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levantea · 3 years

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Insomnia | h.hyunjin

Pairing: neighbour/tablemate!hyunjin x insomnia!y/n

Genre: some angst and fluff at the end :D

Rating: PG

Warning: curse words, arguments, slamming, throwing things lol, really long one shot splitted to 4 parts

Word Count: 10k

Author’s note: well, i suddenly thought of this theme cuz im having insomnia on alternate days so let’s not put it to waste, i really hope that it flows till the end cuz its my first time writing such long one shot, if you like it please like and comment !!

Synopsis: “All i needed was you to lean on me more.”

Masterlist 🖤

———————————————————————————

I hate him.

I hate everything about him.

I hate that he was always the one seeing my vulnerable side when i tried so hard to keep it away from the outside world.

I hate that no matter how many clashes i had with him, he still appeared infront of me without fail whenever i was at my worst.

I hate that no matter how much i hate him, my heart still beats for him.

Why can’t i resist you when i hate you so much?

ᴏɴᴇ.

“Day 465 of insomnia,” you mocked at yourself while looking at the calendar record on your phone.

It has been a year and 100 days since you were diagnosed with insomnia and no matter how many pills you popped in to drive your sleep, you still ended up having eyes widely open, staring into the darkness and the barely visible ceiling above you.

“What will happen if the ceiling falls?” “What will happen if i fell asleep someday and god just decides to take me away” you asked yourself these kind of stupid questions everyday at 3am. No matter how much you flipped on your bed, no matter how many soothing music you played repeatedly for the whole night, no matter how long your diffuser was on, no matter how dark the environment is, you still can’t sleep.

All was because of an incident that backdated to a day before you started falling out of slumber.

—

1 year and 100 days back

That day was a rainy day and you received a call from one of your classmates to pick up your ex boyfriend at a bar. You remembered clearly that he told and reassured you that he was just having a gathering with his guy friends whom they never met for a year and will be home before 12am. You always trusted him as he never betrayed or created any suspicions before, hence you didn’t stop him from going anywhere with his friends since he needed some personal time too.

You were never a demanding girlfriend that requested him to stay by your side 24/7 or spending large amount of money on yourself. All you needed was someone to lean on and listen to you, showering you with love that helps to compensate for the lack of love from your family. If you would like to compare your family against your close friends ones, you can simply conclude that your family is the most chaotic out of all.

Father was being a useless piece of shit that barely work hard to earn money for the family, mother was being a Type A who controls every single shit she sees. They both always fought, especially during the weekends, about money.

Money, money, money. Yeah, money is not the problem but the problem is having not enough money. Your family is mostly financially supported by your mother, which you can understand where her frustrations come from. It is just the way of her expressing was more like an attacking mode, eventually causing your self defense to rise. She would always find any sorts of reasons to pick a fight with you since you were 7 and things hasn’t turn well even though you are entering adulthood. You were raised up to be tough and you barely shed any tears, because you learn by hard that no one will understand you. The only source of happiness you can get from then was to have a boyfriend, and you did receive them until that day.

After ending the call, you swiftly grabbed an umbrella and dashed to the bus stop without wearing an extra layer outside to retain your body warmth. All you knew was to get there fast and bring your boyfriend home, make him a cup of hot tea and tuck him in his beds. You already got your plans out until it was shattered when you arrived at the bar and you saw most of his friends were tipsy or drunk, collapsing on the tabletop. However, the only person you didn’t see was your boyfriend, hence you approached one of his friends who was still partially sober as compared to the others.

“Jayden? Jayden is in….is in…. the… washroom i think,” he shakily pointed at the direction of the washroom, smiling foolishly before making a burp from the alcohol he took. You knew that he was going drunk soon so you quickly asked before he passed out. You mumbled a ‘thanks’ before walking to the washroom, while passing by many males and females who were around your age, clinging onto one another and making whispers to each other’s ears, exchanging seductive looks, making unnecessary touches on each others’ bodies, causing you to internally puke at the sight you caught.

How filthy this place could go, you judged.

You were never fond of bars or clubs as you felt that the environment was too shady and many people who went there were to find hookups, one night stands or friends with benefits, which were never your thing. However, you closed one eye as you heard that your boyfriend kind of enjoy it occasionally and you tried to understand from his point of view. Even though you dislike it, you can’t possibly stop him from going since he has his own rights too. And now you blamed yourself for being too kind on him when you looked back at it.

You finally arrived at the entrance of the gents toilet, but you were hesitating if you should barge in as you were worried if there were other guys in there, but you were also afraid that your boyfriend may pass out in the toilet before exiting the bar. After moments of self conflict, you decided to go for the riskier choice which was to barge in. Right before you pushed the door, a hand grabbed onto your wrist firmly, stopping you in your actions.

You turned around to find a guy who was almost a head taller than you, having a blonde neck length hair with a half ponytail, wearing grey contacts and his skin was pale and flawless, together with slight smokey eyeshadow. His lips were exceptionally attractive - pink, glowy and plump, passively seducing you. He was wearing a red and black racer long-sleeve shirt with a pair of leather pants that were hugging his torso perfectly, showing the outline of his broad shoulders yet thin waist, as well as his long legs which makes him alluring. Despite being taken, your heart still skipped unconditionally when he was intensely staring at you or even into your soul, while holding onto your wrist.

“Don’t go in,” his manly and husky voice projected to your ear and you hated to admit that he sounded nice as well. However, you felt more puzzled when he asked you not to go in, with the fact that you both don’t know each other.

“Why?” you spitted out of defensiveness. Being an egoistic and bold person, you don’t like to be ordered around and you like to act spontaneously. The more people ask you not to do so, the more you want to do it. Coming back to reality, you slowly started to feel offended when he just came out of nowhere, stopping you in your tracks as if he knew what you wanted to do all time long. As much as he was that charming, you still have some sense of rationality and bearing in mind that your task was to collect your ex boyfriend home.

“You will regret,” he also answered you sassily while tightening his grip on your wrist, making you feel uncomfortable and tried to resist his grip.. You snapped off as you started to lose patience talking to a stranger who acted all mighty infront of you. You internally cursed at the guy for being a nosy posy and you hissed at him, ignoring what he just warned you and forcefully claimed back your hand to push the door open.

“I told you not-“ the latter behind you rolled his eyes when he saw you ignoring him and as he was about to hold you back, you were already inside the gents and it was out of the distance that he could still grab onto you. He cursed silently before following your traces, praying that time would slow down before you see what you would never expected yourself to see,

but god decided to be evil that day, or the otherwise.

You went in seeing no one in the toilet and now you don’t understand why the guy earlier on wanted to hold you back. You already formed a bad impression of him in your mind but what was more important was to find your nowhere to be seen ex boyfriend whom his friend claimed that he was here. You saw all the cubicle doors were open and you became confused. You paused in your steps a little to process the whole place, until you heard faint sounds coming from your right side.

The janitor’s room.

That was the only corner you didn’t check as you thought that it was meant for the janitors and typically who in the right mind would hide in there when they are coming into the washroom. However, the closer you walked to the janitor’s room, the sound that was coming out from there also gotten louder.

It wasn’t just a normal fiddling sound, but more of obscene sounds, or you would call it as moans. You started to suspect if there were people having intercourse in the tiny room, which was kind of normal in a bar or club to have people fucking in any corner but the key question was, who were the ones fucking?

You internally prayed to god that they were strangers and better not be your ex boyfriend. Even though you said you trusted him, but the odds on him fucking in a bar with a hot girl was not entirely impossible. Anxiety started to kick in as you had cold sweat, trembling hands and your feet turned numb as you took each step closer to that room. The guy behind you could no longer stop you and what he hoped was, you wouldn’t overreact too much or create a scene in the gents room.

You mastered all your courage and took a peep at the small gap in between the door after taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. As you looked in it closely, you could see a male figure who had similar body build as your ex boyfriend but you couldn’t confirm as his back was facing the door. Waiting a little more, you finally saw the extremely familar face when he turned his position to fuck the girl in another position. What’s worse, the girl who was getting fucked wasn’t simply a stranger,

she was one of your closer friend in class.

Your whole mind just went blank. You still couldn’t believe your eyes who just caught the whole steamy session between someone you loved and someone you cherished. All the symptoms of your anxiety seemed to worsened and you felt like fainting in that moment, but you still gritted on your teeth and forced yourself to stay awake.

Hatred, betrayal, disappointment, distrust, anger - all sorts of negative feelings piled up in you at once when the scene still went on and sounds getting louder. You really wanted to tear the door down and confront them but you felt your legs were nailed to the floor.

Was it because you were being too taken aback, or was it because of your anxiety, or was it because you were not courageous enough to confront them?

You were standing there, absorbing whatever was playing for a good 5 minutes before deciding to leave that fucked up place and fucked up people for your own good. You arrived to a conclusion that there was no point wasting your time and effort to talk to people who don’t even respect you, not to mention about breaking your trust. Before leaving, you saw the guy who was stopping you earlier on leaned against the wall, watching everything that was showcasing infront of him as if he was watching a drama.

You hated him. You hated that he was there for no reason when it did not involve him at all but he just had to be there at such a right time right place to watch how amusing you are. You hated how he looked into your eyes with pity when you were already getting riled up and you hoped to walk infront of him and slap his face, asking him to stop looking at you as if you needed that pity.

What made you hated him the most was him running behind you after you dashed out of the bar, walking under the rain, in hope that the rain will wash away the filthy scene you saw and the dirty people you knew. He followed behind you for a good 15 mins and both of you were drenched as hell.

“Why are you following me? Do you know me? Do i know you?” you finally stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him, throwing questions at him to hear his response. You couldn’t care if he was going ro be hurted or offended by your words, because that moment you hated males so much that you prayed they will just disappear from earth that instant.

“I don’t know you, you don’t know me, i followed you because i was worri-“

“Shut the fuck up, don’t need you to act saint here, if you want to have a hookup just fucking ask it away, if not then fuck off,” you spitted at him as you glared at him in his eyes, only to find his gaze getting colder.

“Hookup?! What do you mean? Oh so you actually thought that everyone who go to bar are horny people who just wants to get laid?!” You could see that he was triggered as well when he took big steps and stood right infront of you, spitting into your face.

Even though you knew that only a handful of them are like that, but you were too preoccupied by your grievance and you spiky personality that gave rise to that conflict.

“So?! Don’t all guys do that? I don’t believe you guys just go to the bar, sit there, drink alcohol with friends when it could be done at home in the same way. If so, all bars can shut down already,” you retaliated back and it became an eye staring contest.

If only you were a guy, you sweared that he could have just punch you in your face because you were being such an asshole. He stayed silent after you finished your sentence, passively proving that your statement is somehow valid.

“See? I’m right, guys are no different from one another,” you letted out a sarcastic laughter and passer-bys were judging both of you, arguing for nothing while standing under the heavy downpour. You decided to turned to your heels and left him there, but your legs decided to give way at such a good timing, causing you to fall on your knees, right smack on the concrete path and bleed from the abrasions.

“Fuck my damn life,” you cursed as you felt that you have never been such a clown in your whole 18 years of life, especially in public and someone you don’t know and had conflict with.

He must be mocking at my stupidity, he must be and he have to be because i am one.

You tried to stand back up but you noticed that you strained your ankle as you stumbled upon your steps. You were close to falling again until you felt someone holding you firmly by your waist, preventing another tragedy.

“Stop being so stubborn woman, i know you are upset but get a hold of yourself first,” the guy behind you hissed, once again triggering your self defense mechanism and you tried to push him away.

“Why would you care? Let me die then, im better off- oi!” Before you could even finish your sentence, you were already being carried in bridal style by the guy you fought earlier, leaving you speechless.

“Did i sa-“

“You are talking too much, save some energy,” he cutted you off once again and brought you back to the direction that the bar was located and you questioned the route.

Rude bitch, you thought and rolled your eyes at him.

“Getting my car is faster than the bus that drives at grandpa speed,” he took out the key that was in his pocket and pressed to activated it in seconds. You were watching silently and lowkey in awe that he did everything so seamlessly and was weirdly mesmerising to you. You shook you head vigorously and mentally scolded yourself that you were being crazy and heartbroken, thus everything you saw and heard was wrong and you just needed to sleep it away.

You didn’t bother to argue with him anymore as you started to feel headache and body heating up due to the rain and the pain that was piercing your skin. Nonetheless, those cannot be compared to the pain in your heart that cannot be bandaged.

You find it absurd that after all the childish arguments you had with the dude beside you, he was still being patient enough to run his way to you and carry you back home. Even though your instinct was telling you that he most likely have another agenda against you, but it is still better as compared to your ex, who was still busy fucking in the janitor’s room and didn’t bother to give a shit about calling or texting where he was.

Maybe a hookup is better than a relationship, you started to reconsider your stand against relationship and wondering if you should open your choices, since you are pretty popular in school as well.

You took over the towel that was handed by the guy beside you to wipe away the raindrops on your body to avoid worsening your cold and you mumbled a ‘thank you’ that was inaudible, but you were too sick of talking about anything and just wanting to get into the bathtub and sleep.

But the problem is, even if you want to try to get some nap in the car, the moment you close your eyes, all you can see was the whole scene replaying non stop, which was comparable to a nightmare.

“Annoying piece of shit,” you cursed under your breath as you harshly opened your eyes and looked out of the window. The sleepiness was long gone as your brain can’t get that incident out of your brain.

The whole trip was silent until you arrived at an apartment’s carpark that you did not see before.

“Where is this?” you asked.

“My house.”

ᴛᴡᴏ.

Weird.

He is weird.

He is definitely not what he is.

As much as you could remember that night, you sweared that you didn’t expect yourself to walk out of his house safe and sound, you were ready to be thrown with questions such as “do you want to be friends with benefits with me” “trust me, i will treat you well” etc but it didn’t happen.

What’s more, a guy who is a badboy, who drinks, who smokes and vapes, who has tattoo on his arm and leg was freaking, taking care the shit of you. No matter how much you whined and pushed him off, he still stayed there in silent to clean you up, feed you with medicine, tuck you to sleep and comforted you when you woke up from a really bad nightmare.

That’s why you thought he was weird. Someone who don’t know you could take care of you so well, uncomparable to a boyfriend you had for 2 years.

You asked him, why did he took all the initiative, he just replied, “you were too broken to care for yourself and i am the only one there who can do it.”

It was unnecessary though, really. Which stranger in the right fucking mind would go to that extend and not do anything out of limit? He could have just ask for your address and drop you there, or bring you to a hotel and leave you there or even ask for more, but the whole experience felt like, you were his girlfriend.

Not giving up, you continued to probe him in the morning before you left until he finally admitted that “because you looked like my ex” that pissed you off. You were tilted not because he mentioned his ex but because he took you in due to your pathetic circumstance and he resembled you with someone that was his past lover when you don’t even know her, or even him.

“You know, i would rather you to not take me in and left me there instead of acting all nice and treating me like a princess when im not even your ex nor do i even know her. I know i am pathetic, but the things you did just make me feel like im even worthless, i can’t even be myself and i have to look like your fucking ex. If i didn’t look alike, you would probably ask me for sex or left me there already? Even though i am thankful for your care but really, if you already knew i am not your ex, then i would rather all this to not happen at the first place. Well, what has happened has happened, let’s just act as if we don’t know each other,” you dropped your lines and walked to the door, wearing your still dampened shoes. Right before leaving, you reminded him “by the way, my name is y/n, not your whichever ex that you dated.”

Honestly, you kind of regretted what you said after you left the house while taking a cab home. Maybe out of anger from the day before, you just transferred all your negative feelings to someone whom you barely know and don’t deserve to receive that from you, despite linking you to his ex. His intention wasn’t bad at the start, but you just felt like you hated everything you see and hated your existence on this world. If you could rewind the time, you hope to apologise to him for being so rude after he took care of you that night for no matter what reasons.

Maybe God has heard it, he planned it for you.

After you returned home, you mother asked you into her room and announced to you that you will be moving out with them and into another apartment as the rental fee has increased in your current house while she bought a second hand apartment which was cheaper. She also asked you if you would like to transfer to another college that is closer or remain. You told her to give you 2 days to think about and left to wash up.

From that day night onwards, sleeping became an almost impossible routine for you as you flipped through your bedsheets countless times, sourcing for remedies to solve your insomnia but none of them actually worked. Strangely, you also don’t feel lethargic in the day and everything goes on as per normal. You were not sure what exactly caused it but all you knew was, you felt your emotions getting numb and you barely smile anymore.

Also thanks to the insomnia, you made up your mind to change school as you summarised that the current college you were in was full of toxic bitches and you wouldn’t want to face the 2 of them anymore.

You get out of bed early next day to pack your bag and prepared to submit the transfer letter that you did it in the middle of the night. You only told a few of your closer friends that stick by you for the past 2 years. When you were packing your remaining books, your ex boyfriend came to you and acted as if nothing happened, asking why you didn’t answer his texts or calls the day before when you got home from the guy’s house.

You saw the girl that was getting fucked stood a distance away, staring at the both of you and you betted she thought you couldn’t see it. You didn’t want to act stupid anymore but just replied, “does it even matter anymore? You should care for the one behind you more.”

You smirked when he turned his head behind and saw the girl flustered when you caught her red handed. Your ex boyfriend turned his head back to you and his facial expression changed.

You knew something, or everything.

“Let’s end this Jayden, we don’t suit, and you already knew all time long,” you slammed the locker door infront of him, zipping up your filled bag and walked down the corridor to leave the school. You couldn’t care much about the latter calling you from behind, trying to explain what you saw was what you thought but, only ghosts would believe in that.

You were proud of yourself for ending everything in a day - transfer of school, breaking up with your ex, tearing the friendship apart with that girl and leaving that shitty neighbourhood. No tears were shed, no complains were made, only actions proven your disappointment towards the area you grew up in.

Your mother didn’t expect you to agree to moving out so fast as you always retaliated the thought of it. For once the house was peaceful during the packing process and it was done within 2 days to move into the new apartment. Before leaving, you took a one last, detailed look of the house you spent 18 years in and it is time to put an end to it. Maybe changing a new environment helps to bring your sleep back. Even not, at least it means a new chapter of life will be starting.

When the truck drove into the vicinity of your new apartment, you realised that it looked awfully similar to the guy’s apartment that you went. You rubbed your eyes and looked out of the window again. To your dismay, it is the exact apartment he lived in because you could never forget his block number - 203. If you did not remember wrongly, he lived on the 10th floor, and you were silently praying that you were not moving into 10th floor as well.

Once again, God must be kidding you and you started to believe that God is bringing both of you together despite how much you want to stay a distant from him.

The moment your mother pressed on the 10th floor button, you felt thunder strikes right infront of your sight and your anxiety came back again.

Shit, what if he is right infront of us when the lift door opens? Shit, what will happen if we meet along the corridor? Shit, what if i need to converse with him?

Many what-ifs were popping in your mind as you couldn’t stop yourself from overthinking the different types of encounters you would have with him and how should you be acting like.

The lift door opened and there was no one out there. You letted out a soft ‘phew’ to ease your palpitating heart as you walked towards your new apartment. Thankfully, nothing happened as the corridor was empty as hell and you managed to enter the house safely.

Even though God spared you that time, you mother didn’t. After all the carton boxes arrived in the house, you were busy packing until your mother gave you another smaller carton which was filled with rice cakes. It was a tradition that when one move into a new house, they will give their neighbours ricecakes and welcome them to their house for housewarming. You always hated people coming to your house as you felt that it was such a hassle and some people just don’t know what courteousy meant, freeloading all the food they want without feeling embarrassed.

You had no choice but to distribute them and you were really praying hard the guy was not home so you don’t need to face him but you guessed it was all meant to be.

Knock knock. Omg please don’t open the door, please don’t open-

Click.

“Fuck my life,” you cursed under your breath when you saw the door opened, showing a similar male figure standing infront of you. It has only been a week and right now you are standing infront of him again despite you swearing not to meet him again.

He smirked as he looked at you top to bottom, passively teasing you, “oh?! thought you said not to meet again? but here you are standing right infront of me without me inviting.”

You really want to turned your heels and leave but you side-eyed seeing your mum observing your actions at the door and you have no choice but to put on a fake smile.

“Oh uhm hi, uh we just moved over today so my mum wanted me to give you the ricecake…” you voice trailed off as you stumbled when giving the ricecake. You mum couldn’t bear seeing your dumb actions and she rushed over beside you, widening her eyes when she saw the visual of the guy.

“Materialistic,” you mumbled which was loud enough for the guy to hear as he smirked more under your eyes. Your mother instantly had a 360 degree change in her facial expressions and her tone was extremely polite, “Oh hi handsome! oh yes we just moved over, this is a ricecake for you, when you are free do come over to our house for a meal!”

You darted your eyes over to your mother and nudged her hands, but it was unsuccessful as she managed to avoid it before you do it, making you even awkward.

He took over the ricecake from your mother and smiled, “will do, i am free tomorrow night, i can drop by yea.”

You internally facepalmed at the 2 people infront of you and you really hope that the ground will swallow you up right now.

