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jungshookz · 3 years

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smitten: y/n's note is in jungkook's bag and she needs to get it back like, right now

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook & smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boo hoo angsty wattpad-energy fic of your dreams!! unrequited love!! it hurts so bad but that's what makes it so good!!

➺ wordcount; 7.1k

➺ summary; y/n realizes her meticulously written i love you note is burning a hole at the bottom of jungkook's bag and the mere thought of him finding it is enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.

➺ what to expect; "well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that."

➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

[previously, on smitten...]

what?

where the hell is it?

you reach into the side pockets and you're disappointed when you end up pulling out old tissues and empty gum wrappers

it's not in the front pocket either — just your keys, a pack of bubblegum, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer

your brows knit together in deep thought as you settle back against your seat, your eyes flickering to the side as you-

you immediately pale

oh my god.

you're positive that your heart stops beating for three whole seconds the moment you realize where exactly the note is — because no, you idiot, you didn't shove it into your own bag earlier-

the note is in jungkook's bag.

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

the next thirty or so minutes of class seem to drag on at a snail's pace and you find yourself checking the time on your phone every five seconds to see when you can finally dart out those doors

your first instinct was to immediately get up and leave because of course you wanted to immediately get up and leave, but with only twenty-ish people in the class and the fact that you're seated near the front... well, it would be a little awkward to just pack up your things and trek up towards the doors without a legitimate excuse (you were tempted to tell your professor that your stomach wasn't feeling very good but the thought of your peers associating you with explosive diarrhea quickly changed your mind)

so, you decided to be a good student and wait it out — but, being perfectly honest, you haven't really been paying much attention to the professor since the thought of you shoving your hi bestie, i'm head-over-heels in love with you note into jungkook's bag instead of yours contaminated your mind five minutes ago

...

you let out a little huff before shaking your head to yourself

how could you be so careless?!

you don't even know how it happened

your bag was sitting on your right thigh, jungkook's bag was sitting on your left thigh... so how the hell did you manage to shove it into his bag??

on the bright side, at least you know where it is, right?

it's in the right side pocket of the bag, so all you have to do is unzip it and stick your hand in and out really quickly without jungkook noticing you rummaging around in his belongings

...but what if he's already read the note?

your foot taps impatiently against the carpeted ground and you reach up and start tugging at your earlobe anxiously, your eyes flickering up towards the dusty analog clock hanging on the wall

c'mon... c'mon...

your grip tightens around your pencil as you continue to trace circles aimlessly on the page, the paper crinkling slightly from the amount of pressure you're putting on it

the stress that's currently eating away at you is probably going to take ten years off your life

"-so, that's pretty much it from me for the day!"

you don't think you've ever been so happy for a class to end as soon as the screen goes black at the front and you waste absolutely no time in packing up

you probably look insane trying to shove your laptop and your notebook into your bag at the same time but you couldn't care less at this point because you need to get the hell out of here

"-please remember to contribute to the discussion threads online... at least four responses, please, and none of those bullshit 'yes, i agree!' responses. i'm definitely not going to count those as participation marks-"

you close your bag with a sharp ziiiip! and you hurry to fold the squeaky desk back into place, a couple of people turning to glance at you for the sudden abundance of clattering and knocking coming from your direction

"excuse me, pardon me-" you pull your backpack on as you step over multiple sets of legs, trying your best not to trample on any feet or knock anyone's tooth out with your bag, "sorry! excuse me-"

you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you jog up the steps two at a time, your brain immediately mapping out the route to the library jungkook said he'd be at

best case scenario: he hasn't found the note and your friendship with him is still very much in tact

worst case scenario: he found the note and is currently reading it at this point in time and your friendship with him is starting to crumble but you still have a chance to swoop in and pick up the pieces

the absolutely worst case ever in the entire world scenario: he's found the note, he's read the note, he's processed the note, and your friendship with him has been completely annihilated and now he's planning to change his name and leave the country so that he doesn't have to confront you about it

you use your shoulder to shove the doors open before bursting out into the open air, ignoring the concerned glances you're starting to receive from your obviously frazzled state

"oh god, oh god, oh god-!" your backpack flops wildly against your back as you rush down the narrow brick steps leading towards the main boulevard

realistically, jungkook's probably found and read the note, so all you have to do is come up with a short monologue about how all of it was fake and that the note was just a sick, twisted prank of some kind

i know that the note makes it seem like i'm telling you that i'm in love with you, but that's not the truth at all!

"woah, watch it-!"

you accidentally knock into someone's shoulder while sprinting down the lane and you turn around for a second just to hold a hand out while flashing the stranger a sheepish smile

"sorry! so sorry-" you turn back around, reaching up to keep your glasses secured on the top of your head as you continue to sprint, your sneakers slapping down against the pavement

as you read in the note, i made a point about how since we're friends, we should be honest with each other... and honestly, there are nothing but lies in the note! and there's a lesson in that, you know? words can be full of lies but we, as human beings, should be full of truths-

"nope, hate that-" you shake your head and immediately scrunch up that mental piece of paper before tossing it into your brain's garbage bin

you'd sound like an obnoxious philosophy student if you hit him with that explanation

it was a prank! i want to start a prank war with you and this is how i'm kicking things off!

that... that could work, right?

that's not bad!

just tell him that you wanted to start a prank war with him so you decided to go big or go home with an i love you, best friend note to see how he would react!

"so stupid-" you mutter to yourself, slowing down to a jog as you approach the doors to the library, "so, so stupid-"

the Super Epic Prank War ROFL XD™ explanation isn't the greatest excuse but it's the best you can do on such short notice

thankfully, it doesn't take you very long to track down jungkook considering the fact he always sits in the same area every time the two of you come here

your feet come to a screeching halt the moment you spot him and you quickly step to the side to hide behind the wall

you slowly lean over a little to peek at him

he has his headphones on and he's busy typing away at his laptop and you can tell he's concentrating really hard because he has that cute frown on his face and occasionally he'll mutter something to himself

jungkook in intense focus mode is something you find to be very endearing :-)

...

you quickly shake your head to snap yourself out of your daze before focusing on jungkook's face again

he certainly doesn't look like he just read an explosive love letter...

you could still be safe!

...for now, that is.

"okay, y/n-" you stand up straight and let out a breath, giving yourself a mental pat on the head in an effort to calm your nerves, "better sooner than later, right? just- you just have to rip it off like a bandaid-"

your anxiety seems to build with every step that brings you closer to jungkook and you can almost hear the jaws theme song playing all around you

da-dum

jungkook, i swear i have a perfectly logical explanation for this...

da-dum

i know the note does a very convincing job of making it seem like i'm in love with you, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

da-dum, da-dum

consider this your initiation into our very serious prank war, my friend!

dadumdadumdumdumbdumbdumbthisissuchadumbdumbidea-

"hi!" you greet a little too enthusiastically, trying your best not to make it seem like you just sprinted across campus to get to him even though you very clearly did

"sorry, seat's reserv- y/n?" jungkook looks up from his laptop before frowning, quickly glancing back down at his screen to check the time as he pulls his headphones off to hang around his neck, "aren't you- didn't your class end, like, literally a minute ago? why are you so- did you run here??" he asks incredulously, getting up from his seat as his brows knit together in concern

"no, no! of course i didn't run here, silly- oh, god, give me a sec-" you wheeze, bending down and gripping onto the back of the wooden chair in front of you as you try to catch your breath, your chest still falling and rising at a concerning pace from the physical stress of sprinting and the mental stress of the current situation, "it was more of a- of a brisk walk, if you think about it- jesus, i think i'm gonna throw up-"

"okay, you need to drink some water- come and sit next to me-" jungkook reaches out to help lead you around the table towards him, "god, i don't know why you thought you had to run over, it's not like i was planning on going anywhere-"

"i'm fine, kook, it's fine-"

"you're, like, literally radiating heat," jungkook turns you around and pulls your bag off your back before pulling out a chair and helping you into it, "and your face is all red!" he frowns, setting your bag down on the table and unzipping it to pull out your water bottle

"my face is always this red!" you force out a casual laugh, waving your hand to dismiss him as you lean back against the seat, "i'm fine, it's fine-"

"shut up and take a sip-" jungkook untwists the cap of your water bottle before shoving it into your hands and gently lifting it up towards your mouth, his head tilting up a little so he can check and see if you're actually drinking anything, "c'mon, hydrate yourself-"

you swallow a couple gulps of water before pulling the bottle away and reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "god, i love water-"

"yeah, i bet." jungkook chuckles, visibly more relieved now that he knows you won't be passing out from exhaustion anytime soon

as you put your water bottle away, your eyes lower towards jungkook's backpack slouching against the leg of his chair and almost immediately the anxiety that you thought you'd just swallowed down bubbles right back up

"so, are you going to tell me why you're acting like the cops are after you?" jungkook jokes, taking his seat before pulling his headphones off and setting them down next to his laptop

"i just, um-" you press your lips together as you slowly start to lean down, stretching your arm out towards the pocket, "i just wanted to see you, buddy!"

"i don't believe that for a second." jungkook snorts, turning to look at you

you shoot straight back up and pull your arm up and behind your head as if you're in the middle of a good stretch, "hey, what's with that tone? it's not a crime for me to want to see you-"

"you saw me at lunch! and that was only like an hour and a half ago-" jungkook turns his head to look back at his screen and you quickly revert back to your mission impossible secret agent mode

the forced smile drops from your face and you lean back down, your fingers blindly feeling for the cool metal of the zipper

"you know, you actually came at just the right time-" jungkook speaks up again and you pause just in case you need to pull away from his bag, but he makes no move to turn and look at you, "ji-eun was about to leave for her class but now you can meet her before she goes off!"

"uh-huh..." your tongue pokes out in concentration as you unzip the pocket in one swift movement, immediately sticking your hand in and feeling around for the balled-up piece of paper, "sounds gre-"

hold on, what did he just say?

you shoot back up

"did you just-" you choke and reach up to pat your chest gently, "i'm sorry, did you just say that ji-eun was here?"

"uh-huh!" jungkook nods, "i didn't know she had a spare at the same time as i did so i was surprised when she came over to say hi- it turns out our schedules are, like, sort of similar which oddly makes me kind of happy-"

it's at that moment that you notice the cherry-patterned tote bag slumped in the chair sitting across from you and you let out a nervous chuckle as you shift in your seat, "great! great, that's so- great, it's great that i'm meeting ji-eun today, out of all days..." you trail off, glancing around warily as you try to come up with some kind of an exit strategy

you're just really not in the mood to meet the love of jungkook's life today

you've already been hit with so many blows and it's only two in the afternoon-

"sorry that took so long! i couldn't find a bin but i bumped into my friends and they said they'd throw it out for me-"

oh, you have got to be kidding me.

your eyes widen in mild panic upon immediately recognizing ji-eun to be the girl who had overheard your entire monologue in the bathroom earlier today — and from the way her eyes flicker, it seems as though she remembers exactly who you are as well

"oh, no worries!" jungkook beams at ji-eun before pointing to you with his thumb, "this is my friend, by the way. the one i was talking about earlier! y/n, this is ji-eun."

you stay quiet as you continue staring up at ji-eun, your mind racing a mile a minute as you consider your current options

you can pretend like you've never met her before or you can make things awkward by telling jungkook that you met her today after she'd emptied her bladder

"...y/n?" jungkook lowers his voice, nudging you with his elbow before letting out a nervous chuckle, "please say something."

"i- yes, hello!" you blurt out, the feet of your chair scraping against the rough carpet as you get up from your seat to stick your hand out towards ji-eun, "it's- ah- it's- it's so nice to meet you! i'm y/n."

ji-eun stays quiet for a second before her lips turn up in a polite smile and she reaches towards you, gently taking your outstretched hand in hers (for the record, her hands are shockingly soft and supple), "it's lovely to meet you... as well, y/n. i love your glasses!"

you can't help but notice the immediate warmth that seems to surround ji-eun and suddenly it makes a lot more sense as to why jungkook's attracted to her

you're about as comforting as stepping into a puddle of water while wearing socks

you feel a slight sense of relief seeing that ji-eun is playing along but your new concern is whether or not she's connected the dots that your monologue in the bathroom was dedicated to jungkook

you didn't actually say his name when you were talking out loud, so you might be able to get away with this...

"oh, these old things?" you reach up to feel the glasses sitting on top of your head before flicking your hand at her, "i bought them on amazon. they're blue-light glasses- i can totally send you the link if you want."

"that would actually be great!" she gasps, nodding enthusiastically, "i desperately need a pair of blue-light glasses- seriously, i stared at my laptop screen for, like, ten hours straight today and i really feel like they're about to roll out of my head-"

"oh my god, don't even get me started. at this point it'd probably feel better to rip them right out of their sockets-"

"ji-eun, you ready?"

"let's gooo, i wanna get an iced coffee before we head off to class."

you and ji-eun don't get a chance to continue bonding over the pain of sore eyes when you're suddenly interrupted by two new voices

you look up to see two guys approaching the table and you subtly push your seat back a bit as you prepare yourself to say hello again

"oh! yeah, i'm ready, sorry-" ji-eun gestures towards you with a smile, "this is- this is jungkook's friend, by the way. y/n, these are my friends."

"hi, hello-" you get up from your seat again to stick your hand out, offering the two (very handsome, might you add) strangers a friendly smile, "i'm y/n, jungkook's friend- but you- you already knew that because that's what ji-eun just said-"

"i'm taehyung! you can call me tae-" the corners of taehyung's mouth immediately raise in a bright grin and he gives your hand a firm shake before nodding next to him, "and this is jimin!"

"hi..." you trail off, turning to give jimin a handshake as well, "so nice to meet you!"

"oh, i just- i actually just washed my hands, so-" jimin chuckles, looking down at your hand before taking a small step back, "but it's nice to meet you... jungkook's friend."

ooh

is it just you or did it suddenly get a little icy in here?

"oh, no problem! um, yeah, you too." you pull your hand back before swallowing nervously and forcing the polite smile back on your face, "i like your jacket, by the way! it looks really cool."

maybe it's because he's wearing giant sunglasses indoors but you can't help but feel slightly intimidated by jimin

you can't see his eyes but you can certainly feel them on you and you're definitely getting the vibe that jimin is already not the biggest fan of you for some weird reason

"thank you." he responds curtly, smoothing a hand over the leather before looking down at ji-eun, "so can we go now?"

"mhm!" ji-eun gets up from her chair before pushing it back into place, pulling her tote back up onto her shoulder before flashing a sweet smile at jungkook, "see you later, alligator."

"in a while, crocodile!" jungkook responds enthusiastically, watching with twinkly eyes as she turns and heads off towards the exit with jimin and taehyung glued at either side of her

god

she even walks prettily

and you were literally clomping down the boulevard like a feral caveman a second ago

you wait until they've disappeared to turn and face jungkook with a raised eyebrow, "...jimin was kind of a bitch."

"hey, play nice!" jungkook frowns, reaching over to give your arm a gentle whack, "he's a fashion major! ji-eun says being snooty is part of the degree requirements-" he grins, shaking his head slightly before leaning back against his chair, "she's, like, super funny."

"mm." you hum, still feeling a little uneasy about your interaction with jimin

you just hate it when first meetings don't go well and that first meeting definitely wasn't super great

but it wasn't like you did anything wrong, right?

you were great!

snooty jimin was the one who was being rude

whatever

hopefully you won't have to hang out with him too often if jungkook and ji-eun become an item

maybe you can just stick with taehyung!

he seems to be a lot friendlier

"oh, by the way, i-" you're suddenly reminded of your main mission and you turn to point down at jungkook's bag, "it's not a big deal, but i- i accidentally shoved something in your bag earlier and- could i just get it back from you?"

"you did?" jungkook frowns, leaning down to pick his bag up before unzipping it all the way and pulling both flaps open, "what was it?"

"it was- uh- just some notes on a scrap piece of paper!" you immediately feel the weight lift from your shoulders at jungkook's cluelessness to the situation, "i put it in the right side pocket-"

"wait, are you talking about, like, a balled up thing of paper?" jungkook pauses before looking up at you with wide eyes, "oh, shit- was it important??"

"um, i wouldn't call it important-" you snort, shaking your head, "is it not there? i swore it was in the right side pocket-"

"no, no, it was there! it was there, i just- ji-eun needed to spit her gum out and i thought it was one of my scrap pieces of paper-" jungkook winces, grabbing his phone and unlocking it with fumbling fingers, "i'm so sorry, y/n- let me text ji-eun and ask her which garbage can she threw it into and i can go dig it out-"

"no, no, it's okay!" you nearly let out a screech of delight knowing that your note now has a slobbery wad of gum in it and is living at the bottom of a trash can, "it's fine, i just- they were just boring notes for something. i just wanted to see if i had really shoved it into your bag or not."

"oh, okay-" jungkook's shoulders immediately slump and he sets his phone down on the table, "you're sure it wasn't important?"

"100%." you hold both hands out with a chuckle, "i needed to throw it out anyway so i guess ji-eun actually did me a favour-"

"okay, phew." jungkook sighs, zipping his bag back up and plopping it back down on the ground next to his feet, "anyways- i'm actually glad you're here because now you can help me plan out my date! i was working on it but then ji-eun came and obviously i couldn't have that google doc open in front of her-" he turns his laptop to show you all of his hard work with a grin, "check it out! i have a list of things i need to buy, i have outfit ideas, i even went on pinterest for inspiration-"

"wow, kook-" your eyes bulge out for a second at the sight of the extensive and shockingly organized google doc before you reach over to pull his laptop closer towards you, "i... i really don't think i've ever seen you... even make a google doc before-"

he even has the sunset time written down for the date

why would he need to know what time the sun is setting??

"i have everything planned for next week." jungkook pulls his laptop back to him as you settle back against your seat, "i already emailed my landlord to ask if i would even be allowed to hang out on the rooftop and he said it would be fine! he also reminded me to keep a brick wedged between the door so that i don't lock us up on the rooftop-"

"so you're definitely going with the rooftop picnic, then?"

"oh, i'm actually changing it to a rooftop dinner instead of a picnic." jungkook shakes his head before giving you a half-hearted shrug, "i think a picnic is cute but i really wanna try to impress her, y'know? i ordered this thing on amazon just now- basically, it's a medium-sized inflatable bubble tent! the description says it's perfect for two people and- i'm gonna, like-" he pauses and looks away from his screen towards you with a smile, "well, you know, i'm gonna do what you said and i'm gonna stuff it full of blankets and pillows and... hopefully i can string up fairy lights and stuff on the inside... so that after the date we can go in there and just talk and not have to worry about getting attacked by mosquitos!"

"wow, that's-" you cross your arms over your chest before leaning back and looking up towards the ceiling, "huh. that's actually a cute idea, kook. i wouldn't have been able to come up with something like that. i didn't even know transparent tents existed."

"i know." jungkook gives you a smug little smile before bursting into a grin, "but yeah, that's it! all we have to do is go and pick up all the supplies and stuff."

"we?" you frown, looking back down at jungkook, "i... wasn't aware i was part of this plan..."

"what? of course you are!" jungkook snorts, looking at you as if a third eye just sprouted from your forehead, "obviously you have to help me-"

"well, i just don't know if that's-" you chuckle uneasily as you rub the back of your neck, "i really- i don't wanna get in your way, you know? maybe you should- maybe you should just take care of all of this yourself! i mean, you basically planned everything already-"

"what? but- but you're my-" jungkook deflates and you instantly feel bad upon seeing his eyes suddenly turn sad, "okay..."

you press your lips together and wait for him to say something else but the next few seconds are filled with nothing but awkward silence and the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights hanging above you

you'd jump off a cliff if jungkook asked you to but helping him prepare and set up his date is something that you,.., definitely would not enjoy.,.,

but then again, this isn't about you, is it?

this is about jungkook, your friend, and he needs your help to set up this very important date that-

oh, damnit.

"i'm-" you clear your throat as you sit up in your seat, reaching over to give jungkook's hand a pat, "no, of course i'll help, kook. i just thought that- well, this date seems so important to you that i thought you wanted to take care of all the details yourself!"

the bright smile immediately returns to jungkook's face and you resist the urge to call him out on so blatantly guilt-tripping you like that-

"yes! you're the best!"

"i know."

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

although you and jungkook are practically inseparable on campus (and some would say it might be healthy for the two of you to give each other a little bit of space) — you don't think you'll ever say no to hanging out with him downtown

of course, hanging out with jungkook downtown would be a lot more fun if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have basically spent the entire day shopping for all the things he needs for his date

and if it weren't for the fact that he paid for lunch and treated you to a cake pop and a venti-sized iced coffee, you would probably be livid about having to carry everything for him because you really feel like your arms are about to pop right off in about two seconds

fancy cutlery, porcelain plates, fluffy throw pillows, a giant blanket, fairy lights... at this point he might as well buy an entire house for ji-eun

and look, you know you probably sound bitter and that-should-be-me about this whole situation, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

it's just that listening to someone you like gushing about the person that they like for an entire day while you're carrying bags full of things for their date can get a little mentally and physically exhausting so if you're grouchy right now it's really not your fault

"i think we might have to call an uber back to your place, jungkook-" you mutter, adjusting the hefty tote bag over your shoulder with a grunt as you trail behind him on the sidewalk, "bringing all of this on the bus is going to piss people off-"

you stumble over your feet a little when the bag in your right hand knocks into a garbage can and you curse to yourself while resisting the urge to kick the damn thing over

"okay, grumpy, we'll call an uber home-" jungkook spins around with a smile before raising the notepad in his hand and tapping against it with his pen, "i just have one more thing i have to take care of and then we can go!"

"okay, well-" you set the bags down onto the ground with a fwump! before rubbing your sore palms together, "what else do you have to get?"

jungkook offered to help carry a couple of things but you insisted that you'd take it all and that he should just focus on ticking off all of the items on his list

you wince at the sight of the pinkish-red imprints now embedded into your palms from the straps of the bags

obviously you've now come to regret your generous offer

"flowers!" jungkook chirps, using his pen to point to the flower shop a couple of shops down, "i have to greet ji-eun with a bouquet of flowers as pretty as she is-"

"yeah, i understand-" you adjust the two bags on both shoulders before bending down to pick up the other two on the ground, "also, i'm not a genius or anything but i'm pretty sure the flowers aren't going to survive until the date if you buy them now-"

"duh, obviously not- i'm going to place an order now and then pick them up on the day of the date!" jungkook tsks, waiting for you to join his side before he begins walking towards the flower shop, "thanks for doing all of this for me, by the way. you really are the best." he hums, hurrying over to open the door for you

"i... yeah, of course, kook." you feel yourself soften slightly as soon as you see the sweet little smile on his face and you quickly scold yourself in your head for being so curt with him all day, "that's what friends are for, right?"

"mhm!" jungkook slaps his hands down on your shoulders from behind before giving them a squeeze, "and i am so letting you choose whatever you want for dinner tonight-"

"hello!"

"oh, jesus-" you and jungkook are immediately greeted by an overenthusiastic employee as soon as you step into the shop and you honestly probably would've knocked him out with one of your shopping bags if they weren't so heavy-

"are you two looking for anything in particular?" he smiles kindly before gesturing towards the large selection of flowers all around you, "we have flowers of all kinds! roses, tulips, lilies- i can even show you flowers from our new tropical selection-"

"actually-" jungkook nudges you aside before glancing down at the employee's nametag, "seokjin, i'd like to place an order for a custom bouquet, if that's okay."

"ah, a custom bouquet!" seokjin claps his hands and rubs them together enticingly, "what are you celebrating? i need to know so that i can help pick out the perfect flowers for your bouquet."

"well, i don't know if it's a celebration-" jungkook chuckles, his cheeks pinking slightly as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, "it's for a first date."

"a first date!!" seokjin gasps excitedly before turning his head to look at you, "you must be so-"

"-oh, not for me!" you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, "it's- it's definitely not for me. i'm just here to provide moral support and-" you lift one of the bags to show him, "muscular support."

"ah, i see... okay, well- why don't i take you around and introduce you to the different candidates you could consider for your bouquet?" seokjin turns back to look at jungkook, "each flower you choose will be very important in showing your future lover how much you care about them-" he pauses when he notices you hovering behind jungkook and he leans over a little with a bright smile, "why don't you go and wait by the front counter, darling? you can put everything down there and take a little break. there's some cucumber water and fresh puff pastry apple roses up at the front if you're interested!"

"well, i can't say no to free food." you snort, nodding before turning to head towards the front counter, "i'll just wait for you over there, then..."

you nearly let out a moan of relief as soon as you set all the bags down and you twist your upper body to the right and to the left until you feel the a satisfying pop! of your spine cracking back in place

your body was not made to carry heavy things

in fact, you'd like to argue that your body was made to lie down and do nothing

you take a seat on the wooden stool before turning to look at the apple roses sitting prettily in the display case and you almost feel like you shouldn't touch them even though seokjin offered them to you

even the pitcher of cucumber water looks too nice to touch

this place is awfully fancy

you didn't even know flower shops could be this fancy

you prop both elbows up on the counter before leaning back comfortably, your eyes lazily scanning around the store

"$15 for a single rose?" you gawk at the little wooden sign poking out from a large bouquet of neatly wrapped long-stem roses before making a face, "god."

you can't even imagine how much a custom bouquet is going to cost if a single rose is fifteen bucks

"-also write a note for you and attach it to the bouquet, if you're interested in that. it'll be an additional five dollars, but we handwrite it on the highest quality card stock with the most beautiful calligraphy and we even spray it with perfume-"

you perk up when you hear seokjin's voice and you look to see him and jungkook coming over to you

you have to admit that seokjin is great at his job because he's doing a good job at milking every dollar out of jungkook-

"yeah, that would be great!" jungkook nods enthusiastically, pulling his backpack off before unzipping it to grab his wallet, "i think a small note might be cute-"

"oh, that reminds me!" seokjin stops in his tracks right as he's about to lift the wooden slab to get behind the counter, "would you be interested in purchasing a teddy bear as well? if you add a teddy bear to your order, i'll give you a slight discount on the flowers."

"ooh, a discount!" jungkook gasps and you turn your head slightly so seokjin won't see you rolling your eyes at how much he's forcing jungkook to buy

you respect the hustle but this is too much

"where are the teddy bears?"

"right by the flowers!" seokjin smiles, wrapping an arm around jungkook's shoulders and spinning him around, "we can round back and take a look-"

"okay, i think i have to cut in here-" you chuckle, reaching out and grabbing the back of jungkook's elbow, "you don't- you don't think a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear is a little too much for a first date?" you clear your throat quietly before offering a shrug, "i feel like that's just... a lot, kook. i mean, i would be overwhelmed if-"

"well, i guess it's a good thing i'm not taking you out on a date then, right?" jungkook teases, wiggling his arm out of your grip before turning back to look at seokjin, "onward to the bears, my good man!"

ouch

"yeah." you can't help but frown as jungkook and seokjin head back towards the flowers, "thanks for the reminder."

"that's gotta hurt."

"god-" you jump at the sudden appearance of an employee standing behind the counter and you place a hand over your chest before letting out a breath, "you scared me!"

"sorry." he shrugs, "we polished the floors this morning so my shoes are making, like, no noise."

"oh."

a moment of silence passes while you turn to face away from him again, but all of a sudden-

"so he really can't tell that you like him, huh?"

"you-" you immediately straighten up and your head spins around so fast that you're surprised you didn't complete decapitate yourself, "excuse me??"

"what? it's obvious." the employee snorts, spraying cleaner onto the counter before reaching up to yank the tattered rag off his shoulder, "it's painfully obvious, actually-"

you can feel your entire face starting to go red as this complete stranger continues to rip you a new one and you hold a hand out to shut him up, "no offense, but i-i don't think this is any of your business, sir-"

"it's yoongi." yoongi looks down at his apron for a second before frowning, "huh. i forgot to put my dumb name tag on again-"

"well, yoongi-" you place emphasis on his name in an effort to intimidate him and make him go away, "you don't know what you're talking about and i suggest you mind your own business-"

"you should tell him before it's too late." yoongi doesn't seem to be all that affected by your biting tone and you roll your eyes at the way he rounds back to the topic

"what are you even talking about?"

"well, i assume you're going to be his best man at his wedding. from the way it's looking, you're certainly not going to be the bride," yoongi purses his lips as he folds up the rag into a neat little square, "you don't wanna wait until you're fixing his tie at the wedding to tell him that you love him."

"what makes you think i lo-" you cut yourself off quickly before that word slips out of your mouth, "like him?"

"if you didn't, you wouldn't be here right now." yoongi points out with a tilt of his head, "and from how smudgy your eyeliner is, it looks like you've been working hard all day."

your jaw drops slightly and you can't help but scoff

the nerve of this guy!

"who do you think you are?!"

"i'm yoongi." yoongi raises a brow, "i told you that like a second ago- wow, you are not a good listener-"

"do you usually do this with all of the customers who come here?" you interrupt, crossing your arms defensively before leaning in slightly, "you're awfully nosy-"

"i only do this with the ones that seem to have something juicy going on." yoongi hums, leaning down to put the spray bottle of cleaner under the counter, "this is a flower shop. the most exciting part of my day is watching a bumblebee choose which flower to land on."

"well, nothing juicy is going on here so-" you twist back around before sticking your nose up in the air slightly, "sorry to disappoint."

"alright, fair enough." yoongi nods to himself, letting out a sigh as he slowly backs away from the counter, "i guess i'll just leave you to... wallow in self-pity... and continue staring at your friend with cartoon hearts floating around your head-"

"'you should tell him before it's too late-'" you swivel around and slap both your palms down on the counter, "why would you- why would even say something like that?! i can't tell him. are you insane?!"

a smirk twitches at the corner of yoongi's mouth at your sudden confession and he lets out a sigh before stepping back up towards you, "and why can't you tell him?"

"because- i just can't! he's-" you clear your throat before leaning in and lowering your voice, "he's literally taking someone else out on a date- we're here to buy flowers for his date-"

"so what?" yoongi interrupts, "it's just a date. it's not like you're stopping his wedding."

"so what? because he doesn't like me back, so what's the point?" you hiss, resisting the urge to reach over and smack some common sense into this very nosy and very stubborn stranger, "this isn't a romantic comedy- and even if it was, i'm very obviously not the main character-"

"you don't know that he doesn't like you back."

...

well now he's just toying with you

"i... i can't tell if you're kidding or not-"

"do i look like i'm kidding?" yoongi asks, pointing to his poker face before shaking his head, "you don't know that he doesn't like you back. you've obviously never asked him."

"oh, please." you scoff, turning around to lean back against the counter again, "trust me, i know it."

"well, did he ever explicitly say that he didn't like you?" yoongi leans over to peek at jungkook over your shoulder, "do you have a definitive answer to this particular question?"

"no, but he doesn't have to... we're just friends." you frown, your eyes wandering over to the back of jungkook's head, "he doesn't like me. i know he doesn't. we're just friends."

we're just friends.

(saying it out loud is a lot more depressing than you thought it'd be.)

