on me princess” he demanded. I met his gaze, his pupils blown wide with lust as he rubbed himself in my wetness coating his cock completely before pushing into me in one swift movement.
I cried out at the sudden stretch, my body working to accommodate his considerable length.
He stilled inside me, giving me time to adjust before he began a torturously slow pace pulling completely out of me before pushing himself back in to the hilt. The long strokes allowing me to feel every vein and ridge of his cock.
“More” I panted
“Are you sure about that princess” he asked, his voice dark and sultry
“I’m good” I nodded meeting his hungry gaze.
“You’ll tell me if it becomes too much for you” he said lifting my legs from his waist to rest on his shoulders the new angle already driving him deeper
I nodded eagerly “I will”
“Alright princess” he said
He began with slow deep strokes and picked up the pace with each thrust. He brought one of his hands to hold my waist practically pulling my body into him as the other rested on my lower stomach his thumb finding my clit, rubbing lazy circles around the bundle in time with his thrusts.
The sensation was overwhelming, I had never felt so full or so stimulated. It was like every nerve in my body was thrumming with electricity. The only sounds filling the room were skin slapping and my moans of pleasure as he set a brutal pace, I could feel my orgasm building quickly.
My hands found his face and I pulled his forehead to rest against mine as I clung to him, my nails clawing into his back, leaving large red welts along the delicate lines of his tattoos. He flexed his shoulders at the contact and moaned at the sensation. He stilled inside me, his hand stroking my neck and jaw.
“I can feel how close you are princess” he groaned “You want me to make you cum”
“Y-yes please Az” I pleaded
“Aww. Listen to you begging like such a good girl” his thumb once again found my clit, rubbing it in quick circles.
“Look at me” he demanded “I want you to look at me when I make you cum”
He thrust deep into me, his movements on my clit fast but precise and without warning my orgasm barrelled through me, but my eyes met his and held his gaze as he chased his own release.
“Fuck princess, you’re gripping me so tight” he said before he came with a sinful sounding moan his eyes half lidded and his mouth slightly parted.
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips as he gently pulled out, the combination of our releases slowly leaking out of me as he stood.
“Stay there” he said retreating to what I assumed was his bathroom as I heard the faucet running.
He returned a moment later with a warm washcloth. He gently climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and he patted my legs urging me to open them for him. my legs were still shaking from my release, but I obliged.
“Relax. I just want to get you cleaned up” he reassured me as he ran the cloth between my folds cleaning off our juices, the warmth soothing the soreness that I could already feel was beginning to set in after our activities. Once satisfied with his work, he pulled the comforter down picking me up and tucking me under his blankets.
“Stay here” he warned “I’ll be right back”
I couldn’t help but be curious as to what he was doing, but just as I was about to get up and investigate he reemerged with a tray in hand. I sat up in his bed as he set the tray down on his side of the bed. I looked over to find that it had Tylenol, water, and an assortment of snacks and treats and my phone which I was grateful for because I hadn’t even remembered where I left it.
“Here” he said handing me a glass of water and a pill “It’ll help with any soreness.”
I downed it quickly, handing the glass back to Az.
“Can I have my phone?” I asked, he handed it over quickly as he settled himself in bed beside me. Pulling the covers over us both. I checked the time surprised to find that it was almost 6am.
I placed my phone face down on the table beside me.
“So, what now?” I asked Azriel
“Well, I would like to sleep” he teased “I’m quite exhausted”
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Feyre: Just checking in. You okay? Y/n: I'm more than okay. Be home tomorrow 😘 Feyre: 🍆?
I rolled my eyes at my phone, a smile on my lips at the fact that she was right about Az and I.
“Do I need to get you home anytime soon?” he asked pulling me closer into him, wrapping his arm around my middle.
I rolled over so we were face to face “No, I’m really enjoying this. Just being here- alone with you”
“So am I princess” he said pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Before I knew it, I slipped into a dreamless sleep, safe in the arms of a man I despised 24 hours ago, who knew that one night could change everything.
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