What the fuck was he trying to do? Didn’t i say not to meet again, don’t he understand?

You didn’t bother to stay there longer as you knew that your mother will probably stick around there because she had her eyes glued on him, as if she was choosing her future son-in-law.

“Let’s go mum, don’t bother people more,” you pulled her off and bring her back to the house.

You plopped down on your bed, roughly combed your hair back as you were still processing the whole moving house thing and how you actually became neighbours with the guy you don’t wish to meet.

“Crazy, this is crazy, life is crazy.”

ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ.

“Y/n, go set the tables, im going to call the handsome boy over in 15 mins time,” your mother ordered you from the kitchen as you glide your way from your room, unwillingly answered with a “mhm” to the kitchen to take out all the cutleries.

You were extremely unwilling to have that meal but you had no choice, who asked you to still being unable to be financially independent and move out of the house. It was only a day of peace before your parents start fighting moments back, until your father stepped out of the house to give each other some air time.

You always told yourself that “i don’t claim any negative energy from this” but you still ended up getting affected - unable to sleep due to anxiety, trauma, past problems haunting you. You tried to cry to release but you just couldn’t drop a single tear.

15 minutes was really fast as your mother almost dashed out of the house to knock on the guy’s door. You waited at your own house door to invite the guest in despite you pushing the role to your mum. It was her who invited him, not you. But you still gave in because she was close to picking a fight with you again so you decided to shut up and just stand there.

You could hear conversations exchanged between the 2 of them which caused you to roll your eyes. They barely knew each other but they were already talking as if they were each other’s godmother and godson.

“Welcome to our house! Make yourself feel like home okay, come take out your shoes and join me,” your mother served the guest as he bowed a little to show his gratitude, before darting his eyes over to you.

Why does his gaze always seems like more than just a stare?

You lowered your head right after your eyes met his burning stare and mumbled a ‘welcome’, closing the door behind you after he entered your house. He simply nodded and followed your mum, making you internally shouted a ‘sassy’ behind his back.

“Come take a seat, ill get you both a bowl of rice, you guys can talk first,” your mother decided to put on the “all nice mummy” figure which you don’t often see it in her.

You awkwardly stood by the table as you were contemplating where to sit. If you sit beside him, you both would be very close to one another. If you sit with your mum, you would be sitting opposite him and you have to face him everytime you eat. Either choice don’t seem very appealing to you.

“Why are you standing there? Sit beside him,” your mother glared at you for not knowing how to entertain guest and pointed to the seat beside him with her head as she placed the rice bowl on the table. She changed her expression in split seconds again and talked to him nicely.

Who is her biological child excuse me?

You silently walked to the other side of the table and sat down, looking down at the rice as you were unsure of where to look. Look at him? look at your mum? look at the pillar? Maybe looking at the food is better.

You saw a hand shifted a pair of cutleries from your right side and you looked up and back to your rice. You then realised you placed your own set with his because you were distracted. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ and shyly take them over, silently eating your food.

Throughout the whole meal, your mother was outright shooting questions at the guy, whose name was Hyunjin when your mother asked, never leaving out a single detail of it.

“What’s your name?” “How old are you?” “Where’s your family?” “Where are you studying?” “Do you have a girlfriend?” “What is your ideal type?” etc kind of questions. The more you hear her going on and on, you felt like covering her mouth and ask her to stop harassing him. What surprised you was, Hyunjin didn’t even show a single impatience towards your mother, but gladly answering every single of them as if he needed to. You don’t think he was stupid enough to not know that your mother was trying to dig into his background and to matchmake him with you.

Even after the meal has finished, she still held onto him to stay back for desserts that you wasn’t aware of until she took the icecream out of the fridge.

She planned it all. It was a propaganda from the start.

You really wanted to give her a round of applause for her plan and everything just fell into place so perfectly. You were so done with that day and you hope that the whole session would end right then so you could go back to your room and rest, but you didn’t know the both of them can possibly talk all night long and your mother seemed to be very satisfied with him, despite her telling you not to give a look at badboys when you were younger.

Finally after 2 hours, your mother decided to let him go and she asked you to send him back. You questioned why was there a need when his house was only at the other corner of the corridor. She just ignored and shoved you out of the house, rushing you to walk him back and you sighed.

You both awkwardly walked beside one another and thankfully it was just a 30 seconds walk. You were hesitating if you should apologise for the past but it felt so random if you were to bring it up again. As he was entering his pin to enter his house, you stopped him.

“Uhm, my mother was being abit pushy today, i hope you don’t mind, im sorry,” you apologised nervously as you played with your fingers uncontrollably due to your anxiety. The sorry wasn’t just a plain sorry. The sorry contains your apology from the past, the day before and that day, or everything since they start of both of you crossing paths. Once again, he turned around and looked at you with that intense stare, which you were afraid yet mesmerised by.

His eyes seem like they can hook my soul away.

It was quite awhile before he answered, “i understand, it’s fine, good night,” he ruffled your hair lightly, giving you a faint smile before entering his house and closed the door.

You froze at your position as you tried to process what just happened. Did he just touched your hair? Did he just smiled at you? Did he just-

“Y/n! You still don’t want to come home?!” your mother hollered from the other end of the corridor as you came back to earth and ran back to your house.

And how would you know that you would meet him the next day at the lift lobby again, wearing the same uniform.

—

“Morning,” he greeted monotonously as he saw you waiting for the lift to come. You greeted back and skimmed through his attire.

It was your first time seeing him wearing a uniform and his hair was dyed black. It was blonde a week back and he already changed colour fast. You also no longer saw the neck-length hair as he cutted it short, making him seem more down to earth now.

He still wore contacts but it was enough for him to look good despite without makeup. His tattoos were well covered since the sleeves were long, so he looked like a boy-next-door and he seemed more approachable now.

What approachable? He wasn’t mean at the first place…

The lift came and you both entered. It was awkward as none of you spoke anything and just silently waiting for the lift to reach the ground floor. Right before the lift door opened, you heard his voice from the side.

“Do you need a ride?”

You looked at him and saw him raising his eyebrows abit, waiting for your answer.

Although you were tempted, but you felt that it was better to stay a distance as, you both are not from the same world after all.

Status, family, personality everything about you and him just felt different. Even though he was a badboy despite having that scholar looking, it was definitely better as compared to a wallflower like you.

No matter where you go, what you do, what you say, you will never be the one who got the attention from people and quietly living your life, barely having people who were genuinely by your side to support you. Even though you didn’t have bad blood with any of your schoolmates in the past, you were still never the one that people remember.

Let’s not be stupid y/n, you both aren’t the same, and he saw the worst of you, don’t repeat again, remember how much you hate him?

“Nah it’s fine, i’ll take the bus,” you dropped your words and left the lift quickly, not giving a single chance for him to respond.

It wasn’t that bad to take a bus as well, you reached on time and head straight to the general office to collect your school and name badge, while your form teacher was already waiting for you there with a wide, welcoming smile.

“Morning y/n! Really nice to see you and having you here, come let me bring you to your classroom,” she lightly patted your shoulders which made you feel warm and finally, you don’t have to stuck with your lousy form teacher in your previous school who don’t give a shit about students’ welfare.

You nodded your head as you followed behind her tracks, earning some attention along the way and you thought they must be discussing that they didn’t see you before and you look new.

It was just a 3 mins walk to the classroom that was located in third floor and your anxiety strikes again before you entered the classroom. Your form teacher went in first to get the class settled down, before beckoning you to go in.

Why am i being a pussy now?

You swallowed your saliva nervously, taking a harsh deep breath before walking in the class as if nothing happened and stood infront of them.

Wow, so that’s what they meant by a school of visuals. You briefly browse through the whole class until your eyes captured an extremely familar face, that you saw this morning.

Bruh, he is really everywhere, you thought.

“Come, introduce yourself!”

“Uhm, hi my name is y/n and i just transferred from (prev school),” you ended your introduction briefly and signalled to the teacher that you are done.

She askwardly laughed and said, “i guess our friend here is pretty chill haha, uhm would you mind sitting next to Hyunjin? He doesn’t have a partner till now,” she pointed at the seat beside the guy and you saw him smirking at you, as if he already knew what happened from the beginning of your transfer.

“Ms Kim, can i-“

“Alright, this is it, do get to your seat soon and i’ll be starting the lesson in 1 mins time,” your teacher just cutted you off before gently pushing you to walk to your seat as she turned to sort her materials.

You felt your legs getting heavier as you took each step closer to him while hearing some nasty comments made by the girls.

“Bro what the fuck? She’s sitting next to him that i dreamt since year 1.”

“I know right, this is so unfair.”

“She’s so annoying, can she transfer back?!”

And it goes on.

You unwillingly pull the chair and sat on it, hooking your bag at the side of your table as you took out your materials, trying to ignore whatever shit that was said by your classmates.

It was only 5 minutes and i am already getting hated, am i a jinx of something?

“No you are not, they are the jinx,” the latter beside you replied while continue to look at his phone under the table. You darted your eyes at him and asked why did he know what you were thinking and you realised you subconciously spilled your thoughts under your breath and he caught it.

You felt like slapping yourself right now for being a dumbfuck infront of him, always and never fail.

You still couldn’t understand why suddenly all the connections became tied with him. Brokeup incident, neighbour, tablemate, and you were still unsure if there were more to come. It was hard for you to not hate him despite trying to brainwash yourself to think that you could start from 0 with him and make friends but now, you seemed like you couldn’t get peace in school as well.

Throughout that 1 whole year, you almost suffered nasty remarks made from girls across the school just because you sat beside the ‘Mr Popular’ and people were spreading rumours about both of you. He also didn’t try to justify anything which caused the rumour to stir even more, especially when he protected you from some people who were going overboard.

Thankfully, you still managed to make few friends who understood your circumstance and they told you that it wasn’t the first time that this kind of shit happened. But what was different this time round was, he didn’t stood up to clarify anything but protected you from those mean people. They also shared with you that even though he looked like a playboy, he actually never played with any girls in the school before except for a few exes that he dated for a period of time, before splitting.

As tablemates, he wasn’t that bad as well. He wasn’t someone hard to work with and he actually cooperated with you most of the time and listening to your plans. He also stepped in at the right time to stop people from verbal bullying you which ended up causing the rumour to spread more, making you going to school with stress everyday.

You would say that your relationship was neither good nor bad with him. Even though he was taking more initiative at times, but you ended up pushing him away because you felt like you don’t deserve him. But there were also times when you really felt like wanting to get closer to him, because you found yourself being attracted to his personality.

All these problems added on to your already heavy flowed worries and worsening your insomnia. Every night you thought of how to sort your love and hatred towards your neighbour aka your tablemate because you knew that you hate him, but you also like him. It made everything harder for you to face him in school everyday acting as if nothing happened while he continued to talk to you at times in class.

You felt apologetic because you were rude to him again when you felt conflicted in your heart as you heard him talking. You were being an avoidant bitch that don’t look into your heart carefully and ask what you exactly want, causing more hurt to people around you.

You always thought that keeping a distance from him would be ideal, so you shouted or cursed at him at times to develop more hatred in your heart for him, but you were wrong. The more you did it, you found yourself falling deeper for him as he always looked at you, silent, with slight frown in between his brows.

Don’t look at me like this, please, i am really trying my best to hate you, keep a distance from you, because i know that we are different, but you keep making me fall for you more whenever you said that “it’s okay, i understand” “sorry, was i being overboard?” “i’ll leave first so you can cool down” etc.

He never lost a single patience or temper infront of you, but always calmly walked away and giving you space to breathe. Despite not saying anything, he would always ensure you were safe and sound, watching you from a distance, leaving when he knew you were angry.

How many more to go? How long do you have to put up with this? How to sort your messed up emotions and feelings towards him? How to correct your insomnia when you noticed that, your brain was filled with him whenever you closed your eyes.

It was never about your ex boyfriend after 3 months of into insomnia, but its mostly about him. You hated the fact that he always sees you in your worst, trying to comfort you when you don’t want anybody to see it, offering help to you. The contradicting thing is, because of all these, you get to know about his character more and you fell for him.

“Lord, please give me an answer.”

ғᴏᴜʀ.

Now

“Did you take $1 million won from my bank?!”

“What? I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Don’t try to play a fucking fool here! You took it right ?!”

“So what if i took it? Aren’t we husband and wife? Why can’t i take it?”

“YOU STILL KNOW THAT WE ARE HUSBAND AND WIFE? YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO BUILD 1 MILLION WON? AND YOU JUST TOOK IT LIKE I PRINT CASH NOTES?!”

Pang, the sound of glass shattering could be heard.

You were in the room studying until you heard your father came back home and your mother started confronting your father about a large sum of money that was deducted from her bank.

Pang, another glass shattering.

You covered your ears to stop the conflict outside from affecting you. Your exams are in 5 days time and today is new year’s eve. Whenever you heard your parents fighting, your anxiety will be triggered and you lost focus in things you do.

No matter how hard and tight you covered your ears, you can still hear arguments, things shattering, slamming of items in the living room that grows your frustration.

“SEE?! I KNEW IT! YOU TOOK IT TO FEED YOUR LOVER OUTSIDE RIGHT?!”

“I ALREADY SAID I TOOK IT TO INVEST! STOP ACCUSING ME!”

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU! IT WASN’T THE FIRST TIME ALREADY! IT HAS BEEN 20 YEARS!”

“AND SO? WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW? DIVORCE?”

“DIVORCE?! YOU GOT THE CHEEKS TO TELL ME DIVORCE? I SHOULD BE THE ONE SAYING IT!”

You had enough of the fighting outside and you decided to close your book and leave the house to get some fresh air. It will be awful to stay in the house and enter into a new year with conflicts.

“OKAY, DIVORCE THEN!” Your mother throw a book at your father but it unfortunately hit your head, causing a slight bleeding which caused them to go silent.

You quickly covered your wound with your hands as you looked at them wrongfully. You were so speechless with their actions and you couldn’t take it anymore and dashed towards the door. You can’t spend a single second in this house anymore.

“Where are you going?!” your mother shouted from the back as you opened the door, wearing your slippers and ready to leave.

“Where am i going?! Do you even care? Continue to fight, divorce as you wish, i had enough of the both of you already and im not going to spend my new year with you!” you couldn’t control anymore and lashed st your parents who were dumbfounded when they heard your response, and that was when the realised you are the most hurted person.

You slammed the door back and turned your heels to the lift, but stopping in your tracks as you saw Hyunjin standing infront of you, wearing a plain white tee with a black checkered cardigan outside, black leather pants and a pair of glossy black boots, holding onto his motorbike helmet.

He stared you from top to bottom, frowning at the sight when he saw blood is flowing from your head, trailing down your side face. You looked back at him while panting hard as your blood was boiling, together with your anxiety attack that made you hard to breathe.

Again, why does he always see me when im in the worst condition?

You rolled your eyes and walked past him, pressing the ‘up’ button as you planned to go to the rooftop to take some fresh air. As you were waiting, you just noticed you were wearing your homewear without your coat and you cursed under your breath.

Should i go back or should i just go in?

The lift opened right when you were contemplating, but you decided to take the risk and go without the coat. The latter outside was still processing the blood on your head and when he wanted to chase behind you, the lift door already closed.

—

When you opened the rooftop door, a strong gush of chilly wind welcomed you and you subconciously hugged yourself to retain your body warmth. You tried to step out and you didn’t expect the weather could be so cold and you slightly regretted to come to the rooftop, but even if you went out of the building, you will still be freezing as your coat isn’t with you - either ways also die.

“Just 10 minutes,” you told yourself as you rubbed your bare skin that is exposed in the air, until you felt something warm covering you from the back. You flinched from the cloth and as you turned your head, you saw Hyunjin standing inches behind you.

“You are going to get a cold if you continue to stand here,” he spoke softly into your ears which sent goosebumps down your body. His warm breath came in contact with your skin, making your cheeks redden from the close distance with him.

“Why would you care?” you replied tiredly while you turned your head to face the scenery.

“Of course i care, i can’t bear to see someone losing their life in new year’s eve,” he held onto your hands firmly, pulling you together with him and ignored the tons of questions of “where are you bringing me to” from you.

You ended up finding yourself in his house, again. The familiar interior design, the familiar housewares, the familiar fragrance smell circulating in his house, and the familiar position you are standing at.

“Hah, after 1 year and 100 days, i am back here again,” you mocked at yourself as you snuggled into his coat more, sneezing a few times from the wind you suffered.

Hyunjin didn’t answer you but gently guide you to his sofa, settling you down before getting a cup of hot tea from the kitchen and place it in your hands. He also took a medical kit from his coffee table and gently clean your wound.

“You know, you don’t have to treat me so well, after all the hurtful words i said to you,” you looked down at the cup of tea as you started to feel the urge of tearing up. Guilt just shoved you off the edge of the mountain when the cotton bud came in contact with your head.

“It’s my choice, you didn’t force me to,” he replied calmly as he continued to wipe the last bit of blood off your head and gently pasted a plaster on your injury, making you wince abit when you sensed the pain.

“That’s why i hate you,” you spitted as you placed the cup of tea on his table, darting your eyes to him. He paused for awhile when he heard the word ‘hate’, and continued to pack the medical kit, tucking them under the table before turning his gaze to you.

“Y/n, i really don’t understand why you hate me, did i do anything wrong?” your heart melted when you saw his eyes and hear his tone, and that’s when you knew he was hurted badly, by you, all this time.

You didn’t meant to hurt him at the first place, but just to be honest infront of him, as well as your feelings.

“I hate you, because you always see the worst side of me. You saw me crying, kneeling, begging, going crazy, getting humiliated, getting verbally bullied, anything bad that you can name it. You know, i really really hate to appear vulnerable infront of anyone, even to my family or friends, because i don’t want them to think i am weak, i am clingy, i am an attention seeker….that’s why i wanted to appear strong… but you always came in at such a good timing to see me breaking down, and you were the only one to pick me up from the shattered world despite not knowing who i am, ughhhhh,” you spilled everything infront of him and as your sentence goes on, tears that were accumulated for ages started to fall down uncontrollably and you are a crying mess infront of him now.

He quietly and patiently listened to your confession, gently reaching out to your hands as he saw you were trembling so much, crying your lungs out and you needed something to support your weak body. You reciprocated by holding onto his hand tightly, as if he was your lifeline.

“I am pretty sure it is more than that,” he responded to your words and you felt exposed. You stifled as you were crying badly as you felt his grip on you became tighter, giving assurance to you.

“You are astute as ever,” you laughed at yourself because you felt like you had already lost the game with him.

“I also hate you because… i can’t resist you…” your voice trailed off as you were shy when you confessed your feelings infront of him, heart pounding at insane speed as he sat closer to you.

He continued to inch closer to you, making you slowly shifting your upper body further from him until you felt a firm grip on your waist, stopping you from avoiding.

It is the first time you looked at him so closely and you noticed he has a beautiful and flawless skin, perfect facial features and, pink and plump lips that is so captivating. You saw the corner of his lips curling up and you went puzzled.

Why is he smiling? Did i say something amusing?

“So can i take it as you like me?” His husky voice ringed in your ears as you felt his soft lips brushing against yours, while one hand gently wiping your tear stained away and hold onto your neck to make you face him.

You opened your mouth slightly as you stumbled over your respond.

“Ye,yes,” you sighed as you raised your white flag infront of him. You saw his grin grew wider and you knew that you lost, you lost so badly and all the nights of thinking of him just got busted.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, happy new year!” you heard the children at the playground below shouting when they saw fireworks painted the lonely dark sky.

“Look-“ you were about to ask Hyunjin looked out of the window to appreciate the firework before it fades but all you knew was his lips came in contact with yours, tasting them delicately and passionately, making both tongues dancing beautifully with one another. You were hesistant at first but he just pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss when you opened your mouth for him to explore further.

“You know, all i needed you was to lean on me more, i know that you had alot of misunderstandings with me when we first met, but my heart for you never changed, ever since i met you in the bar,” he hugged you closely to him after you both pulled away from the heated session.

“Happy new year y/n, the best new year gift is having you by my side,” he kissed the side of your earlobe before diving deeper into the crook of your neck.

You smiled at his confession and replied,

“I hate how you made me fall for you so badly but how much i hate you is how much i love you, and i guess my insomnia will be gone from now,” you pulled him away from the tight hug as you saw him pouted.

You leaned in to peck his lip and squeezed his cheek, making him pout more.

“Happy new year Hyunjin, and it took us long enough to get together, so let’s not seperate anymore.”

I used to lay in my bed,

for hours in the dark at night,

thinking about every possible thing in my life.

But i do not need to do so anymore,

because i found someone who can listen to me, talking to me in endless nights,

and most importantly,

i can be vulnerable infront of him no matter what happens,

and that is all it matter.

🦋

Author’s Note: Happy New year to everyone! I took quite a long time to finish this and i hope to publish by today because it is New Year’s Eve and i didn’t have time to vett through them so if there is any error, please forgive that as i have been really busy with schoolwork while coming up with this! If you guys like it pls give a comment cuz i feel v insecure abt this work omg but i also wanted to push it out cuz i like the idea ><

112 notes · View notes

getouswh0re · 3 years

Text

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: yandere, unhealthy relationships, mentions of violence, blood & gore, mass murdering, obsession, slight manga spoilers

synopsis: he would tear the entire world apart with his own hands, just to keep you by his side evermore.