"well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that," yoongi suggests, your head tilting to the side slightly as you force yourself to consider his surprisingly wise words, "it's obvious that you have a solid friendship so it would suck if a relationship ruined that- so maybe he does like you and is only asking someone else out to try to force himself not to like you..."

you feel your heart skip a beat when jungkook turns to glance at you over his shoulder with a soft smile while seokjin continues rattling off about the vast choice of teddy bears available for purchase

you bite back a giggle when he mouths a desperate 'help' at you before raising his hand and twirling his finger next to his head to tell you that seokjin is fully crazy

"...so i guess what i'm trying to say is that you're never really going to know how he feels about you if you don't ask him," you tune back in to the end of yoongi's little speech and you turn your head slightly to glance back at him, "but what do i know, right? i just polish counters at high-end flower shops."

🎙️tell jungkook he's being an idiot or tell y/n to get a backbone (send in an ask!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like smitten!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation.

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right.

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #laisse tomber les filles #the devil all the time #college au #au

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anotheranimestan · 4 years

Text

Steamy Nights

Shouta Aizawa steaminess + suggestive language

Please note that y/n is obviously of age in this one

wc: 2.4k

Tell me why I got 🦋 when writing this loll. This man is fineee

Stretched out on Aizawa’s couch, you were waiting for him to get home after another long day of teaching. A little while ago he’d given you a key to his place, which was a big surprise since he values his privacy so much. Since you hadn’t been able to see him for a few days, you figured tonight would be the perfect time to use it. Work was really taxing on him lately and you knew he was stressed. Probably over stressed. To make the most of the night, you decided to set the atmosphere.

The apartment already had Shouta’s personality all over it. Lots of dark furniture and wood. Absolutely no harsh lighting, just a few dim lamps. His walls were scattered with some paintings he’d bought on your art show dates together. Old books and blankets everywhere. His sweet cat usually curled up in her corner.

He had a drawer full of scented candles. Your favorite was the cinnamon one but he claims it’s too sweet for him. Although you highly doubted he’d even notice the difference, he just holds random stubborn opinions sometimes without any good reason behind it. Just wanting things to complain about. Most people found his pessimistic grumpy attitude unattractive but...he’s just moody. An exterior shell. Inside was was soft and sweet.

You’d just finished lighting a few of the cinnamon candles and putting on some of his favorite music in the background when you heard the door click open.

He’s always so light on his feet. Sometimes if you weren’t paying close attention he’d come in and scare the life out of you on accident.

You rounded the corner, excited to see him.

“Hey Eraserhead.”

You always called him by is pro name when he’s in his hero costume. People usually assumed it was out of respect or privacy but he knew the real reason. You were teasing him. You disliked his hero name and his hero outfit. Recalling the day Present Mic convinced him to use it, you’d pestered him relentlessly to put more effort into it. Insisting he’d regret it one day. He said he didn’t care...but now look at him.

“Please y/n, when are you going to stop calling me that?” He said rubbing his eyes. He was low energy as usual.

“After you change it.”

“I can’t change it.”

“Exactly.” You whispered smugly.

He sighed. No matter how many times you had this conversation you would always win. Rightfully but he wouldn’t admit it.

You drifted over to greet him properly. Brushing the hair out of his eyes and placing a sweet lingering kiss on his cheek.

And as for his boring, baggy costume...you understood it’s purpose. He wore it to stand out less, aiding in his fight style. But it was still a pain since you couldn’t properly hug him in it. The capture weapon was always in your face and you could hardly feel his body through the layers.

His modest attire duped most people. Making his tastefully well built body underneath a best kept secret. Which you supposed was an upside. Only you (and Present Mic for some reason) had ever really gotten to see him shirtless.

“I’m going to change.” He said kissing your forehead. He knew exactly what you were thinking.

He reemerged from his room a few minutes later. Wearing a droopy black shirt and sweatpants that were loose around his hips. You could see the dipped lines of his V. Just north was his lightly defined six pack. And just south was unfortunately concealed under black briefs and his untied waistband...

He caught you staring.

Feeling red and exposed you quickly redirected your attention to something else. “So are you hungry babe? I could make something?”

He declined.

“Okay...what about grading assignments. Do you want help to make it go faster?”

Declined again. Apparently he worked straight through lunch to finish that already.

You were beginning to feel useless. You’re supposed to be making him de-stress but it’s like he was so self-sufficient there was no room for you.

You sat next to him on the couch, his arm wrapped around you. You brushed some hair behind his ear. His long dark hair was always messy from his constant naps. Plus, you constantly running your fingers in it doesn’t help that situation. He was quiet. Massaging his temples. You could see the tension on his face. It made your heart twinge with pain. Just then you noticed his ear fully. He had at least six piercings on this one but he wasn’t wearing any of his earrings. Usually he’d put them on when he wasn’t at work but he didn’t tonight. And you knew exactly why.

“Babe. I have an idea.”

“And what’s that?” He played along.

He would take them out when he secretly wanted one of your amazing head massages. You always focus on his ears and temples just like he liked so he’d left out his earrings hoping you’d get the hint. This man could never just ask for something in his life. Luckily you could read him like a book.

“Come on.” You purred. Pulling him with both hands off the couch. He complied wearily.

Aizawa didn’t spend much of the money he made from pro hero work on lavish things. The only times he splurged was to buy you nice gifts. However, you did convince him to purchase one nice thing for himself. You knew he wanted it anyways but was just too stubborn to actually buy it.

A jacuzzi tub. He loves hot baths after a day of dealing with his “problem children” students. It was the only thing that could get his muscles to relax. And the moisture from the steam felt nice on his eyes.

Making sure to bring a candle and the speaker with, you lured him into the bathroom.

“Want to take a bath with me?” You asked sweetly.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” A tiny smile spread on his lips. You were too irresistible to deny.

“Okay you run it and I’ll go get the wine.” You sang excitedly. “But don’t make it so hot. You almost burnt my skin off last time.”

“It felt normal to me.” He said casually.

“Yea because you’re a psychopath.” You quipped before springing to the kitchen.

You guys had two types of favorite wine. One was for your long deep discussions about art and literature. Or when asks for your advice on dealing with his students because he knows he’d just lose his temper and expel them without your ideas. And the other, the pricier and far more potent one, was saved for special moments. Just like these. You poured your glass full, of course, but you filled his to the tippy top. Not only did he need it, but Lord knows tipsy Aizawa was sexy.

When you returned, he was crouched over testing the water temperature. His face gently lit from the soft glow of the candle in the dark room.

“I made sure to cool it off. No psychopaths here.” He teased trying to sound bored. But his voice was noticeably happier than when he’d arrived.

You instructed him to take a few sips of wine, desperate to get that show rolling.

“I know what you’re doing.” He said with an amused little smile. He swapped the cups in your hands so you now claimed the full one.

“Good. So then you should know exactly how to play along.” You said as you switched the glasses back with a wink.

He sighed in defeat. But that rare smile was still adorning his cheeks. He took a few y/n-approved size drinks.

His hair was falling into his eyes again. You set your glass down on the tub edge and pulled him into you. He wrapped his arms around your waist while you pushed his hair back and secured it in a clip.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” He said softly.

“I know. Now that I have a key I wanted to come bother you a bit.”

His eyebrow raised at the word bother.

You panicked slightly. Hoping he wasn’t actually bothered that you’d come uninvited.

“That does sound like you.” He said as he kissed your nose. “I hope you do it more often.”

Your heart spasmed.

“Really? You do?” Your insecurities ears’ perked up.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” He said in his deep sleepy voice.

A happy little smile broke its way through. You could only shrug in response.

You slipped your hands under his shirt and pulled it up slowly. Dragging your knuckles along the dips and bumps of his abs as you went. Gently you pulled it over his head. He helped by raising his arms which just made the rest of his muscles flex. Your heart started beating a little faster. No matter how many times you saw him he always made you flustered.

Your eyes were glued on him. His tattoos were now completely visible. Another best kept secret. They trailed around his shoulder, back and half his chest. You placed some honeyed kisses on his collar bones as you pulled down his sweatpants and briefs to leave him fully undressed. He was mouthwatering type sexy. The candlelight was highlighting all his high points in the best possible way. The music was perfectly complimenting your emotions and the sleepy eyes staring at you so lovingly were severely compromising your thought process. There were a lot of things you wanted to do with him suddenly but you focused your eyes on the goal here. A relaxing, hot bath.

Bath bath bath.

Reluctantly containing yourself you pried his hands off your waist and nudged him towards the water.

“Okay okay, go on.”

“You’re coming too right?” He said as he grazed your bottom lip with his thumb.

You nodded, butterflies erupting in your tummy.

He laid down in the water and took some more large swigs of wine. His glass was half empty before you’d even taken your first sip. He watched you undress with intent in his eyes, soaking in every curve and dip of you as well. He reached an arm out to you once you’d fully unclothed. He wanted his hands on you immediately.

But you had a goal here. Bath. Massage. Focus.

You slipped in behind him so that he laid between your legs. His broad shoulders nearly covered your whole body when he leaned back against you.

The tub was huge. Easily fit you both and could probably add another person.

“And now for my favorite part.” You announced as you switched the tub on its low setting. The rumbling under the water sending tiny vibrating waves around the whole tub.

Definitely worth spending his money.

Your hands rubbed every inch of him you could reach. His abs, the thick muscular sides of his waist, his biceps. You alternated between hugging his neck whispering cute things in his ear and massaging him.

Of course he was practically falling asleep as you spent time on his ears and temples. His head was heavy against your chest. It was so cute. You loved when he fell asleep on you.

But you knew he was keeping himself awake. He was rubbing your legs and the backs of your thighs. Squeezing and kneading them gently. Placing kisses on your arms and hands whenever he got the chance.

After about 20 minutes and one refresh of hot water, both your glasses were empty. He’d drank most of it since he’d downed the last few sips of yours too.

Wanting to see his handsome face again you shifted and positioned yourself to sit on his lap, thighs wrapped snuggly around his waist. After making sure you were fully comfortable, he leaned back against the tub and closed his eyes. He pulled you close and trailed circles with his fingertips up and down your back under the warm water. He loved the weight of you on him. You both exhaled a deep stress relieving breath.

The steam was working its magic, the rumbling of the jets felt so good massaging your legs. And his heart beat, you could feel it through his chest. It was slow and steady. Making you drowsy off him.

He noticed you were lost in thought, stroking his hair and tracing your fingers along the lines of his tattoo. He took advantage of this time to soak in all your features, watching you under drooping lashes. The flush of your cheeks, the delicate arrangement of your beauty marks. The far off expression on your face, he knew it well. He loved observing you when you were like this. You were beautiful.

“Relaxed yet?” You purred. Starting to tease him with soft kisses.

“Almost there.” He replied before catching you to deepen the kiss. Your soft skin and body heat was melting him away. He wanted more. Using both hands he pressed your back into it.

He savored your lips for a long while, becoming more and more passionate as the seconds ticked by and the wine hit his bloodstream.

You felt him shifting underneath you. Squirming slightly from the pressure that was building up. More butterflies. His hands clamped down around your hips.

“Okay your plan worked.” He smiled into your kiss. Eyes still closed.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re referring to.”

He tapped his finger against the empty wine glasses.

You started sucking on the sensitive spot under his ear. You knew tipsy Shouta always got turned on by that.

His arms both constricted tightly around your waist. His hips were pressing up into you now with impatience.

“Let’s go to my room.” He concluded. You giggled, causing your lips to vibrate against his sweet spot. You heard the soft moan from deep in his throat.

He stood up keeping you wrapped tightly around him, carrying you with ease.

He half-heartedly patted you both down with a towel, his hand not losing contact with your ass for a second.

Before he could whisk you out of the bathroom you grabbed the speaker and candle again.

The scent wafted into the air around you.

“Mm that smells good.” He said distracted for only a moment before his lips gravitated to your body again.

“Oh really. So you do like it.” You said with the smuggest tone. “You’ll never guess what scent it is Shouta.”

He didn’t reply. Too distracted with kissing your shoulders.

“Cinnamon.” You said with as much sass and emphasis as you could muster.

He paused. Caught. How did you always get him like this?

He pulled back rolling his eyes with a smile. Nose to nose now, you pressed him further with a smirk.

He cocked an eyebrow at you. Looking directly in your eyes he said, “Mhm. Keep this same energy when I take you in there.”

And just like that he’d knocked down your resolve and your whole body started fluttering.

He carried you into his bed and you two “relaxed” for the rest of the night.

😳 the way I want to be y/n.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa imagine #aizawa fluff #aizawa smut #aizawa headcanons #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #aizawa sexy #aizawa sensei #aizawa fanart #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa drabble #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa angst #shouta aizawa x reader #mha shouta #shouta fluff

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ssahotchhner · 3 years

Text

reckless endangerment

the reader can't let go of the trauma of aaron being kidnapped and tortured six months ago.

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: kidnapping, torture, smut, dom!hotch

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

It was stupid to jump on the helicopter that contained at least two terrorists as it took off that roof in Manhattan. Even stupider that you had done it alone, Aaron’s voice screaming for you from behind. You weren’t sure he would forgive you for this if you survived so you supposed it was a good thing you weren’t planning on surviving.

Why did you jump on the helicopter, you may ask, and that would be a reasonable question. Perhaps it was your hero complex finally getting the better of you, knowing the helicopter was planning on flying straight into the Empire State Building, loaded with explosives. Or perhaps it was because these terrorists were part of a group that had tortured Aaron for hours a few months ago when he was on assignment in Pakistan and you had always believed fully in revenge. Aaron did not, he was much better than you.

“Hold your fire!” Aaron had yelled when it was clear you weren’t getting off that helicopter, “Federal agent on board!”

“With all due respect, sir, but you said that helicopter was headed for the Empire State Building where there are thousands of tourists and--”

“I said hold your fire.” Aaron snarls at the leader of the SWAT team. He knows he’s being ridiculous, letting emotion cloud his judgement, but how can he let them blow up a helicopter that you’re on? And why the fuck had you jumped on it in the first place?

The SWAT agent glared at him, “That helicopter gets within a hundred yards of the building, I’m ordering my men to shoot it down.” And then he walked away.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, the rest of the team not far behind him, “What the hell did she do that for?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He responded. He was furious with you, so much so he couldn’t think straight.

JJ steps closer, the panic evident on her face, “She’s not responding on radio.”

He looks at the rest of the team, all of them one step away from absolutely losing their minds over the fact that one of their own had gone on a suicide mission without consulting any of them, and then he looks back to the helicopter that’s getting smaller and smaller by the second.

***

SIX MONTHS AGO

You take a sip from your glass, “I miss you.” You say to your computer screen.

On that screen, SSA Aaron Hotchner smiles back at you, “I know. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“When you get back,” You say slowly, “Can we… Can we tell them? About us?”

By them, he knew you meant the team. He gets quiet, the smile falling off his face, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Hotch, they’re like our family. I feel terrible keeping things from them. It was fun in the beginning, but I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

He swallows, but then nods, “Okay.”

“Really?”

He smiles, “Yeah, of course. I don’t like hiding you either.”

You’re about to tell him you love him when there are suddenly men in the tent, “Aaron?” He looks around and scrambles for his gun, but he’s too late. One of the men hits him in the side of the head with a blunt object and he’s out, “Aaron!” You yell and then the feed cuts out.

***

It was surprisingly easy to disarm them, you supposed because you had surprised them. You easily knocked the gun away from the one who wasn’t piloting, ducked some of his punches before kicking him square in the chest, causing him to fall down. He hit his head on a hard metal handle on the way down, knocking himself unconscious. The Empire State Building was looming closer and closer and you knew if you didn’t stop it, SWAT would shoot down the helicopter. It would lead to less deaths than crashing directly into the building would, but people would still die from fallen debris. You wouldn’t let that happen. You pointed your gun at the man in the cockpit.

***

“Garcia, is her body cam on?”

“No, sir, but I can turn it on.”

Seconds later, the team was viewing the inside of the helicopter. You had knocked one of the men unconscious and handcuffed him to a handle, but you still had to get control of the helicopter.

“Can you hack the helicopter, Garcia?”

He hears the frantic typing of the technical analyst, but she huffs on the other end, “Not under these time constraints no, by the time I get in it’ll be too late.”

“Agent Hotchner, the snipers have locked in on the target.”

“Just give her another minute.”

“We don’t have another minute.”

He sighs, “She’s about to take control of the cockpit.”

“Does she know how to fly a chopper?”

“She’ll figure it out. Stand down, I won’t say it again.” Hotch’s radio goes silent after that.

***

You waste no time getting the team together and forty minutes later you’re sitting in the conference room, styrofoam cup of coffee warming your hands.

“You were video calling Hotch? At 10 PM?” Reid asks. From anyone else, it would sound accusatory, but you knew he was just genuinely curious.

“10 PM here is 7AM for him. I caught him right before he started his day, wanted to ask him about a case.”

Spencer frowns, “What case?”

Your mouth falls open as you try to fumble for something, but it’s already too late. “I knew it.” Rossi says quietly.

You grind your teeth together, “I’m sorry, is dissecting my love life more important to you guys than finding Hotch after he’s been kidnapped by a terrorist group?” You stand, squashing the empty styrofoam cup in your hand and toss it in the waste bin as you walk out of the room.

Moments later, Spencer’s standing next to you and you immediately feel guilty, “I didn’t mean to pry,” He says, “Honestly, the two of you being romantically involved was the last thing I would have guessed.”

The corners of your lips turn up just slightly, “I didn’t mean to snap in there, I know you meant nothing by it, I just… Right before he was taken we talked about telling you all. Together. Once he got back.” You sniff, “Part of me feels like all of you figuring it out without him here is the universe saying he’s going to die out there. I know that’s silly, but…”

“It’s not silly at all. When you’ve witnessed something traumatic, like a loved one being taken away in front of you with no way for you to help, your brain looks for anything to rationalize it. Even the universe predicting the outcome.”

Spencer's voice throwing out facts was actually fairly soothing, “Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

“Come on.” He squeezes your shoulder, “Let’s bring Hotch home.”

***

“Slowly put your hands up and back away from the controls,” You say, flexing your fingers on the gun, “Now!” You say when he doesn’t move. You’re running out of time. Finally, he slowly raises his hands, but at the last second turns and lunges for you. The helicopter tips as you fall over, your gun misfires at the ceiling before tumbling out of the chopper, and you’re free falling until your face slams on the floor and your hands grab the outside edge of the helicopter so hard you’re sure you ripped out your fingernails. Dangling, you grunt as you scramble to hook your feet on something. The pilot, already assuming you’re dead, had gone back to the cockpit.

Finally, you haul yourself back inside and run to him, ripping him out of his seat. He’s bigger than you, though, and quickly overpowers you. His hands wrap around your throat as you’re pinned to the floor and you’re choking, suffocating. All you can think is at least you’ll die before the chopper goes up in flames. And then, in a last ditch effort that’s more involuntary reaction than conscious choice, you’re able to knee him in the groin. His hands immediately leave your throat and instead of taking the moment to catch your breath, you kick him off you and he rolls to the open door. You reach for him, but you’re too late, he falls.

You wanted revenge, but you didn’t want to kill anyone. But you had no time to think about that now. You cough a few times and then stumble over to the cockpit. For the first time since you jumped on the helicopter, you turn your radio back on.

“I don’t suppose one of you knows how to fly a chopper?”

***

When you reenter the conference room everyone’s watching the last few seconds of the video call. They look at you apologetically and you nod in acknowledgement. You have to close your eyes at the sound of your own screams.

“Who was he working to take down while he was there?” Morgan asked.

“The leader of the Kashmir Jehad Force, his name was Syed Khan.” You said.

JJ frowned, “He told you all of this? Wasn’t it classified?”

You nodded, “Hotch asked to bring me on a few weeks ago when they were stuck. I was debriefed, but then they had a break before I could get on the plane. They finished the operation a few days ago, Hotch was supposed to come home in the next couple of days.”

“So Khan is dead?” Rossi asked.

You nod, “No one was supposed to know it was the US Government who did it. They wanted it to look like an accident. They shouldn’t have known Hotch was there.”

“Are you thinking there’s a double agent?” Emily asked.

You shrug, “It’s either that or Hotch was sloppy. Which one would you bet on?” The room is silent. “Exactly.” You say quietly.

***

They don’t have time to be relieved about the fact that you single handedly re-hijacked the chopper because now you need to figure out how to safely land it and you’re a football field length away from the Empire State Building. Reid jumps into action, apparently having read a lot about helicopters when he was younger.

“I’m assuming he had it on autopilot, the button will be glowing green on your left, turn it off and then get ready to steer.”

You sigh, “Spencer, I am so happy to hear your voice.” You flip off the switch like he said and the helicopter immediately starts beeping at you and plummets. You try and remain calm and pull it up and then turn the helicopter in the opposite direction from the building and sigh. “You know how to land this thing, right Reid?”

“Yeah, I’ll walk you through it.”

Hotch has to walk away from the conversation because he’s so caught up in feeling relieved that you’re alive and absolutely furious with you for doing what you did. He thinks he knows why you did it. You had been absolutely torn up when he had been taken while in Pakistan and you had been on edge this whole case knowing the terrorists you were after had been a part of the group that had tortured him.

***

When Hotch wakes up, he’s chained to the ceiling by his wrists, shirtless. He can feel a migraine blooming from his temple where he was hit, but he knows the real pain hasn’t even begun yet. He can hear talking from the corner of the room and before they can see that he’s awake, he begins detaching himself. He pictures your face, smiling at him on your first date. The way you smile sleepily at him when he kisses you first thing in the morning. The way you scrunch up your forehead just a little when you’re thinking really hard. The first time you told him you loved him. And then he’s with you and no one can touch him, no one can hurt him.

***

“Do you know where they would keep him?” Strauss is sitting in the conference room now, looking at you, “You were debriefed, is it enough for a profile?”

You sighed deeply, eyes darting back and forth as you tried to recall all the information you know, “I know most of the profile for Kahn, but we never focused on the group as a whole because we wanted to find him alone when we neutralized him.” You tap your fingers on the table, “I have no idea what a group without Kahn would function like, even knowing what I knew before, the fact that Kahn is gone would change the whole profile. We don’t know who took over.”

“And what do you know about the group?”

“Um,” You blinked a few times, you were having a hard time focusing, “They were all followers, none of them would have been capable of leading. Whoever is in control now was outside of the group.”

“Maybe our double agent?” Emily says.

You nod, “That would make sense.”

Strauss frowns, “You think there’s a double agent?”

“There’s no way the group would have known Hotch was responsible if they didn’t have insider information.” You say.

“What you’re proposing is that a terrorist somehow infiltrated a Top Secret US Operation, waited for us to kill a terrorist leader, then took over that same terrorist group and kidnapped the leader of our operation.” Strauss said and waited for someone to say something, “Does that not sound ridiculous to anyone else?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” You ask sharply.

“Yes, that Agent Hotchner left something behind at the scene that pointed the remaining group in his direction.”

You’re shaking your head, “If you’re so certain that’s the case, then check their old stronghold. If it’s a new guy, they would have abandoned it, which I’m certain they did. But be my guest, waste our time and your men.” You storm out of the conference room for a second time.

***

You find yourself in Aaron’s office and you tilt your head to the side, stretching out a kink in your neck before sitting on the couch. You look around the office, well decorated with plaques commemorating his work in the bureau. When you get up and walk around to his side of the desk, you notice a small gold frame that hadn’t been there before. In it is a small picture of the both of you sitting on the beach at sunset. When had he put this here? When had he decided that it was worth the risk of your coworkers noticing that new frame? Seeing you propped on his desk like that?

And then you were crying and you couldn’t stop it and you just wanted to hold him. “Looks like you just outed your relationship to Erin.” You looked up to see Rossi standing in the doorway and wiped your tears, sniffling.

“Not like she can say anything considering you both make it a habit of checking in at the same hotel every weekend.” You snap, and then sigh instantly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, kiddo.” He says and walks over to put a hand on your shoulder, “You miss him.”

“A few hours ago we were talking about what we were going to do when he gets back, and now he’s gone.”

“He’s coming back, Y/N. We’ll find him.”

***

You had been right about the former stronghold being abandoned. All signs now pointed to a double agent. You tried to think of everything Aaron had told you about the team that would be a part of the operation, but you kept coming up empty. When a list was brought out with pictures of each you went over it again, every conversation you had had with Aaron since he left.

And then… there was one interaction, one interruption that you and Aaron had both dismissed at the time.

A man walks up behind Aaron while he’s talking to you, debriefing you back when they thought you’d be flying in. At the look on your face, Hotch had turned around to face him, “Can I help you with something?”

The man had simply shook his head and left, but you could have sworn for the rest of the call, he had lingered. Listening. Aaron had explained to you that most of those involved in the operation hadn’t known the full details of the plan up until they had left, in order to prevent situations like the one they were in now.

There were times when Aaron was talking to you on the phone and he told you he felt like someone had been watching him, but you both dismissed it as paranoia. And when the pictures and names were presented to you again, you pointed to the man you were sure you saw on that one video call. “What do we know about him?” You asked.

And the look of dread on Erin’s face when you pointed him out told you everything you needed to know. Garcia did what she always did and soon they knew every detail of his life. He was a textbook narcissist and sociopath. Incredibly charming, everyone loved him, he could convince almost anyone to follow him. He had an FBI background and rumor had it, he thought he was to be the one to lead this operation until Aaron showed up.

“So he takes over an entire terrorist organization just to take out Hotch?” Morgan asks, “We have to be missing something.”

You’re getting impatient, “Well let’s figure it out on the jet.”

“This team is not going to Pakistan.” Erin says firmly, “We will inform an extraction team that’s already on the ground when we figure out where they’re holding him.” You’re already rolling your eyes and preparing a retort and she notes that and continues, “If you can’t compartmentalize your emotions, Agent, I will have you removed from the case.”

You hold yourself back from yelling that you need to be the one who brings him home, because you know how ridiculous it sounds and you being stubborn isn’t helping Aaron. “Fine.” You say, “Here’s what I can tell you.”

***

You’re on top of him, straddling his hips, giggling as your hair falls in your face. He reaches up to push it away and you grind your hips against his. “Hotchner.” You say, “You have to wake up.” He frowns. It’s not your voice.

And before he can stop it, your face swims away and it’s replaced by SSA Scott Carter. It takes him a few moments to realize that Carter isn’t here to help him and that he was probably behind this whole thing. “Carter?” He manages.

Carter smiles, “Ah, the darling of the BAU finally awakens. What were you dreaming about, Hotchner? Sounded juicy. Was it about your girlfriend?” His head shot up at that. If you were in danger, he’d kill this son of a bitch. “Oh, I hit a nerve.” He smirks, “Did you tell her you weren’t planning on coming home this week? That you had some loose strings to tie up?”

Hotch blinked, his brain was still fuzzy from what he assumed was a concussion, “You… You’re the one stealing the military weapons and selling them to the terrorist organizations.” He hadn’t told you he was planning on staying a few more days to figure out who was transporting the weapons, he had still been hoping to figure it out before his flight was scheduled to leave, but Carter had been his prime suspect. Apparently, Carter had figured out he was on to him. It was why he was able to get Khan’s men to drag him from his tent this morning.

Carter gives him a slow clap, “You know, for a profiler, I’m disappointed you hadn’t figured it out sooner, Hotchner. Really, I’m very torn up about it. I have half a mind to fly to Quantico after you’re dead and demand your position.”

Aaron laughs, “You’re out of your mind if you think my team won’t figure this out in a quarter of the time it took me to.”

“What did you tell them, Hotchner?”

“I haven’t been in contact with my team in weeks.”

“Oh, but your girlfriend. Did you think I’d forget she’s a federal agent in the BAU as well?”

“She doesn’t know anything, the mission was classified, you know that.”

“You never mentioned your suspicions of a lucrative weapons trading operation?”

“No.”

Carter hums and takes out a knife, “I don’t believe you.”

Hotch doesn’t flinch, “Then go ahead and carve me up, Carter. You won’t be the first.”

***

With Reid’s help, after working through the night you were able to narrow down the possible holding sights to three places and Strauss ordered three separate teams to check each place. Now the only thing left to do was wait.

You’re sitting alone in Hotch’s office when Penelope, JJ, and Emily all walk in, JJ holding a tea for you. You give her a small smile of thanks as you take it, “You guys don’t have to sit with me, I’m okay.”

“Did you think we were going to just let you gloss over the fact you never told us you were dating Hotch?” Penelope said.

You manage a genuine smile and look down at your tea, “We weren’t sure when or how to tell you guys. Or if it would make things weird.”

JJ shrugs, “We’re already family and families are weird.”

“Not the point,” Penelope interjects, “We need all the details now, who made the first move?”

“He did, actually,” You smile recalling the memory, “He asked me if he could call me outside of work hours and I said sure, he could always call me to discuss a case. Then he got really red and I asked him if there was something else he would want to call me about. And he cleared his throat and asked if he could call me to ask me out to dinner sometime and I laughed and said yes.”

Emily shakes her head, “Hard to imagine that man getting flustered over anything.”

You laugh, “Yeah, he gets really awkward around women he likes romantically, it’s kind of endearing.” You clear your throat, “Thank you guys for trying to distract me.”

JJ nods, “They’re going to find him. Alive.”

You nod, “Yeah. I just wish it was my face he was seeing first.”

***

You had somehow managed to fall asleep at some point, head in JJ’s lap with her fingers gently combing through your hair.

“Guys.” Spencer’s voice jolts you from sleep, “They found him.”

All of you jump up, but you’re the first one out of the room, trailing Spencer, “He’s okay?”

“He’s injured, but yeah, he’s gonna be fine.”

Your legs almost give out, but JJ and Emily come on either side to grab your arms as you walk into the conference room.

“They’re airlifting him to the hospital, he was stabbed a couple of times but they were shallow, some burns, looks like he was waterboarded as well,” Erin Strauss smiles, “But he’s fine. They’ll transfer him to DC first thing in the morning.”

“What about Carter?” You ask.

“It turns out he was stealing weapons from the military and selling them to terrorist organizations and Hotch was onto him. That’s why he took him. Not because of Khan. He wanted to know how much Hotch knew and if he had told you anything.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t know anything about that.”

Strauss nodded, “Carter has people here. Hotch didn’t mention it to you on purpose. So that they wouldn’t take you if something happened.”

You close your eyes. That man, always trying to protect you. Always being the hero. You could have found him hours ago if he had just told you. But that was the man you had fallen in love with.

***

You insisted on being on the roof of the DC hospital when the chopper landed and you charmed all the nurses into allowing you into every room he was wheeled in until he was settled. They had sedated him for the long flight and it seemed he would wake at any moment. You slid your small, cold hand, into his large, warm one and waited.

“I know that ice cold hand,” He said slowly. His voice was gravely and it brought tears to your eyes to see that he was trying to smile. “Oh, hey, don’t cry.” He reaches his hand up to stroke your cheek and you turn your head into his hand to kiss his palm, sniffling.

“I’m very happy to see you.” You manage, choking down your sobs, “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.” His smile grows, “It’s not funny!”

“It’s very funny, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry over anything and certainly not me.” You glare at him through your tears and he chuckles, “Ah, there she is, tough guy. I know the only thing holding you back from punching me in the shoulder is that I’m injured.”