****************************************************

Love is a lethal bliss.

Bearing semblance to momentary sweetness, it warms the cockles of your heart; yet before one could even savour it for long, in its honey-like aftertaste is a deadly poison — seeping through the branching veins and killing every cell of the living host within its reach. Soundlessly, life is sucked out as one discovers themselves teetering on a tightrope of death.

i) The ambience of the atmosphere between you and Gojo is silent, deadly — akin to the calming weather before a raging storm. As the two of you stand at opposite ends of the living room, eyes refusing to meet with the sorcerer’s as an expanse of sky blue smoulders holes into your soul. Feeling your limbs trembling from the intensity of his stare, cat got your tongue. The words you’ve meant to say are stuck at the back of your throat as the taller male shifts a step forward, and you unconsciously leaning back against the wall.

“Do we have to do this love?” You cringe at the feigned pain interlaced in your ex’s tone. “You know you don’t have to do this. This is painful for both you and I, and knowing how much you love me, you certainly don’t want to put both of us through all of this. Don’t you?”

You bite your lip, eyes downcast.

You wish all of this isn’t necessary, that everything that has happened is nothing more than your imagination regarding the red flags displayed before your periphery. Still, you have to do it having mulled over it for a while. It is about time that all of this come to an end.

Ever since a certain man called Gojo Satoru meandered into your life, everything changed as your feelings for the male blossomed, like fresh buds on the bare branches with remnants of snow thawing into tinges of spring. It didn’t take long for the two of you to reciprocate one another’s feelings, yet cracks gradually surface on what seemed like an all-too-perfect fairy tale, breaking the crystal ball of illusion that you had been trapped in throughout all these months.

For as long as you could remember, Gojo has been acting out of character; sure enough he retains his childish personality and insufferable god complex, yet there are times when you could barely recognise him. On occasions he would whine for hours, desperate to gain your attention, and there were moments when he’d follow wherever you went. Initially dismissing his clinginess as his way of displaying affection, you didn’t think much about it. That was until his demeanour underwent a 180 degree shift; being overbearing was one thing, yet the sorcerer had the audacity to dictate your life and your social circle, stepping his foot way past the boundaries that even you thought was too much.

It wasn’t like you didn’t give Gojo an opportunity to change for the better. You did; it was him who failed to reflect on his own mistakes, to take things for granted without realising he had been in the wrong all along. With those alarming signs of the relationship spiralling into a toxic one, it occurred to you that you should end things fast before circumstances aggravated.

Love is a beautiful pain.

To relish its fleeting vestiges between their fingertips, one must endure the torment of its thorns. Not everyone has the courage to sacrifice their sanity for something so transient, but one — or maybe few, who are more than willing to pay for their price, would do anything to hold onto such evanescent reminisces close to their heart.

ii) “Come on y/n. You know you don’t want to break up with me, stop lying to your heart.”

As if his saccharine smile isn’t enough to make bile surge up your throat, the lovelorn white-haired man stares at you with such adoration, making you revolted than ever; before you could even blink, he is already inches away, bringing up his slender fingers and caressing your cheeks with utter delicacy.

“From the moment we met, it’s like the red strings of fate intertwining, akin to two worlds colliding.”

Feeling his breath tickling your frigid neck, goosebumps laminate your skin as you shudder underneath his lasting touches.

“Your heart belongs to me, and mine yours. It’s like the universe wants the two of us to be together — forever. Just stop denying your feelings, okay? I can hear your heartbeat ... it’s beating crazy, just for me.”

“Gojo, you need to stop all of this —“

“Oh honey, don’t say that ... I know the look in those eyes.” He presses on, his insufferable ego refusing to give in. “You might be pushing me away, but your body does the exact opposite. You’re still in love with me. You care for me, I know you do.”

Perhaps that is what makes terrifying about the sorcerer. Wearing his usual smile on a deceptively charming face, his true thoughts are inscrutable beneath the unfazed facade; worst of all, you never know what would drive him off the edge, not until you experience triggering a ticking time bomb by accident.

“Gojo, hear me out.” You push the towering male away, determined than ever to cut ties with him for the sake of your own safety. “What you do is not love anymore. It’s ... obsession! And it’s suffocating me! If you truly cared about me you would’ve respected my wishes and opinions — but you didn’t. No matter how much you love someone, this is far beyond acceptable. I ... we need to break up, for the sake of both of us.”

Stunned, the remnants of hope flicker in the sorcerer’s azure eyes before dissipating into darkness, along with his despondent heart that has plummeted into abysmal depths of a bottomless void. Hands retracting from your skin, you heave out a sigh of relief when spine-chilling chortles echo from Gojo’s throat.

“You think that’s it? That I’ll let you go?” The crazed glint in his burning stare convinces you even more that breaking up with this delusional man is the only option to save yourself. Slowly backing towards the door, you have prepared yourself for the worst, making a potential run with a bag filled with your valuables.

“You cannot run away from me y/n! You know you can never escape from me. I will flip the world upside down to find you — and hunt you down! Want me to prove that? I will tear the entire world apart by my hands, just so that you won’t run away from me anymore!”

You finally make your run, sprinting out of your shared apartment as fast as you could whilst ignoring his shrilling screams, deciding to leave everything behind for good.

Love is an unprecedented enigma.

Like a never-ending Möbius strip, the red strings of fate intertwines people's fates — yet at the same time, it looms over everyone's lives like a doom of death, mercilessly tearing loved ones or those held dear to their hearts apart within the blink of an eye. Callous as it seems, it reminds people how minuscule acts of gratitude allow them to appreciate the present before they lament or carry their regrets later on in life. Unfortunately, with the complexity of destiny, nobody could ever foresee when karma would dawn upon their heads. Not even you.

Little would you know that doomsday would be awaiting you so soon.

iii) For what feels like going through hell and back, you finally manage to rid yourself out of the psychotic sorcerer's hands and his devious manipulation. For what it’s worth, there is no guarantee about your life returning to normal. Knowing that it is nearly impossible to escape from Gojo (knowing that his sixth eyes can instantly locate where you are), you eventually make the decision of moving away with a heavy heart, considering that it would be what it’s best to solve your issues with your controlling ex.

Having settled the documents and errands, all that’s left is for you to leave the place filled with nothing other than sad memories. As if it seems like a fresh start is extending its outstretched hands towards you, freedom is just within hand’s reach.

Not until all hell breaks loose on October 31st — the day of your departure.

Copper tinges beckon indigo skies at twilight, remnants of the setting sun shining through the windows as you take a last, rueful look at the apartment you’ve resided most of your life before grabbing your belongings and heading towards the train station. With the day being Halloween, it isn’t surprising at all that the streets would be crowded, flooded with jovial citizens who want to enjoy themselves during the spooky season. All you have to do is make your way onto the designated train.

Yet that never happened, because havoc descends among the living like a catastrophic plague.

Just as you writhe your way through the streets and making your way towards the train station, screams erupt when a massive quake demolish the surrounding buildings into shambles, tearing the festive merriment in the atmosphere apart as people turn and run in all directions without warning — leaving you extremely perplexed about the current state of Shibuya. Horror is evident in every onlooker’s eyes whilst they dash for shelter; the city is in absolute chaos — danger looming, asphalt pavements ensanguined with blood, distressed cries resonating into the night.

“Hey!” You call out, grabbing onto a random passerby. “What the hell happened?”

“Danger ... curses ... sorcerer —“

Your blood run cold upon the mentioning, and it didn’t take long for you to figure out the entire situation and who has been responsible. In hindsight, you should’ve had followed the rest and ran away from the scene immediately, but you don’t — standing there amongst the quiet streets in utter terror. And before you could even lift your legs and sprint for your life, there he is, stained from head to toe in blood — an inebriated stare full of nothing but infatuation for you.

“Honey! There you are ...” Skipping over mountains of corpses humming a joyful tune, Gojo happily pulls you into his chest, nestling his face against your squirming shoulders, his grip a vice against your futile efforts of struggling to break free. “I was so worried about you ever since you left! I ... I feel like my world is falling apart, and I just cannot live without you you know!”

“Get. The. Hell. Off. Me!”

The sorcerer chortles at your demand, ignoring your protests as he hugs you closer to his throbbing heart.

“Darling ... we could’ve been so happy together. Yet you have to do all of this. For what? If you had given me your heart and soul, none of this would’ve happened —“

“Oh, so this is my fucking problem now?” You hiss, shoving the taller male off. “You really are crazy — Gojo Satoru. But I never regret the decision I’ve made, and I will do it again and again if I need to!”

That is when he activates his domain expansion.

All of your sudden, your mind is a blank — staring into the sorcerer’s cerulean eyes as it overwhelms you like a raging hurricane, sucking you deeper and deeper until your entirety sinks into his infinite void. For once you finally fear the strongest man on earth — of the dangers he possesses and what would’ve happened had he decided to break your mind the hard way.

“To be honest, I don’t care ~” Silent tears roll down your cheeks once you recognise the drop in the man’s usual carefree tone, feeling the remnants of sanity being ruthlessly stripped away from you as you fall limp in Gojo’s loving arms.

“The seas can rage, the heavens will rumble. But no matter what happens, I’m never going to let any of this take you away from me — for you and I are the honoured ones, destined to be together ...”

With his voice dwindling to a hushed whisper, the sorcerer slips a shimmering ring onto your finger, declaring in utmost adoration his vows of undying love.

“In time and evermore.”

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celestial-fucking-weeb · 4 years

Text

WINTER WARMTH

__________________

Hi, everyone!! This is a part of the Citrus Dome Snowed In collab! I’m so thankful to be a part of this round and super grateful for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten and @tomurasprincess for letting me be on the masterlist! I’m so excited, but I’m not super proud of this one, so please feel free to give feedback.

Masterlist Here!

Go see everyone’s super awesome fics and art pieces they worked so hard on!!

ART BY @brttpaige on Twitter🖤 Go check out her artwork, she’s fantastic!

Warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, AGED UP (mid twenties), fluff, insecurities, smut, body worship, chubby kink, marking (hickies), Papi kink

Pairing: Sero Hanta x reader

The local news station hailed it as “the storm of the century,” and they weren’t wrong. You’ve watched the snow pile up beyond the window, building from a light dusting on the grass to literal knee-high drifts. And it shows no sign of stopping.

The place you’re stranded is stocked up on groceries, you’d charged every electronic device to your name, and you’d cranked the thermostat as high as it would go until the inevitable happens —

The power goes out.

So now you’re stuck indoors, with only a certain someone for company. The same someone you’ve been pining after for ages. Snow stacks up higher and higher outside. As the cold seeps in, and you both drift closer, you realize this was somehow the one thing you hadn’t thought to prepare for…

The snow outside was pretty at first, but now with the doors and windows to your small cottage-type home half covered, it seemed almost oppressive. With the power outage, there was no television to drown out the quiet, only deafening silence and the movement of your new roommate, Sero Hanta.

It didn’t start this way, you hadn’t always obsessively paid attention to his mannerisms. At one point in time, he was just a hero working for the same agency you provided medical care for. You were just support staff, until a dumb villain thought you were “important” and kidnapped you, leaving the heroes you saw as coworkers to rescue you. After that, the agency wanted you to live in the adjacent apartments, but you refused. Magically, two days later, Sero Hanta approached you asking about your spare room under the guise of his lease running out. You thought it seemed a bit suspicious, particularly that this gorgeous man had “nowhere else to go”, meaning no significant other to take him in. Of course, you agreed, being a nice person and maybe bit naïve. He moved his stuff in, didn’t make much of a fuss, and mostly left you to your own devices. That is, until you noticed some... abnormalities. The lingering glances, the newly installed security cameras, the not-so-subtle ideas to spend time with you of having meals together or watching movies, making sure you’d eaten or slept... He cared too much. He was so perfect- gorgeous, tall, easygoing, had similar goals as a rescue hero, funny, and he cared. He cared for you, which made living with him so much harder. You found yourself enjoying nights with him, wanting to sit a little closer, wanting to impress him with new dishes to make for dinner, ditching your ex’s sweatpants for cute sleep shorts, relishing in fantasies of his protective nature and dominating stature with your hand between your thighs... You thought you were going to choke when he started walking around in only gray sweats or a towel after his shower. You tried your best to keep eye contact, not stick around too long, not encroach upon his comfort in his own house. You failed to notice the smirk on his face when you quickly excused yourself or when you turned away too fast after being caught staring.

Sero had originally taken this as an assignment, although he did have a bit of a crush on you from the times you’d patched him up after rough shifts. He thought of himself as your own personal hero, but that mindset soon turned into more than just an assignment. He was protective over you, and he found himself getting defensive if you even mentioned another guy. He had tried flirting within reason, just making dinners and watching movies, but he got cocky when he had walked past your door one night and heard your little whimpers. He decided to test his theory, wearing his sweats lower than he normally would and walking back to his room in a towel, and delighting in strolling past your room to hear your muffled moans and the vibrations of the toy you never used to use. You were getting desperate, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t boost his ego to hear his name through the walls. This, however, was NOT something he’d planned on.

Everything was fine, being stuck in the house together was nice, until the power went out. The heat somewhat remained in the house until night, when you curled up on the couch under every blanket you had and he layered on an extra hoodie and lounged next to you. He looked cold...

“H-Hey... Sero? Um... You look cold. Do you want a blanket?”

“Hmmm, but then wouldn’t you be cold too?” He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck.

“Well... Maybe... But that’s okay! You need to be warm too!!” God, you’re so sweet.

“I mean... You could always come over here, we can be warm together!” He stretches out his arm and beckons you over, inviting you to curl up next to him. You shift over, spreading the blankets over your roommate and hiding your blushing face under the pile of softness, keeping at least 3 inches of space between you before he rests his arm behind your head.

“Thanks, y/n, this is uh... nice!” He hides his disappointment at your perceived rejection, going back to look at his phone.

After 20 minutes of scrolling, you can’t take it anymore. He smells so good, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“I’M GONNA GO TO BED NOW. Uh, goodnight!” You basically shouted, too loud to be natural. You abruptly stood up before slightly shrinking from the frigid air. When did it get so cold in here?

“Hey, it’s really cold... We don’t really have a ton of blankets, and I’m worried you’re going to freeze, so maybe we could sleep in my room tonight? Just for, ya know... body heat?” He sounds nervous, like he expects you to freak out and reject him completely.

“Well... I-I guess that’s smart... You’re right. So... Let’s go?” Holy fuck, you are so nervous. You were originally escaping to your room like you normally do, too horny to continue hanging out with Sero and retain your sanity, but now you’re sleeping with him?! What the fuck are you thinking?!

He gathered the blankets and lead you into his room, holding the door for you before plopping down your nest of fabric. You stand awkwardly in the center of the room, waiting for something you have no idea what. Sero unceremoniously strips himself of his hoodies and sweats and climbs into bed, seemingly out of habit, before turning his attention to you and holding the blankets open.

“Are you coming?” He smirks, putting on a confused voice that doesn’t quite match the mischief in his eyes.

“I-...” FUCK, he’s beautiful. Lean muscles flexing with every movement, shaggy hair falling over his face, and holy... The tight black boxers are NOT helping the whole “too turned on to function” situation.

“Oh... Sorry, I read somewhere that skin-to-skin contact is better for warmth. You’d probably know better than me, I guess.” He grins, as though this entire thing is nonchalant and completely normal. “I can help you if you’d like~”

“Uh nope, yeah, you’re right!! I’ll uh just... Can you close your eyes?” You are panicking. Every insecurity you’ve ever had is coming to bite you in the ass. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how much space your body takes up, remembering everything those stupid bitches in high school said about you.

“Y/n, you’ve seen me in that skin tight hero suit and you’ve patched up most of my body. It’s totally fine! PLUS, you’re sleeping in my bed, am I gonna have to close my eyes the whole night??” He jokes, not knowing that your shyness isn’t rooted in principle, but fear. Upon seeing your face, his smile falters and he autocorrects, “You know, I think you’re beautiful, but if you want me to turn around, I promise I will.”

“No, it’s-it’s fine. It’s okay. Wait- did you just call me beautiful?” You try to cover your shocked expression as you take off your sweater and slide off your fuzzy pajama pants. Sero is thankful your head is stuck in your sweater as his jaw practically drops. Oh fuck, he’s screwed. His eyes follow your curves from your chest, down your sides, to the pouch of your tummy and the plump fullness of your thighs... If he thought he was having trouble focusing before, there’s no way there’s gonna be enough blood in his brain when you’re half naked next to him... Speaking of... Shit, he’s hard... Okay, it’s fine, just tuck it in your waistband like you did back in school...

You climb into bed as quickly as you can, still keeping a few inches between you and Sero until he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. You squeak in surprise and he chuckles, “You can’t be warm unless you’re over here! C’mere.” He nestles his face into your hair and splays a hand across the curve of your lower back. Feeling very naked and very nervous, you shift in his hold and snuggle closer to the heat he gives off, but halt your motions when you feel him twitch against your thigh. Neither of you are breathing, praying the other didn’t notice the rock hard length pressed between your bodies. Somehow, in the time you spent essentially playing dead, you both fell asleep cuddled together.

Over the course of the night, you had shifted to straddle your leg over his torso and he had turned on his back with his hand resting on the space between your thigh and your butt. Sero was the first to stir from his slumber when he felt you move against him, a small whine escaping your parted lips as your hips rolled against his. Oh... OH... Is y/n-? oh fuck y/n is dreaming... and grinding on me... fuck, this shouldn’t feel so good... He tries his hardest to go back to sleep, but the feeling of your sleeping body brushing up against his cock keeps him wide awake. He was trying to stay perfectly still until he heard your tiny whisper “Hanta~”... His hips involuntarily thrust, drawing out the most sinful moan from your throat as the head of his dick added friction on your clit that woke you up. You start to move away, embarrassed and hoping to check that he’s still asleep, but Sero’s grip tightens around your thigh and presses you harder onto him.

“Good morning to you, too~... If you needed my help getting off, you could’ve just asked, babygirl~” The lust and sleep clouding his voiced, combined with the steady roll of his hips makes you whimper and tuck your face into his neck.

“Awww so shy~ You were moaning my name earlier. Why don’t we see how loud I can make you, princess?” He speaks lowly as he flips you onto your back, hovering over you.

“I- I... Please.” You breathe wrapping your legs around his waist and stare up at him, wiggling your hips and sliding your hands up his biceps.

“Can I- Can I kiss you? Are you sure you want this? I’ve had feelings for you since before I moved in and I just... I never want to hurt you.” Cupping your cheek and searching your face for any hesitation, Sero starts succumbing to his own insecurities. He never wants to hurt you, and he knows he isn’t the flashy hero some of his friends seem to be... He needs to hear you say it.

“Sero... Yes~. I want you, please kiss me... I feel the same way. Please~...” Upon hearing your confession, Sero slotted his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet, gentle. Breathing each other in felt so right, so natural, and you followed his lead when he slid his hold to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. His hand drifted down, following the curve of your breasts, tracing your sides and resting on the pouch of your tummy. Just as you were starting to feel self conscious, Sero groans and moves to kiss your neck, mumbling “You’re so beautiful, y/n. Fuck, so perfect. You feel so soft, I need you so bad~” The whimper he draws from you when he sucks a deep mark into the column of your throat is absolutely lewd, you can barely believe it came from you. He kisses his way down your body, leaving hickies along your skin and squeezing every inch he can get his hands on. You look down at him, his eyes dark with lust and admiration as he leaves opened mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, making you more needy than you thought possible. He strokes his thumb along your clothed slit and moans at your wetness.

“Fuck- you’re so wet for me, angel. I want to taste you, you’re so cute like this. Let’s take these off, yeah?” He looks to you and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, asking for permission and grinning like an idiot when you lift your hips to help him. Before you can say anything, he’s prying your legs open and diving in, moaning as he laps your slit and sucks your clit into his mouth. You run your fingers through his hair and grip him, pulling him into you and grinding against his face. His groans send vibrations straight to your core, pinning your hips with one arm and sliding two fingers into your dripping cunt.

“M-more!! Oh god, please Sero, just like that- I want more!” You moan so prettily for him, but he wants something more. He releases your clit with a pop and leans up, stilling his fingers inside you and wrapping his free hand around your neck. The pressure and dominance has you clenching around his fingers, and he takes notice.

“You either call me Hanta or Papi, nothing else. You understand? I want you to say my name when you cum.” He commands, and sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh you like that, huh?~ I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Why don’t you tell me what you want, baby?~”

Your brain goes hazy when he leans in and places little love bites on your neck and collarbones. “PAPI~! Yes, I love it! Please fuck me, I want to feel you, I need moreee~” You pant as he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you unbearably empty.