“Oh, I’ll still do it if you don’t shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

He smirks, “Promise?”

And finally you break into laughter and lean over him to kiss his mouth, “You should’ve told me about Carter.” You say, “You could have at least told me you were in danger.”

“And what, have you worried from an ocean away when it might have been nothing? I needed more evidence.”

You bite your lip, “I’ve never been so scared in my whole life, watching you get taken like that.”

“I came home.” He says softly, “I’m okay, I promise.”

You swallow, “Did they get Carter?” He nods, “And what about the guys that took you in?”

“Sweetheart, that’s a whole terrorist organization, no they didn’t get them.”

“They kidnapped a federal agent!” You say indignantly.

“And the federal agent is alive.”

“But—!”

He puts a finger over your mouth to quiet you, “Don’t make me argue with you like your unit chief right now. I just want to be your boyfriend.”

You sigh, “Okay,” Leaning over him, you rest your head on his chest and he begins stroking your hair. Having not slept at all since Hotch had been taken, you fall asleep like that. Finally at peace.

***

You hadn’t really been able to let it go, even when Hotch was better and back to work, he could tell you were harboring real anger about his kidnappers.

And on that morning, the morning you jumped on the god forsaken helicopter, when the BAU was asked to come to New York to investigate a possible terrorist threat, he debated telling you not to come. The government had suspicions that they were here to take revenge for Khan and he knew you’d be upset with being benched.

“Hotch, I’m fine. I’m not angry.” You had said when he pulled you into his office after debriefing the rest of the team.

“If you even hint at taking impulsive, reckless risks I will suspend you immediately, understood?”

You sigh, “I hate when you use your boss man voice with me.”

“Y/N—” He starts impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, understood. No being reckless. Got it.”

His eyes scan your face to see if you’re lying, “Good.” He says finally and presses a kiss to your forehead, “Let’s go then.”

He should have known you were lying. It was only the previous night you had woken him up tossing and turning from a nightmare. When he had finally gotten you awake you practically flung yourself at him, arms twining themselves around his neck as you caught your breath, “I thought you were gone again.” You had said breathlessly. And he had wordlessly held you to him, running his fingers through your hair until you were asleep again. It hadn’t been the first time he had had to comfort you. You had had far more nightmares about him being taken than he had about himself being tortured. Truth be told, he had been through far worse than being kidnapped and tortured for 24 hours. He knew it made you feel weak, the nightmares, when you weren’t even the one who had been tortured so he never brought them up. Never made you talk about them. But they worried him all the same. You relived the trauma again over and over, nearly every night. How were you expected to let the anger go when you were still living through it?

He should have known, but he let you out in the field anyway. Would that not put in question his ability to lead? His ability to lead with you on the same team?

He can barely see through his anger as he turns back to where Reid is instructing you to land. When you successfully land and jump out of the chopper, the rest of the team gathers around you to hug you, but Hotch stays back, watching.

When you notice, you walk over to him, “Hotch, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have--”

“You’re suspended for at least a month, if not more.” He starts, “You’re lucky I don’t remove you from this team all together.”

You frown, “Aaron, I was able to detain one of the suspects, now we can learn more about the group--”

“By doing what you did you put yourself and hundreds of civilians at risk. We could have shot down the chopper, but because you jumped onboard I had to instruct them to stand down. Which, by the way, I had to do several times because they were more than willing to kill you to get that chopper down, do you have any idea the damage you caused? What could have happened if you didn’t get control of that chopper when you did?”

“I… Baby, I’m sorry--” You reach your hand out to put on his arm, but he pulls away.

“Don’t talk like that, I’m not your boyfriend right now, I’m your unit chief. Now give me your badge and gun.”

You know you can’t blame him, he had warned you he would do this and you had disobeyed him intentionally. But still, your hands shake as you hand over your gun and badge. You don’t say anything else as you leave the roof, heading down all the way to ground level to get a taxi back to the hotel. And then you wait. You lay on your back and wait for the sound of the door opening and when it does hours later, you push yourself up and sit cross legged on the bed.

“Hi.” You say softly when he walks in.

He spares you a glance before heading to the bathroom without a word. You sigh and fall back on the bed. When you hear the shower running you decide to undress yourself and head in.

He sighs when he realizes you’ve joined him, but doesn’t object when you wrap your arms around his waist and press your face to his back, “I’m sorry.” You murmur.

“You keep saying that, but I know if you were given the opportunity to do it all again, you’d make the same decision.”

You pause at that, “You’re right, I don’t regret what I did, but I’m sorry I had to disobey you to do it.”

He turns in your arms and looks down into your eyes, “Do you not see the problem with that? You did what you did out of revenge. You let your emotions get the best of you, you broke the number one rule of being in the BAU.”

“Those men were prepared to die at all costs, I just didn’t want them to get off that easy. I want them to pay for what they did to you, and this way, at least one of them will. Would you not have done the same? Did you not murder Foyet after he had given himself up because he had killed your wife and threatened your son?”

“Don’t.” He warns.

You scoff, “You have this God complex sometimes, Aaron, and it’s so frustrating. You can do whatever you want because you always have a reason and from your standpoint you’re always right. But whenever one of your toy soldiers falls out of line, it’s a different story--”

“What I did with Foyet did not put myself or civilians at risk.” He says firmly.

“You went in alone.” You said, “You didn’t wait for backup.”

He looks down and shakes his head, “You cannot compare what you did today to the things I’ve done because I would never endanger hundreds of innocent people just for some petty revenge.”

He thinks your eyes water, but it’s difficult to tell in the shower, “It wasn’t petty, Aaron. Not to me.”

He sighs and bends his forehead to yours, bringing both hands up to cradle your face, “Honey, I’m fine. You have to let it go.”

You close your eyes at his touch and lean up just slightly to capture his mouth with yours and as he sighs into your mouth you pull away, just slightly, “If it was me… If I was the one who was kidnapped and tortured in a country thousands of miles away, what would you have done?”

He swallows, and searches your face, “There wouldn’t have been a single protocol that I wouldn’t have broken to get you home safe.”

You nod, “I’m sorry. I understand why you’re upset, I put others in danger. It won’t happen again.”

He kisses you hard on the mouth, “You’re still suspended.”

You hum and he pushes you against the shower wall, his hand coming up to rest on your throat, “Are you going to punish me?” You asked breathlessly.

“Maybe.” He leans down and scrapes his teeth against your neck, hand tightening around your throat just slightly in warning when you squirmed. “I’m still angry with you.” He says, his eyes looking up to meet yours, tightening his grip on your throat again.

You can barely breathe through his grip, “For disobeying you?”

“No.” He says roughly, “For nearly getting yourself killed.”

You manage to swallow, “And that would have upset you?”

The desire immediately fizzles out of his eyes and he drops his hand, “Of course it would, how could you ask that?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I just…” You shrug, “I don’t know, forget it.”

“No,” He puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you from leaving, “Do you really think I wouldn’t have been upset if you died?”

“Aaron,” You say slowly, “You are the love of my life. But Haley was yours. And that’s okay, I don’t expect anything else, but it’s just a fact of our relationship that I love you more than you love me.”

He stares at you blankly for another moment, and then looks away to turn the shower off. He leaves you standing there, wet and naked as he climbs out of the shower and towels himself off silently.

“Aaron.” You say after he’s been silent for so long, stepping out of the shower and wrapping your own towel around yourself.

“You think there can only be one?”

You blink, “What?”

“A person can have more than one love of their life, you think you just get one and done?”

You frown, walking over to the bed and lowering yourself onto it, “Yes, that’s the whole concept.”

He scoffs at you, “I forget how young you are, you think you know everything there is to know about relationships, you have no idea.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Me?” He raises his eyebrows, “Don’t patronize you, you’re the one who just tried to convince me you know more about my feelings, about who I love than I do. That’s quite patronizing, wouldn’t you say?”

You look down at your hands, “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

He sighs and walks over to you, crouching in front of you, “Haley was the love of my life, that’s true. But in my head,” He swallows, “There’s the me from before Haley, and there’s the me from after Haley. And you,” He brushes his index finger over the tip of your nose, “Were the person who made the me after Haley believe I deserved love again. You are just as much the love of my life as she is and I have no idea where I’d be right now if I hadn’t met you.”

You finally give him a little bit of a smile, “Probably even more insufferably miserable than you are now.”

He chuckles and you relish in the sound, bringing your fingers up to lightly stroke his cheek, “I’m sorry. For everything today, being reckless, bringing up Haley… I’m sorry, I was out of line.”

“It’s okay,” He says softly, “But you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll fire you.”

“Yes sir.” You say, smirking as you lean in to kiss him, twining your arms around the back of his head. Gently, you tug and pull him back on the bed, on top of you and you feel him smile into your mouth.

Since you’re already naked from the shower, he can’t stop his hands from wandering across your soft skin. His hand grips your thigh, lifting up your leg and allowing him to squeeze your ass. You gasp into his mouth just the way he likes and he bites down on your lower lip. “Aaron,” You whine.

“Did you want something, sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear as his hand slides between your legs.

It’s not fair, he knows when he works you up like this it’s nearly impossible to get a coherent word out of you. You manage only to moan his name again as he slowly, torturously, rubs over you again. “Come on, baby, use your words.” He teases and you can hear the smile in his voice. Bastard.

He runs a single finger down your folds, “Should I make you come with my fingers?” He slowly dips a finger inside you, eating up your reaction as your mouth falls open and a moan claws its way up your throat. “Or,” He pulls his finger out and you glare at him, “I could do it with my mouth.” Your eyes roll back when he licks you and you physically ache at his touch. But then he stops, “Or maybe,” He crawls back up to kiss your mouth and you can taste yourself on his tongue, “I won’t let you come at all since you’ve been such a bad girl.”

“Please,” You whine, “Please, I’ll be good. I promise.”

When he pulls back to look at you, his pupils are blown out and you feel such a rush seeing your effect on him. “We’ll see.” He says softly and without warning thrusts into you. Your back arches against the mattress as you curse. When your eyes meet his, he has a look of such confident satisfaction it nearly makes you come undone right there. “I think,” He pulls out slowly, “I’ll take my time with you tonight.” He reaches up a hand and wraps it around your throat again, “Is this okay?” He says softly, breaking his role for the first time.

You nod, “Please.” You say again, knowing how he loves when you beg. He scans your face once and then he grins again, tightening his hand around your throat until you’re gasping. “Good girl,” He whispers in your ear and slowly pushes into you again, gently biting your ear.

“Baby,” You manage with what little air you’re able to take in. He immediately stops, taking his hands off you, but you shake your head and pull his hand back to your throat, “Harder.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Fuck,” He curses, wrapping both hands around your throat, “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

And you smirk as he pushes down on your windpipe before slamming his hips into you at full force, you’re rapidly approaching climax, but Aaron can tell. You don’t know how he can tell, but he immediately slows his hips and takes his hands off your throat. You gasp at the sudden release and cough a little bit, “I didn’t tell you you could come.”

“I didn’t,” You say breathlessly, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“You almost did, and you would have if I didn’t stop.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looks at you and tilts his head to the side as he watches you, “Turn around.” He says calmly.

You hide your smile as you do what you’re told, turning on your knees, letting your forearms and face fall to the pillow. He roughly pulls at your waist, repositioning you and pulling your ass up even farther. He runs a hand over your ass, “Look at you, so pretty for me.” He says softly before pulling back his hand and smacking it hard against your ass. You moan into your pillow and then he’s inside you, a fistful of your hair in his fist.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” He asks breathlessly.

“Yes.”

He slams into you roughly making you yelp, “And you’ll never disobey me again?”

You swallow, “Never.”

He releases your hair and leans over you, sweetly kissing your shoulder and you can feel his smile against your skin, “That’s my sweet girl.” He reaches his arm around your front and begins to massage your clit as he thrusts into you. “Come for me, baby.” He says and speeds up his movements. It’s all the permission you need and you’re immediately unraveling. It takes everything in you not to collapse onto your stomach until he’s also climaxing, brought to his edge by the pulsing of your walls. He swears and collapses fully onto your back, your knees giving way under his weight.

You both lay there like that, him resting on your back in silence for a few moments, catching your breath. Then, Aaron sits up quickly, hands searching your skin, “I’m sorry, baby, did I hurt you?”

“No.” You say, but he presses kisses all over your skin anyway, immediately entering aftercare mode.

You sigh sleepily and pull him to you, wanting to snuggle with him. He obliges, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your neck. “I love you.” He murmurs into your skin, “So much.”

You hum, “I love you. Thank you for not firing me.”

“If you ever end up getting yourself killed I’ll never forgive you.”

You chuckle and kiss his temple, “Noted.”

#mine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x reader #hotch angst #hotch fluff #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #hotch imagine

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boneheadduluc · 3 years

Note

I'm in need of some Andrea smut every time I read something about him there is no sex because this was in the 30's and it would be inappropriate to do it before marriage. So...let's get inappropriate (?

no mommy kink please, i can't cope with that

Actually this was going to happen v/ soon in my fic of Andrea BUT I'll write a quick drabble/one shot for you bc same! we need that in our lives :) I'll be doing gender neutral reader for dis ;) Warnings!! 18+ , loss of virginity, perhaps slight edging? oral on reader (female presenting) and NO mommy kink per request :)

Rules were rules. Marry a nice man, then lose your virginity. You had been following those rules. Even now, you lived alone in a small cottage on a hill. And you still haven't lost it. You never felt inclined too really...and you were fine with that. It's just everyone in the village usually was a kid or a senior. No one was around your age, so you preferred a secluded kind of life.

Even if that meant following rules you didn't want to follow. You hated that you didn't have a choice. You hated how your parent's voice replayed in your head over and over. Telling you “wait! get married first!” You were sick of it, you were desperate sure, not desperate enough to lose it to whoever you met, but then...

a new boy showed up, you learned his story since you were a bit close with Janet and Ursula, the old sisters who were housing the young man. So you met him, and god... he was just your type.

Plus they invited you over so he could play for you? meaning the violin. At first, you felt a little out of place... until he started playing. Needless to say, he was more than talented than you expected. You’d never heard anything like it, afterward, he wanted to talk to you surprisingly.

“What is you name?” he tried his best to speak, you were told his English wasn't the best so you found it more endearing than anything and applauded his effort since he’d only been here for a few weeks. So you looked to him, sitting beside you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. His hair was a bit shaggy as he shook the hair out of his eyes.

“Oh, my name is (y/n).” You gave a warm smile, shifting in your seat to face him more. “And you are Andrea, yes?” and he nodded before he repeated your name warmly, and honestly you loved the way it sounded in his mouth.

------------------

Weeks passed, you visiting, Andrea playing for you, afterward, you would talk to Andrea, his English noticeably getting better. And sometimes he would even be a bit of a flirt. So one day you just asked the sisters if they would allow you to take him into town. You did your best to sound as friendly as possible and it seemingly worked.

You showed him a few of your favorite places, took him dancing to the pub. Though he wasn't a very good dancer, you had to kind of show him. Guiding his hands to land on your hips and pull you close, telling him to watch your feet as he got red because honestly he couldn't help but stare at your face.

Then finally he asked to see your home. And you couldn't help be nervous, he had been making eyes at you all day, smirking like a cat with cunning eyes. Like he had so much more in that head of his, thoughts that he wasn't sharing. Plus he was already holding hands with you, keeping you close to him as he kept calling you ‘Liebling.’ And of course you didn't refuse him, not at all. So by the time, you were halfway up the path on the mountain and he slowly stopped walking, staring at you with a sweet smile.

“Something the matter Andrea?” you questioned- confused as to why he had stopped. He moved slowly, stepping closer to you, leaning in, quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Then backing away, checking your eyes for permission. You nodded and Andrea knitted his brows together, exhaling through his nose as he slowly moved to press a kiss to your other cheek. Gently. Wonderfully. Then your forehead. The tip of your nose, then finally his mouth hovered over your own. Breath shaking with feverish anticipation.

You ached to lean in and finish what he started, but you wanted to see if Andrea would do it himself, and after about 5 nervous seconds you felt him roughly slot his lips against your own.

You were lost, blindly lost to pleasure and yearning. You barely realized the way you pulled him up the hill, mouths slotted together as you rushed backward, your back soon up against your door, your hands at his waistband, he moaned against your mouth.

And soon enough you were turned around and inside and he was walking backward as you led him to your bed. Pushing against his chest as he sat and you climbed his lap. Kissing him so harshly you felt your teeth clink against his own, embarrassed you pulled back, your hand coming to your lips.

“I apologize, Andrea-” You were breathless, with shy eyes and flushed cheeks.

He looked the same, though less embarrassed. More lustful than anything.

“No, no-” He started softly. “You are wonderful.” He spoke slowly, catching your eyes as he brushed your hair out of your face with his thumbs. Putting a strand of hair behind your ear lovingly.

“But...I need-” He started up again, and he groaned out, almost a whimper really, like he was in pain and that's when you felt something poke against your inner thigh, and then you understood. You ground forward and watched as his mouth fell open. Andreas eyebrows furrowing, his face growing red, a moan caught in his throat.

“Oh, you wonderful creature.” You mused. Almost amazed at the power you held over him. So you did it again and again until he was begging for you to let him cum.

“Please...Please (y/n)-” He buried his face into your neck, his large hands on your waist, fingers digging in deeply, his shoulders going tense at your dry humping.

A part of you was nervous honestly. You didn't know if Andrea was also a virgin, but judging by his closeness already ...you were gonna bet on the fact he was, but then again you didn't know what you were doing anyway.

So instead, you simply stopped. And he stopped breathing. He was frozen actually, and you wondered why, a part of you wanted to laugh, he was curled up into you, unmoving, holding you.

“Andrea?” you questioned and finally he moved, looking up at you,

“I do something wrong?” he slowly drawled out, voice tiny and nervous and you shook your head. “No, of course not I just...have you ever done this before?” It was your turn to be tiny and nervous now, especially self-conscious.

He gulped, Andrea understood. And he slowly shook his head ‘no’

“I'm sorry,” he whispered and it almost broke your heart.

“Oh my love, no! You have nothing to be sorry for. I have never...done this... either. So it's okay Andrea. And...and honestly, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to.” You cupped his face, giving him a warm smile and he returned one. Slowly pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I want you.” He whispered after breaking the kiss barely.

And that was all you needed to push him back on the bed so he was laying down. You climbed atop him, undoing his pants slowly. He raised himself on his elbows, watching you, breathing heavy, eyes flickering back and forth between you and your hands.

And suddenly he took your hand, putting it away from him. Softly and gently and lovingly. “first you. Let me...help.” He muttered, looking to you for permission and so you switched roles and he was helping you undress from your light dress.

And you were naked and self-conscious and nervous in front of him.

But he was smiling, eyes running over your perfect form. You were perfect to him, everything about you, even the things you considered a flaw, he would reach out, brushing his fingertips lightly over them. He muttered how you were beautiful before reaching with both hands to your thighs. Parting them slowly, gently as all his movements were.

He slowly moved off the bed, to his knees as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, your legs over his shoulder, his eyes on yours, looking up to you the entire time. Your hands gripped the blankets harshly and nervously. But you nodded at him and he leaned forward, delving his tongue over your entrance. And you moaned, the feeling making you throw your head back.

And he did it again, though opening his mouth even wider, taking you into his mouth, his tongue lapping up your wetness. Moving up to run over your clit. And you shivered, sensitive all over.

He realized that was the spot, so he did it once more and got the same reaction, actually an even bigger one. Your back was beginning to arch. Toes curling.

And he kept eating you out- tongue sometimes delving into you, into your warmth and he would moan against your wetness and heat. Eyelashes fluttering and closing as you would spread your legs further, pushing your cunt against his mouth- thighs shaking and quivering as you felt a knot of heat in your lower stomach slowly coming closer and growing bigger. And finally you were gripping his hair, pulling as he whimpered against you.

“Oh Andrea- Andrea Im so- Im going to-” You could barely get a full comprehensible sentence out before your thighs were convulsing around his head and your back arching and a loud moan was drawn out from deep within you moaning- screaming his name as a intense orgasm slapped you right across the face, and god- you were exhausted in all honesty. You even fell back on the bed, his tongue still on you though as if he couldn't get enough, nose sometimes even nudging up against your clit as he hungrily and greedily tasted everything in you.

And as much as it was amazing soon you were becoming over sensitive and with each lick and moan of his against your pussy you were being shocked, body twitching and you pulled back, breathless, a mess for a lack of a better term.

And you began to chuckle as well as he rose up now, smirking at you, his lips and chin, all slick with your wetness and his own spit. And you grinned right back at him, and pulled him down to meet your mouth as you kissed him, without a care in the world. It was almost satisfying to taste yourself on Andreas tongue.

But finally you broke the kiss, cupping his face as you knew what came next. “Your turn my love.” You muttered. Sitting up now as you went for his belt, undoing it slowly, hoping he wouldn't stop you again. Though it was worth it last time. But he allowed you to- Andrea even began unbuttoning his shirt. Throwing it to the floor along with your dress, as you followed up with taking off his belt and pulling the pants away- his cock finally free and hard. Fully upright, beads of pre-cum forming at his reddened tip. He was so desperate, it was clear in his expression. Mouth slightly agape as he watched you.

You thought for a moment, wondering on what you should do now. On what position and honestly how all of this was gonna go. A part of you was scared as you shuffled back on the bed, and patted the space beside you, signaling him to come be by you, but first he began shuffling out of his shoes, then along with his pants until he was fully naked. The look on his face signaling he didn't want you to feel self conscious with him being half clothed, so he decided he too would be fully undressed for this. He moved beside you now, huffing out a short breath, nervous. It was clear so you pulled him close, kissing his jawline softly. “Lets go slow, yes?” You mumbled to him softly. He looked up at you, shoulders tense as he nodded. “Yes mien Liebling.” he whispered back, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he furrowed his brows again for you were laying back now, resting your head on the pillow as you slightly spread your legs for him to fit in between. So he moved to lean over you, head of his cock teasing against your lower belly softly, it made him whimper as you couldn't help but giggle as you looked up to him, he looked beautiful this way. “Should I- uhm..” he stuttered, cheeks burning red as he lowered himself slightly, trying to align himself with your entrance. “Yes Andrea- go ahead.” You bit at your lower lip, eyes gazing as he closed his eyes, throbbing tip budding at your opening, he pushed his hips forward, his tip sliding in before it slipped upwards, you really were that tight- though you felt bad, for if you were more relaxed it would've gone in easier. “I apologize-” you mutter, exhaling shakily but he shakes his head. “No- not your fault.” Andrea shares a calming smile, his eyes shining as he looks deeply into your eyes. “I try again.” he reassured and positioned his cock to your entrance once more, this time sliding it in your slickness and heat easily. You held your breath, feeling him stretch you wide, Andrea on the other hand groaned out, whimpered as his head fell into the crook of your neck. You couldn't imagine how sensitive he must be at the moment. He kept sliding in until he couldn't anymore, and he filled you to the brim, you felt so full and couldn't help but moan softly, your hands going to the back of his nape, playing with his hair, twirling it around your fingers, admiring the feeling of his warm body atop of yours, holding you. he stayed still, immediately understanding you would need some time to adjust. So you two stayed still, breathing and trying to figure this all out, he lifted his head, and you just stared at him until the two of you broke into small laughter. Warm chuckles filling the air around you, and you caught his lips softly, he laughed into your mouth even- so shy and nervous, Andrea couldn't help it. But after a minute of kissing and nervously giggling you finally felt ready. You broke the warm kiss. And caught his eyes. “Andrea I think I'm ready...move...please?” You muttered shyly- you didn't want to sound demanding but were soon relived when he just smiled at you. Giving you a look as to say “of course.” And he pulled out halfway, inhaling deeply as he then slid back in setting up a pace, not to fast not to slow, just right honestly. And that's when you felt the pleasure slowly beginning to take over the slight discomfort. When he soon began pumping into you like a animal in heat. You moaned his name over and over, arching your back as you watched his face turn desperate. He would mutter in polish and German. whispering into your ear and you couldn't help but scratch at his back. He changed his angle slightly, cock hitting your g-spot.

“Oh! Oh Andrea you- oh fuck.” You cursed, closing your eyes. “Yes harder please.” you moaned out, feverishly. Everything felt so hot, you were even sweating across your forehead slightly. And he did as you commanded, pushing harder, fucking into you, moaning brokenly each time he pushed in. The squeeze of your pussy around him making him lightheaded even. He dropped his head to your chest eventually. Tongue finding its way to your nipple. Opening wide and sucking on your breast. And you felt so sensitive, everything overwhelming you but in the best way possible.

“Oh yes, yes-” you chanted, breathless and suddenly wrapped your thighs around him, flipping the two of you over so you were on top, he gasped- eyes wide as he looked to you, his face becoming flushed once more- the sight of him was enough to push you to the edge as you began to bounce on his cock, suddenly reaching you climax, steadying yourself by putting your hands to Andreas chest- your back arching as you clenched around his cock, falling forward now- pushing your lips together.

He kept thrusting into you though- desperate to cum inside, “Please- please.” He begged for release, closing his eyes as you groaned softly, your insides sensitive as you sat back up, and it only took 2 bounces on his cock for Andrea to be moaning out your name- as he gripped your thighs and soon you felt his warm seed fill you up, he whimpered and fucked into you harshly now- sitting up and pulling you close, fitting his mouth over your tit to muffle the shameful sounds spilling out of him.

As he fucked through his climax he soon began to slow down, exhausted as you moaned- feeling him suck your nipples softly now, closing his eyes as his breathing calmed.

You ran your fingers through his hair softly. Kissing the top of his head- satisfied now and he now popped off your tit, lips a bright color that matched his cheeks. He smiled at you and you grinned back, pressing a kiss to his nose. You raised yourself off of him, and you felt his warm seed inside of you, you adored the feeling as you rolled off and laid down- he lowered himself to be by you.

“You were amazing Andrea- absolutely wonderful.” You sighed softly as his hand reached your stomach, drawing invisible lines with his fingers over the soft skin. Andrea shyly smiled now. “Danke.” he whispered in German, you knew what it meant and chuckled softly.

“Im sleepy.” you whispered, and it was true- your eyes were heavy and Andrea nodded. “Sleep.” he kissed your cheek warmly. And so you did, you fell asleep to him cuddled beside you, humming a tune that was familiar to you.

#Daniel Bruhl #daniel brühl #Ladies in Lavender #Andrea Marowski #andrea marowski x reader #loss of virginity #first time on tumblr #this is so soft pls #hope you enjoy this oneshot guys #sorry it took so fckin long

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stayextrafrosty · 3 years

Text

All That I Want Is to Finally Be Honest

Summary: 3x09 coda. Michael creates a truth serum in an attempt to help Liz get information out of Jones. He has no one to test it on so he injects himself. Well, he doesn’t expect Alex to come visit. And while they’ve been talking about things more, there’s still stuff Michael needs to say.

A/N: When I say this is porn with feelings… I mean that in the most intense way. The emotions come out full force here. Title taken from the song "Back To U" by SLANDER. This was supposed to be done before 3x10 but alas.

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

“I told you, Ortecho. The serum is done but I need to test it. Are you a willing subject?” Michael said as he swirled the liquid in the beaker.

“I told you I’m busy making more of the alien suppressant. Call Isobel. She’s been itching for things to do.” Michael snorted and hung up the phone. He knew she was right. Isobel had been poking her nose into everything Michael and Liz had been working on. She offered to help but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do under the circumstances. But maybe it would be a good idea to put her under oath for a little bit.

He reached for the phone in his pocket, groaning when he saw the ‘no service’ message. This bunker was so hit or miss with it these days. He wished he could send actual thoughts to Isobel as opposed to just feelings over long distances.

Carefully setting the beaker in a holder, he stepped away from the table, wiping the sweat from his palms on his jeans. He climbed up the ladder, pushing the hatch open with his mind. The sun nearly blinded him as cool air whipped around him. He sat himself on the edge of the hole, waiting for his phone to connect again.

As soon as it did, it buzzed a few times as text messages came in. Three separate messages from Isobel spit balling theories and asking if he needed anything from her. He had tried to tell her to get some rest but she was determined to be the one to take Jones down. She had planned a date with some new girl in town but every time Michael asked about it she said there were other things to focus on.

Date.

He and Alex had made plans but of course they got interrupted. By a machine of all things. A machine that made him hallucinate Michael’s mom. Practically throwing every single doubt about them in his mind right back in his face. Alex didn’t want to tell him the full extent of the things she had said. The things he was thinking. Michael understood for the most part. He wasn’t keeping things from him to be cruel. Just the opposite. Alex was trying to protect him. Alex was always protecting him.

Michael sent a quick message back to Isobel about the serum and how he needed help testing it. The phone buzzed again in his hand and he couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face. He was only thankful Sanders wasn’t around to tease him about it. Alex’s name was at the top of the new message. He tapped the notification to re-open their conversation. He wanted to pretend he didn’t spend the time rereading their conversations since Michael had kissed him. Until then, Michael had thought Alex wasn’t the type to use emojis, but they were being sprinkled throughout more messages.

‘Hope your day is going well’ followed by a blushing smiley face. Michael laughed and shook his head.

‘It would be better if I could see you’ he sent back. He started to climb back down the ladder but his phone buzzed again. He opened the message, being greeted by Alex’s small smile and half lidded eyes as he rested his head on his arm on his desk. He wasn’t fully recovered and Michael could tell. But even with the dark circles, he was still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

Michael had tried to get him to take a few days off but Alex was insistent. He swore that he would only work on the machine in the way they discussed from now on. And Michael was pretty sure Eduardo was now watching him.

The soft smile still made his heart flutter. This is real. They could casually send pictures of themselves and it wasn’t weird. Michael could see Alex whenever he wanted. And god he loved him. He loved him so much he could jump out of his skin every time he heard his name. There was a twitch in his fingers that told him only to touch Alex. Hold him close and never let go.

“You’re gunna fall if you keep standin’ on the ladder like that!” Michael jumped at Sanders voice. The old man had his eye brow raised and arms crossed as he stood outside of the office trailer.

“Just trying to get some fresh air,” Michael called back as a gust of cold wind whipped through the yard. Sanders shook his head and moved back into the trailer. Michael climbed down the ladder but left the cover off, hoping that would let his phone continue to get service.

He began filling syringes with the serum. His phone buzzed on the table and he briefly glanced at it to see Isobel’s response. She had found something to occupy her time apparently; investigating a lead about where the new alien had disappeared to.

Michael sighed and looked at the needles. He supposed he could just test it on himself. But if it worked properly (which it should) would Sanders really want to listen to all of the stories he had kept secret all this time?

“Guess I don’t have a choice,” he mumbled to himself. Picking up one of the syringes, he watched the green liquid shift. He slipped his flannel off his shoulders, tossing it onto the table. The black t-shirt he wore underneath didn’t do much to keep the cold from the open hatch from sinking in. He pushed a small amount of the serum out of the needle before slipping it into his arm.

“Mad scientists always test on themselves, right?” he asked nobody as he set the empty tube back on the table.