“Oh baby, I’ll fill you up, don’t worry. But first, why don’t you suck my cock?~” He strips himself of his boxers and flips the two of you, pulling you on top of him. He’s so long, just thick enough to stretch you and reach every amazing spot inside of you. The sight of his hard length has you drooling, anticipating feeling the weight of him on your tongue. You give the head a few kitten licks, relishing in the way he groans and twitches in your hand. He laces his fingers at the base of your head and lets you set your own pace, wrapping your plush lips around him. Bobbing your head up and down, running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his dick and swirling it around the head- you love seeing his reactions. The way his breathing increases and his hips buck when you hollow your cheeks. He looks so pretty like this, you can’t help but rub your thighs together for some kind of friction. Luckily, he notices how desperate you’ve gotten and pulls you up to straddle him with one hand still on your hair and the other gripping your hip, calloused fingers digging in and massaging the fat there.

“As much as I want to cum in that perfect little mouth, I think my baby needs to be filled, yeah?” He fists his cock and strokes the head through your wetness, gathering your slick and making you involuntarily grind against him. “Beg for my cock, babygirl~, tell Papi what you want.” The smirk on his face is utterly sinful, teasing you and enjoying the fucked out expression on your beautiful face.

“PLEASE I want your cock, I wanna be full, just fuck me already!!! Please stop teasing me Hantaaa~” Just as you grind your hips down onto him, he thrusts into you, cutting off your pleading with a needy moan. “Ah~ fuck- so full, so full, oh my god! Yes Papi~!”

“Oh shit angel, fuck- you feel so good.” Hanta grabs your hips and helps you slowly fuck yourself on him, “Just like that, baby, just like that. Ride my fucking cock. Fuck- you’re so tight...”

The dirty talk pouring out of Hanta’s mouth, combined with the stretch of his hot length stirring up your insides, you find yourself embarrassingly close to climax already. Your first orgasm hits you like a train, completely knocking the air out of your lungs and causing you to collapse onto Hanta’s chest. He seizes the opportunity to flip the two of you, holding you underneath him and fucking you into the mattress.

“Ah ah ahhhhh~ Hantaaa~ I can’t! I can’t, I just came, it’s too much!!! oh FUCK Papi!!!” You feel the tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation and pleasure.

“Yes you can, babygirl. You’re taking me so well, you’re such a good girl. I know you love it, I can feel your pussy flutter around me. So honest, angel. You’re so perfect like this- fuck.” Hanta grips the back of your thighs and pushes your knees to the bed, hitting even deeper within you. The head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust and makes you scream out, nails digging into his back, and egging him on.

“Come on, mi amor, cum with me. I know you can, I can tell you’re so fucking close... Cum on my cock, that’s right. Cum for me.” His long fingers reach down and rub quick circles on your clit. He leans in to sink his teeth into the junction of your neck and your shoulder, sending you over the edge into your climax. Your vision goes white and you clamp down around him, cunt spasming as you squirt all over his thighs and abs.

“F-fuck!!! That’s so fucking hot~ I’m gonna- Ah~” He fills you to the brim with his sticky release, the warmth spreading through your core and coating your walls. Hanta releases your legs and lays on top of you, sweaty bodies pressed together until he comes down from his high.

“That was so amazing, angel. You were so good for me. Such a pretty baby, all mine...” He pulls back to kiss your temple and rolls over, petting your hair and lightly scratching your back.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me... I always want to be yours.” You giggle, bubbly at his claim on you and still buzzing from your high. You curl up into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him close. “Mine.”

“Mmhmm, all yours.” He breathes a chuckle and places a kiss to your hairline. “I’m glad I can warm you up, lovebug.” He smiles as your breathing evens out, falling asleep with you in his arms.

#sero hanta #sero hanta x reader #bnha x reader #sero hanta fanfic #fanfiction #mha sero #mha smut

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wheresmynaya · 3 years

Text

Hate to Date Ch.7 | Brittana

A/N - And just like that, Lockdown 6.0 is upon us LOL. Good news, more time to write. Bad news, boredom looms. Anyway, thank you to those who have left lovely reviews and/or have gifted me with a coffee through ko-fi. I hope you all know that those emails are some of the first I read when I wake up in the morning - instant happiness! 🥰

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

Being ambushed by parents ends up turning into a trend for Santana when the following weekend Maribel decides to make a spontaneous trip to New York. Apparently there’s some banquet dinner Eddie is attending which Maribel’s accompanying him to.

The invite was extended to Santana as well, but those dinners are always super boring so she blew it off with an excuse about spending time with Brittany instead since their schedules have been so busy.

What she didn’t expect is for Maribel to make an unexpected pit stop at hers and Puck’s place beforehand, hoping to at least say hi to the happy couple.

Problem is – half of said couple isn’t here.

“Mami, we’re just really busy with this assignment,” Santana tries – hoping that it would be enough to deter her mom for awhile considering Brittany isn’t around. “It’s really getting down to the wire, can’t we see you tomorrow?”

“Ay Santana, I’m already on the way,” Maribel replies in a huff. “It’s only a quick visit and we’ll be on our way.”

“Can’t you just like…skip it and continue on your way?”

“I haven’t seen you since New Year’s and I came all this way to see you – “

“You’re not even here for me, you’re here for Eddie.”

Suddenly there’s a pause and Santana wonders if that little comment just got her into some hot water.

“Why don’t you want to see your mother?” Maribel asks instead. “Are you hiding something from me? You and Puck aren’t up to something again, are you? Roping in Brittany?”

Santana’s eyes go big and it feels like she’s just swallowed a handful of sand. Her heart rate’s picking up and she’s struggling to come up with an answer. She feels like she’s got a hot spotlight on her; thank God her mom can’t actually see her right now!

“We’re not,” Santana finally says. “Like I said, Brittany and I are just a little busy with this assignment…but I guess we can take a break for you.”

“That’s my girl,” Maribel praises. “We’ll be around in about twenty minutes.”

Santana gulps, “Great. See you then.”

Once she hangs up, she grabs the nearest pillow and yells into it. The muffled screams have Puck running out of his room so fast that he clips the doorframe with his shoulder. A loud thud echoes throughout Santana’s room as Puck stumbles and looks around frantically.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asks.

“We’ve got a Code Red,” Santana tells him.

His eyes drift down to her lap then back up as he starts to grimace, “Oh. Do you like…need things?”

Santana scrunches her brow but then she realizes what he’s talking about.

“No, not that Code Red,” She explains. “Mom’s on her way. I need to get Brittany over here ASAP!”

“Oh shit!” Puck curses and takes off to the living to start tidying.

The last time Maribel came around for a surprise visit, she basically tore Puck a new one. Long story short, his version of clean isn’t the same as Maribel’s and they spent an entire afternoon together going through the various cleaning products that should be used around the house and what they should be used for.

Meanwhile, Santana rushes to make the call. She just hopes that Brittany won’t give her a hard time for this, hopefully she answers the damn phone!

“Hi?” Brittany answers questioningly.

“Hey,” Santana replies.

“Did you butt dial me or something?”

“What? No.”

“You just – you never call me.”

“Yeah well…I don’t have much time to explain, but I need you to come over like right now.”

“Uhh, I’m kind of in the middle of something.“

“Brittany, please,” Santana begs. “My mom’s on her way over and she’s fully expecting you to be here too.”

“Oh! Okay, yeah. Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Because I’m freaking out, that’s why!”

“Okay, well don’t freak out. It’ll be fine. How much time do I have?”

“Not much.”

“Great. Thanks for the warning.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “Look, it took me by surprise too.”

“Alright well, find your cool. We can’t have her suspecting anything’s up.”

Santana nods, already feeling a little calmer. “Just hurry, okay?”

“I’m on my way now. Don’t worry.”

When Maribel comes knocking on Santana’s door, the brunette loses all cool once again because Brittany’s still nowhere in sight. Santana’s looking at Puck, but he has no idea what to do either. Maybe they can stall until she gets here, but how? Maribel would totally think something’s up if they refuse to let her inside!

“Just let her in?” Puck whispers, “We can say Britt went to pick up our take-out?”

“And further confirm that I don’t fucking cook here? No way.”

“Well, what else can we do?”

“I don’t kn –“

“Santana?” Maribel calls out from the hall after another knock. “Hello?”

Puck’s eyes go wide, “She can hear us.”

“No shit, she knows I’m home.”

“Okay, okay. I’m thinking, fuck! Why am I so stressed out?”

Santana and Puck go back and forth trying to come up with some way to stall, but it’s impossible under the pressure.

“I think we have to let her in,” Santana tells Puck in a grave tone.

Puck looks at her uneasily, “I think so too.”

After checking her phone once more for an update from Brittany – there isn’t one – Santana goes to let Maribel and Eddie in. They’re both dressed to the nines, must be a fancy banquet dinner.

“Hi!” Santana greets, attempting to mask her uneasiness.

She’s quickly embraced in a motherly hug while Puck compliments his coach on his sick suit.

“How are you, mija?” Maribel asks as she cups Santana’s cheek. “You’re looking a little pale.”

“Am I?” Santana feels the nerves rattling within her. Where the hell is Brittany?!

“Yes,” Maribel looks her over. “You’re not getting sick are you?”

Santana swallows dryly, “Just tired.”

“Because exams are coming up,” Puck clarifies.

“That’s right,” Santana nods. “Lots of studying to do if I want to ace them.”

Maribel nods, seemingly pleased by Santana’s work ethic.

“Yeah, plus her and Britt have also been super busy with this assignment they’re doing together,” Puck adds. “It’s a lot.”

“Ah yes,” Maribel looks around. “Where is Brittany?”

Santana clenches her jaw and looks to Puck. There’s a guilty smile on his face as he secretly mouths out a sorry. Still though, she has to think on her feet.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Santana replies. It’s not her best work, but it was the first thing she thought of. Maybe they can work with it?

“Yeah, I think she had a bad salad for lunch,” Puck tries again.

Santana glares at him and mouths a shut up that goes unnoticed by Maribel and Eddie.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” Maribel frowns.

“Those salads are always a hit or miss,” Eddie confirms. “I try to stay away from them.”

“Don’t listen to Puck. It’s nothing like that,” Santana assures them. “Anyway, exam prep; super intense, long nights, tedious studying. I’m so ready for it to be over.”

Maribel looks apologetically at her, “Don’t work too hard.”

“That’s not what you taught me,” Santana quips.

“I know,” Maribel smiles. “I hope you’re at least wearing your glasses when you’re meant to. You know what all that reading can do to your eyes.”

“I am…”

“And rest, you still need it,” Maribel insists. “A tired mind won’t retain a thing.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell her.”

The four swivel around to find Brittany coming out of Santana’s bedroom. Her cheeks are a little pink – probably from the run over – but she’s her usual cool and collected self as she saunters over.

Santana’s never felt so relieved to see the girl! Question is though, how the hell did she pull off such an entrance?

“Brittany! Hi,” Maribel greets happily. “Are you feeling okay?”

There’s a glimpse of confusion as Brittany looks to Santana for an explanation.

“Mami, I told you she’s not sick. She was only in the bedroom to finish up a call with her mom,” Santana lies.

“Yeah. That was my bad, Mama Lopez,” Puck speaks up.

“Right,” Brittany quickly catches on. “Just my daily phone call with mom. Sorry about that, we can get carried away.”

“Oh don’t be,” Maribel smiles then glances to Santana. “Where’s my daily phone call?”

Santana fights the eye roll, “I’m clearly not as great as Brittany.”

“Now that’s a first,” Brittany smirks as she curls her arm around Santana. “I think you’re plenty great though.”

Santana finds herself blushing, “Thanks.”

There’s another pleased smile on Maribel’s face as she admires the couple. It’s a look Santana has rarely seen when it comes to her past partners and it makes her chest fill with pride. Even months later, her and Brittany still got it!

“Well, as promised this is only a quick visit,” Maribel tells them. “We really need to get going now, but while I’ve got you here: when are you coming home for a visit?”

Santana and Brittany exchange a look. They weren’t looking to make a visit for another few weeks, at least until after Spring Break. Free time is hard to come by now that they’re getting closer to the end of the semester.

“You know Abuela would like to see you both again,” Maribel adds.

Santana’s brows rise, “Would she now?”

“I think she’s warming up to things,” Maribel says vaguely but Santana gets it. “Wouldn’t hurt to come see her though. You know seeing pictures of you two together on Facebook has become a highlight for her.”

“Told you we’re cute,” Brittany jokes as she hugs Santana to her side.

“I should’ve known, she likes every single one them,” Santana quips.

“She wants to spend time with you,” Maribel explains and looks to Brittany. “She wants to spend time with the both of you.”

Santana quirks a brow at that, “Really? Has something changed?”

Maribel only shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her for yourself.”

Santana and Brittany glance at each other, both suddenly curious about Abuela’s change of heart.

“How about you come down for Spring Break?” Maribel suggests.

“Uhhh,” Santana stammers as she looks to Brittany, “We’re going to have to talk about it first. Brittany might have to – “

“Spring Break is fine with me,” Brittany shrugs.

“I thought you were planning on going home?” Santana lies – trying to get Brittany to catch on. “Spend time with your family?”

The blonde only shakes her head, “Nope. I’d rather stay here with you.”

Santana feels herself deflate; usually Spring Break is her time to finally let loose but she guesses there’s not much else she could get up to since she’s fake dating Brittany. She might as well just use the time to reinforce that she’s capable of being in a long term relationship.

By then, her and Brittany would be together for four months – that’s the longest relationship yet! Surely, that’ll have to mean something to her family.

“Well sure,” Santana sighs in defeat. “I can’t imagine spending my Spring break any other way than by returning to Lima.”

Maribel gives her a gleaming grin, “Perfect.”

Once Maribel and Eddie head off to their banquet, Santana and Brittany collapse together on the couch. Puck hands them both a beer before cracking one open for himself and taking a seat opposite them.

“Way to sell it,” Puck raises his bottle. “Great work! It was cool to see you two in action like that. I can see why everyone eats this shit up. You’re pretty believable.”

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” Santana quips.

“Looks like I came right on time too,” Brittany says.

“Yeah about that,” Santana looks to Brittany. “How the hell did you get into my room?”

“The window?” Brittany shrugs. “I’m surprised it wasn’t locked.

Santana’s eyes go wide, “You climbed through the window?”

“Well yeah, how else would I have gotten in? Through the vent?” Brittany jokes.

“Good thing we’re on the first floor,” Puck chuckles.

Brittany nods and clinks her bottle with his. Meanwhile Santana just stares at the blonde with her jaw slack. Not only did she run over here, she went through the effort of climbing through the window too!

The girl is crazy.

Santana doubts she would’ve gone to the same extent. No way she’d try getting her ass through a window, that’s just too much. But still, she supposes some thanking is in order.

“Well, I appreciate you going through all that,” Santana says bashfully. “I didn’t expect my mom to just pop up like that so…thanks for coming here so quickly.”

There’s a half-smirk on Brittany’s face and Santana anticipates her poking fun at how Santana’s actually thanking her for something, but it doesn’t come. Brittany just continues smiling as she clinks her bottle with Santana’s.

“That’s what fake girlfriends are for,” She tells her.

Over the following days, Santana and Brittany often run into each other at the library. It’s not Santana’s preferred place to study but it’s hard for her to concentrate sometimes with Puck around.

Although Santana and Brittany are in the same place, they often sit separately.

Brittany keeps to her lone table in the study area while Santana sits somewhere in the upper level because she likes the view of the exit. It’s kind of like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, that tunnel being the designated hour she makes herself study.

However, on one particular day all of the tables in the upper level are occupied. Santana finds herself scowling at the randoms before making her way down to the level beneath – where the study area is kept.

Like always, Brittany’s sitting alone near the back and Santana finds herself walking over to her without a second thought. She wasn’t planning on sharing the table with her, just maybe say hi and leave her be, but as Santana approaches the table she finds something unexpected there:

Spanish for Dummies

Intrigued, Santana’s eyes roam the table and find all sorts of similar books on the Spanish language mixed in with Brittany’s actual coursework. Then Santana takes a peek at Brittany’s laptop, trying to figure out what has her so consumed that she’s yet to notice her standing there.

There’s a little green owl going over conjugations – Spanish conjugations – and Santana watches as Brittany jots down notes as she mouths whatever words she hears through her headphones. Santana’s completely dumbfounded and pulls up a chair, the motion finally causes Brittany to jolt and turn.

Blue eyes spark with surprise before the headphones quickly come off. The girl looks like she’s just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but Santana can’t help the fascination.

“Santana!” Brittany gasps. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“It’s the library,” She answers simply. “I’m here to study.”

“Oh, duh. Of cour – “

“Are you teaching yourself Spanish?” Santana interrupts.

Brittany looks from her screen to the books on the table to Santana. She seems a little timid as she minimizes the program on her laptop. Santana wonders if she’s going to attempt to lie, but there’s too much evidence against her. There’s no way she could convince Santana that she’s doing otherwise.

“Yeah,” Brittany admits with a nervous laugh. “I am.”

Santana quirks her brow, “What are you doing that for? Surely not for fun?”

Brittany shrugs, “The shows on Univision are great but I’m tired of reading subtitles.”

“Really?” Santana doesn’t seem convinced. “That’s like…a lot of work. Besides, I thought nerds like to read?”

Brittany gives her an unimpressed look, “Well…I also figured that if I knew a little Spanish then it’ll give Abuela and I something to bond over. I remember your aunts mentioning this one show she likes so I’ve kind of been binging it.”

“You’ve been binging telenovelas?” Santana asks in disbelief.

“Well yeah, the drama is addicting.”

“Oh wow,” Santana sits back. “So you’re serious about this?”

“Aren’t you?” Brittany replies.

“Yeah, but this is a new level.”

“Don’t you want to be as convincing as you can be?”

“There’s convincing and then there’s this,” Santana jokes. “Your over-achiever tendencies are showing again.”

“You jealous?” Brittany fires back. “I know how much you love it when your mom compares us.”

“I’m not jealous,” Santana turns up her nose.

Brittany smirks, “Just checking. Afterall, this whole thing was your idea.”

“Technically it was Puck’s.”

“Whatever,” Brittany says. “I’m going to do all that I can to make this work because I’m committed. You continue doing…whatever it is that you do.”

Santana tenses her jaw at the jab. It reminds her of the game they played before– the constant one-upping of each other – and she wonders if they’re still playing it.

She thinks about how she accidentally introduced herself to Brittany’s parents as her girlfriend. She remembers how Brittany now has to keep up this façade with them too thanks to the slip-up. She thinks about who this Artie guy is and why Brittany’s parents were wondering where he went.

But most importantly, she thinks about how underwhelming she is as a girlfriend.

She’s nothing like Brittany; she isn’t kind and sweet and she isn’t someone people take home to meet their parents. Santana’s the girl that helps you get over your ex, she’s the one college girls experiment with, she’s down for one night stands, down for no-strings-attached kind of hook ups – she’s not actual girlfriend material.

And oddly enough, she kind of feels bad that Brittany’s stuck with her for the time being. This fake relationship thing wasn’t meant to go beyond convincing Maribel, but that’s exactly what’s happened now thanks to her big mouth.

“You really don’t have to do this, you know,” Santana says after the guilt starts setting in.

“I want to,” Brittany tells her.

Santana sighs; yet another reason why they’re so different.

“Learning a language just to get Abuela to like you?” Santana explains. “Don’t you think that’s kind of going overboard?”

“Not really. It’s kind of fun.”

“Fun?”

“Well yeah, I’ve always wanted to learn another language,” Brittany replies. “Why not start now? Plus I meant what I said about the subtitles thing. It would be so much easier not having to read.”

Santana chuckles as she shakes her head, “How do you find the time? I’m swamped with studying and assignments and cheer practice. Here you are learning another language for fun.”

“I kind of have a photographic memory.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “Of course you do.”

“I’m joking,” Brittany smirks. “I have a bunch of techniques that help cut down on the amount of time you’re actually studying so you don’t spend all your time doing it. I could…teach you some if you want?”

Santana lifts her chin, “I don’t need a tutor.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Brittany laughs. “Why are you always so quick to be on the defense?”

Santana crosses her arms and looks away, “I’m not.”

“Uh-huh,” Brittany grins. “I’ve got a study session with Puck on Thursday. I think it’s actually going to be at your place. We can not share study tips then if you want?”

Santana lets the offer roll around in her head but she doesn’t want to seem too eager.

“I might be around, depends if practice lets out on time.”

“Okay,” Brittany nods then looks at her laptop screen before glancing back at Santana who has yet to move. “So are you sitting with me now or…?”

“Oh!” Santana jolts to stand up. She gathers her bag from the ground and looks around for an empty table, but they’re all occupied.

“I’m not kicking you out, you know,” Brittany tells her without looking away from the screen. “You can stay if you’d like.”

Santana looks around indecisively. She’d rather study alone, but that doesn’t seem to be an option at the moment. She can’t go home either with Puck around, so she guesses staying with Brittany is the next best thing.

“Okay,” Santana replies. “I’ll stay.”

“I’ll clear some space for you,” Brittany says.

Santana moves to the opposite end of the table while Brittany gathers her things in order for Santana to have more room on the table for hers. They sit silently like that working on their respective things for awhile, getting lost in their work.

Brittany ends up leaving the table for a moment and Santana barely notices until she’s placing a coffee in front of her.

“Oh thanks,” Santana smiles at the unexpected gesture.

Brittany doesn’t say anything, just returns the smile as she sits back down.

Another moment later when Santana gets peckish, she pulls out a bag of trail mix. She barely gives it a second thought when she places it between them so that Brittany can have some too if she wants.

When Thursday comes around, Santana ends up leaving cheer practice on time for once. She’s quick to get out of there so that she can wash up and change out of her uniform before Brittany arrives, but she finds that the blonde is already there by the time she gets home.

“What up, Lopez!” Puck calls out to her as he sits with Brittany at their tiny dining table.

Brittany looks up too, her eyes moving from their work to Santana who lingers by the front door. There’s a small smile that begins to curl her lips and Santana finds herself returning it with her own little grin.

“Hi,” She greets as she kicks of her tennis shoes. It was meant for Puck but it seems that it’s directed at Brittany.

“Hey,” Brittany replies.

“How was practice?” Puck asks, just now lifting his head from the work before him.

“Got bumped up to flyer,” Santana says casually although it’s pretty exciting news. She comes around to the kitchen for a drink, “Erica apparently has brittle bones from what Coach says.”

“No way!” Puck cheers, “That’s so awesome!”

“What’s a flyer?” Brittany asks, looking between the two.

“The girls that do stunts in the air,” Santana answers.

“Oh,” Brittany’s brows rise. “That’s…isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

“You worried about me?” Santana teases as she comes around to sit on the stool next to them. She crosses her legs, her cheer skirt hugging her thighs tightly. “Didn’t you say cheer was boring?”

Puck grins as he looks to Brittany for a rebuttal, but the blonde looks stumped.

Actually, the blonde looks distracted.

When Santana realizes that she’s staring at her legs, it’s like a personal victory for her. It was only a matter of time before the skirt wins!

Puck notices the distraction too and glances between his friends, a knowing smirk starting to form.

“Anyway,” Santana says as she finishes off her glass of water.

The sound of her voice breaks Brittany from her trance, but blue eyes are dark with something Santana’s familiar with but has yet to see on her. It makes her smirk; she’s missed having that kind of power over someone. It’s the sexual magnetism, it never fails her.

“Might hit the shower now,” Santana adds before looking to Brittany. “You going to be here much longer?”

Brittany nods, “Yeah. I only got here a little before you did.”

“Okay,” Santana can’t help the flirtatious tone now that she knows she’s got Brittany wrapped around her finger. The teasing is the most fun she’s had in awhile! “Maybe you can show me some things once you’re done with him?”

Brittany gulps, “Yeah sure.”

Puck notices what Santana’s doing and interrupts, “Uh…what’s happening right now?”

“Can it, Puckerman,” Santana waves off although her smile remains devilish. “What’s the point of having a fake girlfriend if I can’t fake flirt with them too?”

Brittany’s face goes a little red as she finally snaps back to reality.

“You call that flirting?” Brittany jokes.

“Fake flirting.”

Brittany shakes her head as she smirks, “I still don’t understand how you pick up any girls.”

“Judging by the look that’s been on your face since I walked in, I think you do.”

Puck looks back and forth between the two again like he’s watching an intense tennis match.

“How about I order a pizza for later?” He suggests in attempt to break up the bickering before it escalates.

“Sounds good,” Santana says without taking her eyes off Brittany.

“Yeah,” Brittany nods. “Sounds awesome.”

“Cool,” Puck replies and looks to Santana. “Go shower now. You’re distracting everyone.”

“She’s not distracting me,” Brittany said pointedly.

Santana quirks her brow and smirks, “Keep telling yourself that, Britt-Britt.”

She lets her hips sway in that well-practiced way as she leaves the room. She doesn’t have to look to know that Brittany’s yet to stop staring and she struggles to hold back the laughter as she gets ready for a shower.

Despite the teasing game she played earlier, Santana sits in Puck’s place at the tiny dining table across from Brittany with a scowl on her face. This studying thing? She’s had enough of it.

“This is pointless. Education is pointless. I’m gonna become a stripper instead,” Santana huffs.

“You'd probably make so much money!” Puck jokes from his place on the couch.

“Probably? Please,” Santana lifts her chin. “I'd make it rain every night!”

Puck laughs and throws his arm over the back of the couch to look at the pair.

“What do you think, Britt?” Puck presses with a smirk. “Think Santana would make it rain?”

Santana smirks too and looks to Brittany for answer.

“I think…I'm kind of hungry,” Brittany says. “How far away is the pizza?”

Santana’s smirk falls at the way Brittany deflects the question. Since Santana’s return, Brittany’s been a little quieter. Santana figured she’s just stuck in study mode and that she’d loosen up eventually, but she’s still waiting.

“I should probably head over now actually,” Puck realizes after checking his phone.

“Take me with you,” Santana jokes. “I think my brain is turning to mush.”

Brittany sighs, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You know that’s a struggle for me.”

“True,” Brittany jokes. “Hey, if we finish this chapter tonight I’ll let you use my pretty pens to take notes?”

"Tempting, but I don't need your pretty pens,” Santana says flatly. She rests back in her chair and stares at the ceiling. “What I need is alcohol and several orgasms. I clearly didn't think this fake dating thing through. I've never been so sexually deprived.”

Puck goes to grab his keys, “And on that note – I’ll be back in a few.”

Meanwhile, Brittany just snickers to herself but she isn’t laughing with Santana and it has the brunette frowning.

“What?” Santana questions as Puck leaves.

Brittany shakes her head, “It must be so hard for you to keep it in your pants for once.”

“You have no idea. Who knew that the last time would be the last time. I sure didn’t!”

Brittany shakes her head again and goes back to her work. It makes Santana feel a little on edge and straightens up in her chair.

“I'm obviously joking,” Santana adds and it makes Brittany look up. “What's it to you if I wasn't though?”

“What are you talking about?” Brittany asks.

“Your interest in my sex life.”

Brittany scoffs and looks back to her work, “I'd hardly call it an interest.”

Santana folds her arms across her chest, “So you're secretly some kind of prude?”

“It's not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Brittany sighs and looks up at her again, “Why are we even talking about this?”

Santana notices the change in her tone and perks up. She abandons her work all together in favor of leaning in.

“Because it's way more interesting?” Santana presses. “I know you're trying to deflect, you might as well just answer. If not, I'll assume the reason it gets your panties all in a twist is because you're secretly jealous.”

“I'm definitely not jealous.”

“So it’s the other option,” Santana says. “You’re a prude.”

“No!” Brittany huffs. She softens when she realizes she raised her voice. There’s a timidness to her when she explains, “I just, I guess I believe in developing the feelings part first before the physical happens.”

Santana softens too but for a different reason. It’s more so confusion than anything else.

"Why?” She asks.

“Because with feelings it's better,” Brittany says simply.

“Are you kidding?” Santana quips. “It’s better when it doesn’t involve feelings. I think it’s better when it doesn’t involve eye contact.”

“Wow. Seriously?” Brittany looks at her sympathetically. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. God, who hurt you?”

Santana didn’t expect her comment to strike a nerve. The memory of short blonde hair and a cunning smile sneaks its way past Santana’s defenses as she mutters, “One guess.”

Brittany looks at her curiously before something clicks, “Oh. The girl.”

Santana doesn’t like where this is going and pushes away the overwhelming feelings that beg to bust through. She walls herself up, holds her chin high and swallows back the lump.

“Yeah well,” Santana brushes off. “I think it's pretty unrealistic to go out there thinking every potential lay has to be relationship material first. Where's the fun in that?”

Brittany continues to eye her like she’s wounded and Santana hates it.

“The fun part is getting to know someone first so when it does happen,” Brittany pauses as she bites her lip. “It's meaningful.”

Santana averts her eyes, because staring into Brittany’s makes her feel far too exposed. Instead she retreats in on herself to place she’s comfortable, she takes the attention off of her.

“Gross. Who knew you were such a hopeless romantic,” Santana jokes.

Brittany sighs through a soft smile, “Call me old fashioned I guess.”

“Super old fashioned,” Santana quips. “Like, are you telling me you've never had a steamy quickie with a random? Everybody's got one.”

Brittany looks away and as she smirks, “Of course I have. I’m not that innocent.”

Santana perks up, “Really? Miss Goodie Two Shoes getting down and dirty without before being properly courted? God, I want details…”

Brittany snickers, “Not happening.”

“What?” Santana shifts in her seat excitedly. “Come on, what's a little girl talk between friends or are you the type that doesn’t kiss and tell because lame.”

Brittany looks up at her and smirks, “You saying we're friends?”

“Will it get you talking?”

Brittany laughs, “We should get back to work now. You've derailed us for long enough.”

“Come on, Britt-Britt,” Santana coos jokingly. “We've been at it for hours. I'm burnt out, sober and in dire need of sex.”

“None of that is my problem.”

“Sure it is,” Santana jokes. “The least you can do is tell me a couple of your kinky stories to get me through the night.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Brittany gives her a look, but Santana just bats her eyelashes. It makes Brittany laugh and she softens once again.

“Actually, I might be able to help you out.”

Santana sits straighter, “It was only a matter of time…”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “Get over yourself. Not every girl on campus wants you, including me.”

Santana laughs, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Britt-Britt.”

“Anyway,” Brittany continues, “I'm talking about a swanky party – a ball even.”

“A ball, you say?” Santana’s interest is piqued.

“Totally.”

“You've got my attention…”

“Well, there’s going to be an open bar, free food, an excuse to dress up and let loose. That ticks off two out of three on your list.”

Santana quirks a brow, “And the catch?”

“No catch.”

“There's gotta be a catch.”

“Okay fine,” Brittany slumps. “It's the Brainiacs’ Ball.”

“The what?” Santana deadpans.

“The Brainiacs’ Ball,” Brittany clarifies. “It's open to all the academic decathlon clubs across the city, this year we’re hosting. The team with the highest winning percentage is named and also the award for Most Brilliant Brainiac is given out. It's the biggest night for the club.”

“Oh, hell no,” Santana chuckles. “There’s not enough free alcohol in the world to get me to go to that. Count me out.”

Brittany starts to frown, “What? Why?”

Santana shakes her head, “One of your matches was enough. I'm not going to a party where I have to be surrounded by all of you at once.”

“It won't be that bad,” Brittany sighs. “It's a night for celebrating. No trivia unless you count the bad puns you might hear.”

“I've seen the guys on your team,” Santana explains. “I can't be liable for the feelings I'd definitely hurt if I were to be around them. I’d be triggered by pocket protector.”

“But you'll mostly be with me,” Brittany tries.

“That doesn’t really help your case.”

Brittany gives her a look, “Well, I kind of need you to go.”

“You need me to go?”

“Well yeah, I don't want to be the only one there without a date,” Brittany reasons. “Plus wouldn't it be suspicious if you didn't go considering we're a thing?”

Santana lets out a laugh, thinking that she’s finally caught on.

“So that it explains it,” She says.

“Explains what?”

“The coffee the other day, sharing study tips, being here,” Santana goes on, “You’ve been setting yourself up to ask me to your dumb ball.”

Brittany tenses, “'First of all, it's not dumb.”

“Sorry. I should've said nerdy,” Santana clarifies.

“I wasn’t doing those things for this,” Brittany tells her. “I was… I did them to be nice. We don’t always have to be at each other. It doesn’t always have to be a competition.”

Santana shakes her head as she gets to thinking. She knows Brittany’s cunning too, she knows that she can play games so who’s to say she wasn’t playing this time?

“I'm not going,” Santana replies. “You can tell people I'm sick or something.”

Brittany lets out a bitter laugh, “Right. So this relationship thing only works when it's in your favor?”

Santana frowns at the harshness of Brittany’s tone, something that doesn’t feel right coming from the blonde.

“What are you talking about?” Santana huffs. “That’s not – “

“We always do what you want,” Brittany interrupts. “Whatever makes you look good but this one time I ask you for something and it's just a flat out no?”

Brittany’s face has gone a little red and Santana’s further surprised – she didn’t think it was this big of a deal. She doesn’t grasp why Brittany’s so worked up all of sudden. Why would she want someone there with her if they didn’t want to be there in the first place?

“Look, it's better if I don't go because if one dork in clunky black glasses wearing suspenders and a hideous bowtie crosses paths with me I won't be able to contain myself,” Santana argues. “I'll end up hurting someone's feelings and you said it yourself, it's a night for celebration.”

Brittany looks at her like she’s hit a new low. Hell, maybe she just did.

“You're unbelievable,” Brittany huffs as she stands and starts gathering her things.

“What?” Santana watches her with a sudden ache in her chest. “You’re leaving?”

“Clearly,” Brittany mutters. “I can’t be around you right now.”

“All because I don’t want to go?”

Brittany shakes her head, another bitter laugh escaping her.

“No,” She says gravely. “It’s because you’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met.”

Santana tenses at the way her words drip with disdain, but at the same time it puts her on the defense.

“Well sorry that I’m not like you,” Santana argues. “Sorry I can’t just slip into character with ease and be your perfect fake girlfriend whenever you want. Sorry I’m not on all the time like you are.”

Brittany just stares at her for a moment, studying Santana’s face before she speaks again.

“Just when I think I’ve figured you out,” Brittany continues. “Just when I think you’re actually a half-decent person and that maybe beneath this prickly exterior of yours, there’s actually something – someone – deserving of…of a friend you go and prove to me that I’m wrong.”

Santana slumps back in her chair, dejected and defeated.

Even if Brittany didn’t physical hit her, those words sure did. She can’t even speak as she watches Brittany gather the last of her things and storm out. What’s worse is that she swears she sees blue eyes tinging red just before she turns away.

Santana slaps her hand at the table when the door slams shut behind Brittany. She instantly feels the sting of wood on her open palm.

Why? Why does she always have to screw things up like this?

Puck comes through the door just a minute later, looking confused as well.

“So I just passed Britt in the hall,” He says hesitantly.

“Yeah, she left.”

Puck slowly closes the door behind him, “Why?”

“Because,” Santana lets out a long puff of air. She feels the lump forming again in her throat, strange and unwelcome. “Because I’m an idiot.”

“Dude,” His face falls. “Please tell me you didn’t try to make a move on her. The games earlier were cute and all but – “

“No,” Santana quickly answers. “I didn’t do that.”

“Then what happened?” Puck asks. “She looked really upset.”

Santana presses her lips tightly together, she’s almost ashamed to admit the truth.

“She wanted me to go to some ball with her,” Santana says dismissively. “I told her no.”

“You told her no?” Puck quirks a brow.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Puck frowns. “After all the stuff she’s done for you, you can’t?”

“Look, I can see where I fucked up okay?” Santana snaps. “I don’t need you adding to it.”

Puck shakes his head as he backs off. “You really are an idiot.”

Santana agrees but she doesn’t tell him that.

“You know it’s not a good idea,” Santana tries convincing him. “It’ll be nothing but those academic decathlon nerds and not just the ones from Brittany’s team. It’ll be like ten times that! They’ll be from all over the city and you know how I am around the general public especially when I’m provoked. I could screw up and expose us both. It’s too risky.”

Puck doesn’t say anything, just listens to her excuses.

“I can’t do it,” Santana tells him with finality. “I can’t. Brittany might be pissed at me right now, but she’ll see it’s for the best. I’d just ruin her night because I don’t know how to act anyway. She’ll come around, she has to.”

“Sure Santana,” Puck dismisses and goes to flip open the pizza box. “So…does this mean I can have her pizza too?”

Santana just shakes her head, “Shut up.”

#Hate to Date #Brittana #Brittana Fanfiction #Enemies to Lovers #fake dating au

64 notes · View notes

justanotherblonde23 · 4 years

Text

An Unexpected Surprise - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: So with some encouraging from my friends, I decided to post my writing! I know that technically we don’t know anything about Marcus Moreno, but that superhero dad has been taking up space in my mind rent free all week. I tagged people that I know wanted to read this and a few that I thought might enjoy it. Please let me know what you think! -Kat

Content Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), P in V

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @zeldasayer @hdlynnslibrary @jollyrancher87 @bisexual-space-slut @woakiees @scribbledghost @softpedropascal @catfishingmorales

Marcus trudged into the house, it was at least 2 in the morning, and he was absolutely exhausted. He was always exhausted these days; his age was catching up to him. He may be a part of the Heroics, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting older. He was balancing heroism, kids, a spouse, and trying to give them some semblance of a normal life. He was ready to retire, be involved in every aspect of the kids’ lives, and see his wife in more than just the middle of the night and before leaving for work. He had given enough of his life to the service of the world; now, it was about time to provide all of himself to his family. Missy, his eldest, was already 11 and getting older every single day. Jules, the baby of the family, was about to turn 5, just about to leave the toddler years behind her. He felt as if he had missed so much of their lives; he didn’t want to miss anymore.

Most of the house lights had been turned off, signaling that most of the inhabitants were fast asleep. He hoped that at least he could get a kiss or two from the woman he loved. Maybe she would still be awake. He made his way up the stairs, checking the kids’ rooms. He planted soft kisses on their foreheads, smiling at their serene expressions. What beautiful little girls he had, he was the luckiest father in the world.

He frowned, opening the door to the master bedroom; the soft glow of artificial light bathed the room in a yellow haze. There she was, his love, sitting in the middle of the bed, clearly wide awake, wearing her glasses and frowning at the hologram in front of her. Someone was working even later than Marcus himself. He took in her form; she still hadn’t noticed him quite yet. She was wearing a silky nightie that hit her upper thigh and a matching robe loosely tied around her. His cock stirred in his pants. Even as spent as he was from the day, the view in front of him made him want to take her to bed and fuck her senseless.

“Dr. Moreno, hard at work, I see,” he teased.

Her eyes shot up, smirking at him. I’m not quite Dr. Moreno yet, Marcus. You’d have to marry me first,” she teased.

“We had a ceremony-” he started.

“And someone still hasn’t mailed the marriage certificate, even though it’s been two months. All you gotta do is bring it to the post office, baby. I’d do it myself, but somebody insisted that he’d be the one to do it.”

Marcus groaned, falling onto the bed beside his wife (that’s what she was to him, even if he didn’t mail the marriage certificate yet). He heard some shuffling and a command for her AI system to file the holograms working on for the night. He’d lived with her for four years now, and he still hadn’t gotten used to all her tech. If he was a hero in name, she was the genius behind every piece of technology in his arsenal, as well as all of the other members of the Heroics. Her superpower was her mind, that gorgeous, intricate, genius mind of hers. Her ability to retain information, learn, critically think, and create was almost impossible to fathom truly. At 33, she had twelve doctorates in various fields, including engineering, physics, nanotechnology, and art history. Her thirst for knowledge and eagerness to invent was unparalleled, even among other enhanced individuals. He would never stop singing her praises; she was a wonder.

“Marcus, baby, do you wanna shower and go to bed? It’s late.”

He sighed, starting to relax into the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair. “Baby, if you keep that up, I’m gonna fall asleep right here and now. I took a shower at HQ before I left, so I’m good.” He opened his eyes when her fingers stilled, looking up at the beautiful woman with the soft smile leaning over him.

“Do you think you can stay up for a little bit longer, honey? I have a surprise for you.”

He sat up, scooting up against the headboard, kicking off his shoes. He felt wide awake now. His wife wasn’t typically one for surprises on any old day. He wracked his mind, trying to make sure that he hadn’t missed her birthday, their dating anniversary, or any other consequential, momentous occasion.

“I didn’t forget a special day, did I? Fuck, amor. I’m so sorry if I did. I’ve been spread so damn thin since the wedding; I’ve been running around like a madman.”

She placed a tiny cream-colored box in his hands, his wife sitting right in front of him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You didn’t miss anything, Marcus, just open the box. You’ll like it, I promise.”

He nodded, pulling at the perfect bow holding the box closed, carefully opening the lid. For a minute, he just stared at the contents of the box, his eyes wide with shock. Ever so slowly, he picked up a pair of teeny baby booties, placing them in his large palm. He took the second item out, a pregnancy test that digitally read, PREGNANT. His hands began to shake; tears began to overflow, tracking down his cheeks. He looked up, his gaze locked on the woman in front of him.

“Sweetheart, are we-? Are you-? We’re- we’re having a baby?” he managed to choke out.

There was one more item in the box, at the bottom, an ultrasound labeled Baby Moreno. He studied the picture intently, his thumb moving over the little blob on the paper. That was his baby, their baby. They were having a baby.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, “we’re having a baby!”

A giggle made him raise his eyes once again. “That’s what I said, too. I’m about ten weeks along now. You’re going to be a daddy of three, Marcus Moreno.”

He scooped up everything in his lap, dumping it on the nightstand. He quickly grabbed his wife, flipping her so that she was under him. He covered her face in kisses, whispering how beautiful she was, how she was so loved, so treasured, so cherished. How their baby was made of nothing but love, how they were precious cargo, and how he would protect both of them every single day of his life. He kissed down her jaw, down her neck, eliciting breathy moans from the woman underneath him. His kisses went lower and lower until he reached her belly, pulling her nightie up around her waist so that he could get to her bare stomach. He planted dozens of kisses all over her belly, in awe of the life growing in there.