He felt nothing as he walked around the bunker, tapping a pen on the notebook in his hand. Had it really been a bust? Maybe he needed to use more of the powder. He used significantly less than Liz did in her alien killing poison but maybe he needed just a bit more to influence the prefrontal cortex.

He mumbled a curse as he made a note. He didn’t have time to remake this crap a million times. Jones was out there and who knew—

A wave of dizziness washed over him, sending him to his knees. He tried to pull himself up by grabbing the table but the room spun. He missed every attempt to grab the metal edge. Black creeped in at the edge of his vision. He let himself collapse to the floor and he rolled onto his back. Michael fought to keep his eyes open for as long as possible but the promise of sleep was too tempting.

“—rin! Guerin! Come on wake up. Don’t you dare leave me now… Michael!”

Alex’s voice was distant, like he was underwater. There was a feint pressure floating across his upper body, poking and prodding. His head radiated pain but it was slowly fading. He began to feel like he was floating as opposed to the hard surface he had been laying on. But at least feeling was starting to return to his body.

“Michael, please. I’m begging you to open your eyes. Twitch your fingers. Scrunch your nose. Anything.” Alex was louder now, as though coming from right above him. He finally oriented himself enough to recognize that his head was elevated. A trembling hand held his own, obviously trying to stop shaking by squeezing harder. Something wet dripped onto his cheek.

“Damnit, Michael!” Alex choked out a sob. Michael summoned all the energy he could and squeezed his hand. He heard Alex gasp above him and then he was squeezing back. Another hand brushed hair off his forehead and traced down the side of his face. Michael would have shuddered at the feeling of his hands but he still didn’t have much movement in his body.

Instead he swallowed and tried to make some kid of sound. Any word that would sooth Alex. He just ended up with a clipped groan. Still Alex seemed to release a sigh of relief.

“Michael. Can you hear me? Are you ok?” Michael just made another strangled sound and gave a barely there squeeze to his hand. He focused his efforts to opening his eyes instead. He wanted to see Alex.

The dim lights above him still felt too bright and everything was blurry. He could vaguely make out the form of Alex’s head bent over him. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog in front of his eyes. As his focus sharpened, he met Alex’s wide eyes. Tear tracks stained his cheeks, and a small smile found its way to his lips.

“I’m ok,” Michael managed to croak out. Then Alex was bending down and pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. Michael would have responded but he was pulling away too soon.

“Wait… do it again,” Michael mumbled. Alex shook his head.

“Let’s at least get you sitting up.” He groaned as Alex lifted his shoulders and helped him turn so he could lean against the counter. Michael noticed his position on his knees. How long had he been sitting like that with his head in his lap? It was probably uncomfortable at best, painful at worst. He moved sluggishly to grab Alex’s arm and pull him off his knees to a sitting position next to him.

“You don’t have to worry about me so much. But I love that you do.” Michael wanted to correct himself. Take back the second part. It was still too soon.

“What happened? Did someone come hurt you?” The new anger in his voice was barely contained. Michael blew extra air out of his nose in a laugh and shook his head.

“No. I stuck myself with a serum I’ve been working on for Liz. I needed a guinea pig and no other alien was around. I think I used too much of the yellow powder and knocked myself out. No big deal.” He reached over to rest a hand on Alex’s thigh and squeezed gently. “There’s no need to be angry. But the fact that you are makes me love you more.” Stop talking! He was screaming at himself.

Alex sucked in a breath and turned his face away, but Michael caught the blush that overtook his cheeks. He let himself slide to the side, resting his own head on Alex’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment and the fog in his head continued to clear.

“What kind of serum was it?” Alex asked quietly.

“Supposed to be a truth serum. The idea was that once we over power Jones, we stick him with it and he tells us all the secrets of the universe. How to swap Max and Jones back into their proper bodies. History of our home planet and the War. Stuff about us.” He knew that this was more information than he was asking for but he couldn’t stop talking. “Did you know I’m immune to fire? That was a hell of a discovery. Spent the better part of a day setting my hand on fire to see if it did anything. Never did. There really was an irony in you telling me that you’d burn the world down for me.”

“Michael…”

“Sure you’d burn the world but did you ever consider I would walk through fire for you? That maybe the world is already burning but it doesn’t matter because I can withstand it all. Just for you.”

Suddenly a hand was covering his mouth and Alex was staring at him so intently Michael thought he might be reading his mind. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes and his breathing was shaky, as though Michael had overwhelmed him.

“I.. think the serum works,” Alex said quietly. Michael wrapped his fingers around his wrist gently, pulling his hand away from his mouth, but not too far.

“I love you, Alex.” He pulled his hand back to his lips, pressing them to his palm. “And I should have said that to you so much earlier.”

Michael could see the way Alex fought against the smile. He breathed out a half laugh and looked anywhere except him.

“Tell me that when you haven’t drugged yourself,” Alex teased gently.

“Alex, I can’t lie.”

“I know. But I want you to tell me when you’re ready.”

Michael kissed his palm again, then moved his hand slowly down his cheek and placed it on the back of his neck. Alex slipped his fingers into his curls, nails scratching lightly at his head.

“I want to kiss you,” Michael said softly, cupping Alex’s jaw and running his thumbs over his cheeks. He let one go just far enough to press against his bottom lip, pulling it down. Alex’s lips parted as his hand threaded through Michael’s hair tightened.

“You don’t have to ask, you know,” he responded, breathless.

Michael couldn’t help the shudder that ran down his spine. He leaned forward, resting his head against Alex, just breathing in the smell of him. He brushed their lips together and Alex gasped. The small sound sent a thrill through Michael. His heart fluttered and his stomach twisted with nerves.

“I want you,” Michael mumbled.

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His body trembled as the words warmed every part of his body. Need settled between his legs as he rolled himself to straddle Alex’s thighs. His free hand landed on Michael’s hip as the hand in his hair tugged him closer, brushing their lips against each other again.

Michael hadn’t been this nervous about intimacy in years. This was Alex after all. They communicate with bodies and moans. It’s the way they understand each other. They always fit together so well. Filling in the cracks of each other and making something more beautiful than when they were apart.

Alex was the one who closed the distance between them, capturing Michael’s lips, stoking the fire under his skin. He moaned softly, pressing his hips against Alex.

They had kept their kisses chaste since the night at the Pony, neither wanting to rush into this before they knew where they were going. But Michael had been craving Alex for almost three years. To have him wrapped in his arms as sweat eased the movement of their bodies. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He couldn’t.

Alex tugged on his hair with one hand and his t-shirt with the other. Michael’s hands were moving down to the unbuttoned flannel. He shoved it off his shoulders to expose the white shirt underneath. Alex only released him to chuck the shirt somewhere to the side before he was grabbing at the hem of his shirt and pushing it up.

Michael separated for a moment as he gripped Alex’s shoulders, running his fingers over the collar of his shirt. He felt the cool press of metal and remembered the dog tags Alex had taken to wearing.

His mind wandered to the way they would move against Alex’s chest. The way they would intensify the feeling of Michael’s warm fingers as he traced the chain on his skin. He groaned as he also realized that it was something he couldhave.

Michael kissed Alex again, grinding down against him. He wanted to make sure he knew just how badly he wanted him. Alex shoved his hands under his shirt, fingers splayed over his stomach and then moving to his sides and eventually his back. Alex scratched him lightly as he pulled him closer, encouraging the movement of his hips more.

He shuddered and cursed against his lips. He felt like a teenager again. Like he might come undone without even getting their pants off.

“Wait,” Michael mumbled, breathless. Alex pulled away immediately, looking almost scared that he had done something wrong. Michael smiled warmly at him before crushing their lips together one last time. He only held it for a couple seconds before he was pushing himself off the floor. He grabbed Alex’s hands on the way up, using his telekinesis to help lift him to his feet also. Alex looked around, shocked in a way. Michael was a bit startled too. The pollen was supposed to suppress their powers. Maybe the amount he used was too small to have a real effect. Instead of pointing this out, Michael just chuckled and pushed Alex back against the edge of the counter, head dipping to place wet kisses over his neck.

“Come to my trailer,” he said against his throat. “If I’m going to show you just how much I love you, I’ll at least do it in a proper bed.” Alex’s head fell back as Michael’s mouth moved. But he nodded quickly.

Michael forced himself away from Alex, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the ladder. He let Alex climb out first, following closely behind. He shut the cover to the bunker with hardly a glance behind him. He flung the trailer door open next and all but shoved Alex inside, though still cautious of his leg.

Not that Alex was any more patient than he was. Alex grabbed him by his shirt, pulling their bodies flush against each other as Michael locked the door with his mind. Michael’s arms wrapped around his waist as their lips came together again. Alex whimpered as his tongue teased his lip. Michael tugged it between his teeth, groaning at the way it made Alex melt against him.

Alex’s hands dragged down his chest to the hem of his shirt again, yanking it up. They only separated for a moment as Michael finished removing the garment. Michael shoved him backwards onto his bed. He smiled down at him and watched hungrily as he rushed to undo the button on his jeans. All of this the same path they had taken three years ago. But it was different now. Neither was going to run away.

Michael crawled onto the bed, settling between Alex’s thighs as he pushed his shirt up and over his head before capturing his mouth again. They sighed against each other’s lips as their skin moved together effortlessly. The cool metal of the dog tags Alex was wearing shocked Michael, but that only made him want to press closer.

Fingers pulled at his hair and then scratched down his back until they reached the top of his jeans. Michael’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as Alex traced the hem around to the belt buckle. He fumbled with the strap for a moment before he yanked it free and immediately popped the button on his jeans.

Michael shifted back to his knees to admire the beautiful man below him. His face was red, lips swollen and wet as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes were half lidded as he ran his fingers over Michael’s abs and tried to pull him back down by the hem of his jeans. As much as he wanted to go with whatever Alex wanted, he wanted to take it slow. The temptation to just throw all their clothing off and get Alex moaning taunted him. But they could do that any time. No. Michael was determined to show him exactly what he thought of him.

He took Alex’s hands in his, threading their fingers together and pressing them down next to his head. Leaning down again, he kissed Alex slowly, only just barely running his tongue over the seem of his lips. A small whine bubbled up from Alex’s throat as his fingers squeezed Michael’s. Michael rubbed his hips against Alex and they both gasped at the friction.

“I need you,” Alex panted out. Michael hushed him gently as he trailed his lips over his jaw to his neck. Alex’s body arched against him as he sucked at his pulse point. Once he was satisfied with the mark, he moved down past his collarbone and hovered over his heart, breathing over the skin before pressing his mouth against him softly.

He slipped his hands out of Alex’s, letting his fingers just ghost over his arms. Michael continued his movement down his body, leaving small, wet kisses in his wake. His hands followed the same path through the hair on his chest as his mouth worked over his stomach to the trail of hair leading down from his belly button.

“I can never come up with the words to tell you how perfect you are,” Michael breathed against his skin. He pressed his forehead against the bottom of Alex’s ribs as he dragged his fingers down to the hem of his jeans. He felt Alex’s hands run through his hair, scratching and tugging. Michael slipped his fingers into the waistband and began pulling the fabric down.

“Michael, wait,” Alex said. He froze and looked up at him, waiting for further instructions. “Let me take off the prosthesis first.” He pushed himself up to his elbows before Michael stopped him.

“If you’ll let me, I can take it off for you.” Alex’s shoulders sagged as a small smile found it’s way to his face. He nodded slowly and took Michael’s hand, pulling it to his mouth to press a couple chaste kisses to his fingers.

Michael slipped to his knees on the floor. He rolled Alex’s pant leg up, exposing the metal and plastic. He worked quickly with Alex watching him, undoing straps and tugging gently. He set the leg to the side carefully, leaning it against the wall.

He looked back up at Alex and hoped that he didn’t blush from the soft look he was getting from him. He rolled the sock off his stump and set it to the side with the prosthesis. He watched Alex through his eye lashes as he pressed kisses to his knee.

Alex gasped softly and pushed himself up completely so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He took Michael’s face in his hands tenderly, brushing his thumbs over his cheekbones. Michael ran his hands up his legs to his waist and over his stomach. His fingers brushed against the metal of the dog tags when he got to his chest.

He dragged one hand back down to Alex’s hip. The other he let catch on the metal chain. He met Alex’s gaze as their heavy breathing mingled between them. Then Michael tugged on the chain, firmly pulling Alex down toward him.

He pushed himself up at the same time, mouths coming together with a chorus of moans and gasps. Their tongues tasted each other as Michael pushed himself up and Alex back on the bed. Alex’s hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him as close as their bodies would allow.

Michael braced himself with one hand while the other ran down Alex’s body to the waist of his pants again. He grabbed and tugged both the jeans and underwear over his hips. Alex, lifted himself so he could bring them down to his thighs.

He pulled away from Alex to finish removing his clothes, tossing them somewhere to the side. Michael licked his lips as he took in every beautiful inch of him. The firm muscles barely hidden beneath the soft skin. He touched his thighs, the hair tickling his hands. He moved slowly up his thighs and to his hips where his hardness rested between his legs.

Michael avoided touching his cock, instead focusing on massaging everything else around it. He dug his fingers into the soft spot on his hips. Alex rolled toward his touch, sighing blissfully. And he couldn’t help himself, leaning down to press featherlight kisses to the v just below his abs. Alex made a small whimpering sound as he pulled at his own hair.

“So amazing…” Michael mumbled as he continued his line of kisses up over his abs. “Beautiful and strong…” Alex gasped out his name when his hands scratched up his sides and to his arms to hold them above his head. “You were made for me, Alex. I was made to touch you, to kiss you, to live for you, to love you.”

Michael kissed his way back up to his chest, inhaling his scent and hoping that it would be left on his own skin for days. He pressed his tongue over Alex’s nipple briefly before kissing across his chest to the other one. Alex arched his back, pressing his member against Michael’s abs and rubbing. He chuckled.

“Touching you was always the most rewarding part,” he said sweetly before running the tip of his tongue up over his chest and neck and back to his lips. He left only a few centimeters between them as he spoke, “You’re so responsive. I can’t help but want to take you apart.”

“Kiss me, Michael. Now,” Alex ordered. Michael would never deny him anything. Not unless that was the plan. It was about both of them this time. He could play with him in the future. Michael slid his mouth over Alex’s, not being able to stop the smile.

They had a future. And this was only the first of all the ways he would be allowed to love him.

Michael released Alex’s arms and ran his fingers back down his torso to his hips. He pressed the length of his body against him. Alex wrapped his arms around his neck, licking into his mouth and nipping at his lip. Michael moaned softly and rocked his hips against him.

He released Alex to push his own pants and underwear to his knees before kicking them off. He let most of his weight collapse on top of Alex, rolling his hips to rub them against each other. They moaned together as a shudder ran down Michael’s spine.

Alex untangled one of his arms to reach between them. He wrapped his hand around both of them, stroking slowly. Michel groaned into his mouth as his arms started to shake from the effort of holding himself up. He tore himself away from Alex, knowing that if he let this continue, he would finish before even getting inside him. He sat back on his knees, tracing a pattern through the hair on his chest and down to his cock.

He pushed Alex’s hand away from them gently. His panting only increased as Michael took his legs and bent them back slightly. Michael slid down his body so that his mouth hovered over Alex’s now twitching member. Every breath that brushed over him made it jump in anticipation.

He felt Alex’s hand in his hair and looked up at him through his eyelashes. His mouth hung open as his eyes begged for any sort of stimulation. A small bead of precum sat at the tip, threatening to roll down the side.

“You’re so perfect,” Michael said just before taking Alex into his mouth for the first time in years. The salty taste of him was better than he remembered as he slipped most of the way down his shaft. Alex jerked and gasped, tugging on his hair to pull him closer. Michael groaned around him, feeling the way Alex’s fingers tightened again.

Michael rubbed the back of his thighs as he bobbed his head up and down, pushing them open so he could have better access. He let his tongue tease around the head as he slipped further with every down stroke.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex pleaded. He looked up at him to meet his eyes. He felt the shudder run through Alex’s body as he gasped and twisted his other hand into the sheets on the bed. Then Michael sank down again, taking him to the back of his throat and burying his nose in the short hair at the base.

Alex’s hips jerked up and Michael suppressed his gag reflex by gripping his thighs harder. Alex tugged his already swollen bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes fluttered closed and head fell back. Michael wanted to imprint the image of him blissed out into his brain.

He lifted his head until just the tip with in his mouth before sinking back down in one movement. Alex cried out in pleasure as his fingers pulled on Michael’s hair again. He continued the pattern a few more times before pulling off completely. Alex whined in protest. Michael chuckled and smirked up at him. Then he trailed the tip of his tongue down his length and over his balls, sucking one into his mouth briefly before moving to his ass.

Alex’s back arched again as he tried to press closer to Michael’s tongue. He mumbled something incomprehensible when he started teasing his rim. Michael shifted his hands down to his ass, spreading him open.

“Not… enough…” Alex panted out. Michael nipped at the skin of his ass lightly.

“Just be patient, darlin’,” he said sweetly before pressing a kiss to his skin. Then he pressed his tongue flat against his hole while his thumb pushed just past the rim. Alex’s hips rocked more as small moans slipped from his lips.

Michael worked his thumb in slowly, letting the tip of his tongue slip in alongside it. He pressed against Alex’s walls, urging him open. Alex groaned from above him and grabbed handfuls of his hair, yanking him back up his body to crush their mouths together. Michael didn’t exactly fight hard against it.

He kept his fingers at his hole, slipping his middle finger in and out of him teasingly. Alex bit at his lips and shoved his tongue into his mouth. It stole Michael’s breath away, feeling the desperation he poured into the kiss. He only hoped Alex could feel the same from him. He didn’t get the chance to reciprocate for long because Alex pulled away, instead pressing their foreheads together.

“Tell me you have lube,” he said, voice shaking and breathy.

“Of course.” Michael reached out with his mind to the lowest drawer under the sink. He floated the bottle toward them and dropped it on the bed. “You saying you didn’t like my attentions?” he teased with a smile.

“I liked it too much,” Alex said, brushing their lips together and rocking his hips against Michael’s fingers. “I need to feel you inside me again. To be as close to you as possible. To lose track of where I end and you begin.”

He couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on his face. Michael would do anything for Alex. Bend to his every whim and request.

So he removed his finger from Alex’s hole and instead wrapped his arm around his waist and the other around his back. He pulled him up so he was sitting on his thighs as Michael kneeled on the bed. Alex wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him close.

Michael kissed him again, soft and slow. He gripped Alex’s skin, digging his fingers into the muscle. Alex sighed and held him tighter in return. When he was sure he was balanced on his thighs, he reached for the bottle and flicked the cap open. Realizing he was going to need to hands, he pulled his lips away from Alex. There was a small noise of protest that Michael silenced with a quick peck.

“Hold on to me,” he breathed over his lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of letting go.”

He released Alex slowly as their lips slipped over each other again. Michael squeezed a small amount of lube on his fingers. He rubbed it around for a moment before finding Alex’s entrance again. Alex gasped as his fingers prodded the opening.

There was little resistance to the first finger from Michael’s earlier attention. The lube made the second finger slip in just as easily. Alex sighed his name as his hips started rocking slowly. The friction against Michael’s own cock was wholly welcome, making him moan.

Michael twisted and pressed his fingers inside him, looking for the sweet spot he knew would earn him more noises. Alex’s mouth fell open when he finally found it and he could only grin as he swallowed the moan that tumbled from his lips. He massaged his prostate. A few soft strokes followed by a firm press.

Alex’s cock twitched and throbbed against his with every movement. As much as Michael wanted to continue like this until Alex made a mess of them both, he didn’t want to wait anymore. He pulled his fingers out slowly, giving one more teasing press to the spot.

Michael grabbed the lube bottle again, pouring more onto his fingers. He snapped the lid closed and tossed it to the side, hardly registering the sound of it falling to the floor. He carefully shifted Alex back so he could cover his cock in the lube.

Once fully coated, he pulled back to rest his forehead against Alex’s. They both panted as they met each other’s eyes. Michael wrapped an arm around his waist.

“You want this?” he asked a final time. Alex just beamed at him before pulling him back in for a searing kiss.

“Yes. I need you, Michael.”

Michael could only groan in response, claiming his lips again. He lowered Alex back to the bed and he almost immediately wrapped his legs around his waist. With his free hand, Michael guided his cock to Alex’s hole. He pressed himself against the rim, slowly rolling his hips until the tip entered him.

Michael saw stars behind his eyes as he tried to keep his movements slow. The temptation to bury himself in the warmth of Alex was overwhelming. Their moans overlapped as he pushed farther in. He nearly fell forward, needing to brace himself using the arm that had been hold Alex.

“I love you, Michael,” Alex suddenly rushed out. Michael’s eyes opened to meet Alex’s. He had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on his face. His eyes were half lidded but still completely focused on Michael. “I love you,” he repeated.

His heart soared higher than ever. He never thought he would know this kind of joy. But the man wrapped in his arms was offering it so openly and completely. No extra conditions. Just all the love he could possibly give.

A tear spilled down Michael’s face as he pushed himself completely into Alex. Their mouths fell open and Alex refused to look away from him. He pulled out slightly and pushed in again, this time hearing the moans fall from his own lips.

“God, Alex…” he sighed, letting his head fall to his shoulder as he continued the steady thrusting of his hips.

Michael pressed his lips to his shoulder before sucking on the spot, massaging a mark into his skin. Alex moaned softly as his hips came up to meet Michael’s next thrust. He scratched his nails up and down Michael’s back, distracting him from his rhythm. His hips jerked forward roughly once, making them both gasp at the feeling.

He picked up his rhythm again, moving faster, starting to chase the high that comes with orgasm. Alex clenched around him, moving his own hips in time with Michael. He stopped holding back his moans, instead letting them vibrate over Alex’s skin.

He could feel Alex’s heartbeat from where their chests were pressed together. It pounded just as hard as his own. Possibly threatening to burst from how full of love it was. Alex’s moans were music to his ears. Small plea’s begging for more finally registered in his brain. And he would never deny Alex.

“I’m so close, Michael,” he whined next to his ear. Michael was on the edge too. So he pulled his head from Alex’s shoulder and kissed him again as he sped up his hips again, trying to match the racing of his heartbeat.

He had lost track of his body. He could only feel Alex wrapped around him, fitting perfectly against his skin. Michael ground his hips against Alex’s ass, breaking his even pattern in an effort to feel more of him.

After that he didn’t know what came over him. His hand was pressing to Alex’s chest as his hips only got rougher and more erratic. He could feel the heat rippling out from his hand. Alex cried out and arched against him, one of his own hands moving to cover Michael’s.

“Alex, Alex, Alex,” he panted out.

“Michael!” He felt the spasm of his body against his own, then the warmth of the liquid running between them.

His own orgasm rushed up to him, no time to even consider pulling out. Not that he even wanted to. His hips thrust forward roughly, burying him inside of Alex as his cock emptied. A long moan accompanied each of his last thrusts until he was shaking from the overstimulation.

Michael collapsed against Alex, laying his head against his chest. Alex’s free hand pet his hair gently as their breathing started to even out. Michael dozed and Alex’s occasional snores let him know he wasn’t the only one. It couldn’t have been that long because the mess between them hadn’t dried.

He pulled his eyes open to see his hand placed firmly over Alex’s heart and his hand still covering Michael’s. He lifted his hand slowly and the bright pink, iridescent handprint seemed to ripple with Alex’s breathing.

“You could have warned me how intense it would be,” Alex said quietly, a light and content tone to his voice. Michael pushed himself up slightly to see his face. The sweet smile that always made his heart flutter was back and internally he sighed in relief.

“Had I known it was going to be I would have,” he said, lifting a finger brush over his cheek. “I’m sorry for the handprint. I didn’t—” Alex pulled him in and kissed him, stopping his apology.

“I’m so happy, Michael. About everything. I love you so much,” he said when he pulled away. Michael smiled at him and pressed another kiss to his lips, lingering just slightly when he pulled away.

“I love you, Alex.” Alex held his face gently with a fondness glittering in his eyes.

“I told you to wait until the serum had worn off,” he joked. The fog in his mind had completely vanished though he couldn’t quite remember when. He was still pouring his heart out to Alex but it was because he wanted to. He never wanted to hide anything from him. He never wanted to lie to him.

“It wore off already. I don’t feel the need to say everything I’m thinking,” he said, inching closer to Alex’s lips again. “But I still want to tell you everything. Because right now, all I can think about is you.”

#malex #malex fanfiction #malex fic #roswell new mexico fic #michael guerin/alex manes #michael guerin #alex manes #coda #3x09 coda

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the-modernmary · 4 years

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.

A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!

masterlist || read on ao3

“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky

Cheap high, lullaby

Then my best habit’s letting you down”

- The Maine, “My Best Habit”

Two years earlier

Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.

It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.

But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.

You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.

When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.

“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.

He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.

You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.

“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.

You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.

Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.

You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.

“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”

You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”

You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.

That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”

You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.

You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.

Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.

In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.

“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.

Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.

Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”

Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.

You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”

That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.

Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.

“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.

It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.

You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.

His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”

You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.

The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.

He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”

Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.

He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.

“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”

His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.

He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.

“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.

His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”

You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”

“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”

He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.

You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.

“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”

Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.

You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.

You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.

Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #my best habit #my writing

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racheloveyunho · 3 years

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Till Death do us part - 1

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2486

TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

Chapter 1

I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.

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5 years ago.

"Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.

I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.

"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.

“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.

“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.

I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.

“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.

“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.

He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.

But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.

My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.

He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.

“Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.

“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.

“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”

Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.

Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.

I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.

My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.

I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.

8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.

“Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.

I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.

It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.

A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.

I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.

“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.

I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.

I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.

“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.

I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.

The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.

They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.

“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.

He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.

I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.

When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.

I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.

I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath. I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.

“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.

I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.

How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?

“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.

I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.

“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.

“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”

He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.

My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.

“You’re welcome”

I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.

He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.

“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.

He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.

‘But he is really handsome…’ I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.

His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”

I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.

‘What the fuck?’

“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.

He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.

I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

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This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!

This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.

Thank you for reading!

#choi san #san ateez #san #mafia ateez #mafia au #ateez scenario #ateez au #kpop #kpop mafia #ateez angst #ateez fluff #strangers to lovers #ateez series

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hotkoyo · 3 years

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SFW Howie Alphabet Headcanons

Author's Note: When will my husband come home from war?

Disclaimer: These headcanons are based on how I imagine Howie to be based on the game. You don't have to agree with what I say here as everyone is free to have their own ideas.

𝄥 𝄞 ── 𝄇

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

VERY affectionate. I honestly feel like he grew up surrounded with so much love and now he’s just overflowing with it. Howie is all about showing his love through warm hugs, having his arm around you, swinging your hands as you walk, head pats, you name it. Another one, in my opinion, is words of affirmation. He'd tell you how much you matter to him through words, like quoting lines from his favorite movies and saying "I love you" before you both go to sleep.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Affectionate. Lots of play fighting and cuddling during movie sessions. Singing to Disney songs at the top of your lungs. You guys make friendship bracelets for each other (and he never takes off his). Definitely one of those dudes who drive their best friend everywhere.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

If it’s not apparent already, this dude is a giant golden retriever and he lives for the cuddles. He is born to cuddle, baby. Due to his size, it’s natural that he ends up as a big spoon more often than not but he definitely loves the moments he gets to be the small spoon.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

So domestic, even when you guys just started dating. It’s easy to imagine yourself settling down with someone as warm and comforting as Howie. He would love to settle down and build a home with you and you guys love having conversations about your dream house and how your life would be like in five, ten years. He’s alright at cooking in general but can cook some amazing Chinese dishes that his mom taught him.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would be hard for him to get out of a relationship, to be completely honest. He’s one of those people who easily gets attachment issues and finds it hard to move on from a relationship. If he really has to be the one to end the relationship, he would want to talk it out with you and try to end your relationship on a good note. I feel like he’s one of those people who really values respect, even when things aren’t working out anymore between you two.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Howie is a hopeless romantic and while he does have his insecurities, I feel like he would really love to commit to someone. In terms of marriage, it really depends on you. I don’t think his career would hinder him much when it comes to popping the question, to be honest. If he feels like he’s comfortable enough with the relationship and sees that you are, too, I think he’d propose to you when he feels like the time is right.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Howie is a textbook example of a gentle giant. He knows he’s strong so physically, he knows when to hold back a bit. Emotionally, it’s canon that he’s a soft and caring boy through and through and he would never hurt you on purpose.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Ugh, he LOVES hugs. It’s canon that the Yan fam is really good with hugs so if you need a pick-me-up, he’s your man. Whenever you guys are alone, he acts like an overgrown koala because he can’t get enough of hugging you. If hot chocolate is a hug, it’s what Howie’s would feel like. Warm, familiar, and comforting.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He knows he loves you when he does but holds back a lot in fear of coming off too strong. If he feels that you feel the same, then he would say it pretty quickly into the relationship or during a spur of a moment. If it seems that you need more time, he would hold back just so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s the type who’s less jealous and more insecure. His jealousy isn’t going to make him act rashly and put you on the spot. It’s slow and creeping and you might not notice at first because of how well he conceals it but it becomes apparent by the way he starts to act distant.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Warm and gentle. His kisses make you feel so safe and loved and he likes to take the time to show you how he feels through the gesture. He loves to kiss you everywhere but his favorite places to kiss you are your nose and temples.

Also, kiss him on the forehead and he’d melt into a puddle. Another one of his hotspots is at the back of his neck. Kiss him there and watch him sputter as he tries to gain back his bearings.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He loves kids, kids love him. He humors the kids a lot and is a great impersonator so prepare yourself for some improvised skits in front of the kiddos. Can’t say no to the kids, though, so you might have to step in from time to time. Kids treat him like a human jungle gym. Which he actually is.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

I definitely see him as a morning person. Also, he’s so fit that you can’t tell me he doesn’t workout every single morning. Probably goes on an early jog and is one of those people who seems so chipper even if it's only seven in the morning.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Have you seen actors with their stage makeup on? There’s no way Howie’s skin stays so smooth and supple without some form of skincare routine. Has his own skincare routine and loves doing it with you together in front of the mirror (while making faces at you). After a good skincare session, he'll sit on the couch or in bed with you cuddled up to him as he reads scripts from his new upcoming projects.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Depending on how much he trusts you, it could be sooner or later. The thing with him is that he keeps things bottled up to himself. It’s hard and it’s tiring and the moment he feels safe with you, the dam breaks and he starts to reveal things about himself.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It’s definitely hard to annoy Howie and even harder to provoke him. He has the patience of a saint and unless something is very wrong, you can always find him just chillin lol.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s quite sentimental so he definitely remembers your relationship milestones. He remembers a lot of small things about you; like how you like your cereal and your best friend’s name from high school. Some of the details can be fuzzy at times but he tries!

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Canonically: The moment you said yes when he asked to be your boyfriend at Luca’s "sister's wedding".

Headcanon: The time you both visited his family in Chicago for the holidays. You were walking home from dinner when the snowfall turned into a snowstorm. It was terribly cold and windy but you both kept on laughing at the situation and you looked so gorgeous with snow stuck to your hair under the waning streetlight that he didn’t even care that he's freezing his butt off.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Isn’t too protective in the traditional sense because he knows you can take care of yourself. More protective of how you feel because of his words and actions so he’s careful in what he says and how he says them because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. Highkey loves to be protected tho. Thinks it's kinda hot.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Puts a lot of effort in his career, obviously. Howie is always so passionate and ambitious when it comes to being a top actor. Relationship-wise, he’s a simp. Dates are mostly casual with him but he puts extra time and effort in choosing or making gifts. All the extra and expensive bits goes into your anniversary dates.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

A lot of times, he leaves his wet, sweaty workout shirts at the corner of the room and somehow always forgets no matter how many times you’ve scolded him. Sometimes doesn’t close or tie snack packages properly so when it's your turn to eat them, they’re often stale. A terrible snorer when he’s had a long day on set.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Quite concerned. He likes to highlight the nice parts of his body through the clothes he choose to wear and tries to follow a healthy diet in general. He worked hard for his body and as much as embarrassing as it is to admit, he loves to show off and be admired for it (especially by you).

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

A strong believer that every person is complete and whole on their own. He believes that every person is their own and just because you love someone, it doesn't mean that your life must revolve around that person. Even so, he is a romantic. So even if he knows that he's complete without you, he does prefer to have you by his side.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He can play the piano really well. Aside from dance lessons, his parents put aside a lot of money to sign him up for piano classes when he was younger. Now, he plays them whenever he’s deep in thought and it’s always relaxing to hear him play.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

In general, Howie doesn’t like broccoli. Keep those away from him. Please. When it comes to partners, Howie stays away from people who make him feel less. Basically people who put him down for being who he is and liking the things he likes. Narcissists, if you will.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He’s a snuggler and he nuzzles into your side a lot when he sleeps. Whether you get too warm is your problem because this dude is Strong™ and won’t let you push him aside that easily. And, God, I hate to say this but he’s definitely a snorer. Not all the time but when he’s really tired.... let’s just say you won’t be getting a decent sleep.

#howie yan #roadkill howie #fictif howie #fictif roadkill #roadkill #fictif #fictif nix hydra #nix hydra #howie yan headcanons #fictif howie headcanons

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a-supernatural-writer · 3 years

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hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look.

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge.

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining.

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them.

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy.

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest.

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes.

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko.

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green.

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look.

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess.

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour.

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed.

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute.

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it.

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips.

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night.

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along.

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes.

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so.

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions.

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights.

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here.

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it.

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to.

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort.

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks.

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings.

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat.

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm.

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires.

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them.

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed.

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out.

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own.

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

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komunyoung · 3 years

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Get To Know the Blogger!

Hi everyone. I’ve been on this website for a couple of years now so I thought I’d do a little “get to know me” post to pin to the top of my blog for a while. There are a couple of reasons for this, but the main one is that my level of activity is changing and I get a little anxious about one day vanishing without a trace.

Why are you anxious about that and why is that relevant?

A couple of people who I interact with and who follow me here do know this, but in simple terms: I currently have cancer. I was diagnosed in late 2021 and it has obviously been a huge shock and something I’ve needed to adjust to. Consequently I’m now undergoing treatment, including chemotherapy, and that takes a lot of energy out of me.

The way I live has changed, so the way I consume media and create content has changed.

Are you still making gifs?

Yes! I make them when I feel up to it, and I make what I feel like. I’m happy to take requests, but if you request something and I take a long time to get to it... this could be because I’m mid treatment. Please don’t request anything from me and expect a fast turnaround, I’m doing everything slowly and sporadically, even my own choice gifs.

The biggest change right now is that I’m watching less content. I’m not putting effort into keeping up to date with things and I’m not watching as many things at the same time. I’m creating less because I’m taking in less.

Who am I?

name: Elly location: Australia age: 29 at time of writing this types of shows I watch: primarily kdramas but I also watch cdramas and jdramas, basically anything I can access that interests me types of shows I gif: right now I stick to kdramas, and the occasional kpop idol if I really like them networks and blogs i contribute to: kdramanetwork, kdramaspace, asiandramanet, and kdramaladies! other facts about me: I’m doing a masters degree in creative writing, I like reading, I like cooking, I have two cats, I want to speak another language but I’m lazy about learning recent dramas I’ve loved: doom at your service, the king’s affection, happiness, dali and the cocky prince

About my blog

I’m currently running my blog on a queue of 12 posts per 24 hours. I post original creations whenever I feel like it and then add them to the queue at least once, more if I’m really proud of them. Sometimes I fill my queue with sets I’ve made months ago, because I like them and I hope that people who are new to my blog will see them for the first time. Sometimes I run out of queue. Like I said above... my time on tumblr is sporadic now.

Can I reach out to you for a chat?

You absolutely can! You want to talk drama, books, history, skincare routines? I’m here. I’m spending a lot of time confined to my house between hospital visits so a conversation is welcome regardless of whether we’ve ever interacted or not.

#get to know me #tw chronic illness #tw cancer #this has been sitting in my drafts for a few days and I don't know yet if I'm going to regret it #maybe i will maybe i won't #maybe i just need to scream about being alive idk

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songbirdstyles · 4 years

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good vibrations.

summary: it’s a bit more difficult than you’d expected to maintain a relationship with your professor, but you and harry try your best, anyway. (sequel to when i kissed the teacher)

pairing: professor!harry styles x reader

warnings: smut, angst & fluff! m + f receiving oral, facesitting, 69ing. gross frat boys :-(

word count: 14.3k

song inspo.: good vibrations - the beach boys

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a slight jolt of panic.

Your eyes open slowly, staring at the ceiling above you, and that - in itself - is normal. But there’s something heavy wrapped around your waist and a soft aroma of men’s cologne and that’s when confusion settles into your bones.

It lasts a few mere seconds but it’s enough to make you sit up, leaning back against the headboard and rubbing your fists into your eyes. Harry’s arm, firm around your torso just seconds before, drops to your lap, and your eyes follow the path down his arm and to the rest of him. Perhaps it’s strange, gazing at him as he sleeps, unaware of your gaze, but it’s hard to help yourself.

His hair is messy, curls sticking up everywhere, and his face is buried into the pillow your head had just been on. He’s also naked, the duvet falling to just above his bum, and as your eyes trail down the expanse of his bare back, taking particular note of the light pink scratches adorning the top, that’s when the night prior finally comes back to you. Being eaten out against the wall, a playlist made of pure love, his hands on your face as he promises this isn’t a one time thing.

Your professor, fucking you so hard that there’s still a slight ache between your thighs.

You exhale, dropping your head back against the headboard. The thought overwhelms you, momentarily, but you don’t have too much time to dwell on it before you feel Harry stirring besides you, his arm leaving your lap as he rolls over onto his back. His eyes open slowly, squinting as he adjusts to the sunlight streaming through the window, and then he looks at you and the smile that upturns his lips could make you tear up.

“G’morning, baby,” Harry murmurs, voice throaty and quiet. “Hope you had a nice sleep.”

You grin as you watch him slowly sit up, stretching his arms above his head. “It was alright,” you tell him, pausing to yawn. “Your bed is much more comfortable than the one in my dorm.”

“I’m sure.” You scoot forward, and just as Harry turns his head to look at you you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. They’re dry and you’re sure yours are too - it’s not as though you’d been concerned with putting on lip balm the night before - but it’s perfect, made even better as he presses his hand to your back, pulling your body closer into his, running his tongue along your bottom lip.

A soft moan falls from your lips and he pulls back, nails running along the back of your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. “So needy. S’only 8 in the morning, too.”

You push yourself to your knees and sink into his lap, feeling his hard on against your thigh that proves he’s just as needy as you are, even at 8 in the morning. “Can’t help it,” you mutter, leaning in to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. His head drops back, giving you more room to work as his hand creeps up from where it had landed on your hip to your chest, kneading your right breast in his hand while you work at suckling a hickey into his soft skin. When his fingers tweak at your nipple you pull your mouth away to moan and examine the mark you’d made, brushing your thumb over it lightly. You hadn’t gotten the chance to mark him up last night, save for the scratches that decorated his back, but you’re more than happy to make up for any lost time now. “I miss you, professor. Everything about you. It’s been too long.”

He chuckles, trailing his other hand down to run a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness at the tip of his finger and focusing it on your clit. He presses down and then rubs a slow circle into the sensitive nub, smirking as you whimper at the sensation. “It has been too long. Nearly 10 hours, can’t imagine how you - fuck.”

Your hand had snaked down, wrapping around his member and swiping your thumb over the tip of him. Harry leans in, pressing his lips to your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as you slowly jerk him off, pumping your hand up and down his cock. You think - or you hope - that you can give of some sort of facade of being experienced at this, of knowing exactly what you’re doing, because you truthfully have no idea. You’d never given anyone a handjob but Harry’s finger, rubbing your clit slowly, stutters as he breathes out a groan, and you hope that means you’re doing a good job.

Two of his fingers slip inside your cunt entirely too easily, and you whine at the feeling. Harry curls his fingers upwards, brushing against the sweet spot that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’re both too worked up for any type of foreplay, you can tell, and so you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face into yours. Your lips connect, teeth clashing against each other, and when he pulls his fingers out of you, resting both hands on the globes of your ass, you reach down and replace your grasp on his cock, lining it up with your positively dripping entrance before sinking onto him fully.

The burn is a lot less prominent than it had been yesterday but you still hesitate - Harry groans lowly and you exhale, waiting for the ache to morph fully into pleasure before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him. You swear you can feel traces of him in every crevice of your body, feeling so impossibly full and yet so desperate for more. His hands grip your bum, helping you lift yourself up and down, shaky grunts and moans escaping his mouth whenever you roll your hips just right against his.

It’s slower and less intimidating than it had been the night prior, his hips lazily bucking up into yours, now that you’re not so worried about being able to fit him inside of you. And the noises Harry makes spur you on - throaty cries nearly louder than yours - as you drag your hand down your stomach and rub circles into your clit, slow and gentle, because you know you’re not going to need much to send you over the edge.

“So fucking tight around me,” Harry breathes, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as his palms smooth over your ass. “Fuck, baby, clench around m’cock, yeah, feels so fuckin’ good -”

Your fingers press harder on your clit and you can already feel your orgasm creeping up on you, and when you rock your hips into Harry’s, feeling his cock brush against your G spot, you toss your head back with a desperate cry, cunt fluttering around him as pleasure rips through your body in waves. Eyes roll back into your head and your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling his head in to kiss you senseless. With one final grunt and a moan of your name, Harry bucks his hips up, pressing himself as deep inside of you as he can get. The feeling of his cum, shot inside your throbbing pussy, shouldn’t feel so spectacular but God it does and you whine at the feeling, bringing both of your hands up to the back of his head and wrapping your fingers in his curls as you roll your hips back and forth halfheartedly. Merely trying to ride him through his orgasm, and finally Harry presses both of his sweaty palms to your face and pulls you in to kiss him again.

You could kiss him all day. You’ve kissed significantly more people than you’ve fucked (which amounts to a grand total of 2) and you’ve never enjoyed it with anyone as much as you love it with him. Harry makes it interesting, you reckon, hands always going in different spots and making different noises and you could, truly, do it all day.

For a moment the two of you sit there after you’ve pulled your heads away, Harry’s arms wrapped around your back and holding your body to his in a rather intimate hug. Your nails scratch at his scalp, pressing your chin into his shoulder as his fingers trace patterns - tell stories - on the soft skin of your back. Yes, you could stay here forever and be quite happy about it but just as the thought resides in your mind your stomach growls in defiance and Harry laughs at the noise.

“Don’t laugh,” you tell him, voice faux angry as you pull back from him with a smile. “Didn’t have anything to eat last night.”

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow and you nod. “So what did you do before I picked you up?”

Your cheeks heat as you struggle to find your voice to respond, clearing your throat before saying, “Keeping m’self busy, I guess. Now can we please make breakfast?”

Twenty minutes later you’re seated at Harry’s kitchen table, collecting forkfuls of cheesy eggs on your fork and shoveling them into your mouth to appease your overtly ravenous appetite, listening intently to the music coming from Harry’s phone in the kitchen. It’s a song you recognize from the playlist he’d curated the day prior - Happy Together by the Turtles - and you can’t help the smile from bleeding across your face at the sound.

Besides that, though, and the sounds of your forks scraping your plates, the two of you sit in silence for a moment. Beneath the table your feet knock into his - you’d begun swinging your feet out of slight nervousness but it’s grown into the need to see the small smirk that decorates his lips everytime you kick him gently.

When the song changes from The Turtles to And I Love Her by the Beatles, you glance up at him again and then rest your fork on your plate. “Y’know, this is a really nice playlist.”

Harry looks up at you, brows furrowed, and then smiles, and the sight of his dimples makes your heart just about melt. “Well, thank you, baby. Put a lot of effort into it.”

Part of you wants to say it only took you ten minutes but you just nod and tell him, “But I think you might’ve added too many Beatles songs.”

“There’s no such thing,” he says, and you raise your eyebrows. “S’not my fault they’ve written some of the greatest love songs of all time.”

You snort, then, leaning back in his (oddly comfortable, considering the quality of that in his office) kitchen chair. “Sexy Sadie is not one of the greatest love songs of all time.”

He pauses at that, forkful of eggs hanging barely an inch from his mouth. “Well, maybe not that song, but -”

“10 Beatles songs out of 45 is rather excessive.” You giggle as he stands abruptly, marching into the kitchen and returning seconds later, phone in hand, still blaring the Beatles as if in defiance. “What’re you doing now?”

Harry sits back down, scrolling through his phone. You stand up, moving around the table until you’re beside him, and you bend down to look at what he’s doing.

“What song d’you think should replace Sexy Sadie, baby?” Harry asks you, turning his head to where yours is a mere few inches from his. “Since you don’t seem to think that one is very romantic.”

You roll your eyes. “You’d be hard pressed to find a single person who considers that song to be the height of love, professor.”

“Yeah, right.” Briefly Harry rests his phone flat on the table and pushes his chair back, patting his thighs, and you try not to look too pleased as you wiggle into his lap. With his arm firm around your waist and his chin on your shoulder you pick his phone back up, scrolling through Spotify.

“I don’t think you have Good Vibrations on that love playlist, Harry,” you decide. Just to confirm your suspicion you go back into the playlist, scrolling through all 45 songs and - as you’d thought - the lack of Good Vibrations is odd to you. “And that, professor, may just be the best love song of all time.”

He hums as you add the song to the playlist. “Better than Somebody to Love?”

You shrug, sticking out your bottom lip as you flick through Spotify. “That song just makes me sad, sometimes. And you don’t even have that, either.”

“I definitely do!”

“Nope,” you tell him, turning your head to the side to examine his all-too confused expression. “But you do have Get Down, Make Love, which says quite a bit about you.”

Harry groans, and you laugh, and for a moment that’s all that happens - and then the moment breaks, and he reaches out to take his phone from your grasp, and you shift in his lap to look at him with a soft smile.

Whatever banter you’d been having before slowly dissipates, and you clear your throat. “D’you think we should talk about this?”

His hand drops to your hip, squeezing it through the pink button up shirt he’d worn yesterday that you’d snatched from the bedroom floor. “Don’t really think there’s much to talk about,” he says, but you know that isn’t necessarily true.

Truthfully, the last 12 hours have perhaps been the greatest of your life and even if he told you it wasn’t a one time thing - well, he’d just cum inside you and you need to make sure it wasn’t his way of keeping you for the night. And you couldn’t bring yourself to think Harry’s like that at all - the opposite, truly, the greatest man you’ve ever met. But you need to make sure, to ease your mind.

“Um - I guess -” you struggle for the words, suddenly feeling embarrassed for bringing it up, and Harry’s hand flies up to your cheek, cradling it, and the gentle action has you relaxing almost immediately. “I know you said this wasn’t a - one time thing, or whatever -”

“And it isn’t,” he interrupts, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Not for me.”

“Okay,” you breathe, the turmoil your stomach had been going through calming slightly. “But there’s still other things - you’re still my professor. Seems like kind of a big thing.”

Harry pauses for a moment, and you adjust yourself in his lap again - you can feel the beginning of a boner against your ass but you figure you’ll deal with that later. Then Harry drops his hand from your cheek to the small of your back, massaging soft circles through his shirt, and says, “I want you to know that I’ve never slept with a student before. Never even thought about it.”

You nod, and you know it’s true. You’ve heard girls in class talking about it - how he’s refused his students’ advances and reported them for it, and any rumour of him hooking up with a student was immediately squashed by everyone in the surrounding area. He’s a prude. He’s probably into, like, old ladies, or dudes, or something, because there’s no way he can be a regular guy and not have fucked one of us already.

It made you roll your eyes to listen to, but it did cement in the fact that Harry wasn’t one of the few teachers at university who would willingly hop into bed with any student who asked politely.

“But I like you - a lot.” His hand pauses on your back as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing gently. “If you weren’t my student, things would be perfect.”

Part of you hates the word choice, that things are so imperfect now, but you know it’s true. Know that, even if you simply weren’t in his class, everything would be so much easier.

You nod. “I like you a lot, too.” And then you stop and think before adding, “I think as long as we don’t do anything on campus it’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, leaning in to press a kiss to your nose. It’s as though the two of you can’t live for more than a minute without showing some sort of affection towards each other, and perhaps that should make you concerned but you love it. “We’ll keep everything here. No funny business in m’office or anything like that.”

That resolution lasts roughly a week.

You go to his office after class even though you’ve run out of things to grade, and you work on homework and he helps you study and the most action either of you get is small kisses over his desk. It’s a struggle to pull away from him, but the worry that both of you feel about someone walking in is enough to keep you in your seats.

Though, for the most part, his office hours remain empty. A few stragglers come in, a mix of students who genuinely need help and girls who you can tell hate that you’re in there during their seduction attempts. And Harry plays music, of course, turning it down to the lowest volume on the rare occasions that students come in.

At the end of the day, you walk out to his car together and Harry either drives you home or to his apartment - depends what you’re feeling that day - and in the morning he either picks you up or takes you from his apartment to your first class and it’s a nearly perfect arrangement.

You’ve forgotten, though, about your decision to remain innocent on campus. It’s what you’d expected to happen at some point, with your absolute desperation for each other, but it still manages to slightly shock you as you glance up at him from your spot on your knees. Your hand works at his dick, watching the way he drops his head back against the wall, grasping the cushions of the couch in his fingers.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice cracking on the c, though you can’t quite hear it over Waterloo by ABBA playing just a bit too loudly in his small office. You’d made sure to crank the volume up a bit more than usual in case he let out any too-loud noises, and it looked like he was on his way to doing just that as a grunt escapes from between his gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby -”

(You’ve never given a blowjob before but it seems easy enough, though your stomach turns pathetically as you lean in and lick a thin stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing a purple vein. He seems to like that and you pray he can’t tell you’re an absolute amateur at this all.)

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, which you know he likes, and the moan that’s still barely audible beneath the music proves it. You make sure to keep your eyes on Harry, monitoring his every reaction as you lean in, wrapping your lips around the tip of his length and sliding as much of him as you can down your throat.

That’s good. Harry’s hand goes to the back of your head, wrapping his fingers in the strands of your hair and tugging, groaning near violently, his breathing laboured. “Jesus Christ.”

Your hand drops to the base of his cock, pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth which - admittedly - is just barely less than half. You swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock before pulling your mouth off of him, a string of saliva still connecting your lips and his member.

“Feel good, professor?” you ask, sticking your bottom lip out, but you know very well it does - Harry’s hand goes down to your lips, wiping your spit off of your skin, before leaning back again. “Sure looks it.”

“Keep going, m’girl.”

The thought of being his girl brings a slight smile to your lips, and you could bask in the words for the rest of the day but instead you lean in, bracing both of your hands on his thighs through his nice dress bands, wrinkling beneath your fingers. And now - you really don’t know what to do, besides exactly what you’d done before - but you wrap your lips around him again, lowering your head to take more of him than before, and then you hollow your cheeks (which you’d seen in porn) and swallow around him (which you’d also seen in porn.)

It has the desired effect, seemingly, as Harry yelps, fingers tightening in your hair tight enough that you can begin to feel strands disconnecting from your scalp but oddly enough, you sort of like it. His grip loosens near immediately, scratching your head with the tips of his fingers in some sort of silent apology. Harry certainly seems to like that so you do it again, gathering saliva in the back of your throat and swallowing again, and he moans, the noise cutting through the music (which had turned to Oh, Pretty Woman), and if there happened to be anyone outside they would hear it louder than anything else.

It doesn’t make either of you stop. You pull off of him, sucking in a desperate breath as you pump him in your hand again before going back in, working your mouth up and down his length, relishing in the soft noises that escaped him with every one of your movements.

“God, baby, taking me so well,” Harry mutters, brushing a stray curl off your face. As your tongue flicks over his tip again his hips buck up into your mouth of their own accord - you gag around him and he breathes out a quiet apology but you can tell he’s almost there, and finally he groans, “Gonna cum - fuck - m’gonna cum -”

Perhaps it was a warning so you would pull your mouth off of him, revert to jerking him off, but you may as well finish your first blowjob off with a bang, so you take nearly all of his member into your mouth and suck. You barely get a few seconds before you can feel the ribbons of warm cum shooting into the back of your throat, and when Harry’s moans quiet down into heavy pants you pull off of him. His cum in your mouth doesn’t taste particularly fabulous but you swallow it anyway - it’s not horrible, truthfully. And the way his eyes darken as he watches you makes the slightly unpleasant taste ten times better, anyway.

“C’mere,” Harry tells you, and you rise from your knees to stand between his legs, looking down at him as he tucks himself back into his dress pants. When he buttons them he looks almost normal, not like his dick was down your throat a minute before - but you can tell, looking into his eyes, the effect you’d had on him. “Christ, you’re good at that.”

You hum, bending down to press a kiss to his lips. “Funny how fast you dropped the whole not doing anything on campus act, professor.”

Harry rolls his eyes, rising from his spot sunk into the couch. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

(But it does, of course.)

(Again and again.)

You throw your body across the couch in Harry’s office as soon as you shut the door, dropping your bag to the ground. You pretend not to notice the slightly amused glance your professor gives you - he’s marking up someone’s essay though he’d only assigned them a few days before and you had hardly even looked at the rubric for it. There’s only a few that have been handed in and when you offered, the day prior, to help him grading, he told you he didn’t need it. And you didn’t press it any further, naturally.

Well, you didn’t mind not grading. It was tedious and boring, and you’d only slightly enjoyed it before because you got to spend time with Harry. And you don’t exactly need an excuse, anymore. You can do what you want with him, now, like lying on his couch and kicking your Vans off onto his plush blue rug. There’s already music pulsing through his office, though not a song you recognize from being on the playlist he’d made for you - Strangers by The Kinks.

“Feel free to make yourself at home,” Harry tells you, voice positively dripping in sarcasm, and you roll your eyes with a small smile.

Your phone is buzzing in your pocket and you pick it up, glancing at the text that came in - from Kaitlyn, your best friend, and you scan the what’s up?? that she’d sent you before tossing your phone onto the couch besides you. You’ll answer her later, maybe call her. Thinking of it, you hadn’t talked to her in a bit, but - you’ll call her later, yeah. Catch up.

“Figure I’m going to be here a while, professor. I’ve got an essay for my creative writing class due on -” you pause to think - “Friday and I’ve barely done the draft.”

He furrows his eyebrows as he looks at you, and you don’t even have to glance up at him to feel the slight air of disappointing wafting towards you. “Baby.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s Wednesday. You’ve got an essay due Friday and you haven’t started?”

You shrug, feeling heat flock to your cheeks as you bend to reach into your bag, tugging out your laptop that you, really, only use for essays. “I have started, but I’ve been a bit distracted, I guess.” The only thing you’ve been distracted by is him, truthfully, and he knows it.

For a moment there’s silence filling the air between you, only disturbed by the sounds of your fingers moving over your keyboard. You’ve suddenly felt quite inspired to get a move on with your essay, oddly, and you think that Harry may be the perfect cure to your procrastination habits.

“D’you want my help?�� Harry asks, his voice oddly gentle. He’s never necessarily helped you with any homework before though he always asks if you need it, and usually you’d tell him you’re fine but - well, his feedback would be appreciated since you, admittedly, don’t have too much time before this dumb paper is due, so you nod quickly.

Then Harry stands from his spinning chair, letting it roll into the wall behind him and dropping his red pen on top of the essay he’d been grading. You barely have time to look up at him, straining his neck to look at what you have so far for your essay, and you roll your eyes playfully before turning the screen so he can read it.

His eyes move fast as he reads what you have so far, which isn’t enough for how long it takes him to examine your work. You take the time to admire him, the way he pokes his tongue out every so often to wet his lips (which, you’ve noticed, he seems to prefer over wearing lip balm) and the way his eyebrows furrow when he reads certain lines. Harry’s fingers drum against your computer, following the rhythm of the music, and after a minute he leans back on his heels and pushes your laptop away from him, fingers brushing against the soft skin of your stomach from where your shirt has ever-so-slightly ridden up.

You wait a moment for him to speak, and then ask, “Was it horrible? You look like it was horrible.”

Harry shakes his head, curls flopping back and forth (you’re reminded of the beginning of the year, when he used to gel his hair back, though it had grown quite a bit since that point, and you’re not sure gel could have its desired effect on his locks.) “It’s not horrible at all. It’s quite good, actually. Sometimes your sentence structure is a bit wonky, like -” he leans in, tugging your laptop back into his view, fingers dancing across your skin again in a way that you know isn’t accidental, and then he highlights a line smack in the middle of your draft - “here, and a few other spots. But it’s good.” You must do a poor job at concealing the relief on your face, because Harry glances at you and chuckles. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re a great writer. Best that’s ever come into my class, and I’m sure your creative writing professor agrees.”

You shake your head, turning your computer back around so it’s facing you. “I don’t think Professor Capone likes my writing too much. I’m barely scraping an A in her class, but maybe she’s just a tough grader.”

“Reckon she’s just a tough grader. I’ve heard that before.” Harry nods thoughtfully and you can’t help but giggle at the suddenly serious expression that takes over his face, as though whether Capone is a tough grader is akin to the meaning of life. His brows furrow and he glances down at you with a bemused smile. “What’re you laughing at?”

“M’not sure, really,” you tell him, grin spreading across your face. He watches you for a second and then leans down, lips hovering barely a centimeter above yours, and you let your lips touch for just a moment before pushing him away. “Now, c’mon professor, what happened to we shouldn’t do anything in the classroom?” The fact that you two had done just about everything but having truly fucked in this office goes unmentioned, of course.

His response is interrupted by the door opening slowly behind him - your eyes widen and he stands immediately, clearing his throat and backing up so he’s leaning against his desk, cheeks flushed red.

In the doorway is a girl you recognize from your class - Hannah Joseph, you think, and you also believe you’d graded her essay. You give her a small smile and she looks down at you, lying on the professor’s couch with your shoes off, with an air of distinct confusion.

“Miss Joseph.” Harry clears his throat, drumming his fingers against his desk. “What can I do for you, today?”

She pauses, glancing between the two of you with furrowed brows, and you bury yourself back into your essay. Everything about this situation feels wrong and you hate it, hate the energy flowing beside Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen. “Um - sorry if I’ve interrupted something.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at Hannah’s words - she can’t possibly know what the two of you had been doing but you still feel like she does, like she’d been watching you two. If Harry is as nervous as you are about the entire situation he certainly doesn’t show it, just grins at her and says, “Not interrupting anything! Just helping Y/N with her essay, here.”

It isn’t convincing and you can tell Hannah agrees, but she merely shakes her head and makes her way to the desk - Harry walks to the other side and plops in his chair and she takes a seat in the entirely uncomfortable one that you’d opted out of.

She has a question about the essay he’d assigned, naturally. There’s not quite any other reason she should be here but it doesn’t stop your worries. What if she told people she’d seen something suspicious in Professor Styles’ office when she went during his office hours?

You two had been stupid. He was right, you shouldn’t do anything in his office. It’s stupid.

By the time you’ve completed the second to last paragraph of your rough draft Hannah is pushing her chair back, bidding farewell to Harry and giving you a small wave as she leaves - you call goodbye as cheerfully as you can manage as she shuts the door firmly behind her, the noise reverberating through the small room.

There’s silence, at first.

And then Harry sighs, dropping his head into his hands, and you push yourself to sit up, your laptop shutting of its own accord. “Fuck.”

You swallow, glancing down at the light grey fabric of your sweatpants and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Yeah. Fuck.”

Born to Run changes into Livin’ Thing by ELO and you’re not sure of what to say, until finally Harry rests his chin on his palms and says, “We can’t take risks anymore, I think. That was really close.” Then he pauses and adds, “Even having you in my office for so long is suspicious. Maybe - maybe we shouldn’t, anymore.”

You nod. Not going to his office every day will certainly be a change, you suppose, even if it’s for the best. You love every moment you spend with him in the cramped office space. And though you know you’ll hate to not be able to kiss him in his office or anything of the sort you know it’s best - the absolute worst thing that could happen is someone walking in while you and Harry are truly in a compromising situation. “Yeah. We can just keep it at your apartment. Nothing wrong with that, now, is there?”

Harry gives a tight lipped grin and then hesitates. “Maybe it’s better too. I feel bad, sometimes. We spend so much time together - feel like I’m taking away your college experience.”

You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward to rest your chin against the edge of his desk. “My college experience?”

“Y’know - partying and stuff. That’s most people’s favourite parts of college.”

You pause. You’d been to a few parties during the year but they’d never appealed to you much, and truthfully, you’d rather spend your time holed up in Harry’s office. “I’d rather be able to remember my college experience. I’m not quite a fan of parties. Much prefer this place.”

He sends you a small smile but you can tell something’s shifted in the room, and you give it a few more minutes of silence - besides the music - before sliding your laptop into your bag and standing up. You swing your bag over your shoulder and glance at him. “I’m gonna head back to my dorm, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry looks up at you and nods, running a hand through his messy curls. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. Text me when you get to your dorm, okay?”

“Alright,” you tell him, and then you give him one final smile and you’re gone.

“How do Borachio and Don John decide to disrupt Hero and Claudio’s marriage?”

You pause, sipping thoughtfully on your spoonful of soup. Harry leans against the kitchen counter, watching as you think. “Borachio will convince Maragret to dress up in Hero’s clothes and then Borachio will fuck her on the balcony so Claudio will see.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, nodding subtly and scrolling through his phone for another brief moment. “And what becomes of Hero when Don John sets her up?”

“She dies.”

He nods again and then slides his phone into the pocket of his pajama pants, taking a step forward to where you’re seated on the counter. “You didn’t get a single question wrong, you know.”

You shrug, fighting off the smile that wants to appear on your lips. “Well, I’ve read it a lot, professor. Know that play inside and out, really.”

“Ah.” You open your legs so Harry can slot his body between them, resting his hands on your hips through the oversized sweater you’d bought from the thrift store years ago. “So why’d you want to come over, then? Clearly wasn’t to study, now was it.”