“Hey baby, it’s your daddy,” he cooed softly. “Your mommy and I already love you, little one, and you’ll have two big sisters that I just know will love you too. I can’t wait for you to be here, little baby. I promise I’ll be here for you.”

He looked adoringly at the mother of his youngest child, grinning as if his world had been made complete, and in all honesty, it had been. This baby, this tiny little one growing inside of the woman that he loved most, filled a hole in his heart that he hadn’t even been aware of.

He bit down on his lower lip, smirking while ever so slowly pulling off her panties. He would lavish the woman he loved with every ounce of devotion, adoration, and love he had to offer. A breathless Oh please, Marcus was all he needed to motivate him to continue. He opened her legs up, giving him access to her slit, wet and wanting. He groaned, the sight making his mouth water. If he had it his way, Marcus could spend hours between her thighs. Two fingers lightly toyed with her slit, moving up and down, collecting her slick.

“Look at you, baby, so wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you. If this is what pregnancy does to you, amor, I might have to start keeping better work hours so I can spend my time between your thighs.”

He could see her hips try to follow his fingers, desperate for more than he was giving her. “Marcus, don’t tease, please,” she whined. He chuckled, easily giving in to her pleas. He couldn’t say no to her, not tonight.

He buried his head between her legs, tongue coming out to lick a broad strip all the way to the top of her slit, his nose nudging her clit. She tasted like heaven, making him moan into her core, sending pleasurable shivers up her spine. He speared his tongue into her, getting as deep as he could, fucking her pussy with his tongue while her fingers tangled themselves in his curls. He kept exploring her folds with his tongue, hitting all the spots he knew would make her see stars.

He easily pushed in two fingers, causing her to buck her hips up, matching his pace. He focused his tongue on her clit, alternating between drawing lazy circles and sucking her into his mouth. His fingers hit that sweet spot inside her with every thrust, bringing her closer and closer to her release. Before he knew it, she was cumming around his fingers, squeezing him tight and pulling him deeper. His mouth flooded with the taste that was uniquely hers, prompting him to moan. He could feel himself rock hard in his pants, leaking with his arousal.

He crawled off the bed, swiftly ridding himself of his clothes, placing his glasses safely on the nightstand. He grabbed her glasses as well, placing them next to his own. She had shrugged off her robe and nightie, languidly watching him, her eyes blown wide with desire.

“Marcus, I need you inside of me,” she begged. His large cock rested heavy against his stomach, tip red and leaking. The thought of him inside of her was almost too much. She needed him, and she needed him right now.

He settled over her, catching her lips in a deep, earth-shattering kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, letting her taste herself. Marcus was intoxicating, enthralling, and all she wanted was more. Finally, they broke apart, panting slightly.

“Dr. Moreno, my lovely wife, mother of my child, let me make love to you. Let me show you how happy you make me, sweetheart. I want to make you touch the sky,” he whispered into her ear.

She beamed at him, cradling his cheek gently. “Yes, baby, I’m all yours.” He leaned back in, catching her into another searing kiss. He worked his length up and down her slit, coating himself in her slick, bumping her clit a few times in the process. At last, he began to leisurely enter her, inch by inch. They both groaned when he bottomed out, fully seated inside of her.

“Fuck honey, you’re just so tight, so wet, so warm for me,” he whimpered, moving inside her with slow, deep strokes. He wanted to make this last, to draw out her pleasure. With every thrust, he told her how good she felt, how beautiful she looked underneath him, how her pussy was made for him, how perfect she was. He could’ve gone like that for quite some time, slowly bringing her closer and closer to her high. Only her pleas of more, faster, harder made him speed up.

He grabbed one of her legs, placing it higher on his hip, allowing him to hit deeper inside her. Her hips moved in unison with his own, meeting each thrust into her. He would never get tired of the pretty sounds she made for him when he was fucking her. Those breathy moans she let out, the babbling it all spurred him on. He could tell she was close. She always got so fucking wet and even tighter right before she came. He dropped a hand between them, rubbing hard, tight circles around her clit. Not even a half dozen thrusts later, and she was wailing in ecstasy, clamping down on him like a vice. He wasn’t far behind, spilling himself deep within her, muttering her name over and over like a prayer.

He rolled off of her, panting, taking a minute to catch his breath as he gazed at her blissed-out form. Hair a mess, chest heaving, lips swollen from his kisses to Marcus, she was stunning. He couldn’t think of a moment when she was more gorgeous than right then and there. He could look at her forever, just like this.

Eventually, he got up and grabbed a warm cloth, gently cleaning her off. Turning off the light, he climbed back into bed, pulling her body to his, cradling her close. He let his hand wander, rubbing soothing circles over her belly.

“You’re gonna look so stunning, honey, all round with our baby. I promise I’ll take such good care of you. I’ll do whatever you need.”

He could feel his wife sigh, completely relaxed in his arms. He held her close, basking in her warmth and the love between them. He let his mind wander, thinking of the future, thinking of this baby.

“I’m gonna cut back at work, move more into an advisory role in the Heroics. As your pregnancy progresses, I’ll be able to work from home and take a solid chunk of paternity leave when the baby comes. I’ve given enough of myself to the world. It’s time for me to give everything I can to my family, to you, to the girls, to this baby. I’ll go drop off the marriage certificate tomorrow before I go into HQ to talk about restructuring my job. That way, you’ll officially be Dr. Moreno, even though you’ve already been that to me for a long time.”

She answered him with a happy sigh and kisses to his hand that entwined with hers. “I’d like that, Marcus. It might be selfish, but I want you here, with us. We love you so much; it’s nice when you’re here. It makes our family complete.”

They spent a few more minutes talking about the future, drifting off into deep, dreamless sleep. The thought of tomorrow was full of bright promises, just waiting to be embraced.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x y/n #we can be heroes #pedro pascal

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icylook · 3 years

Text

I will see you again

Pairing: Leon x Leri (MC)

Rating: Mature; Word count: 1655; Read on AO3

Tags: Spoilers for the AMR demo; Not canon compliant - Leon and Leri (MC) started their relationship half a year before the final battle; Established Relationship; Angst and Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Feels; Implied Smut

A Mage Reborn demo 👑 ✨ @mage-parivir

The sound of his footsteps echoes in the hall, torches illuminating the space. All the guards he passes by either nod their heads at him or don’t react at all to his presence, avoiding eye contact. He pays them no mind, answering the subtle greetings with a small tilt of his chin now and then. There are two guards at the door Leri goes for. They shift slightly when he nears but don’t stop him when he knocks lightly, muted murmur of conversation behind wooden door disrupted with strong “Come in”.

He doesn’t hesitate stepping in, leaving the door open so the one talking with Leon would have a clear message of his intentions - your time with the Prince is over, now leave. Especially when the person is Ante, standing in the middle of the sitting room. Light armor on, all in black and the scowl on her face is like a lightning - there and gone - when she sees him.

“Your Highness, please reconsider-”

“No. And it’s final.” Leon’s stern expression clears when he turns to look at him. “Took you long enough. I thought you'd gone missing.”

Leri ignores Ante, as they agreed all this time ago in the clearing during the rebellion. She was doing her job, observing him closely from the shadows. He was doing his job, making sure they all came out of the mess alive. They had a mutual agreement of not stepping on each other's toes if possible. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t rile her up now and then with his behaviour.

“Saine got a tip about lemon muffins in kitchens. I had to check.”

Green eyes brighten in a hopeful spark. “Did you bring me some?”

“Should I?” Leri asks playfully, twisting his wrist in a lazy display of magic, summoning one of his pocket dimensions with a small crystal attached to his ring. The enchantment appears in wisps of purplish smoke, revealing a pastry in pristine condition sitting on his palm. When Leon reaches for it, he steps back with a tut.

“Where are your manners, Your Highness?” His smirk widens when Leon’s confusion slips with a flash of want when he purposely lowers his voice and adds, “Say please.”

Leon opens his mouth to response when someone clears their throat. Pointedly. Leri glances at Ante staring daggers at him, before her eyes meet Leon’s.

The tips of his ears redden a little. “Thank you, Ante. Dismissed.” Ante’s back straightens so impossibly fast when she salutes him, Leri is silently amazed it doesn’t crack.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Leri dips his head at her with one word goodbye. “Spymaster.”

“Royal retainer.”

The corners of his lips curl upward at the spite veiled in her carefully neutral tone. She looks at him for a few long seconds, her gaze piercing. Only when he doesn’t falter in his amusement she marches past him, mindful of leaving space so as not to touch him.

“Let me guess, she wanted you to approve sending people after me.” He says after the door closes with a click. Leon’s by him now, gentle fingers seizing the wrist with muffin holding hand. His other hand rests on the belt over Leri’s hip, steering him to lean on Leon’s side. He smiles at his not so sneaky attempt at getting the pastry via distraction. He humors Leon into thinking that it’s working, tilting his head closer to his neck to get a whiff of his clean scent. Rich and comforting.

Leon hums in affirmation.

“She’ll probably do it anyway.” Leri murmurs.

“No she won’t.” Leon prepares to take a bite of the pastry, hand carefully holding his own in place. Leri watches as Leon closes his eyes, savouring the cream with bits of sour fruit. Mesmerized by the up close view of pink tongue chasing the taste as he swallows a bite. Half a muffin is gone in a blink and he huffs a laugh.

“I guess some of them were right.” Leon’s brow goes up in silent question. “The Sun Prince is eating straight from my palm.”

He smiles widely before he leans in. “I guess he does.” Their lips meet, softly and slowly. Hints of sweetness sneak into the kiss, mingling with the taste of the pastry Leon just devoured. Leri closes his eyes, nuzzling into the palm that cups his cheek when they part. The roughness of Leon’s skin on his face is a reminder of what they went through. Every callous and scar on his hands is a memento he wants to cherish as long as Leon lets him. He tilts his head to the side until his mouth brushes the middle of Leon’s hand, golden eyes holding intense green.

“You really depart tomorrow.”

Leri nods.

“Anything I can do to convince you to postpone that until the coronation?” Leon’s smile is endearingly sheepish, like he clearly knows the answer but still tries anyway. His brave, stubborn man.

Guilt twists in his gut. He wants to tell him. Tried to, many times, testing the boundaries of the spell. Choking on words even before his thoughts formulated properly into them, the invisible collar tightening with unnatural force. Its ominous weight sitting at his throat, a reminder of the time wasting away like sand in an hourglass. Grain by grain, closer to their end.

Once, alone in his chambers, he took it too far when attempting to speak of what he knew, of the great danger hovering over the kingdom. The collar throttled him until he lost his breath, on the brink of consciousness. He fell to the floor, blinking through the tears, black spots dancing in his vision with whispers of blood frantically pounding in his head. Clawing at his neck, curled on the cold stone. Desperate for air as his lungs burned painfully without it. The spell is simply impervious and any knowledge about it is buried in the ruins of the place he hopes to find other answers to. He doesn’t want to, but he has to go. It’s the only way for salvation, for him and for his Sun. For the kingdom.

He can’t tell him that.

So he crushes their mouths together again, swallowing Leon’s surprised noise. Pushing and taking, until he answers him back with the same urgency. Just like the first time ages ago - the kiss as an answer to the question he couldn’t find the right words for. But as the first clumsy kiss felt like giddiness and relief, this one is full of desperation and need. Leri wants to get closer, needs to get closer and he clings to Leon when they blindly stumble through the door to the next room. Clothes thrown without much thought to the floor, marking their hurried way to the bed.

Leon lets himself be pushed onto his back, Leri crawling over him. He runs his hands through the long ashy strands of Leri’s hair, sighing when their lips meet.

They don’t leave the bed until much later.

/////

Leri’s standing near the high window overlooking palace gardens in Leon’s bedroom. Now barely seen because of the night’s darkness.

“I wish you’d stay.”

Leon is only a bit taller than Leri, loose trousers low on his hips. He can openly admire the expanse of his uncovered skin and the marks he left on his body because Leri stole his shirt. And it’s the only thing he’s wearing at the moment.

With arms wrapped around him, the height difference is nonexisting. It’s easy to meet his gaze when he leans back to peer at his face. His eyes meet emeralds, full of warmth and longing. Leri’s fingers gently trace the pale line of a small scar hidden with the hair at Leon’s temple. Evidence of one of too many close calls during the war.

“Leon.” I wish to stay too. I don’t want to let you go, not after everything.

“I will see you again.” The words taste like lies, spilling easily like ones. But they hold the truth, one he wants to believe in. Something hot pokes at the back of his eyes so suddenly, he quickly covers it with exaggerated sniff.

“Besides, I can’t let any of those stuffy nobles take away my rightful position, can I?” His smile feels a little bit too wide. A little bit too forced but he holds it on, just to see the sadness clear from Leon’s expression.

“So I should hold it open for you then?”

“Hold and defend it. Because I’ll be back for it.”

Leon snorts a laugh, hiding it in Leri’s hair. “I feel like it’ll be a battle worse than everything else so far.” He shifts his hands on him, resting them at the small of his back.

“I expect compensation.” Leon adds playfully, murmuring the words on the skin of Leri’s forehead. His lips feel like a brand when he presses a long kiss to it and Leri has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep his tears at bay. The tenderness of the gesture digs up the storm of emotions he desperately tries to shut down. A prick of sorrow grips at his throat unexpectedly and he can’t hide the shaky exhale in time before Leon notices.

Because Leon does notice, his body stiffening when Leri starts shaking in his arms.

“What’s wrong-” He doesn’t let him finish, doesn’t want Leon to see him like this. Not now, not when the dread starts to rear its ugly head again to cloud his mind. But he doesn’t hide, because it’s useless with Leon. Even if he wants to. So he leans back, his sight a little blurry. His smile’s wet around the corners but it’s more real.

“I will see you again.”

Leon’s lips part, any words stuck to his tongue. Then his face brightens with a smile of his own, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I know. I’ll be waiting.”

And Leri will do everything to keep his promise.

Everything.

#amr #a mage reborn #icy is writing #Valerian Virtanen #oc leri #writing with good music in the background gives the best effects #:D :D :D #especially for angst

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generalfoolish · 3 years

Text

Jate'kara

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: lots of bad space language, talk of Bo-Katan and Death Watch, sleazy g-pa Greef

Word count: ~2K

Pairing: (eventually!!!) Din Djarin x F!reader

Summary: A Mandalorian is searching for Mando.

A/N: Hey babes! This is number four of the #mandomay2021 prompt list. I promise they'll keep being longer! Enjoy 💕

Masterlist | Aru'e | Cyare’se

Piloting in hyperspace didn’t require you to interact with the controls. For longer flights, this allowed you to sleep and recharge. But on this flight, you longed for something to do with your hands. You were jittery. You couldn’t sleep. You could only pace. Zek’s words crashed around in your mind. You had left Echi there, with a stale promise on your lips to return. He had slowly shaken his head in disagreement and muttered that it wasn’t your jate’kara. You had only scoffed, your destiny was what you made it.

Except in the deafening silence of hyperspace, the crushing truth was suffocating. You had long decided that your jate’kara was to die fighting the Empire. You had mused and waited, hunted and paced, you were tired of plotting. You would give your life, gladly, to see even one Imp fall.

Why did it have you reeling now?

It was the covert. You told yourself. Placating and smoothing the crinkles that so much life had created. Beyond Echi, you hadn’t talked to another soul in ages. You were well and alone. However, now, you had a place. Zek had offered, insisted, and almost begged, you to stay. They needed more hands for foundlings, they needed more income to sponsor them. The group had moved from Zanbar after a deadly battle had broken out, and there had been no shortage of orphans in the wake.

You had turned the offer over more than you wanted to admit. You had stayed the night. You shared their meals, their home. They were far from the reaches of Mandalore, and they seemed free to live without the stifling rules you had known on Krownest. You had felt seen and accepted there. They didn’t even notice your armor. Their kindness reminded you of your own covert.

You wouldn’t have fit in. Your darkness would have been their destruction, your inner voice reprimanded. You shuddered the thought down. The images of prone children, faceless for their helmets with pools of blood gathering underfoot, were too quick. You fisted your eyes, rubbing your knuckles in harshly.

Before you knew it, the children were your own. The destruction of your own covert. Your buir crawling to his blaster, stopped with a crack from another faceless stormtrooper. You gasped and tried to think of anything else. There was nothing else. Only death, and the lull of deep space. You tried to calm your breathing. It only worked marginally, the panic attack at bay, but the paralyzing fear still lingering.

A shrill ping brought you back to life. You made your way over to the panel, and dropped from hyper. The ping was a message, a holo sent from an informant, and the message was simple: go to Nevarro. You wondered what good the volcanic planet would be to you. You drummed your fingers against the datapad, before punching in the coordinates to the port on Nevarro. All you knew was that there had been a Guild on the planet, but you didn’t know much else.

With no other leads, you hoped that the Guild might have a puck or a location on some of the men you sought. It was close to Mandalore, too close to not have ties, so the locals might not immediately view you as a danger.

The T Visor of your helmet stared back at you, your reflection searching the inky wells and finding nothing. The helmet was the most important piece of armor, it protected you the most, but you couldn’t help but feel separate from it. You felt stripped every time you took it off, and you wondered how much of your humanity was retained when you slid the metal in place. You hoped most of it, but you knew it was likely none.

You maneuvered your ship down, a ring of dust blurring your windshield. Volcanic planet, indeed. You made your way through the streets quickly. The main street appeared to be under construction, and you wondered why they would bother. The whole city seemed on the brink of falling in on itself. You found the market easily, and veered opposite it. You had expected the town’s leader would be across from the most populous spot, and right you were. You crossed the open threshold, and looked around.

“Ah, here for Mando?” The human woman was leaning over some paperwork, but sat up straight when she saw you. You tilted your head slightly, but remained silent.

“Sheriff Dune, at your service. Who’re you?” The woman’s short hair curled into her eyes, but she swept them back with a broad hand. You noticed her bulging arms under her long sleeves. She was far from just a sheriff. You had no idea why you were sent here, or who you were actually looking for. You decided to take the chance. Mando, short for Mandalorian?

“Yes, Sheriff Dune. I’m looking for Mando.” She stretched her lips in a thin line and nodded.

“Your business with him?” You swore her eyes narrowed as she spoke. She was friendly with this one. You worked fast to think through a sufficient lie. A mandalorian not sharing his name would likely be a bounty hunter, and of course, the guild was on Nevarro, not too far from Mandalore. You needed more information, but you could work with what you had so far.

“Heard he was the best, and I need some help tracking someone down.” You released the stance you held, to look more at ease, and tried to lighten your voice to a self-deprecating tone. You hoped she would buy it. It was plausible enough.

You didn’t worry long. She visibly relaxed.

“He’s off world at the moment. Want me to send him a holo?” You tensed back up, and paused. You had no message for him. Dank farrick, you didn’t know if he was even who you were searching for. Cara seemed to pick up on that.

“I’ll just ping him, tell him Greef needs him back.” She waved it off, and disappeared behind a door. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think. What if he was Death Watch? What if he was with...you swallowed it. You couldn’t afford to think about that. If he was against you, you’d deal with it when the time came. You had handled yourself against mandalorians before, and not that you were itching for that fight, you could do it again.

“You always wear that bucket?” Cara asked as she walked back in. Your mind raced again. The lies piling on, the hole you were digging seemingly too far to return from.

“Only if I want to put it on again.” You told her, terse. She nodded, and chuckled.

“Yeah, you and Mando will get along fine. He’s only a few hours out. You caught him on a return trip.” You swallowed hard, knowing that the metal would hide your nervousness.

“Good. Guild?” You asked, not knowing anything else to add. She nodded.

“Karga, got a guild member up front. Another bucket head.” She flashed a grin at you, and slumped down heavily into her chair.

“Welcome to Nevarro! What can I do for you?” A darker human entered, holding his arms far apart. You knew the tactic, he was afraid of mandalorians.

“I’m looking for someone.” You started slowly, hoping to gain more information than you lost.

“Not really my expertise.” He raised his hands in a shrug.

“No, I’m wondering if you have any Imp pucks?” You asked, hoping to cut through the game.

“You guild?” Crik. You hadn’t thought about the guild requiring status. No sense in lying here.

“No.”

“Doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid.” You bite your cheek. Hard. Hard enough to draw blood. Anything to keep from grinding your teeth more.

“You can keep the bounty.” You reasoned, hoping he was greedy.

“Like I said,” he glanced at Cara who was doing a bad job at hiding her interest. “Doesn’t work like that.” Greedier. Great, you thought.

“I’ll pay you for the puck, and you keep the bounty. I’m assuming you do have a puck.” You had struck a chord.

“It’s an Imperial job, and I can give you the chain code.” You nodded at him, and brought your vambrace up, ready for input. He was silent. You raised your helmet to him, and he shook his head.

“I can’t. It feels...wrong now.” You ground your teeth down hard enough to make your jaw click. The sooner this Mando was here, the sooner you could blast a hole through this Karga.

“Who is it on?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Bo-Katan. She helped Mando, and well, seems wrong sending another one of you after her.” You dropped your arm, not caring if your hand was played. It couldn’t be true.