It’s not a question, but you still tilt your head thoughtfully to the side as if in deep thought. Truthfully, it had been a few days since the two of you abolished your time together in his office and it had drastically reduced the time you spent with him. He’s invited you over every night he got home early enough but to go from every day for hours to one or two on certain days is a change you don’t particularly enjoy, even if it’s necessary.

Hence, begging him to help you study. But you still shrug and say, “no, it was. No better person to help me study than my professor.”

“Mhm,” Harry twirls your hair around his finger, then pulls back, pressing his lips briefly to your forehead. “You know you don’t need an excuse to come over.”

You feign offense, sticking out your bottom lip. “Wasn’t an excuse to -”

“I’m not saying it was,” he grins and you cross your arms, smiling softly. “But I just want you to know. You can come here whenever. M’always happy to have you here.”

Internally, your heart melts - but before you can respond you can hear the telltale noise of your phone ringing from where you’d tossed it on the couch earlier when you’d arrived. You groan, dropping your head back against the cabinet before pushing yourself off the counter, padding into the living room. Marie sits, curled up on top of the couch, and you brush your fingers down her back as you glance at whoever’s calling you.

It’s Kaitlyn, and you wince - you’d told yourself you would call her nearly ten times this week but you’d gotten too distracted. By Harry, mainly, but also your essay and the rest of your schoolwork, and you’re tempted to ignore this one too in favor of your professor in the kitchen but instead you press accept and bring the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Kaity,” you say, and hearing her small hey on the other end brings a smile to your face. “What’s up?”

“Well, Dylan and I are going to dinner in like, an hour. D’you want to meet us there? I feel like we haven’t talked - all three of us - in forever.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking for a moment. You’d barely been at Harry’s for half an hour but you haven’t seen - or even talked to - your friends in weeks. So you clear your throat and brighten your voice and say, “Sure!”

You can see Harry poke his head out of the kitchen, raising his eyebrows at you, and you bite back a laugh at the site. On the other end, Kaitlyn says, “Cool. See you there, then, and don’t be late, please -” and you say, “Got it,” before hanging up and dropping your phone against the couch.

“Who was that?” Harry asks as you return to the kitchen, his arms wrapping around your smaller frame as he tugs his body to yours.

“My friend, Kaitlyn. I don’t think you know her - she’s a chemistry major.” You wrap your arm around his neck, letting him embrace you before saying, muffled against where your face is buried in his neck, “I’m gonna have to head out soon. Promised I’d meet them at dinner in an hour, and it’s not too short a walk to the cafeteria. But I’ll probably come over after dinner, if that’s okay.”

Harry nods, and when he speaks again you can hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “M’glad you’re going to see your friends,” he tells you, and you smile. “But if you’re gonna leave soon … I guess we better make the most of our time, right?” And you don’t respond before crashing your lips to his.

“I have a question.”

You glance up at your friends, chewing slowly on your bite of noodles. It’s the first time you’ve seen them in - admittedly - a while, nearly three weeks. And it’s a drastic difference when you and them had spent nearly every waking minute together before you’d started seeing Harry, but you didn’t think they’d even notice. After all, Kaitlyn and Dylan had started dating recently, too, and you figured you would give them time off from your third-wheeling.

Well - no, you didn’t figure that. They never gave you an indication that they were bothered by your being there with them, but it was a better excuse than I’ve been fucking my professor, and I haven’t really been thinking of much besides that.

“Yeah?” you tilt your head at Dylan, grabbing your lemonade from the table and taking a sip.

Kaitlyn drops her fork from where she’s been picking at her salad, and then asks, “Well - we’ve kind of been wondering where you’ve been. We haven’t seen you in so long and your roommate said you’re barely there anymore, anyway.”

You raise your eyebrows, squinting at the pair of them in front of you. “You asked my roommate?”

“Well, yeah.” Dylan glances at Kaitlyn and then back at you, and this is beginning to feel like a bit of an intervention. “We didn’t know if you were just mad at us or something.”

“S’not like she’s at our room much, anyway. Always at her boyfriend’s. Nick’s, I think.” You twist more noodles around your fork, making sure to lather them in the slightly-chunky but still edible pasta sauce that the cafeteria had made for today. “I’ve been at my room loads.”

It’s not necessarily the truth but you wouldn’t call it a lie, either. Since you’d stopped going to Harry’s office you’d been spending more time at your room and your roommate had been there more, too - it was curious, since she never used to spend any time there, and you’d started to get to know her a bit, too.

“Her and Nick broke up,” Kaitlyn says, leaning in and taking a bite of her salad. “But - I don’t know. It’s weird. I mean, all of a sudden we never heard from you.” You don’t respond, staring down at your noodles, and she leans closer towards you, “But then - um.”

You glance up. “What?”

“Well - Hannah Joseph said you’ve been spending a lot of time with Professor Styles,” Dylan reveals, drumming his fingers against the lunch table. Your heart drops at his words and you rest your fork against your plate, the utensil still wrapped in noodles. “And there’ve been a lot of rumours.”

With every single word this entire conversation keeps getting worse, and you take in a gulp of lemonade to try and distract yourself. When you’ve swallowed you look up and try to feign disinterest. “What kind of rumours?” you ask, and you’re not quite sure whether your nonchalant facade towards the entire situation is working.

Dylan leans back in his chair, making eye contact with Kaitlyn again - you hate when they do that, especially right now. You feel like they’re having some sort of conversation you’re not allowed to know, that they’re keeping secrets from you and you’re not supposed to do that. They’re your best friends.

(But you’re keeping the biggest secret of all, and you know you’ll never tell them.)

After a moment, Dylan finally says, “Well, when Hannah was telling us about you being in Professor Styles’ office all the time, Alana Williams told us that she walked in on you guys in his office, like, two weeks ago. And you were really flustered and left, like, the second she came in, and he was really awkward about it the entire time.”

Fuck. You’d forgotten about Alana, walking in on you two immediately after you’d kissed for the first time. You know the answer you’re going to get, but you furrow your brows and ask again, “But what was the rumour, then?”

“That you’re sleeping with him.”

Yeah, you expected that. And it’s not like it’s wrong but hearing the words from Kaitlyn’s lips make you feel embarrassed and all of a sudden you want to run out of the cafeteria screaming, run to your dorm and never talk to anyone again. Because if Hannah and Alana told Kaitlyn and Dylan about you being in his office all the time, who else did they tell?

You breathe out a laugh, hoping to God that you sound amused by the entire thing and not absolutely terrified. There’s no foreseeable way you can salvage this and you can’t think of any sort of excuse for your weeks-long absence from your friends because they already mentioned the truth and you can’t tell them that. They’re your best friends and you should tell them the truth, the way they’ve always told you the truth about everything, but there’s no way you can do that now.

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes peeking left and right as though you’ll catch someone watching you, wondering if you really are sleeping with your professor. As if you’ll yell it out. “That’s stupid,” you tell them, and the way their shoulders ever so slightly drop in relief makes you want to scream. “I’m not sleeping with Professor Styles. I’ve just been busy. Overloaded with schoolwork, right now.”

It’s impossible to tell if they believe it, but you roll your eyes and continue anyway. “But I have missed you guys a lot, and I’m sorry for - um - ignoring you. That was fucked up.”

(In the back of your mind, you’re reminded of the way you’d told Harry you’d return to his apartment after dinner. You hadn’t promised but you’d never failed to go to his apartment when you’d said you would. There is a first time for everything, you suppose, so you give them a bright grin that you aren’t feeling at all and lean in. “Speaking of which, what can we do tonight? I’m all yours, I swear. Won’t even think about my assignments.”

The smiles that spread across their faces like wildfire makes you feel ever so guilty - guilty at the fact that, although you do miss them, your heart aches at the fact that you’re leaving Harry high and dry. Well, he’ll live, you know. Probably spend the night watching television with Marie, and you’ll see him tomorrow.

“I’m going to guess you don’t want to go a party, right?” Kaitlyn asks, a grin playing at her lips. They’ve tried to drag you to parties for so long and you hate them, hate everything about them, but -

Right now a party sounds perfect. Perfect to forget about how, apparently, everyone on campus thinks you’re fucking your professor and perfect to extinguish every one of those rumours. So to Dylan and Kaitlyn’s surprise and, truthfully, your own, you lean back in your chair with a bright grin. “I’d love to go to a party! Where’s it at?”

Within ten minutes of being at said party, you regret it quite a bit.

The dress Kaitlyn had picked out of your closet is two years old and certainly doesn’t fit correctly - you can’t remember buying it, honestly, and every couple of minutes you have to tug the top up to cover your tits. You don’t like the way guys are looking at you and more specifically down your shirt, and they look at Kaitlyn too - but perhaps she’s more used to it from going to frat parties more often, because it doesn’t seem to bother her nearly as much as it pisses you off.

Dylan brought you a drink immediately and you took one sip and hated it. You hate everything about being here but you paste a grin on your face, jumping into pictures with people you barely know, and you’re sure if there was ever someone who looked less like the type to sleep with their professor, it’s you right now.

Which is what you were going for. And, if you wanted to take it all the way, you would let one of these frat guys pin you up against the wall and kiss you until you’re breathless, but you can’t do that to Harry. Even if you’re not official - not truly together - the thought of your lips pressed against any that don’t belong to Harry is disgusting. You sent him a text while you were getting dressed, telling him something came up and i can’t come over:(( sorry and he didn’t seem to mind much, merely replying, Sounds good. See you soon. And now, as you stand in a cloud of marijauna, leaning against the wall and periodically pretending to drink from your cup, you realize you’d much rather be holed up in his apartment than here.

Dylan and Kaitlyn are having fun, though, dancing entirely too close on the dance floor. They did this at parties before they started dating, too, bodies pressed close to each other, and you always wondered why they never just came out and got together. The difference between then and now is that, before, Kaitlyn would always drag you out with them at some point, making sure you’re included.

You don’t reckon that’s going to happen now.

So you push yourself off the wall, clutching your phone and your cup in one hand and using the other to brush Dylan on the back as you push past them - you can hardly hear Kaitlyn calling, “Where’re you going?” as you make your way through a crowd of people. When you’ve finally found your way to the edges of the party you can spot an open door leading out to the deck, and you decide that’s where you want to be, so you push yourself through the door and to the violently bitter cold.

It’s a decision you almost regret but there’s so few people outside - two frat boys, one of them who you recognize from your creative writing class, and a girl sitting, half asleep, on the ground. In some odd way you feel like you fit in with the people out here, so you lean against the house and look at your phone again.

Harry hasn’t texted you again and you’re not sure why you thought he would - there wasn’t much to say on his behalf. In the back of your mind you’re entirely too aware that standing outside by yourself like a loner makes you look even more the part of girl-who-fucked-her-teacher but you can’t force yourself to be in there.

“Hey.”

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by a voice from next to you, and you look up to see the boy from your creative writing class, leaning on the wall beside you. His friend has gone, probably back inside, and the girl sitting on the ground looks completely gone now. It’s just you and him, this guy you’ve hardly spoken to ever, but you turn to face him anyway.

“Hey,” you say, voice coming out in a soft puff of air, white in the nighttime air. “S’Jacob, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jacob nods, blonde hair flopping in front of his eyes, and it reminds you, in some sort of way, of the uncontrollable nature of Harry’s hair. “Aren’t you in my writing class or something?”

You nod, brushing your hair out of your face and glancing down at the cup in your hand. It’s still as full as when you got it, even with all the pretend sips you’d been taking. “Yeah, I am.”

Jacob’s head falls back against the house and says, “Knew I recognized a pretty face like yours.” You exhale, rolling your eyes, and he furrows his eyebrows. “What? M’serious. I’ve always thought you were quite cute.”

“Thanks, I suppose.” You look up at him with an amused smile. “You’re - um. You’re cute too,” which isn’t exactly a lie. He’s not horrible but perhaps being with Harry has skewed your perception of all guys in your year - they’ll never be as lovely as him.

“Well, thank you,” Jacob replies, and you’re not sure what to say now - just lift your drink to your mouth and pretend to take a drink of it. It seems like in the blink of an eye he’s moved closer to you - standing half beside you and half in front, and you pull your cup closer to your body. He’s barely half a foot away from you and his face is even closer, and he smells like cheap beer and mint gum.

You drop your head back against the wall, raising your eyebrows. “What’re you doing?” you ask, confusion and yet complete understanding dripping from your words.

Jacob shrugs, leaning in until his lips are entirely too close to your ear and you can feel his breath, warm against your skin and you can smell him even stronger, now. “Just relax, alright? S’okay.”

You can’t relax though, and all you can think about is how different and terrible this is compared to how amazing Harry makes you feel, and you shake your head vehemently. “Jacob, I’m sorry, alright? You’re really nice and all, but -”

“D’you have a boyfriend?” Jacob asks, then, pulling himself away from you.

“Not really,” you tell him, which is the truth. You and Harry aren’t - technically dating but you still couldn’t hook up with this frat boy if you tried. You’re as good as dating him and the thought of doing it to him makes you sick to your stomach. “But I’m just not interested.”

There’s a pause, then. Jacob takes a step back, looking at you with his brows furrowed and his face looking oddly flushed. There are goosebumps covering your skin and you suddenly want to go back inside but then he’s talking again - “I think I know what this is about.”

You must wear the confusion you’re feeling, because he continues. “Can you be honest with me? Like, really honest.”

You hadn’t thought he was too drunk before but he certainly is starting to seem just a bit drunker than you’d anticipated. You furrow your eyebrows, lips upturning. “Sure.”

Then Jacob takes another step forward so you’re just as close as you’d been before and leans in again, dropping his voice so low you can hardly hear it. “Is it true you’re boning Professor Styles?”

The words take a moment to sink in. Is it true … Professor Styles? And when they’re finally there, embedded inside of your brain, you exhale a shaky laugh. It’s all you can bring yourself to do, resting your head back against the house. “Are you serious?”

You look at him again and he nods, shrugging slightly.

“I’m not - I’m not boning Professor Styles.” The lie tastes bitter on your tongue but you force it to sound normal anyway. “And I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Jacob rolls his eyes until you can merely see a white stripe in them. You can feel yourself getting - angrier? Sadder? More annoyed? - by the moment. And you hate that some dumb frat boy can make you feel so horrible but he’s doing it now, even if he probably doesn’t realize it. He steps back again, running a hand through his floppy hair. “Alright, alright. So you’re not fucking your professor and you don’t have a boyfriend. What, exactly, is holding you back, then?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling heat soar to your cheeks even in the bitter chill of the night. “Can you give it a fucking rest, Jacob?”

He whistles and you’re pushing yourself off the wall, already beginning to slide open the door to go back inside when Jacob begins, “Don’t be such a bitch about it -”

There’s only a brief second of hesitation on your part - turning around and using the hand that isn’t clutching your cup and your phone you press it to his chest and push as hard as you can. The force of it sends your phone flying out of your hand and hurtling down to the deck and you watch it fall down with a moment of brief regret - you can hear the glass shattering and you know it’ll be a bitch to repair. And you drink splashes up, spilling onto your chest and your dress and it smells repulsive. But Jacob (who you suspect is drunker than you originally thought) stumbles away from you and it makes both things worth it.

You can feel tears beginning to sting your eyes as Jacob straightens up, and before he can say anything else you bend down, picking your phone off of the deck and racing back into the house. You slide the door shut behind you and you can feel it open only a second later but you’ve already gone, pushing your way through the crowd, looking for both the way out and someone with a phone that doesn’t have a screen smashed to bits.

Kaitlyn and Dylan are pressed against the wall and you hate to interrupt the way they’re kissing desperately, hands all over each other, but you reach out and tap her shoulder anyway. Because, truthfully, you don’t actually care that much.

You shout above the music that you need to borrow her phone and she doesn’t hesitate to fish it out of her bra, handing it over to you with an incredibly wide grin - her telltale drunk grin - and you grab it in your hand, your broken phone in your other, and open up the phone app.

You have his number memorized from spending so long studying it once he’d given it to you that it’s easy to type it into the keypad - when the line is ringing you realize it’s entirely too loud in the thick of the party so you turn and walk out the front door and onto the front steps, leaning against the railing.

The line clicks and you’ve never been so grateful for such a small noise. “Hello?” the voice on the other end says, raspy like it always is when he’s just woken up (and you hate to think that you’ve woken him from a nap) and you could cry at the sound of it.

“Harry.” you swallow, eyes darting back and forth to see if there’s anyone near you - but everyone seems to be inside, enjoying the party, and you just can’t. “Harry, hi.”

“Hey, baby,” he says, and his voice seems to brighten at the sound of yours. “What’s going on? Whose phone is this?”

“Um -” you bring your thumb up to your mouth, nibbling on your nail before dropping your hand back down to your thigh. “It’s a long story. Can you pick me up? I’m sorry, I just - um. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a pain. You don’t have to if you’re too tired because you sound like you just woke up but I really want to be with you right now.”

You look - standing outside of a party, fighting back tears that are burning in your eyes calling your professor, of all people - the exact type of girl who would fuck her professor, but oddly enough, you don’t really think you care anymore. All you want to do is to feel Harry’s arms wrapped around you, making you feel better, and you never should have come to this stupid party in the first place. It was a mistake.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks, and you can picture him getting out of bed already, tugging on a pair of joggers - the pink ones he wears all the time - and sliding on his sneakers. “Uh - where are you?”

That you’re not quite sure of. You glance around but you can’t make much out in the dark - there’s a sign at the end of the street and you squint to try and make it out. “Barry, I think. Avenue? I’m not sure. I think it says Barry, though.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “I know where you are, and I’m gonna be there in five minutes, alright? Just stay where you are.”

You breathe out a small okay, and then the line clicks and he’s gone, and you pull the phone away to stare at it for just a moment. Then you go and delete the call from Kaitlyn’s history - wouldn’t want her calling it on accident - and dart back inside. She’s still wrapped around Dylan but you give it to her anyway, watching her stuff the device back into her bra. And you take a moment to bid your friends goodbye - wrapping them in a hug even if you know they’d rather be making out with each other than hugging you - and you head back out the door, sitting down on the front steps and letting the door slam behind you.

Your phone sits beside you in all its broken glory. Your mind is reeling and you can’t think straight - all you want is to be with Harry, forget about the assholes who think (or know) that you’re sleeping with him. Because - well, you are, you suppose. But there’s so much more, stuff they’ll never know, stuff they can’t know.

Just as your teeth start chattering in the cold you can see a familiar car pull up in front of the house. You can see his figure in the drivers seat, a hood pulled up tight over his hair, and you jump up, grabbing your phone and bounding towards the car. You’ve never been so happy to see him in your life - opening the door and ducking into the passenger’s seat, dropping your shattered phone on the center console between you. The warmth of his car is nearly suffocating but you love it, prefer it so much over the cold that’s been so prevalent for so long.

“Hey,” Harry says, voice soft, as if he can tell you’ve had a shitty day. (Which he probably can, truthfully.) “What happened to your phone?”

“I dropped it,” you tell him, taking another glance down at the phone you’ve had for four years that could survive falls from your pockets, bed and accidentally getting stepped on by Dylan but couldn’t make it through a simple fall onto the deck of a frat house. Serves you right for going to the dumb party anyway. “Can I go to your apartment? Just really don’t want to be alone. I had - a really shitty day.”

He nods and then you’re gone, taking off down the street. “D’you want to tell me about it, then?”

You sigh, leaning back against the headrest. You take a moment to listen to the music, playing so silently you can hardly hear - but it’s Just The Way You Are, by Billy Joel, and it’s from your playlist. “Just - um. A lot of people, apparently, think we’re sleeping together and then I was talking to this - this guy named Jacob and he was being a dick about it because I wouldn’t fuck him and then - then I pushed him and I dropped my phone and it broke.” Your voice cracks and you can feel the tears that had been residing behind your eyes finally beginning to spill over, and you bring your wrist up to wipe the tear that had begun to streak down your cheek. “M’sorry. Seems silly, now.”

“It’s not silly.” Harry’s voice is firm and you look over at him, sniffling slightly. When you’ve stopped at a red light he turns towards you, bringing his thumb up to wipe away another tear that had trickled down to your nose. “I’m sorry. People can be dicks sometimes.”

You inhale shakily. “Yeah.” For a split second there’s silence and then you say, “I don’t even know why I went to a stupid party. I hate them and I hated this one too but -” you stop to think. “I wanted people to think I wasn’t the type of person to fuck my professor. Which is silly, I guess, because I am the type of person to fuck my professor.”

“Can you look at me?” he asks, and you do, making eye contact with him briefly before he looks back at the road. “S’all gonna be alright, you know that? Nobody is gonna know. No one’s gonna find out - they’re all just guessing now.”

“I feel like they know.” you sniffle again, blinking away more tears that had come to the surface of your eyes. “And I know they can’t but I feel like they do.”

Harry pulls into the parking lot behind his building, then, and you unbuckle your seatbelt with shaking hands and grab your phone from the center console, pushing yourself out of the car and into the air again. The two of you walk in silence to the doors and then he presses the button of the elevator to go up and looks at you again.

“Baby,” Harry says, and you nod slowly. “What do you want to do?”

You pause. “What do I want to do?”

Then he grabs your hand as the elevator opens and you step in together, pressing the button for the third floor. “I don’t want you to stress about getting caught,” he responds, voice dropping to hardly above a whisper. “We’re going to be okay, I promise. As long as we keep things off campus we’re fine.”

You nod, glancing down at your scuffed heels with a sniff. “I know.”

The elevator dings again and you step out of it, your hand still in his as he walks down the hall to his apartment. While he digs in his pocket for his key, you tell him, “If you’re asking me whether I want to stop this, the answer is no.”

Harry glances up at you, key in the door, with a raised eyebrow.

You continue, shaking your head. “I like you a lot, Harry. A lot. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before in my life and I don’t want stupid fucking frat boys to take you away from me.” The two of you step into his apartment and he flicks on the lights, leaning against the door as you continue. “Don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if the most amazing man in the entire world slipped between my fingers because I was afraid.”

You take a step towards him, and then he wraps his arms around you and it’s what you’d needed all bloody day, just to feel his hug. You burrow your head into his chest and he presses his lips to the top of your hair, his voice coming out muffled by your hair when he speaks again. “I’m afraid too, baby. But I like you a lot too. More than anyone I’ve ever known.” Then he grabs your cheeks, pulling your head away from his so he can stare you right in the eyes - you swear his are mesmerizing. “I think I love you, actually.”

Love.

He loves you.

The thought bounces around your brain and it’s all you can think of - Professor Styles, telling you he loves you in his apartment, his warm hands pressed to your cheeks. And you hadn’t been sure, until now, whether you did love him. You’d never exactly felt that sort of love for anyone before because none of your relationships had ever lasted too long. But hearing him and seeing him now is making your brain churn out a thousand thoughts per minute and the most apparent one is that you love him too.

So much.

So you exhale, a smile quirking your lips upwards, as you reach up to press your hands to his face, too. You can see him fighting back the urge to grin and you could cry again but you swallow the urge and breathe out, “I love you, too.”

And you lean up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his lips and barely hearing the way he mutters back, “I love you so much,” because you couldn’t pull your lips from his if you tried. His hands drop to your back, pressing against the small of it as he leads you farther into his apartment. Your lips never detach and it’s difficult not to trip over your own feet but eventually you’re being pushed onto a distinctly soft surface, and one glance to your right shows you that it’s not his bed but the couch in his living room.

“Sorry, Marie,” Harry says, and you push yourself onto your elbows as you watch Harry pick up Marie from her spot on top of the couch and deposit her to the floor. “Don’t want you to see this. Just shoo for a little while.”

You roll your eyes as Harry looks down at you, one leg propped on the couch and the other firm on the ground. “You’re ridiculous, professor,” you tell him, and he throws an arm over the back of the couch, lowering his body onto yours until you can push your head up and mesh your lips with his. His hand goes beneath your head as he lowers you back down onto the couch. “But I still love you.”

When Harry pulls away his cheeks are a light shade of pink and you feel quite honored to be the person to make him blush - your professor, so professional in front of the classroom and blushing like a schoolgirl above you. You bring your hand up to his hair, twisting your fingers in his curls to bring his head back down but he doesn’t go for your lips, instead lowering his mouth to your throat, pressing hickeys to the column of your neck.

“You smell like beer, y’know that?” Harry tells you, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he trails kisses down to your collarbone. His hand works at tugging the top of your dress down, reaching in to pull your tits out where they’re already practically spilling out of it.

“Spilled a bit on myself at the party,” you breathe as he lowers his mouth onto your nipple, his hand massaging your other breast. “Wasn’t good beer, though. Could tell it was cheap. I couldn’t drink more than a sip - fuck.”

Harry pulls back from your nipple and blows on it gently, the sensation sending shivers up your spine and you moan softly. Your hips buck up into his and he groans against your chest. “God, baby. I love your tits, did you know that? Could play with them all day.” As if to prove a point he leans down again, dragging his teeth against your nipple and reveling in the way you whine.

“I’d be fine with that,” you inform him, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence as his hand trails down your body to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up over the tops of your thighs. Then his fingers brush over the damp spot in your panties, pressing against your clit through the thin fabric. “Oh, god -”

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asks, voice soft and he already knows the answer, of course, but you drop your head back against the couch with a nod anyway. “Wanna hear your words.”

“Feels so good, p - professor,” you moan, feeling his digits finally dip beneath the hem of your panties, running over your folds without the lace barrier. “Please, Harry, need more …”

You’ve learned, by now, his affinity for hearing you tell him exactly what you want. So before you can hear his smug response of what do you need you swallow and tell him, “Want you to eat me out. Please, professor.”

He drops his head against your chest, moaning lowly, and you can feel his dick growing harder against your thigh. “Fuck. Okay.” He licks a line from your chest up to your collarbone and you wonder if he can taste the gross beer still tainting your skin but - if he does - he doesn’t show it. Acts like he’d just enjoyed the best feast of his life as he glances back up at you, eyes dark. His fingers hook in your panties, dragging them down your legs and dropping them, soaked in your arousal, onto the floor. “Gonna take you to my room, yeah?”

You nod eagerly as he stands above you, and you swing your legs over the edge of the couch, pushing yourself up, and you let Harry intertwine your fingers, leading you across his apartment to the door of his bedroom. When he’s shut the door (shooing Marie away again, who’d followed you in an attempt to enter his room) he tugs his hoodie over his head - his phone flies out of the pocket and lands on the carpet, his hoodie heading towards another corner. Then Harry collapses into the middle of his bed, lying on his back, glancing at you expectantly. His joggers slide ever so slightly down his hips and you watch their descent before flickering your eyes back to him.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Not gonna eat me out then, professor?”

Harry shakes his head. “Never sat on anyone’s face before, I reckon?”

No. Of course you haven’t. Your mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ and you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. He motions you to come over to him and you take a moment to kick off your heels, leaving them in a pile by the door before making your way over to the bed, standing beside him.

“I think you’ll like it,” Harry tells you, and wraps his fingers around your wrist in a loose hold, and you take the cue to mount the bed, kneeling beside him, and his fingers drum against your thigh. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. If you don’t, I’ll just do it the old fashioned way. No harm done.”

You nod, swallowing. Any question you have dies on your tongue because you trust him, you know, and you know he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.

What’s the harm in trying?

“Alright, then.” He reaches behind him, stuffing a pillow beneath his head. His hand on your wrist drops to your hand, pressing your palms together, and you give him a small smile before adjusting yourself so your thighs are on either side of his head - it’s about as awkward as you’d anticipated, your dress still half covering your arse, and Harry reaches up to pull it up, letting it rest around your hips. His fingertips trail down your thighs - a silent don’t worry and appreciate it. Slowly you lower yourself down onto his mouth, and when you’ve completely settled - your hands resting on his bare abdomen as you lean forward slightly.

You expect to feel his tongue on you immediately but then he pauses, and when he talks you can feel his mouth moving against your cunt. “Siri! Shuffle y/n songs on Spotify!”

You almost roll your eyes when his phone, still on the floor from where it had landed earlier, begins playing Good Vibrations - of course, he can’t do anything without music - but before you can give some sort of snarky remark his tongue is darting up to your clit, flicking the bud gently, and you cry out almost louder than the music.

“Oh, shit, Harry!” you groan, fingertips digging into his stomach as his hands go to your bum, kneading the globes of your ass as his mouth practically attacks your pussy. It’s so much more intense than how it is usually - the Beach Boys in the background, your hips rocking slowly against his face, his soft groans against your core sending vibrations through your body.

Good vibrations, of course.

“Feels so fucking good,” you breathe, dragging your hands further down his stomach. His joggers - the pink ones - are tied loosely and your fingers wrap around the ties, tugging slightly as Harry pushes his tongue inside of you. You can see his dick - thick and looking painfully hard, even through the fabric. Your instinct is to grab his hair but it’s harder in this position so you tug, again, at the tie of his sweatpants until it comes completely undone.

He pauses, momentarily, perhaps wondering what you’re doing - and you don’t even quite know - but soon he resumes his relentless assault on your clit, lips wrapping around the nub and sucking. You cry out, your palm pressed to his stomach and trailing down to the hem of his sweatpants, and when your hand wraps firmly around Harry’s cock he practically yelps into your cunt.

“Jesus, fuck,” you can hear him, muttering against your heat as you pull his sweatpants down further until you can see his cock. Sure enough, he’s hard and heavy in your hand as you shimmy your body ever so slightly forward, causing him to hook his arms around your thighs to keep you close to his face. You crane your neck forward, pumping your hand up and down his cock as you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the tip of his dick, and he moans. It mixes oddly well with the tail end of Good Vibrations as it switches to Sugar Sugar.

The sound rolls through your body and you whimper, lowering your head onto his cock until his length is nearly completely down your throat - you’ve gotten better at fitting him in completely, and you breathe through your nose, counting 1 … 2 … 3 until you hit 10, and then you pull your mouth off of him.

Harry’s nose nudges your clit and your walls tighten around his tongue as he thrusts it in and out of your cunt - you’re so close and you can tell, and you lick up the vein on his cock. He grunts softly, fingernails digging into your ass, and when his tongue flicks over your clit again you cry out, throwing your head back and pumping his cock with your hand.

Your orgasm hits you like a wave and Harry laps up every drop that he can, smoothing his hands over your bum and thighs as you roll your hips against his mouth, riding yourself through his orgasm as you release your grasp on his cock, digging your nails into his stomach as you moan out.

When every reverberation of your orgasm still pulsing through you, you collapse onto his body - then you roll off of him, still feeling the throbbing in your clit as Harry pushes himself onto his elbows, glancing down at you.

“How was that?” he asks, sitting up fully, trailing his fingers up your arm. “First time facesitting. And 69ing, too - it’s a season of firsts.”

You grin lazily at him. “S’that a line from December, 1963?”

He nods, a smile painting his face.

“It was amazing. Of course. It’s always amazing - God, I love you so much,” you tell him, reaching your hand up to rest against his face, and he presses a soft kiss against your wrist. “But…”

“What?”

“I really want you to fuck me.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, and you feel your cheeks burn. His hand tugs at the end of your dress, bunched around your hips. “I really want to fuck you, too.” You sit up, raising your arms so he can pull your dress over your head - you’re left in merely your bra and you reach behind yourself, undoing the clasp and tossing it off the bed. When you’ve lied back down on the bed he takes a minute to stare down at you, and you feel a sudden instinct to cover yourself up - but then he merely says, “You’re so beautiful. I love you -” and he leans down to kiss you, his hands working at pulling his joggers down his legs - “so damn much.”

He takes a moment, dropping his pants to his ankles, to lower his head to your cunt again - tongue lapping briefly at your clit, smirking at the way you jump. Then he pulls his head back and you watch him, propped on your elbows, as he spits, and it lands on your clit and makes you squeal, your stomach flipping. God, you didn’t think you’d love that so much but you want him to do it again and again - something about it is so fucking hot. But he just brings his fingers to your folds, spreading his spit through your already slick pussy, flashing you another smug smirk before leaning back over you.

You loop your arms around his neck, feeling the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. You’re so wet you’re practically dripping and there’s positively no barrier as he sheathes himself inside of you - you toss your head back with a moan. The first push inside of you is always the best and you take a moment to savor it as Harry grips your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist. And when he pulls out and thrusts back in he brushes that perfect spot inside of you, and you cry out.

Your heel presses into his arse, pushing his body further into yours. Your chests press together, his arm braced over your head as he groans lowly, eyes squeezed shut, and you bring your hand up to his face like he’s done so many times - “Look at me, profess - fuck!”

He does look at you, pupils wide and making his normally green eyes appear just about completely black. Harry’s hand presses to your clit, rubbing fast hard circles as his cock brushes against your g-spot with every thrust inside of you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his head into your shoulder, hips rocking into his. You’re already embarrassingly close and with just the right brush against your clit you know you could be cumming already to the sound of I’m a Believer by the Monkees, and it would be heaven.

Like it always is.

Harry’s still muttering into your neck, teeth brushing against your skin as he sends wet, open mouthed kisses across your throat - “So tight, squeezing me so good. God, Iloveyousomuch -”

Your nails drag against his back, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, his fingers still working at your clit. You wrap your leg tighter around his waist, burying your head back into the covers with a loud cry and then you’re cumming, walls fluttering around him as his thrusts grew even more unrelentless. You’re not sure you’ve ever cum so fast in your life but you were already so close before you even started and he pulls his head up, slamming your lips together as you ride out your second orgasm with him.

“Think you - fuck - got one more in there for me?” His voice is a hiss through gritted teeth as he straightens up, fucking you harder than ever before on his knees, fingers still plucking at your clit. Your leg drops from around his waist and he grabs your calf, stretching your leg onto his shoulder, and the burn makes everything feel that much better. “Gonna cum again for your professor? I think you can.”

Your hand goes down to his wrist, fingers wrapping around him - it’s too much too fast you’ve just cum you can’t - but you know you can and he does too. And you can tell he’s close - the way he’s losing rhythm, his hips losing the steady pace he’d developed. You drop your hand to your chest, tweaking your nipple between your fingers.

“Fuck, Harry - m’gonna cum - God -” you can’t manage to get out any full sentences, mere fragments, your eyes never leaving Harry’s as you clench around you again. Your third orgasm is the most intense of all, feeling his fingers pinch your clit, his thrusts slowing so they hit every sweet spot inside of you, and you couldn’t have held back if you tried.

His neighbors must think you’re being murdered with the way you scream - the duvet firm in your grasp, your eyes rolling back into your head as you practically spasm beneath him. Harry’s movements slow to a jerky, staccato pace - you can feel him, cumming inside of you, and when you look at him his face is bright red, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a soft o.

“Fuck, fuck -” he breathes, hand on your clit dropping to the mattress, and your leg slides off of his shoulder and back onto the bed. You’re fucking exhausted as he pulls out, dropping onto the bed beside you, but not too tired to curl yourself into his arms, your face burning hot and your breathing laboured.

There’s a moment where nothing needs to be said. There’s nothing that you could say that could make this moment any better than it is so you hold your tongue, intent on merely falling asleep with him until he mumbles, “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

He pauses, and you open your eyes, turning your head to glance at him. His eyes are shut as well and you could almost fool yourself into thinking he’d never spoken at all until he finally says, “I love you so much.” You don’t have time to say it back before he’s continuing - “And I think you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met in my life.”

You can feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes - whether it’s the post-orgasm haze and exhaustion overtaking you or just pure love for the man beside you, you’re not sure. “Harry -”

“And, um.” His eyes are still shut and his brows are slightly furrowed as he speaks. “I know we’re kind of already dating but I want to make it official. So … would you like to be my girlfriend?” And then his eyes open, his head turning to look at you, to watch the smile that turns your lips upward.

You tug your bottom lip between your bottom teeth to try and suppress your grin but it doesn’t work - you could never stop yourself from feeling so fucking happy. And you bring your hand to his cheek, brushing a sweaty curl off his face, before breathing, “Of course.”

He leans in, then, kissing you sweetly and - for just a moment - you can forget about everything other than him. Forget about class on Monday, about the people who think you’re sleeping with him. And they’re right, for some of it - but not all. They’ll never really know what you have.

For a moment, all that exists is you and him, wrapped up in each other, bodies curled together and lips pressed gently. And even when the moment passes, and you bury your head into his shoulder, you can’t help but wait for the next to come.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #professor harry styles #definitely dont like this as much as the first part !!! sorry fellas #but i hope you all enjoy #also tried to include some pussy spitting..... for u anon #plot was a lot harder to come up with but i hope it flows and that u like it ok ok goodbye #enjoy #prof!harry

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perzawa · 4 years

Text

→ happy birthday!

jumin han x fem! reader

desc: after a wonderful birthday spent with your family, you think that was all the night had to offer. that is, until jumin gives you just one more surprise.

genre: smut

warnings: degradation, pet names, squirting, very very small mention of past trauma

word count: 2.8K

“now are you sure i can’t drive you both home? i’d love to say goodnight to my daughter in law that way,” the chairman said, kissing your hand. you didn’t oppose him dropping you guys off at home, but jumin consistently pleaded that he’d call a cab for the both of you and that was it. usually, when jumin had his mind set on something - no one could change it. so why object?

both you, and jumin, stood outside - patiently watching multiple cars pass by on the road. subconsciously, you rubbed the side of your arm, still in awe from the afternoon you spent with your family. it was your birthday, after all, so everyone decided to surprise you by taking you out. jumin originally planned to take you out alone and spend time with you himself, but mr. chairman objected, deciding everyone assumed it would be more respectful to wish you a happy birthday to your face.

who were you to say no?

jumin must’ve cared a lot, because he could really care less about being anywhere with his father and his new girlfriend of the year. or, for the week, he would say when he complained to you. she seemed extremely sweet, though, and was equally just as pretty. her hair was a radiant shade of blonde and her body was curved, dress exposing every corner of her figure. you could see why he’d be attracted to her in the first place. not only that, but she spoke with such elegance. words flowing smoothly anytime she opened her mouth to take a sip of her red wine. maybe you were a bit naïve, but you’d trust her with your life.

jumin didn’t share the same thought process, sneering at her whenever she so much as asked if he wanted the salt and pepper shakers to be passed to him through the air or slid on the table. you couldn’t blame him, especially with the history he bore with his father and his unique taste in women. now, Jumin would never call you an idiot to your face, but when you didn’t have a problem with the women his father courted that particular time, he’d make a few comments under his breath about how you needed a lesson in not being a fool to obvious tricks.

what could you say? seeing the best in people was your forte - for better or worse. that is how your relationship with jumin evolved, isn’t it?

“what’s got you so lost in thought?” he inquired, peeking over at you after a moment of checking his watch. the same one you got him last christmas.it made your heart swell to see him still wearing it.

“oh, nothing,” you smiled back at him, rocking on your heels. “just really grateful you guys took me out. thanks, baby. i could use this.”

he scrunched his eyebrows. “of course. it's your birthday.”

“i know, but still.” you stared at the sidewalk with a small grin plastered on your features. you never actually celebrated your birthday. growing up, your parents were too busy to even remember most days, so you’d spend that special day cooped up in your room with your sister eating whatever you could find in the refrigerator until they arrived at home, crashing in bed as soon as they stepped foot in the house. the cycle always continued, for both you and your sister. jumin knew this. it was the first thing you told him when he tried to have fun with you on your last birthday.

“you’re sweet.” he muttered, feigning a nonchalant attitude - when really, he was ecstatic to spend the day with the love of his life.

“the day isn’t over yet,” he spotted the car pulling up in front of you both and held his hand out for you to take, taking your hand gently. “there’s still one thing i wanted to give you before your day is over. okay?”

heat rose to your face, inciting you to smile wider than before. “a surprise? aw, jumin. you’re so sweet.” you lightly tapped his shoulder to showcase your gratitude, demeanor changing. the man only nodded and opened the door for you, both of you walking in together. it didn’t take long before you arrived home, jumin paying the cab before he took your hand once you both left the vehicle. he reached for his keys, slowly unlocking the door. thin arms pushed the large door open, jumin now smiling over at you once he witnessed your calm demeanor shift into a happier one. one that was more excited and a bit confused.

you walked in slowly, your eyes watching the red lights and roses leading up the staircase. sure, it was a little cliché, but if jumin did this for you, it was special.

“how? h-how did you have time?” you choked on your words, expression lighting up as you viewed the lights - eyes gazing over every crevice covered.

“i paid jaehee,” he stated plainly, observing you for any other movements or hidden emotions.

you blinked at him. you’d really have to take her on a spa trip after this to apologize. hell, if you knew it was his sadly overworked assistant, you’d just prefer to decorate the house yourself.

“go on,” he spoke, motioning up the stairs. with patient breaths, your feet slowly stepped up each stair, different flowers on each shiny step. daisies, roses, chrysanthemums. they were so pretty - your heart swale in awe.

“baby…” you whined, reaching the first room, your bedroom. your shaking hands twisted the handle on the door and pushed it open. now, there were candles here. they illuminated the large room, floor full of roses. heavy hands found themselves clutched over your heart. your grin widened, imagining all of the effort put into this. into pleasing you.

you bit your bottom lip, strutting closer to the large bed you shared with your lover. there, two different toys had been placed on the sheets. you blinked at them and then blinked at Jumin, turning to face the toys again. “i-,” you trailed off, a clear understanding of what the surprise was now. you gulped, face burning in embarrassment now - eyes wider than ever.

the tall man walked closer to you, stopping once his body was pressed against your back. he held onto your waist gently, his fingers tickling your soft skin in the dress you wore.

“you’ve been working so hard, kitten. every single day,” he whispered in your ear. observing your shy, but welcoming reaction, he continued. “let daddy relax you.”

you breathed out. “o-okay,” you whispered back. your body twitched at his lustful words, eyes focusing on the vibrator and purple dildo that stayed still on the sheets again. jumin held on tighter to your hips, pressing soft kisses to the sides and the back of your neck, whispering a compliment with each kiss.

“you’re so pretty,” he whispered, kissing your earlobe.

“and you’re all mine.” his quiet voice tickled the hairs on your skin, a quiet chuckle rumbling from his mouth. he swiped his tongue along your warm neck.

“i want you so much. every day, i promise...”the man with raven hair admitted, voice low as he assaulted your neck, kissing the sides while he left purple bruises to blossom along your skin. a small moan fell from your lips and you leaned your head to the side - allowing him access.

“so glad to have you. i’m so happy this is the fourth birthday i’ve spent with my baby.”

you could feel a rush of blood speed between your legs, pussy gushing with arousal. you rubbed your legs together to abstain some type of friction on your clit, whining when his hands freed themselves from your waist.

“i wanna see something. do you trust me to make you feel good, y/n?” even after four years together, he always made sure you were comfortable with everything taking place and you couldn’t help but respect that. this wasn’t your first time with him, but every time was always so perfect and comfortable. words couldn’t describe the type of man he was to you. you nodded eagerly, crawling on the bed as the mattress croaked.

“wanna watch you play with yourself. would you like that, too?” his sultry tone caused your breathing to hitch, “you want that? you wanna see me stroke myself to you playing with that pussy of yours?” you caught a chill from the vulgarity of his word choice, nodding again. your body burned with lust, face just as hot as the rest of you. you grabbed both toys and positioned yourself on your back. biting your lip, you spread your legs and slid your panties down, kicking them to the floor. your dress was pulled up, exposing the heat between your legs, slick trailing down your thighs.

“you get this wet from me barely touching you? god…”

his words were like serums full of pleasure, causing you to gush more slick from your cavity. you’d never used a toy a day in your life, but it seemed easy. even then, you were an avid porn consumer. your diligent fingers pressed the plus sign and clicked it until the vibrations were as high as you needed them to be. jumin’s breath died in his throat as he viewed your sinful act intensely. you pushed the head of the vibrator to your aching clit, screaming from the pleasurable shock. jumin, palm pressed to his clothed cock, chuckled darkly - as he watched your innocent face contort into pure debauchery. the touch sent electricity into your body, empty hole gaping over nothing. you were quick, prodding the artificial cock against your opening to gather enough slick before pushing it in, the stretch sending you into another shock. your body arched off of the bed, eyes rolled back into your socket as you moved the vibrator around your sensitive nub, twitching with each roll of plastic on your body. after finding a good pace to fuck yourself at, you bit your lip and looked down at jumin.

the man was almost moaning himself, palming his hardening cock, eyes lidded and pooling with lust while he watched you stuff your wet channel, wishing it were him. the overwhelming drag of the plastic against your milky walls caused your eyes to tear up, small, salty tears falling as you cried out, toes curling and uncurling the sheets beneath you. you could feel an overwhelming shock build in your stomach as you forced yourself to stare into the dark eyes of your lover - husband watching you fuck yourself. thrust after thrust, your pussy almost reached its peak - body still lustful and needy. the tears on your cheeks began to dry as the bud in your stomach snapped, walls spasming while you came over the plastic.

jumin groaned, throwing his head back after painfully watching you have your way with your own body. he bit his lip and crawled on the bed, snatching his tie and hauling it across the room - jacket and shirt following after. your breath had died down now, body still wildly twitching, vibrator still assaulting your overused nerves. you whine, drool slipping from the corners of your mouth, stomach bubbling with pleasure again just to witness jumin watching you with such intensity. you could cum again and again just watching him watch you.

he snatched the vibrator from your grasp, turning the toy off as he threw it on the ground. the dildo followed.

“you’re so good, kitten. so, so good. you want daddy’s cock this time? are you ready - you okay with that?”

still buzzed out, the most you could do was moan and nod eagerly, fingers running through your slit to gather slick on your digits, bringing them up to your husbands lips. wet eyelashes blinked up at him, tears drying a bit while newer ones still damped your cheeks. he took them into his mouth, sucking your fingers clean. with his tongue swirling over the thick liquid, jumin groaned, palming at himself from your taste alone.

“please, jumin. hurry, i’m gonna get so wet again, please. please, please, please, i want you so much.” the words fell so easily from your lips with little to no hesitation. in such a state of babbling, you could care less about what you were saying - as long as your husband played into your blissed-out fantasy.

wasting no time, he unbuckled his black pants - slim fingers wrapping around his thick cock. you backed into the bed frame, legs still spread wide, eyes glued to jumin’s cock. he groaned, rubbing his cock up and down your pussy to gather enough lube, wetting his dick enough to painlessly slip in. you gaped over nothing, fingers traveling down to rub your sensitive bud. jumin scooted himself closer to you, lifting your ass up in order to line himself up with your wet pussy, cock slipping in slightly. his head filled you, body heaving while you threw your arms around him. he pulled you into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist as he replaced your spot against the bed frame. “fuck…”

you could cum on the spot just from feeling him inside of you. just from feeling the head of his cock hit against the hilt of your pussy, walls swallowing his entire cock in an attempt to draw the man in deeper. the shocks of your stretched walls made you convulse, body shaking in pleasure and agony.

“shit, you feel so good. so right. always,” he spoke in fragments, huffing out his breaths with each word he attempted to speak. you buried your nose into his neck, his hips thrusting upward, cock continuing its assault inside of your pussy. loud cries of antagonizing pleasure rang through the home, your nose now buried into his shoulder, grinding yourself on his lap. jumin gripped your ass, thick length working inside of you while your slick dripped to the shaft of his dick.

“jumin - god, so good. you feel so good,” you grunted, slipping your arm between you both to snake a finger down to your sensitive clit, pussy spamming around his hard length. jumin moaned, both of your pants and gasps of neediness bubbling in the air, loud enough for you both to hear each other but not high enough to receive a noise complaint.

“kitten… fuck, your pussy’s - fuck, a mess. did I get you this wet?” he asked through strained moans and quiet grunts.

embarrassed, your mouth instinctively stayed shut, simply rocking your heavy botty along his - meeting each quick thrust.

“answer, good girl. go ahead. shit - know you’re embarrassed,” he pressed his moist lips to your neck, gripping your hair with one hand. you released a small moan, edging him to go on. he gripped the strands, “i know you want this. tell me who got you this way, tell me how much of a slut you are for me.”

“jumin - please, you. you, you, you, you, you. god, fuck - i’m so fucking wet for you. feels so good inside me, gonna cum.”

he thrust his cock into you at a faster place, the tip of his cock hitting against your g-spot. more tears rushed down your eyes and he wiped them away, whispering praises in your ear while he fucked his load into you, the branch in both of your stomachs snapping. for the first time, you’d both cum at the same time.

jumin grunted, his hips stuttering inside of you, making sure no cum would escape.

“gonna push this as deep as i can. make you a mommy.” you moaned at the implications that he would impregnate you, the thought causing your body to begin shaking, his quick-moving cock sparking a different feeling, an overwhelming one. you could feel the heat rush to your pussy, your body sore - but you kept fucking yourself onto him. couldn’t stop even if you tried. a warm feeling bubbled in your stomach, nails raking his pale back, marking him as yours and no one else’s. you clenched your toes, a clear liquid gushing from your pussy and onto the bed, wetting his chest in the process. You instantly fell backwards, head hitting the sheets on the bed with a loud screech.

your pussy twitched, his cock now slowly removing itself from your cavity while you laid exposed on the bed, breathing erratic and sped up.

“squirting all over me. what a bad girl.” sweat rained down your forehead, as well as jumin’s, body paralyzed from the excessive amounts of pleasure rushing through you.

jumin pulled you off of him and was now on his knees, cock soaked in your juices. the over sensitivity made him groan before he tucked himself in. the man with raven hair leaned down into your ear, kissing your earlobes before whispering.

“happy birthday, slut.”

#jumin han #happy birthday jumin #jumin x you #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #jumin x y/n #jumin smut #jumin han smut #mystic messenger #mystic messenger x mc #mysme #mysme jumin #smut #mystic messenger smut #otome game #otome fandom

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sankyeom · 4 years

Text

picture perfect | k.m

pairings: kevin moon x reader genre: art student au, strangers to lovers, art!student kevin, actor!reader, another secret admirer situation (yes i know we already did that in my sangyeon fit but it’s cute so idc) summary: in which you find a sketchbook filled with drawings of you, and go on a mission to find the owner word count: 8.5k (these just get longer and longer wow) series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

Your psychology professor always spoke a mile a minute, and it made taking notes unnecessarily difficult. Usually when she lectured, your wrist cramped from writing so fast, and your classmates couldn’t wait to get out of the room. On one particular autumn afternoon, you stared into nothingness as your professor gave a lecture on Milgram’s experiments, running lines in your head instead of taking notes like you usually did.

When you were cast as one of the lead roles (who didn’t even have that many lines to begin with) in your University’s winter play of An Ideal Husband, you were ecstatic to be given a new challenge. You had never been involved in acting or theatre before University, and you always felt like you were behind your peers. Your excitement soon morphed into something less productive: fear.

You were so afraid to mess up and disappoint your peers that you frequently did poorly in rehearsals and were the source of your cast’s frustrations. Perhaps it was your lack of experience, or perhaps it was because you didn’t really have any faith in yourself. Either way, it was all you could think about.

As your classmates started packing up to leave, you realised that the lecture was over and that you had just been in your own head for over an hour without learning anything from your class. Scrambling to pack up, you put away your notebooks and pencils as your phone chimed. Checking the text, you saw a message from your friend Sunwoo asking if you wanted to get lunch with him.

Getting to your feet, you texted Sunwoo that you were down for lunch as you exited the now empty lecture hall. As you left, you felt your shoe come in contact with a solid object in the doorway; a notebook that somebody must have dropped on the way out. Knowing that you would want your notes back if someone found them – especially in this class, where your professor spoke way too fast – you opened the notebook to see who it belonged to.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It wasn’t a notebook, it was a sketchbook. With a drawing of you on the first page.

At first, you scolded yourself for assuming that the person in the drawing was you. It was presumptuous of you, wasn’t it? But the texture, colour, and length of the person’s hair perfectly matched yours. The person in the picture had your eyes, skin, clothes, and smile.

Perhaps it wasn’t so arrogant of you to presume that you were being depicted in the drawing.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” Professor Shin, who was on her way out, complimented. “You’re an excellent artist.”

You glanced up from the page, feeling a little dizzy. “It’s not mine,” you admitted, head spinning at the idea of somebody drawing you. Plain, simple, me? You couldn’t believe it. “I just found it here on the floor.”

“Looks like somebody admires you,” your Professor mused, smiling before bidding you farewell, leaving you standing in an empty lecture hall, clutching the sketchbook in your hands.

You tried to find a name on the other side of the cover, but there was no number or form of identification anywhere. The only thing that alluded to an identity was the small signature at the bottom right corner of the drawing.

Moon scribbles.

The first time Kevin saw you, he was seated three rows behind you in one of his Cultural Anthropology classes last semester. You were jotting notes as quickly as possible, brows furrowed together in concentration as you gripped your pen hard enough for your knuckles to turn white.

Kevin didn’t take any notes that day.

All the could do was watch you, appreciating the way your expressions changed as you understood the content, and the hesitance on your face when you volunteered an answer during class.

He didn’t mean to start drawing you. You had simply inspired him to pick up his pencil and start sketching, the soft strokes of the lead slowly but surely forming shapes that resembled your eyes, nose, lips…

Kevin didn’t think that you’d be all he could draw from that moment onwards. Even during his art classes; if the assignment was to study the scenery surrounding the University and draw a landscape, Kevin couldn’t get the image out of your face out of his head. Whether he used paint, charcoal, ink, or lead, it was your profile that emerged from his efforts.

Today was no different; Kevin was supposed to be studying the Psychology slides from class that day – which he hadn’t taken notes on because he was too busy sketching you – and yet he only had the urge to add the finishing touches to his drawing instead of facilitating his studying. Dragging his messenger bag over to his desk, Kevin rifled through it in search of his sketchbook. He had filled many, many pages with your face at that point, and it had become a habit for him to bring it everywhere with him in case he had the urge to draw.

Kevin furrowed his brows when he couldn’t find it. His heart pounded suddenly, the idea of him having lost his sketchbook in a place you might find it seeming terrifying and disastrous. After a final sweep of his bag – which included emptying it inside-out to make sure he didn’t miss anything – Kevin could only hope and pray that he’d find it before you did.

“You found what?” Sunwoo asked through a mouthful of noodles, his eyes comically large and rounded in surprise.

“A sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you replied in a monotone voice, knowing fully well that Sunwoo had heard and understood you the first time. This was the fourth time you had explained the situation, and it was starting to get a little old.

Eric narrowed his eyes, judging Sunwoo’s eating habits, before turning to face you. “Are the drawings cute?” he wondered.

“I wouldn’t say they’re cute,” you said absentmindedly, thinking back to the drawings you saw. After succumbing to your own curiosity, you had looked through the notebook to see what other drawings there were. You knew this was an invasion of privacy but you couldn’t help yourself. Surely enough, they were all of you.

“They were beautiful. Drawn in such detail that I couldn’t even believe it when I first saw them… And I look genuinely gorgeous in them,” you paused when Sunwoo scoffed at your words. “I’m not saying that to be vain,” you defended. “Trust me, I look much better in the sketches than in real life. Whoever drew them just… sees me differently than I see myself. I look beautiful in the pictures.”

“Your Professor’s right, it does sound like you’ve got yourself an admirer,” Eric teased you, pleased that somebody other than your close friends was starting to see how great you were. He wasn’t your best friend like Juyeon or Sunwoo, but he knew you well enough. “Did you get a name or anything?” he asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” you sulked. “I can take an educated guess that this person is probably in my Psych class since it’s the only class I have in that room, but who knows? It could be anyone that’s seen me before.”

“Maybe it’s one of your fans from the drama department,” Sunwoo poked fun at your cast members, not liking how they were treating you in rehearsals.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes, finally picking at your rice and starting to eat. “I just want to know who’s drawing me in such an amazing way. It’s so detailed that I assume it might be someone will a lot of skill, maybe an art major? But a lot of people draw as a hobby who aren’t art majors as well. Maybe-”

Eric interrupted you. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, trying to clam you down. “Just… slow down a little. Maybe they’ll come looking for it next time you have Psych? There’s no name or information so you can’t do anything to find them, anyways,” he rationalised, something that was usually your role in your friendships.

Your eyes lit up. “Moon scribbles,” you exclaimed.

Sunwoo gave you an unimpressed look. “Bless you.”

You ignored his cheek, taking out your phone and going onto Instagram. “The artist signed all of their drawings with a signature that says Moon scribbles,” you explained.

“You know it’s rude to go onto your phone during mealtimes,” Sunwoo replied.

You laughed. “I’ll be sure to remember that for the next time you do the same, Kim Sunwoo.”

After typing moonscribbles into the search bar, you saw an art page by the same name pop up. You couldn’t tell who it belonged to, as the bio vaguely gave information about the artist going to your University, studying art and being a pisces. Since the account was private, you decided to risk it and request to follow them, no matter how strange that might be if they weren’t the person you were looking for.

“I should have invited Juyeon out for lunch instead,” Sunwoo decided, picking at your rice dish in between bites of his noodles.

“Juyeon would rather hang out with Eric than you anyway,” you teased your friend back, knowing that Juyeon and Eric had a deeper friendship despite Sunwoo and Eric being the same age. Eric grinned, amused that the was the topic of discussion and not chiming in to deny anything. “And excuse me, I paid for lunch, you rascal! Now stop complaining, I’m done anyway.”

“Alright, fine. Did anything come up?” Sunwoo wondered, slapping your wrist when you tried to take some of his noodles. You rolled your eyes. Typical Sunwoo: always taking your food but never willing to share his with you.

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

A few days passed without any response from moonscribbles on Instagram. You checked a few times a day to see if they ever accepted your request to follow them, but nothing ever came back. They didn’t deny your request, nor did they let you follow them either. It was frustrating, but it fell to the back of your mind after a week due to your schedule.

You had started doing full rehearsals with your cast members on stage for the play. At first, you thought that the setting might help you remember your lines and act without feeling awkward, but you were wrong. Most of your cast mates thought you got one of the lead roles for an alternate reason; perhaps you were related to someone on the University’s board and the director put you in because they wanted to keep their job. None of that was true, of course, but it didn’t help you make any friends.

The only friend you made was Younghoon, who played the lead opposite you, and with whom you frequently got together to go over lines and practice. He was one of those actors who was a completely different person from his role; he could keep be totally in character while doing his lines and the second the scene was over, he was back to his smiley self.

It didn’t help your confidence that he was an absolute pro. It only made you seem less competent in comparison, and you scolded yourself for even thinking that. Of course you knew it wasn’t Younghoon’s fault that he was simply much better at acting than you, but it definitely hurt your pride even more.

After another disastrous rehearsal, your cast mates had left to go backstage so you could have a word with the director. Younghoon sent you an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder before he followed your cast mates backstage, going over his lines in a faint whisper.

“Y/n,” your director began gently. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but what’s up with you?” You said nothing, prompting her to keep talking. “Your audition was really great. I knew I wanted you to play a lead role the second you were done auditioning. But you’ve been doing pretty poorly in rehearsals.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Your director sighed. “Look Y/n, I still want you to play your role. I like your chemistry with Younghoon and I think you guys could be really great leads. But if things don’t improve, I’m going to have to replace you with your understudy for the sake of this production.”

Even though you knew it was the obvious thing to do, it still hurt to hear. “I understand,” you whispered, nodding as you glanced at the floor.

“I really hope you can figure this out,” your director said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let me know if I can help in any way, okay?” You nodded, and your director excused herself, leaving you standing at the edge of the stage by yourself.

You groaned once you were alone, taking a seat at the edge of the stage and letting your legs dangle over the edge. Welcoming the silence in the theatre as most of the cast had left for the day, you allowed yourself to lay back and close your eyes.

Why couldn’t you get this right?

Maybe I should just quit the play, you thought to yourself. It’s probably for the best.

When you heard the gentle patter of footsteps leading onto the stage, you spoke without opening your eyes. “Let me guess, you came to tell me how terrible I am too?” you uttered, not even caring who it was anymore.

The footsteps paused. “Um, actually, I’m just here to paint the sets…” a soft male voice spoke, causing you to open your eyes and sit up.

A familiar face stood a few metres away from you, paintbrushes and paints in hand. He had black hair that slightly covered his eyes, cat-like eyes and small lips that were pursed at the awkward interaction the two of you had just had.

“Sorry,” you apologised, getting to your feet. “It’s been a rough day,” you paused. “You’re Kevin, right?”

He looked surprised that you knew who he was. “Oh. Yes, actually.”

“I’m close with Juyeon,” you explained, realising how strange it might seem that you knew his name and recognised him. “I suppose I should probably have led with that.”

Kevin smiled. “No worries. I know you as well, you’re Y/n. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” you replied, bending down to collect your script and other belongings, pushing them into your tote bag as quickly as possible. “I’ll get out of your hair, then,” you smiled at him, implying it as your farewell.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re terrible,” Kevin confessed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and starting to mix paints. You glanced at him. “Are you in your head a little? Maybe. But you’re far from terrible,” he assured you, his brown eyes brimming with kindness.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” you replied. “Thanks. Although, you seem more like an artist than an actor,” you added, teasing him just a little. You couldn’t help yourself, he was pretty cute.

Kevin laughed. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “If you want me to brag about being the lead in Aladdin in middle school, then I will.”

You placed your tote bag on your shoulder, holding your hands up in surrender. “I take it back,” you said immediately. “You have more experience than I do on stage.” The two of you shared grins.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Kevin assured you. “If I can do it then you certainly can.”

He seemed really sincere, and you appreciated it. “Thanks, Kevin,” you said, feeling much lighter and in a far better mood than before Kevin had come on stage. “I’ll see you around,” you bid your farewells before exiting the stage.

You’d have to ask Juyeon more about his friend Kevin.

The next time you and Kevin bumped into each other was after one of your rehearsals a few weeks later.

You had improved in your rehearsal times, with a lot of help from Younghoon – who practiced with you in between classes – and Sunwoo – who you ran lines with anytime the two of you were together. When you were done rehearsing, your director had expressed how happy she was that you were starting to warm up to the stage and really get into the character the way she was hoping you would. Younghoon earned himself two week’s worth of free coffee from you, and your cast finally stopped glaring at you whenever you came to rehearsals.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Kevin, who started coming onstage to work on the sets with other people who were involved in the production process. “Good to see you again,” you told him.