“Bo-Katan? The mandalorian?” You asked, the modulator picking up your shock with ease.

“Yes, she is not an enemy here.” Dank farrick.

“She fought with us. I can’t believe you even thought about it, Greef.” Cara reprimanded, but you barely registered it. You were spinning out.

“I...I have no quarrels with Bo-Katan.” You told them, hoping they heard the sincerity. “I...I’m sorry, is there a covert here?” They looked at each other before looking at you.

“It was destroyed.” Cara told you gently. It felt like too much. “I can show you.” You nodded numbly, and followed behind her through the dusty streets. She took you to a tattered curtain, and you slipped in.

“I’ll send Mando here when he arrives.” Cara told you, her tone more concerned than anything. You nodded tightly and disappeared down the concrete steps. When you were away from the landing you tugged your helmet off and threw it against the wall. The beskar clanged loudly against it, but it tumbled to the ground unharmed. You cursed under your breath at yourself, and grabbed it to inspect the paint. As expected, there was a gash under the eye, where the black had chipped away. The silver shining through broke what was left of your resolve.

“Bo-criking-Katan? Who is this guy?” You grumbled and collapsed to the floor. Dust swirled up and around you, and you couldn’t help but think of Jeculan. The swirling snow had been beautiful. Echi had bounded through it easily, hunting for some unsuspecting prey. You laughed, you had released a menace on that planet. You wondered what Zek was doing, and how the foundlings were liking playing with their new pet. Your lie wasn’t unsustainable. You could keep the helmet on, that wasn’t a problem. But you didn’t know enough about the Death Watch to play pretend with a member. If Mando was in bed with Bo-Katan, they’d kill you before you made it off this crikking dusty planet. You laid your head back, and rolled your neck. You hadn’t even got any leads from the guild guy, what was his name, Karga?

You groaned and looked around. You hadn’t noticed at first, but the covert was wrecked. The clan living here had left in a hurry. Cara had said it was destroyed. You wondered if they had lived in secret, like some. You wondered about the foundlings who would have made their way here. You wondered about this Mando.

Not the most original, you scoffed. Mando the Mandalorian? You supposed it would be helpful in bounty hunting to be nameless, but a fake name would have inspired more fear.

You were so entranced in your own thoughts that you hadn’t heard the footsteps ringing down the steps. You barely registered a man clearing his throat. You whipped your head around to face him before you thought about it; before you remembered to put on your helmet. He turned his head quickly, and you realized your mistake. You slid your helmet down into place, and you mumbled an apology.

“You’re Mando?” He nodded tightly, turning to face you again. Your heart was seizing with fear. You had seen other mandalorians, you knew that they could be broad, even massive. The armor helped. But Mando seemed giant, looming over you, no paint, glinting in the dusty sunlight.

“Cara said you needed me?” He sounded tired. You felt, even amidst your fear, guilty for this.

“I’m looking for someone, but I didn’t realize that…” You fell off, not sure how to continue. He waited, his head tilting slightly when you hadn’t continued after a moment. “You were with Bo-Katan.” His helmet seemed to tilt further over.

“What does this have to do with her?” He asked, a hand landing on his hip.

“Nothing, actually. I just don't want her attention.” He snorted, and held his hand out. You took it, and he helped you to your feet.

“I’m not with her. I’m actually trying to stay as far from her as possible. Who are you after?” He asked softly. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Imps.”

**Translations

Jate'kara: destiny, luck

Crik: expletive

Dank farrick: expletive

#the mandalorian #mandomay2021 #jate'kara #not to be confused with @krissology jate'kara which is superb #mando #cara dune #bo-katan #greef karga #mandalorians

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redqueen-hypothesis · 4 years

Text

falling stars ➳ shaw (mlqc)

➳ PAIRING: reader x shaw (mlqc)

➳ WORD COUNT: 1796

➳ GENRE: slightly suggestive, fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: falling stars aren’t really stars, but you’ll still make a wish on them regardless (shaw tells you it’s a scam)

“Shaw, please don’t make it rain tonight.”

The man in question grumbles as the two of you make your way up a little hill, wearing an exasperated expression on his face and trailing behind you reluctantly. “Keep being a wet blanket and I might even call down a thunderstorm.”

You swat him on the arm and he yelps. “We’re here to see a meteor shower! If you make it rain, this entire trip would be wasted.”

“I didn’t want to come in the first place.” Shaw mumbles, but otherwise stays silent when the two of you find a good spot to lay your picnic mat. It’s relatively dark out here, far from the outskirts of Loveland City, the night air quiet and idyllic - you’re used to the hustle and bustle of the city even when the sun has long fallen behind the horizon. “This is dumb.”

You pout, looking put out. “Gods, I just wanted to see the stars with you. If you don’t want to see them, go home then.” He doesn’t catch the sly smile on your lips.

“Are you crazy?” Shaw scoffs, rapping his knuckles on top of your head and this time you’re the one to yelp, shying away from his hand. “It’s late and the streets aren’t safe. I’m not letting you go home alone and that’s that.”

“Wow, that’s so thoughtful of you.” You giggle lightly, pressing a gentle kiss to Shaw’s cheek. His light flush spreads down his neck, under the collar of his black shirt. “You’re my girl. Like I’ll leave you to the wolves.”

When you pull him down to lie with you on the picnic mat, he lays there silently for a few moments. The skies above twinkle gently with stars on this rare, cloudless night, and you squint to make out the constellations you had read about on the way here. “Wow, that star is really pretty.” You point to a single, brilliant dot that seems to outshine all the others. “Look. It’s so bright.”

Shaw doesn’t reply for a few moments, and you’ve gone back to looking at the other stars scattered across the night sky when he suddenly speaks up. “That isn’t a star.”

Your eyes widen, and you turn your head to look at him in surprise. He’s lying on his back, hands cradling his head as he looks up at the sky, a strange expression on his face - crossed somewhere between nostalgia and regret. “It’s not a star? How can you tell?”

“It’s not flickering like stars are supposed to do. See?” Shaw points up at the sky above. To your surprise, he’s right. “The thing that you pointed out is a planet - Jupiter.”

Gavin’s favourite planet. Total trust and loyalty. Unending protectiveness.

“What about falling stars? They’re not really stars, are they?” You whisper into the cool night air, tentative. Shaw lets out a small bark of laughter, amused.

“Don’t be stupid. If a star did fall to the earth we’d all be dead.” His voice sounds lighter now. “When the earth passes into the a trail of debris left by a comment, some get pulled in by the gravity and fall to the ground from space. The meteor shower you’re going to see tonight is called the April Lyrids.”

“I didn’t know you liked astrology.” You murmur quietly, pressing closer to the warmth of Shaw’s body as you shiver lightly. He reaches out an arm to pull you into his side. “I don’t.”

There’s a quietness to his voice. You reach up to pull the arm encircling you - like your own meteor belt, you think - and lace his fingers with yours. “Then how do you know so much about it?”

It’s almost imperceptible, but you’re close enough for your heart to hear the tiny, unsteady exhale Shaw lets out before he answers. “I didn’t, but my brother did. He was so annoying, trying to teach me about them when we were younger.” He doesn’t say anymore, but you know the words that are left unsaid on his tongue.

Not anymore.

You press a kiss to his leather clad fingers, and Shaw shivers slightly at your touch. “Teach me about them some time?”

“Too boring.”

“Hey,” you start to protest, but then out of the corner your eye you see the a streak of white light crossing the sky, like a paintbrush of the heavens moving across the black canvas of the night. “Shaw, look! It’s a shooting star! Make a wish!”

“It’s a bunch of bull.” He complains, but you slap him on the thigh, rising to your knees to look more clearly at the shower of blazing stars that scatter across the cosmos above. A noise of discontent leaves his mouth when your warmth leaves him. “Hells, it’s just a bunch of falling, burning rocks.”

He still sits up next to you anyway, running a hand through his silver locks as he looks up at the sky. Meteoroids in space, pulled out of their orbit to crash land on this planet, burning as they come. Shaw can’t help but feel like one of them when he looks at you, your pull inescapable - but burning hurts him in the best way.

“Make a wish.” You insist, clasping his hands together with your own small ones, squeezing. The look in your eyes is so hopeful that warmth bubbles and settles in his chest, and he lets out a sigh. “Fine, fine.”

Grinning, you shut your own eyes, falling silent as you make your wish. Unknown to you, Shaw doesn’t do the same, instead finding himself watching you in place of the stars above silently. What wish are you making?

For just a second, he wishes selfishly, a lingering hope in his chest that he could be in your wish, somehow.

Too soon, your eyes are blinking open,before they fix on his own - and Shaw thinks he sees stars in their depths that put the ones above to shame.

“That was fast.” You comment, looking surprised and Shaw snorts, turning away. He can feel the tips of his ears burning. “I knew what I wanted, so it was a simple matter for me. What did you wish for?”

At that, you cross your arms across your chest. “Nope, can’t tell you. Don’t you know that if you tell someone your wish, it will never come true?”

Shaw raises a single eyebrow. “What if I show it instead of say it?”

“Huh-”

In a flash, Shaw reaches over and pulls you over to him. You stumble, completely unbalanced and find yourself on your back with the sky above, storm clouds gathering at the edges of your vision. A second later, they’re replaced by honey amber eyes, your wrists held in place by Shaw’s hands, your pulse running wild at the heat of his skin on yours.

“Shaw, what kind of kinky wish is this- mmph!”

His mouth is searing heat, liquid honey and tantalizing liquor all at once, and you find yourself gripping the collar of his shirt tighter to bring his lips down to you, gravitational pull. His tongue slips into your mouth, caressing yours with a burning intensity that makes your head spin and your lungs forget the meaning of air.

You don’t know how long you kiss, breaking apart for air only to come back together fiercer, darker, deeper. His skin is burns like liquid fire runs underneath the surface, and in then his hands are cupping the back of your head, slanting his mouth over yours once again.

Time loses its hold, stars spinning out of control over the two of you... until you feel the first raindrops on your cheeks.

Your eyes fly open and you smack him in the center of the chest gently. He doesn’t even flinch, pulling away to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and a very satisfied smirk. “Shaw! We’re ruining the night for the other people who wanted to watch the meteor shower!”

“It’s not my fault you make me happy.” Shaw complains, sitting back on his heels. The rain drips down his forehead, beading at his bottom lip - your eyes fixate on it, seemingly unable to look at anything else. “Seriously, I told you this was a bad idea-”

You reach up and pull him down to you once again, fingers fisting in the wet locks of his hair. “Just shut up and kiss me. We’ll make the best of what we have.”

Shaw’s eyes sparkle gold with amusement, leaning down to brace himself on his forearms. He’s so close you can see every individual rain drop clinging to his eyelashes, feel the heat of his breath on your mouth. “As you wish, ma’am.”

Before you can breathe, his mouth is on yours again, harder, more desperate. A wandering hand slips beneath the soaked material of your top and you shiver at the burning heat of his palm in contrast with the chilly night air, exploring and mapping out your skin. “You’re cold.”

“Then warm me up.” You reply, breathless, and he looks pleased as he leans in to capture your lips once again, teeth nipping. You almost lose yourself in the heat of the moment, arms holding on to his shoulders when he drags his mouth over the bare skin of your shoulder, until there’s a deafening crack of thunder and the two of you jump apart.

“Goddamn, Shaw!”

“It wasn’t me, I swear!” He raises both hands, glaring up at the sky like he wants to punch it for interrupting him. You look down at your shirt, only to see it soaked through by the rain and groan, crossing your arms over your chest, pink burning at your cheeks.

Shaw sees, and with a roll of the eyes, tugs off his leather jacket to toss it at you. “Here, wear this.” You shrug it on, basking in the body warmth it still retains - and Shaw’s scent curling at the edges of the leather, sharp and spicy on your nose with the cutting hint of ozone. “Maybe we should really get going-”

There’s another ear splitting crack as lighting tears the sky apart, and Shaw grabs your hand, throwing the picnic mat over both your heads. His grin is brighter than the electricity racing across the night, wild with laughter.

“Fucking run!”

Hand in hand, the two of you run down the hill, screaming at each other whenever thunder roars. And yet, you don’t feel the least bit afraid, because of the warmth of Shaw’s hand wrapped around yours.

The stars watching from above twinkle in their amusement through the storm clouds, and at the edge of the sky, a falling star burns bright, a heartfelt wish granted.

I wish that his wish comes true.

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc shaw #shaw #mr love queen's choice shaw #mr love queen's choice

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ttttaehyungie · 4 years

Text

a twist of fate | pjm x reader

a twist of fate | park jimin x reader oneshot

☘ genre | bff2l, soulmate au, fluff

☘ word count | 4k

☘ rating | PG-13

☘ summary | It was on one of those nights, sprawled lazily on the couch with the armrest as a pillow for your head, mindlessly scrolling through the threads as you speed-read them, that you first came across the term. Singular soulmates? It had you sitting up. Singular soulmates, put simply, was where someone may be your soulmate, but you’re not theirs.

☘ a/n | This fic was fueled by the recent return of my struggles with insomnia (but has, in turn, further fueled my insomnia as well...) and I just wanted to write some characters being dumb alrite HAHAH

The day your best friend’s name appears on your body was a day filled with panic for you. You still remember the immediate response your brain spat out the moment you saw the black letters of his name printed on your skin.

What the heck- NO.

It’s not that Jimin was unattractive- in character nor in looks. It’s just that, like every boy that age, he was obsessed with girls, entranced by any girl that so much as looked at him for more than two seconds. You couldn’t blame him. Being fourteen was just like that, or so you’ve heard. Being fourteen, pubescent and hormonal, people around you just magically became attractive, acne and brace-faces didn’t matter. Being fourteen, standing at the cusp of maturity and the newfound independence that it brought, but without possessing said maturity in its fullness yet, love and relationships were inevitably an exciting topic to navigate in all its sparkling novelty. Being fourteen, you knew that he didn’t really have feelings for you.

But now, at age twenty-two, his name still sits in its place under your collarbone. The cursive style of it has the starting letter of his name looping into the other remaining letters that resemble little waves with the way it’s strung together.

No one really knows all that much about soulmates, just that the mark appears after your soulmate falls in love with you. But as to how fleeting or how deep the feelings are, no one knows. Whether the mark fades along with the feelings is a mystery too. There’s little proper literature on the subject, and whatever you do know about the topic is the result of casually scrolling through reddit whenever you’re bored.

It was on one of those nights, sprawled lazily on the couch with the armrest as a pillow for your head, mindlessly scrolling through the threads as you speed-read them, that you first came across the term. Singular soulmates? It had you sitting up. Singular soulmates, put simply, was where someone may be your soulmate, but you’re not theirs.

You’d dismissed it away back then, writing it off as hogwash floating around on the internet where there’s no information gatekeeper.

Now? It’s become a real fear.

Because you’ve fallen in love with your best friend.

Har har, what a cheesy romance trope, you know. But what were you supposed to do when, during that Christmas break of your first year of college, you had the shocking revelation that Jimin had grown up.

You barely restrained yourself from gawking at the sight of your best friend walking down the street towards your rendezvous point. You’d gone off to different colleges, neither of them far from your hometown, but not close enough that it was convenient to see each other anytime. So you haven’t seen each other in four months. And apparently, in the time that you’d both gone not seeing each other, Jimin’s body had suddenly gained all this muscle in a lithe and toned kind of way. Studying contemporary dance full-time had really changed his body, his once lean and slender limbs now becoming sinewy and firm.

He’d really become a…

“...Hunk.”

“What?”

“Hug!”

You barrel into his arms, and his familiar musk eases you. It’s a strange sensation, feeling the ridges of his body where soft and pliant flesh used to be. But he rests his chin atop your head, and the gentle weight of it is still the same as ever.

“Did you miss me? Or are you just using me for my body warmth?”

Even though he’s changed physically, he’s still the same dork as ever, and it has you smiling both with mirth and with the assurance that he’s still the same Jimin despite the distance of four months between you.

“You’re probably the one using me for body warmth, Mr I’m too cool to wear a jacket to the movie theaters.”

“That was one time!”

It earns you a jab in your side that has you squeaking and writhing in his arms. Yup, some things stay the same.

It’s at your yearly Christmas get together with the gang that things start to go wrong.

Up to that point, you’d blamed the odd sensation on the initial surprise at Jimin’s change in physique. But now, looking at him in his black turtleneck and silver hair, standing by the fireplace and laughing with Tae, his eyes creased in laughter in that oh so familiar way, it has your heart squeezing in a very unfamiliar way.

It’s just because you haven’t seen him in a while and you’ve missed him, you rationalize, taking a sip of the drink in your hand.

Or it could be the alcohol. Yes, it must be the alcohol.

He’s still the same Jimin as ever, you muse, yet something about him just feels so… different. It’s like he’s grown up so much, even though he’s still retained his dorky rambunctious nature.

On the drive here, one arm on the wheel and the other on the backrest of your seat, and the setting sun behind his profile, you couldn’t help the way your heart leapt in your chest.

But maybe it’s just the golden hour sunshine that had him bathing in radiance.

Yet, you knew the view of him was just one thing. It was also in his aura. Leaving for college had forcibly hurled all of you into independence, and Jimin’s had left him becoming someone with a quiet hum of reliability.

Even his chronic tardiness had been left behind with high school Jimin. You’ve known Jimin since preschool and after all these years of knowing him, you’re well-accustomed to the pouty apologies that he doles out each time he’s late- which is always. When he’d offered to pick you up at your house at 5pm to drive you to Hobi’s, you’d fully expected to only have him swing by at 5.30. To your surprise, when you’d made your way downstairs at 5, you’d found him sitting in your living room chatting with your mum, as he apparently had been doing for the last 15 minutes.

Jimin notices your arrival and you don’t miss the quick once-over he gives you. But he doesn’t say anything about it as he gets up from the couch- the same couch he’d once stained from tripping and spilling chocolate milk all over way back in middle school- and promises your mum that he’d make sure you come back in one piece. When you got to his car, instead of the candy wrapper and crumbs-strewn car you were expecting, you were met with a surprisingly spotless interior instead. Your previous perception of your best friend- little brother to be taken care of at all times- was shattered with each new discovery that left only a sturdy and dependable version of him in its wake.

You go to take another sip of your drink, only to find that you’ve unknowingly emptied the cup while you were musing over your best friend’s recent transformation. Frowning into the cup, you decide to get a refill.

From the corner of his eye, Jimin spots you moving off the couch and it’s clear you’re heading to the kitchen where the drinks are. The flush of your face is a tell-tale sign of your tipsiness, if your quiet and withdrawn demeanor weren’t already a dead giveaway. He sighs and apologizes to Tae, cutting him off mid-sentence, and heads over to the kitchen after you.

You’re just about to gulp down more of Yoongi’s mulled wine when a hand wraps around yours, preventing the tilt of the cup and stopping you from ingesting any more of the inebriating liquid. A pair of stern eyes are trained on yours, and you wilt under his gaze, letting him take the glass from you.

But no. Your brain suddenly speaks through the fog. Thoughts of him have already plagued your mind all night, keeping you from having fun. But he’s not going to stop your fun any longer. You reach back for the glass, but it’s a weak attempt that’s easily countered as he pulls it away and out of your reach. He quirks an eyebrow at this.

“Stop controlling me,” you whine.

“I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just know you, and know that you won’t like missing the rest of this gathering just because you drank too much too fast.”

“But I’m fine!” Your voice comes out a little louder than you expected.

“Just slow down on the drinks, okay?” His tone is hushed as he attempts to placate you. “How many glasses has it been?”

“Not even that many.” Unlike him, you can’t be bothered to keep your exchange discreet. “Just give me the damn drink, Jimin!”

Unsurprisingly, your bickering has caught the attention of the others. Back in the living room, it’s Hoseok that has been badgered into playing peacemaker. He enters to see the two of you squabbling in his kitchen. But he also sees something else. Someone- most probably the instigator of all chaos in the group aka. Jin- has sneakily hung mistletoe above the drinks station, likely in hopes of catching two unsuspecting people as they got drinks together.

Which turns out to be you and Jimin.

Hoseok’s bright laughter cuts through the thick tension that has settled over the room. You look at him, only to find him pointing at something above your heads, and that’s when you finally look up and spot the mistletoe.

When you look back at Hoseok, the smirk that sits on his face is smug and unbudging.

“You gotta kiss now,” he sings in an equally smug tone.

“No,” you refuse. “No way.”

“Uh-uh, you know the tradition. You’re not escaping this.”

You shake your head adamantly.

“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss,” he goads. “C’moooon it’s just a peck.”

Jimin, who has stayed quiet up till now, finally speaks up. “Am I really that unappealing?”

He’s unreadable, wearing an expressionless mask.

“Okay, fine.” You’re unsure what his words mean, and it has you relenting, giving in to him as you so often do. “It’s just a kiss.”

You lean in, expecting just a chaste peck that will placate Hoseok. But you’re taken by surprise as Jimin cups your face, hand slightly cool on your cheek from your alcohol flush. The sensation is refreshing and you find yourself leaning into it slightly. His face hovers near yours, and the proximity has your heart pounding. Instinctively, your eyes flutter shut as he closes the final few millimetres between you. The kiss he lays on you is hesitant but the tenderness is undeniable, his plush lips nipping yours gently. He pulls back slowly and you can’t help the yearning that grows in tandem with the distance between you. Before you can say anything, he breaks eye contact and turns to Hoseok.

“There. Happy?”

Hoseok is nothing but pleased.

“Definitely.”

You’ve kissed. Jimin and you have just kissed. You kissed Jimin. Well, technically, he kissed you. You just stood there in shock the entire time. But the point is, Jimin, your best friend, and you kissed.

You spend the rest of the night by his side under his insistence that he keeps watch over you. He still refuses to let you drink a sip more. Not that you were putting up a fight anymore after what had just transpired.

At least your quietness for the rest of the night can be pinned on your tipsy state- you’re known to be a quiet drunk.

The rest of the way back home is spent mostly in silence too as you struggle to process what’s just happened. Even up to when you’re pulled up at your house and the engine is cut, you and Jimin merely exchange quiet goodnights.

The silence surrounding it persists till the next day. You’re hanging out in his room, watching a movie. You had said yes to the invitation to laze around in his room for the afternoon way before the unexpected events of the previous night. Even though the thought of seeing him had you antsy as hell, you couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to flake on him, so you dragged yourself over to his place.

It hadn’t been too bad when the movie was playing, you could just fake that you were watching the movie intently. But when it came to an end, so did your excuse for your unusual quietness. So here you are in his room, an empty bowl of what used to be popcorn and an incredibly awkward silence sitting between the two of you.

“Hey, ____,” he begins quietly.

“Hm?”

“We’re still best friends, right?”

Best friends. Right. You can’t deny the way your heart sinks a little at that. Quickly, before he can notice, you plaster on a smile.

“Of course we’re best friends, what are you talking about? We’re Jimin and ____. The dynamic duo. The inseparable pair.”

Jimin smiles faintly at that.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, y’know?” he starts again. “The kiss, I mean.”

“What?”

“I mean, Hobi was just pestering us into it so, yeah. Can we just forget about it?”

It has you pausing for a beat, but you scramble to agree.

“Yeah, yeah. Forget about it.”

That was all three years ago. You’d been friendzoned a whole three years ago. But still, you couldn’t get over your feelings after three years. You said you’d forget about the kiss, but you never did.

What hurt even more than being friendzoned though was the growing possibility that you were singular soulmates. After that Christmas break, things with Jimin had just gone back to normal, your best friendship persevering over geographical distance as you returned back to your own college campuses.

The kiss had certainly complicated things in that you suddenly had all these feelings for the person who at one time had simply been your best friend. Of course, it wasn’t just the kiss. Perhaps it was that first semester you’d spent apart- the first time your previously inseparable pair had ever really been separated- that made your appreciation for him grow. Or maybe it was the growing up he had done over that time that had you seeing Jimin in a different light and finally considering him properly as a man. The kiss had merely been the seal on the confusing feelings that had been bubbling up inside you since your reunion till the Christmas gathering. You had to come to terms with it- you’d fallen in love with your best friend.

If you were his soulmate, your name would surely have appeared on him by now. But he never mentioned it and the dynamics between you two only continued on as best friends.

And it sucked. You were in love with your best friend, your soulmate, but you weren’t his.

You’d tried dating around, in the last few years. Well, if your name hadn’t appeared on him, then maybe it’d appear on someone else. Maybe you just hadn’t met them yet and hadn’t fallen in love with the right one yet. Heck, maybe when they fell in love with you, their name would appear on you just under Jimin’s. It was an odd idea, you know, and you’d never heard of anyone else having that experience before. Perhaps you should launch your strange query out into the unknown void that is reddit and hope to find a comrade somewhere out there in cyberspace.

But the thought of it, imagining a name under Jimin’s, was just plain revolting to you. And what would they even make of it, having to play second fiddle to someone who’d been in your life through all the finger-painting and scuffed knees and awkward puberty and the countless late-night conversations on anything and everything? After all, your long-standing friendship with Jimin had been built on the kindred spirit that you’d serendipitously discovered in each other all those years ago in the playground of your childhood.

You always had to suffer through this train of thought, didn’t you, each time you were about to meet Jimin. You exhale, huffing out your frustration, and wrap your shawl around you as you step out of your car. It’s his graduation show tonight and the formalwear was a dress code requirement. You’d left all your formal dresses at home and had to borrow your college roomie’s instead. But the one she’d loaned you was strapless and failed to conceal your soulmate mark, hence the shawl to hide it.

By the time you get seated in the auditorium, it’s only a couple of minutes till the show begins. The program booklet keeps you occupied as you search for Jimin’s name to take note of which items he’s in so you can look out for him. But you know that even without it, you’d still spot him any time he’s on stage- his stage presence powerful and captivating enough to hold the audience rapt at attention.

The lights dim, and the conversations in the hall quieten with it. The anticipation for the show to begin is palpable. With a bang, it starts, the first item full of fierce and strong movements. You sink back into your seat, settling in for the entrancing show that the dance majors never fail to provide.

The show goes well, and Jimin’s appeared a number of times now. He exerts this magnetic pull on you, your gaze following him from when he first steps on stage till he runs off into the wings. Having followed his dance journey for so long now, you can see just how much his full-time training has paid off- the lines of his extensions are long and poised, his turns are immaculate. His movements exude passion and emotion, and you can’t look away.

That’s probably why you notice it. It’s as he’s running off stage that he stumbles. It’s small, and he’s almost at the wings, but you see how his ankle rolls and a pang of worry reverberates through you.

The enchantment from earlier is broken and replaced by nothing but concern. Each jump that he lands no longer has you dazzled, but wincing instead as you imagine him landing on his busted ankle. You know Jimin and you know his work ethic. He’ll put the production over his well-being any time and only speak up about it after everything is over and his body left battered with abuse.

There’s a slight relief when the lights finally come back on at the end of the show, but it’s not in its entirety. You need to see Jimin.

You’ve been to enough of his shows to remember the path backstage, and you sneak into the dressing rooms, slipping past the families and friends of the exhausted but happy dancers now crowding the lobby in the usual post-production celebrations.

Now that you’re backstage, your next challenge is finding the right door to Jimin’s dressing room. You spot someone ahead of you carrying an ice pack and figure it must be the person Jimin finally, and most likely begrudgingly, admitted his injury to.

“Jimin-ah,” the person calls, as he opens one of the many doors in the corridor.

“Ah, thank you so much,” you hear Jimin’s cheery voice ring out. You roll your eyes. It’s so like him to be putting on fake smiles to hide just how bad the pain is so that he won’t cause his friend to worry.

Your heels clack annoyingly against the floor, but you can’t find it in you to care to be quiet as you race to see him.

“Jimin!”

“____?”

Maybe you should have knocked. Or maybe you should have texted him that you were coming backstage. But then, you can’t find it in you to regret not doing either of those things because you burst into the room to find Jimin, drained and still in his final costume. That is- a shirtless costume. In your peripheral vision, you register his shocked expression, but your eyes are locked on something else.

Sitting there, just underneath his collarbone, is your name.

Jimin reaches for the first thing he can grab, which happens to be the ice pack, and attempts to cover up the mark, but that only has him hissing from the icy sting on the thin and sensitive skin of his chest.

“You idiot.” Your words are harsh but your tone is nothing but soft.

Sensing the seriousness of the conversation about to go down, his friend excuses himself from the dressing room. But you barely register that either, your mind still fixed on the visual memory of the soulmate mark on your best frie- no, your soulmate’s chest. The mark that matches yours in placement and in font.

You approach him slowly, and kneel next to him where he’s slumped on the floor and leaning against the wall. With a trembling hand, you gently hold his wrist and pull the ice pack away. There it is, skin slightly reddened from the cold, but the delicate swirls of the letters of your name sit crisp and delicate on his chest. Your thumb strokes across the letters, across your name imprinted on his skin.

“When?” You take the ice pack from him and settle it on his swollen ankle.

“Three years ago.” It comes out as a whisper.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” your voice is soft, your eyes shimmering with tears from welled up emotions. He holds your gaze in his as his thumb wipes away the tears that have spilled over.

“I thought you wanted to remain as best friends.”

A sardonic laugh escapes you before you can stop it. “And what gave you that stupid idea?”

Jimin averts his eyes with the next statement, the boring linoleum floor of the dressing room acting as his anchor as he verbalizes the thoughts that had wrung his heart out for so many years now. “I’m not your soulmate, and it’d be really selfish of me to force you into a relationship with me just because you’re mine.”

Your jaw drops. Then you sigh and shake your head lightly. A gentle tug on your shawl has it slipping off your shoulders and folding haphazardly into his lap. You get the satisfaction of watching his eyes go wide, his gaze trained on the script sitting just underneath your collarbone. The thought that it’s an exact replay of your own reaction has you giggling.

“But I-” he stutters, index finger rubbing at his name as if it would rub off. “But you said? We’re still best friends?”

Then his head snaps up to look you dead in the eyes, brows furrowed.

“Wait. Why didn’t you tell me?” he cries.

“We were fourteen!”

“Since we were fourteen?! You knew since we were fourteen and you didn’t tell me?!”

“I figured it was nothing more than pubescent hormones!” you scoff defensively, arms crossed in indignance. “Need I remind you just how many girls you were obsessed with that year?”

“Just one,” he mumbles and you barely catch it.

“What did you say?”

“It was just you,” he whispers. Your arms go slack as you see the earnestness in his eyes. He clears his throat and looks away. “I mean, I’m sure you know the struggle- what if I’m the only one who feels this way? And what if I lose my best friend because we’re not meant to be?”

The way his words resonate with your own sentiments so deeply reminds you just why you’re best friends. He’s captured your thoughts and struggles so astutely, as if you both shared one mind. Perhaps that’s why you’re soulmates after all.

“Is that why you asked me if we were still best friends?”

All you get is a quiet hum in response.

“And is that why you told me the kiss didn’t have to mean anything?”

He sighs. “Like I said, it would have been selfish to just keep you for myself, even if you’re my soulmate. Your soulmate could have been out there somewhere.” He finishes the thought with a chuckle and a shrug. “But not gonna lie, I wish you’d told me sooner. Do you know how difficult it’s been to love you from afar all these years because I thought I wasn’t your soulmate?”

“Oh believe me, I definitely know that struggle firsthand,” you say, echoing his earlier sigh of exasperation at both of your stupidities. “We’re idiots, aren’t we?”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s beaming as he asks, “are we still best friends?”

You snort. “Definitely idiots.”

“Well at least now I know I’m your idiot, idiot.”

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storiesbymads · 4 years

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SHE’S A WORKING GIRL NOW ¹ ( the internship . )

Y/N just got an internship at her childhood best friend’s brother’s company. The same brother who has no idea they’ve even met before.

general warnings: smut, age gap (about 8 years), angst

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You had known JJ Maybank since the first day of first grade. Funny how a teacher’s random seating chart had affected pretty much your whole life. If it hadn't been for said seating chart, you were absolutely, 100% sure that your life would’ve been on a completely different course than the one it was on now.

JJ had been your absolute best friend for as long as you could remember. Hell, for most of your life the two of you had shared everything--including a birthday party since your birthdays were three days apart. He had been there for every scraped knee, every failed test, every breakup. The two of you graduated high school attached at the hip and started college the same way that fall.

By the time junior year rolled around, you had both moved into a small apartment on the far side of town which, thankfully, meant no more student housing for either of you. Dorm life had been hell for you. Your roommate never seemed to fail at bringing someone new home every Friday night and would often kick you out leaving you to fend for yourself in the hallway. In all actuality, you stomped over to JJ’s dorm downstairs with your duvet wrapped around your shoulders and a scowl on your face when 2am rolled around and she still wasn’t done.

“Good morning to you to sunshine,” he would say after you vigorously knocked on the tacky, brick colored door. You would simply push past him into the room and throw yourself onto his twin bed while his own roommate remained fast asleep. Aaron--you ended up learning his name about six months after you started regularly crashing in their dorm-- was one of the loudest snorers you think you’d ever met but at least you had a bed.

“We’re so moving into our own place next year,” you would say as he shuffled into the bed, his feet situated where your head was and vice versa. Of course, it took you both another whole year to actually accomplish this dream but, somehow, you managed it.

Now, it was the summer before what was supposed to be your senior year--JJ was sure he wasn’t going to be graduating this year due to the fact that he’d failed more than a couple classes and you already knew you were going stay here as long as he was--and you were days away from starting an internship at Maybank Industries.

When you had originally applied for the internship, you had no idea it was JJ’s older brother who ran the company. You both thought it was just some funny coincidence. The fact that it was called Maybank Industries was what made JJ so adamant on you applying in the first place. Now, less than a week before your first day, you were forced to come to terms with the fact that you’d be working under the same Jesse Maybank you’d known since grade school.

Jesse had been in high school by the time you and JJ had really gotten close. He’d already seemingly maxed out his height at 6’4 and his blond hair was shaggy and often stuck to his forehead when he got home lacrosse practice. He was the first boy you’d ever had a crush on. The 8 year age gap didn’t really phase second grade you.

“I’m going to shoot myself on Monday. My sleep schedule is so fucked,” you groaned as you shuffled out of your bedroom to see JJ sprawled out on the love seat in your living room with a half eaten bowl of Frosted Flakes on the coffee table in front of him. You squinted as you read the digital clock on the microwave. 1:17 blinked back at you in bright red numerals.

“Morning, sunshine,” JJ said. You didn’t know how or when it had happened but he had managed to develop healthier sleeping habits than you. Waking up before noon sounded like hell to you and he’d done it three times this week.

“Fuck off,” you said, moving his feet so that you could sit down before setting them back on your lap. He grabbed the bowl of soggy cereal and took a bite. A shudder ran through your body as you faked a gag.

“Oh don’t be like that. It’s not my fault I don’t shovel my Frosted Flakes down my throat at hyper speed,” he said before setting it back down. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this argument and you were sure it wasn’t going to be the last.

“It’s how they’re supposed to be consumed. It should be considered a war crime to let them get all…” another fake gag. “Soggy.”

“Whatever. You’re just jealous because I’m able to retain the quality crunch the entire time,” you said. You focused your gaze on the small flat screen mounted to the wall to see that JJ had put on some crime drama. Probably Law & Order.

“So, who’s the killer?” you asked after a few moments of silence passed. The rest of the day passed like this; you and JJ managed to get through 6 episodes of SVU before you decided it was probably time to get up and do something productive. And by something productive you meant get dressed enough and go out to grab take out.

By the time your Monday morning alarm rolled around, you realized you should have attempted to regulate your sleep schedule a hell of a lot sooner than two nights before you were forced to get up at 5am. You flicked on your overhead light with a groan before starting your morning routine--well, some semblance of a morning routine since you really hadn’t done one since school ended.

The drive to Downtown Chapel Hill wasn’t long. Well, it shouldn’t have been long but for some reason it felt like everyone and their mother was out on the interstate this morning. You were just desperately hoping you weren’t late on your first day as you tried to push your car past 25 mph.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to Jesse as you found yourself in a standstill on the roadway once again. You knew he wasn’t going to look like the boy you remembered but deep down you wish he was. Nothing could ever replace the 19 year old boy in your mind with his crystalline blue eyes and a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees.

A horn sounded behind you, pulling you from your day dream, “Fuck, sorry!”

At least you were going the posted speed limit now.

By the time you saw the Maybank Industries building coming into view, you were ten minutes away from being on time, eleven from being late. You could feel your anxiety rising in the back of your throat as you glanced back and forth from the road to the digital clock in your car.

“Mr. Maybank?” you asked tentatively through the frosted glass of his office door fifteen minutes later. You couldn’t help but picture that 19 year old opening the door and pulling you into a hug. That was if he even remembered you enough to pull you into a hug. And if he wasn’t pissed about his new intern being late.

“Come in,” he said. Wow, his voice was a lot deeper than you remember it being. And raspier.

You took in his whole office as you pushed open the door. The first thing you noticed was the gold plated nameplate with ‘Jesse Maybank’ engraved in bold letters with ‘CEO Maybank Industries’ in a finer print beneath it. Next you took in the view of downtown Chapel Hill out of the floor to ceiling windows behind his desk.

“Good Morning,” you said in a shaky voice. Sure, he’d been good looking when he left for college all those years ago but nothing could compare to how he looked right now. His shoulders had broadened significantly since he was nineteen and he filled out the white dress shirt he had rolled up to his elbows nicely. You were sure that if you hadn’t been leaning up against the door frame your knees would’ve caved in by now.

He hummed as he looked up from his laptop, finally making eye contact with you, “You must be my new intern.”

“Yes,” you nodded as you shifted your weight onto your other foot. He raised his eyebrows slightly, standing up to walk around the wooden desk and lean against the front of it. You couldn’t help but watch the sleeves of his shirt bulge slightly as he crossed his arms. “Oh, right. I’m Y/N.”

“You seem nervous, Y/N…” he trailed off, obviously expecting a continuation of your name. Surely, he hadn’t forgotten about you completely. You knew you looked different than when you were eleven but the name alone should’ve sparked something.

“Y/L,” you said. At least now you could tell JJ you hadn’t been accepted in his brother’s internship program just because you were his best friend.

“Well, Miss Y/L/C,” he said. “There’s a stack of files on my desk that need to be sorted by lunch today.”

“O-Okay,” you stuttered, slowly pulling yourself off the door frame to pick up the files. You mentally cursed yourself for choosing to wear the tallest heels in your closet this morning. At least they made your legs look good.

“I expect them on my desk before you leave,” he said. You were praising God and anyone else that was up there that you made it back to the door without tripping.

“Yes sir,” you said as you struggled to close the door with the stack of files in your arms. You watched his frame through the frosted glass shuffle around his desk to sit down again. How the fuck were you going to make it through the summer if your heart almost fell out of your ass after one conversation?

The rest of the day passed by interminably slowly. The rest of the interns who had seemingly been at the company for a few years at this point--you didn’t understand why they chose to intern at the same company every summer if they never seemed to get a job out of it--and you felt incredibly out of the loop already. One of the interns, though, was kind enough to bring you a cup of coffee an hour or so after you had gotten there. Scout--you were sure you would forget her name in twenty minutes but she’d been nice enough to introduce herself--had apparently been with the company for the past three years with hope to become a paid intern come next month.

“Thank you. I really needed this,” you had said with a smile. She waved it off with a smile of her own before getting situated at her desk across the small room.

Other than that, though, the day had been boring to say the least. You didn’t know what you were expecting with this internship but sitting at a desk in an office with three other interns doing seemingly nothing for most of the day was not it. After you finished everything you’d needed to do with the files--with a lot a bit of help from the boy sitting next to you--you were forced to just sit at your desk and look like you were doing something productive.

You only had about an hour left in the work day but the coffee Scout had brought you that morning had worn off way past the point of you just being a little sleepy. Another small cup wouldn’t hurt anything. Especially since you’d caught yourself nodding off at your desk three times already. You pushed yourself up from the semi-comfortable desk chair to go look for the break room.

Thankfully, it was only a few doors down from the office you’d been working in all day and the door had been propped open with a door jamb. It only took you a second to realize Jesse was also in the small room. He was leaned up against one of the counter tops, stirring what you guessed was coffee in a stark white mug.

“Looks like you had the same idea as me,” you said softly, picking up a matching mug off the tray as well as one of the many Keurig pods next to it.

“Great minds think alike.” He lifted his mug in greeting before dropping the spoon into the sink. The low ceiling of the kitchen made him look even taller than usual.

It was silent for a few moments while your cup brewed in the machine. You fiddled with your thumbs to pass the time. It didn’t help that you could feel Jesse’s eyes on you the whole time. You didn’t know why he was still in the room, to be honest.

“You know,” he cleared his throat. “I can see your… uh…”

“My what?” you asked, dropping your hands and looking down your body. You were sure you’d worn the right bra this morning. You’d even gotten JJ to check before you walked out the door.

“Your garter belt,” he said. Sure enough, you glanced down at your pencil skirt which was hiked up to your mid thigh, a good two inches of the garter belt on your right leg on display. A rush of embarrassment flooded over you as you turned around, tugging the skirt down your legs.

“I’m so sorry, sir. Won’t happen again,” you sputtered out as you attempted to busy yourself with the tray of mugs. It would only be a few more seconds before your coffee finished and you’d be able to run back to your office.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. You felt your chest tighten at the sound. He exhaled slightly before you heard the rustling of him moving around behind you. You suddenly became hyper aware of just how narrow the kitchen was. His hand was pressed against your waist as he shuffled past you. The size of his hand made sense, he was an incredibly large man, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that the width of his hand spanning half of your torso sent shivers down your spine.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, sir?” you asked once he was fully out the door. He made a half-turn in the door frame, giving you a two finger salute in response.

“See you in the morning, Miss Y/L/N,” he said. You muttered something incoherent as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shaking your head, you grabbed the coffee that had been finished brewing for a solid minute before making your way back to your office.

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