“You too,” Kevin beamed, his hair falling over his eyes just slightly. You had the urge to brush it out of the way so you could see him better, but you resisted the urge and scolded yourself for being so forward. “You guys are looking pretty good out there,” he complimented, waving at Younghoon as he left the theatre. His older friend gave him a knowing look, making big eyes at him and puckering his lips to tease Kevin about his crush on you.

“Thank you,” you smiled back at him, entirely clueless to Kevin cursing Younghoon with his eyes right in front of you. “The sets are really coming along too,” you commend him, gesturing around you. “It’s certainly adding some more colour to our rehearsals.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kevin replied. “Set painting isn’t exactly my vocation or anything, but it’s a fun way to help out with my skillset.”

“Skillset?” you echoed, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Ah,” Kevin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, I’m a fine arts major. So set painting is a little less refined than what I usually do. Not that I’m bragging,” he added quickly.

“Not at all,” you agreed, your eyes widening in realisation. “Fine arts, that’s a really cool major. You must be pretty talented to get into fine arts here, it’s such a competitive major,” your eyes widened in sudden realisation. “I’d love to see something of yours that doesn’t involve painting sets,” you motioned to the stage around you.

Kevin almost blushed. “Really?” he asked, his heart beat hammering in his chest at the idea of you seeing his art.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head eagerly. Partly because you were really curious about his art, but mostly because Kevin was pretty damn cute. “For sure! I mean, if you come to opening night of the play, I’d love to go see your art some time.”

“How’s this Saturday?” Kevin asked, his words almost slurring together at the speed he was talking. “The art department’s putting on an exhibition and a few of my drawings are going to be in it.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed. “Do you think I could bring some friends?”

Kevin nodded, his deep brown eyes brightening at the idea. “For sure! I already invited Juyeon but you can bring Sunwoo along as well.”

“Then I’ll be there,” you promised.

“Oh my god, are you touching the art?” you heard Kevin exclaim semi-loudly. You froze from your place, pointing at the water fountain from which you were filling up a cup of water to drink.

“What?” you asked dumbly, your eyes widening as Kevin smirked, hiding his laughter.

It was the Saturday of Kevin’s exhibition and you were doing your best to blend in with all the artistically-minded people in the room; admiring the paintings, motioning at the sculptures and pondering over the meanings behind the light exhibitions.

“I thought this was just a regular water fountain,” you tried to defend yourself.

“It is, I’m just messing with you,” Kevin shrugged, causing you to exhale in relief and slap Kevin’s arm.

“That was awful of you,” you scolded, unable to hide the large grin making its way onto your face. “You suck.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kevin retorted easily. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied. “So, when am I going to see your pieces?” you asked, motioning around the room. It was filled to the brim and people were bustling around the room to get a good look at every piece.

“Right now if you’re up for it,” Kevin suggested, waving as Juyeon and Sunwoo made their way over to the pair of you. You had excused yourself to get some water when Kevin spotted you and came over. “Hey guys. Sunwoo, good to see you again.”

“You too,” Sunwoo replied courteously, which was unlike him. Sunwoo knew Kevin vaguely through Juyeon, who was the same age as Kevin and had a lot of classes with him, and Eric, who Kevin often hung out with because they both spoke English. “Any of these yours?”

“A few,” Kevin said modestly.

Sunwoo nodded, looking around. “Are they good or are they more… conceptual?” he asked, his own way of asking whether or not Kevin’s art was a piece of crap or not.

You rolled your eyes. “Your eloquence astounds me, Sunwoo,” you said sarcastically.

“Well I might as well get to the point,” Sunwoo chided, glancing back at Kevin. “So?”

Kevin, who was observing you and Sunwoo with the same amused smile that Juyeon was, motioned the three of you over as he led you in the direction of his drawings. “I’m not so sure if they’re good, or conceptual, but I suppose you could judge that for yourself,” he told Sunwoo, coming to a halt in front of a display of drawings.

The drawings were lively and bright; colours in the form of pastels and charcoal bringing richness and warmth to the image. Most of his drawings depicted a faceless person. There were multiple drawings where the person was being portrayed from the back, and ones that were head-on didn’t have any facial features.

“These are amazing,” you breathed out, enchanted by the creativity of the drawings, as well as the immense detail that went into them.

“I like them,” Sunwoo decided, causing Juyeon to nod in agreement.

“They’re really good,” Juyeon complimented his friend, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m really glad you decided to put something on display this year.” Juyeon knew all about the artistic slump Kevin was in last year, so he didn’t have any art on display.

Kevin thanked Juyeon quietly, still studying your expression. “Can I ask why they’re faceless?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied the drawings further.

“Ah, that,” Kevin began, an uncharacteristic shyness appearing in his tone. “Well, I’ve been inspired by somebody for a few months now,” he explained. “I suppose I made my drawings faceless because I don’t want people to know who my muse is. I’m not ready to face how I feel when I draw them yet, and I think it’s too personal to put in an exhibition.”

You nodded your head, understanding where he was coming from. “That’s really great. I hope that one day I’ll get to see their face,” you said kindly, genuinely enjoying his art. Your eyes widened as you realised something. “Hey, do you know the other students in your major well?” you asked him.

Kevin raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of topic. “Yeah, I think so. We’re a small major and I have all of my 300-level classes with all the same people. Why do you ask?”

“Would you be able to recognise one of your peer’s work?” you inquired, the sketchbook in your dorm room burning a hole in your mind. He might be able to solve my curiosity.

“Maybe,” Kevin drawled slowly. “Why?” he found your sudden change of pace surprising. “What’s up?”

“Well, I found someone’s sketchbook in one of my classes and I was wondering who it belonged to,” you began, hesitating before bringing up the sketchbook you found in your Psychology class. “But they didn’t put their name on it so I can’t return it to the owner. It was really detailed and skilled work, so I thought they might be a fine arts major.”

Kevin’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

His worst nightmare had come true: you had found his sketchbook. His sketchbook that was filled with his heart-felt drawings of you. And here you were, asking him if he knew who it belonged to. Somehow, it was equal parts thrilling and mortifying.

Sunwoo, having heard about your secret admirer decided to check out a different part of the exhibition, but Juyeon – who was hearing this for the first time – stayed out of curiosity. “You found someone’s sketchbook?” he repeated. “What was in it?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh. Well, here’s the thing… There’s some drawings of me in it,” you admitted, feeling shy about divulging everything about the sketchbook to Kevin. “I just… I guess I want to meet the person that made me feel so vibrant and beautiful when looking at the drawings.”

“You have an admirer,” Juyeon realised, beaming at you; eyes squinting into little crescents. “That’s adorable. Does it say anything inside?”

“Yeah it does, actually,” you told him, giving him a smile before meeting Kevin’s eyes again. “All of the drawings are signed with the handle Moon scribbles,” you recalled. “No name or phone number, though.”

Juyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Kev, isn’t Moon scribbles-“

“A really interesting name?” Kevin cut Juyeon off, sending him the clear message that he wasn’t ready to tell you about the fact that you were his muse and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Getting the message, Juyeon eagerly agreed, thanking Kevin for finishing his train of thought. “Um, I don’t think I’ve heard of it before. But if you show me the drawings, maybe I could recognise the style?” Kevin suggested, coming up with a solution for you to find the owner of the sketchbook.

“That would be really great, actually,” you acknowledged. “I could bring it by the next time we hang out,” you suggested, excited to figure out who you should thank for their hard work.

“Next time?” Kevin echoed, excitement filling his stomach. “Are you really so eager to solve your mystery?” he teased you.

“Well, you’re not such a bad addition,” you added with a wink.

Kevin’s heart soared.

You met up with Kevin in the library a few days later to show him your sketchbook. It was good timing because you definitely needed to study for your Psychology class after zoning out in your last few lectures, so the library was the perfect setting to meet.

“Hey,” you greeted Kevin, taking the seat next to him on one of the sofas in the more secluded area of the library.

“Hi,” Kevin mumbled in return, his voice sounding quieter and more hoarse than usual. At first, you thought it might be the fact that he had to whisper that made him sound more quiet. Then, you spotted the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he was wearing glasses, which he didn’t normally do.

“You okay?” you asked him, seeing him stretch out and yawn in his seat.

“Me?” Kevin murmured, meeting your gaze with tired, glazed-over eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Not to sound like an asshole who’s telling you that you look terrible, which I’m not, but you look really tired,” you had to tell Kevin. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You look like you could use some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Kevin said the word like it’s funny. “Sleep and I… we aren’t friends.”

You smiled sympathetically at your new friend. “Up all night studying?” you wondered.

“Insomnia,” Kevin corrected you.

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding. “So sleep is… a distant acquaintance?” you played off his previous joke.

“Something like that,” he allowed, moving his glasses up onto his forehead to rub his eyes. “I’m good, though. I look like this most days, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” you trail off, your concern still not being calmed by Kevin’s explanation. “We can do this anther time if it helps, though. I wouldn’t want you to be unwell because of me.”

Kevin grinned, adjusting the beanie on his head. “But I couldn’t possibly be unwell if I’m around you,” he said, pointing his finger in the air as if he had made an excellent realisation. “Now, show me the sketchbook.”

You pulled the sketchbook out of your tote bag and handed it over to him.

Seeing it right in front of him, Kevin could confirm that it was definitely his sketch book that you had found. Although the chances of another person on campus being entirely smitten by you to the point where you became their artistic muse was slim, it wasn’t zero.

“Can I,” he motioned to the sketchbook, asking for permission to open it. It was incredibly ironic, but Kevin was too embarrassed to come clean about the sketchbook being his.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, telling him to flip through the pages.

Kevin did so, pretending he was seeing all the drawings for the first time. He paused on every page, looking over the details in the sketches and the way they realistically depicted your features. Even though he was the one who drew them, Kevin could admit that the drawings were really great. They were great because he appreciated the subject and was inspired by you. That much was clear to anybody.

“Wow,” Kevin said when he was done looking at all the drawings, holding the sketchbook on his lap. “That’s… you,” he observed, as if he didn’t already know.

“So I’m not crazy?” you asked immediately, biting your lip. “That’s me?” you glanced down at the open page in front of Kevin, seeing the resemblance between you and the person in the drawing.

“Oh it’s definitely you,” Kevin confirmed. “Unless you have an identical twin somewhere out there, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s you.”

You let out a relieved sigh, leaning back onto the sofa. “Okay, good. I thought I was being really shallow and presumptuous at first but it’s good that you agree,” you told him, feeling a weight being lifted off your chest. “So, does it look familiar?”

“I’m not sure,” Kevin replied vaguely, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. “Do you think I could keep this? Maybe look over it a few more times when I’m not about to pass out,” he added.

“Sure,” you allowed. You trusted Kevin enough that he wouldn’t lose the sketchbook, since all of your mutual friends spoke very highly of him. Besides, you were becoming more impressed by him every time the two of you met. “I hope something comes up. I looked moonscribbles up on Instagram but their account is private and they haven’t responded to my follow request yet.”

Kevin had completely forgotten about his private art Instagram account. Before he was inspired by you to draw, he was in a serious slump and had been spiralling downwards. In this time, he made his Instagram account private in an effort to not think about it too much. Kevin scolded himself for not realising that you would look him up on social media to find him.

“That’s too bad,” he said sympathetically. “Maybe they’ll respond soon?”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, sighing. “I just… I want to meet them.”

“Just out of curiosity, why do you want to meet them so badly?” Kevin wondered. “Because they drew pretty pictures of you?”

“Kind of?” you replied unsurely. “That’s definitely part of it. I guess I wanted to meet somebody who thought I was vibrant and colourful and beautiful,” you shrugged, glancing down at your lap. “Because I don’t think that about myself at all. It’s why I suck at acting, and it’s why my cast mates hate me. I just thought that if somebody out there really thought I was special, maybe I would have a reason to believe it, too.”

Kevin felt butterflies rising in his stomach again, but not in a fluttery, nervous way. He was anxious about what was going to happen. “I’ll do my best to help out,” he said gently. “And Y/n?” you looked back up at Kevin. “I think you’re special,” he admitted. “A lot of people do. Juyeon, Sunwoo, Eric, Younghoon… You don’t need Moon scribbles to be special, you’re already special to us.”

A grateful, shy smile spread across your lips at his words. “Thanks, Kev. For your help, and for saying that. I really appreciate it,” you acknowledged afterwards, realising that Kevin was going out of his way to figure out your mystery while he was dead tired.

Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you cleared your throat and changed the subject, heart hammering. “I’m going to stay here and study for my Psychology class, so you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get some sleep.”

“Psychology?” Kevin echoed. “Are you taking it with Professor Shin?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “She talks so fast that my hand feels like it’s going to fall off after her lectures,” you complained.

Kevin laughed. “I can relate,” he commented. “I didn’t think you were in my class. I’m in section fifteen, what about you?”

“Section twenty-two,” you said, shrugging. “Although I’m glad to hear that it’s not just my class that she’s driving crazy.”

“Ditto,” Kevin agreed. “I actually have to get some studying done for that class too. You mind if I stay?”

“Not at all,” you promised. “It always helps to study with a friend,” you added, pulling out your notes and laptop from your tote bag.

After setting up all of your work, you quickly got to studying, cross-referencing terms from your notes to the textbook to make sure you didn’t write down anything wrong in your hurry. Kevin was silent and still beside you, which you took no notice of because you were so focused. In your distraction, he soon drifted off to sleep with his pencil still in hand, head lulling back to rest on the sofa as his eyes shut by their own accord.

Forty minutes later, you had finished both of the units on Social Psychology and furrowed your brows at an unfamiliar name. “Hey Kev, did you guys talk about-“ you paused after turning to face your new friend, seeing that he was peacefully sleeping, his head now leaning to the side to face you.

The sight of him sleeping peacefully warmed your heart, especially after he had talked about his insomnia earlier. Smiling, you pulled your headphones out of your tote bag so you could listen to the recorded lectures in favour of waking up Kevin to ask him for help. As carefully as you could, you slid the pencil out of his palm and placed it to the side so he could get some rest.

You spent the next half an hour studying in silence, until you noticed Eric, Sunwoo and Jacob walking up to you and Kevin. “Hey,” Sunwoo greeted you, earning a wave from you.

“Hi guys,” you whispered back. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Kevin dating?” Eric interrupted whatever Sunwoo was about to say, an excited glint in his eyes. “You guys are in the make-out section of the library!”

You made a face. “That’s why nobody’s here?” you realised, looking around and frowning. “No, Eric. We’re just studying together.”

Jacob grinned. “Looks like Kevin’s making really great progress on that front,” he teased. “I’m Jacob, by the way,” he added, since the two of you hadn’t properly been introduced yet.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied. “Nice to finally meet you! These rascals have told me all about you,” you motioned to Sunwoo and Eric, who beamed proudly.

“I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” Jacob replied. “And I’ve come to collect Kevin. If he doesn’t wake up soon, he’s going to miss his Ceramics class,” he explained.

“Aw,” you pouted, glancing over at Kevin. “He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, though. And he said he was struggling to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Jacob agreed. “I hate waking him. Believe me, I’m his roommate so I see it all first-hand. But attendance is graded in this class, so…” he trailed off with a small shrug before leaning over and waking Kevin up.

Kevin awoke, eyes blinking drowsily as he took in the image of four people staring at him. “What did I do?” he asked, wondering what prompted all the attention.

You grinned, finding the sight rather cute. “Your wake-up service is here to tell you it’s ceramics time,” you explained.

“I fell asleep,” Kevin realised. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, feeling bad that you were studying in silence when you were supposed to be helping each other out.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you got some shut-eye,” you assured him. “Go get ready for your class.”

Kevin gathered all of his things into his bag and waved his goodbyes, trudging out of the library with Jacob. “So,” Jacob began, a wide grin gracing his features. “That’s Y/n?” he teased.

“Yes, that’s Y/n,” Kevin replied quietly.

“The famous Y/n?”

“Oh my god please tell me you didn’t say anything to Y/n.”

“What should I have said? Oh so you’re the Y/n that Kevin has been in love with all semester! The famous muse! Nice to meet you, I’m the guy that has to listen to him gush about you.”

“Don’t make me hide your guitar.”

moonscribbles accepted your follow request!

You sat up from where you were lying down on your bed, startled at the notification you had just received. Racing to open your Instagram app, you looked at moonscribbles’s account. None of the drawings on their account were of you, so you couldn’t decide if they were the right person. But they simply had to be. They went to your school, they studied art…

Braving it, you decided to send them a private message.

Hi! I think I found your sketchbook in Professor Shin’s lecture hall. How do you want me to return it to you?

You waited for a response, which came within a minute.

You can keep it.

You were pouting over your cereal in the dining hall when Juyeon joined you, his plate stacked high with all kinds of delicious breakfast foods. “Hey pouty,” he teased you, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge when he took the seat next to yours. His smile never failed to cheer you up, which is why your frown caused concern to grow in your best friend. “Why the long face?”

“I’m never going to meet moonscribbles,” you told him, your eyes uncharacteristically sad and shiny when they met Juyeon’s.

He startled at how upset you were. “What? Why would you say that?”

“They accepted my follow request on Instagram,” you explained. “And they told me I could keep the sketchbook. Then they went offline,” you recalled. “I guess I was wrong about them.”

“I’m sorry. Whoever they are, they clearly have no idea what they’re missing.” Juyeon frowned, sympathetic of your situation and confused about what Kevin thought he was doing.

“What who’s missing?” Jacob and Eric took the seats opposite you and Juyeon, their plates equally filled with breakfast foods.

“Moon scribbles,” you said vaguely, not wanting to get into it with anyone other than Juyeon and Sunwoo. While you were starting to get to know Jacob better, you didn’t feel comfortable enough around them to discuss the matter with them. And of course you loved Eric, and he knew your situation, but you hadn’t anticipated feeling so upset about Moon scribbles’s response.

“Kevin?” Jacob asked innocently, picking up his fork and elbowing Eric so he wouldn’t steal his food. “What did he do?”

Your eyes snapped over to Jacob. “What did you just say?” you asked. Juyeon’s eyes widened, mouth slightly open as Jacob revealed Kevin’s secret to you without even realising it.

“I was asking what Kevin did,” Jacob repeated. “You said Moon scribbles, didn’t you? Kevin’s artist handle?”

“That’s clever,” Eric chimed in, innocently eating his food. “Since his last name is Moon, and all.” Then his eyes widened and he realised the situation, his gaze snapping over at you to see how you were handling the reveal.

In that moment, you’d never felt like more of an idiot.

“Kevin is Moon scribbles,” you echoed, dropping your fork onto your tray.

“Oh,” Jacob paused, reading the room as he saw the way Juyeon was staring at him. “Did you… not know that?”

“No,” you told him, having lost your already minimal appetite. “He didn’t say a thing.”

“Oh boy,” Jacob said awkwardly. “I feel like I definitely just messed up.”

“No, no,” you denied, waving your hand in Jacob’s direction. “Not at all. I’m just glad that I know who it is,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself. “Did you know?” you asked Juyeon. “That day at the exhibition… You were trying to tell me that you knew it was Kevin, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I knew,” Juyeon replied slowly, confirming your suspicions.

For a moment, a dull pain ached in your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, hurt that your best friend had lied to you.

“Because I figured Kevin wanted to tell you in his own time,” he explained. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, I just thought he’d do the right thing and explain it to you himself. It felt like it wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I understand,” you got to your feet, grabbing your tray after putting your bag on your shoulder.

Juyeon stood up with you. “Are you upset with me?” he asked. “Because I understand if you are.”

You did your best to smile, not caring if it looked real or not. “I’m not upset with you,” you assured him. “I’m upset, but not at you. I have to get to the last dress rehearsal before opening night, so,” you glanced over at Jacob and Eric, who both looked mortified. “Enjoy your breakfast,” you told them before putting your tray away and walking to the theatre as quickly as you could.

“Hey!” your director greeted you when you came in, beaming. “You’re like a half hour early,” she observed.

“Oh, I’ve just come to go over lines and talk to some friends,” you lied, smiling at her before stepping backstage. The set design volunteers were adding last-minute touched to their sets, and you knew that was where you’d find Kevin.

“Hey,” he greeted you when you arrived in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Moon scribbles doesn’t want their sketchbook back,” you told him, as if you didn’t know that he was Moon scribbles. “So you don’t have to keep looking for them,” you added.

“Oh, okay,” Kevin nodded as if he didn’t already know this. “Did you want the sketchbook back?”

“You can keep it,” you declined, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s rightfully yours anyway.”

Kevin paused his painting. “It is?” he asked, voice squeaking just slightly in surprise.

“Yeah, Moon scribbles,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Besides, it’s the only way you’ll get to see me ever again, anyway,” you added, frowning as you turned around to go. “Bye, Kevin.”

“Wait,” Kevin put his fine paintbrush down to stop you from leaving.

“What?” you asked him, facing him with a raised eyebrow. “You know what, I actually really want to hear this. What exactly is it that you’re going to say to save this situation?” you wondered.

Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for it to go on this long,” he began.

“That’s a joke,” you accused. “You knew how much this meant to me! Just admit that you were never going to tell me that you’re Moon scribbles.”

“How could I tell you?” Kevin exclaimed, startling you with his sudden increase in volume. “How could I just come forward and tell you that it was me? What would you have thought of me?”

“I’d have thought more of you than I do now,” you retorted. “Look, I get it now. I read the situation all wrong. You don’t think I’m special or vibrant or any of those things. You just drew me because I was there, I suppose,” you decided, feeling your heart dropping in your chest at your own words.

“That is not true,” Kevin denied, shaking his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I suppose you might have though I was pretty if you drew me,” you allowed. “But clearly, I was putting too much onto this whole Moon scribbles thing, and it didn’t mean anything to you at all. Which is fine, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It just sucks that you couldn’t just tell me that to my face,” you confessed wholeheartedly. “But it’s fine. You can just go back to drawing your faceless muse now, I’m over it,” you lied.

“That’s not why I didn’t want to tell you that I’m Moon scribbles,” Kevin insisted. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I drew you just because you’re beautiful.”

“That worked out well,” you muttered.

Kevin sighed. “I don’t care about your looks, as ironic as that sounds. When I first saw you… You exuded an aura. I know that sounds cheesy and not everyone believes in vibes or energy, or whatever, but it’s true. You inspired me to draw and be creative,” he explained. “But I liked you when I met you. When I saw you in class and when I saw you around Sunwoo and Juyeon. You don’t get it. You are my faceless muse. You have been ever since our Cultural Anthropology class last semester.”

That stopped your train of thought. “You were in that class?” you repeated, confused.

“Yes I was. The first time I saw you… I swear, I haven’t drawn anything other than you since that day,” Kevin’s tone was uncharacteristically serious, and you felt inclined to believe him. “No matter how hard I tried. Flowers turned into your eyes, landscapes became your hair; I was a man possessed. I still am.”

“Then why not tell me all of this?” you wondered, frustrated with the situation.

“I thought that if you found out I was Moon scribbles, you’d just think I was shallow,” he paused. “Or worse.”

You rose an eyebrow. “Worse?”

Now it was Kevin’s turn to sound frustrated. “I mean, I’m not so great and special. I figured you’d be disappointed that it’s me.”

Your heart clenched for him. “How could I be disappointed that it’s you?” you asked him. “You’re great. It’s me who’s awful.”

“You aren’t awful,” he denied. “You’re so much greater than you can see. Don’t you get it? You inspired me to create after the most awful year I’ve ever had artistically. I drew you instead of studying, I drew you instead of leaving my dorm, hell, I drew you instead of sleeping. You didn’t misunderstand anything. I do think that you’re special, and vibrant.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Okay,” you spoke quietly, your mind spinning in circles. “I believe you.”

Kevin nodded. “Good.”

You nodded back at him, unsure of how to continue. “So… You have a sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you decided to tease him, just to bring some of the usual lightheartedness you felt around Kevin back.

Kevin visibly reddened at your words. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said it was just one,” he confessed.

You brightened at his words. “You have multiple sketchbooks full of drawings of me?” you exclaimed.

“I made drawings of you for the art exhibition,” he reminded you. “I haven’t been able to draw anything else for seven months. And I draw a lot, so the sketchbooks just started piling up. Plus my iPad,” catching the delighted glint in your eyes, Kevin cut himself off. “You know what, we don’t have to talk about my iPad.”

You smiled, flattered that Kevin had been so inspired by you. “Well, thank you. For filling sketchbooks and iPads and whatever other mediums with drawings of me. You made me feel seen for the first time in a really long time, and I appreciate it,” you acknowledged his efforts. “Is this why everyone acts so weird when we’re together?” you put the pieces together.

“What are you talking about?” Kevin asked, dreading your answer.

“Eric practically skips over to me whenever he sees me now, asking about you and all kinds of other things. Jacob is a lot more subtle, but he looks at me like a proud dad sometimes,” you explained.

Kevin rested his palm against his forehead. “Why are they so obvious?”

“The real question is: Why was Juyeon the least obvious,” you retorted.

“I think he just wanted us both to figure things out in our own time,” Kevin mused, earning a hum and a nod in agreement from you.

“Hey Y/n,” Younghoon poked his head around the corner. “We’re getting ready for rehearsals. Are you going to be done in time to change?” he asked, eyes flitting between you and Kevin.

“Yeah, I’m good to start getting ready. Thanks Younghoon,” you agreed, grateful that your friend wasn’t making a big deal out of what he might have overheard. Younghoon nodded, disappearing with a wink to get himself ready. “Well, that’s my cue,” you trailed off, motioning to the backstage area where you had to get changed for your last dress rehearsal.

Kevin nodded, slightly upset that your conversation didn’t come to a closure yet. “Okay,” he replied. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You agreed with him, grabbing your bag from where you dropped it on the floor and making your way to the changing rooms. Before you opened the door, you turned back to face Kevin, who had been watching you leave. “I came to your exhibition, so you have to come to opening night,” you reminded him of the agreement the two of you made.

“I’ll be there,” Kevin assured you, taking it as a sign that the two of you could still – at the very least – be friends.

“Good,” you smiled. “And after opening night, we have a few days off so I would definitely be available, say, Wednesday?” you informed him, hoping he’d get the idea.

Kevin brightened up, his posture straightening suddenly. “Oh?” he stammered. “Would you maybe want to get dinner on Wednesday?” he offered. “Like, a date?”

You grinned, your eye dropping into a wink. “What an excellent idea,” you told him. “By the way, don’t bother asking the boys about what I like, they’re completely clueless. My favourite flowers are peonies.”

“Peonies,” Kevin repeated, accompanied by a nod. “Any preferred colour?” he asked, giddy with excitement at the outcome your confrontation had.

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

note: okay i know you guys waited forever for this so thank you so much for your patience!! i hope you guys enjoyed it xx

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #kevin #kevin imagines #kevin x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #the boyz fanfic #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #kevin moon #2k celebration

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years

Text

lessons in romance // nate mackinnon x reader

summary: nate mackinnon is really bad at keeping a steady girlfriend. so bad that’s become somewhat of a joke between him and the boys. but you come along and try to set him straight.

word count: 14k+

author’s note: it’s finally here. i’m honestly surprised at how fast i cranked this out... which is actually a LOT longer than most people write on here so mayb i shouldn’t brag lmao! this fic was inspired by THIS gifset. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE give me feedback/reblog!!!!!!

warnings: smut (i jumped out of my comfort zone people. i finally wrote some lmfao) & mentions of a past toxic ex

Weekends were better spent in bed or visiting family, not sitting in a crowded bar with men who reminded you slightly of your ex-boyfriend. You were probably overreacting a little bit because the guys truly meant well, but their overly boy-ish energy was startlingly similar to that of your ex. Maybe a few more drinks would help the cause and you could get passed the sex jokes.

Mel Landeskog was the reason you were there. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, much like her husband, and so you were sitting across the booth from some of the largest men you’d ever seen in your life. Gabe gave you the rundown of their names as they arrived though the only one you could remember was Cale. He was a perpetually blushing 21-year-old named after a vegetable; how could you forget him?

“Do you think Nate’s upset about this one?” Cale asked. The new topic of conversation was their friends’ disastrous date since he texted to tell them he was broken up with and was on his way to them. “They were sort of serious.”

“We’re about to find out,” Gabe announced, nodding towards the entrance of the bar. Nate was on his way to the booth, tired smile on his lips. As he got closer, he started shaking his head and the table erupted in chirps at his expense.

You recognized him from earlier at the Landeskog’s pregame. He was slipping out of the front door as you stepped in. His cologne was the type the good-looking guys always wear, and you weren’t disappointed when you looked up at him. He was handsome with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows and the top three buttons undone, and when he smiled, you all but swallowed your tongue.

He began to greet his teammates. The chain around his neck caught the light of the DJ booth and you found yourself gazing at it. You tore your eyes away from the gold at the sound of Mel’s voice introducing you.

“This is my girlfriend, YN, from my Saturday morning Cycle class,” she said. “And, YN, this is my husband’s boyfriend, Nate MacKinnon.”

He threw his head back in a laugh at Mel’s joke as he extended a hand to you. “Nice to meet you.”

You listened to the quips from his teammates, each one with their own opinion about Nate’s relationship or lack thereof. It seemed like this wasn’t the first time in recent months that he’d been broken up and it had become somewhat of a spectacle to the boys. Mel, who’d seen this song and dance one too many times, wrapped her fingers around your elbow and tugged you with her towards the bar.

“What was that about?”

“Nate can’t hold down a girlfriend,” she explained. “It’s been a joke since he first came here because they almost all have the same issue with him.”

“And what is that?”

“He’s not romantic enough.”

You glanced back over your shoulder and watched the boys laughing amongst each other. It looked like they were celebrating as they lifted their beers in a sad looking toast, and it hit you right where it hurt.

You really saw your ex-boyfriend in the group now and, though you tried not to make assumptions, you found it hard to set the first impression aside. The liquor in your system didn’t help. With each joke about his dating misadventures, you became less of a fan of him and by the end of the night you were bubbling over in annoyance.

Gabe and Mel offered Nate a ride home towards the end of the night and you managed to keep your expression neutral when he accepted. As they headed out to grab the car, you and Nate waited at the curb several feet away from each other.

“I’m sorry about your break up,” you offered after a moment of silence. The statement came out more like a question and Nate’s lips quirked up into a smirk at the inflection of your voice. “Sorry, I just can’t tell if you’re upset or not, so I don’t know if I should even offer my condolences.”

“I’m, uh, I’m not upset,” he began. “I saw it coming.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say this isn’t the first time a girl’s broken up with me for not being romantic enough,” he said. Thoughts were filling your head faster than you could make sense of them. There was no reason for the situation to annoy you as much as it did. You didn’t know this guy and the odds that you ever saw him again were slim.

“So, if it’s not the first time, why hasn’t anything changed?”

“Excuse me?” he asked. There was a crease between his eyebrows. He hadn’t been expecting you to respond like that. You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t your business

“I mean, you act like a martyr when you probably would be successful in love if you just put in the romantic effort these girls are craving,” you said. Your anger had begun to boil over and words were spilling from your mouth faster than you could stop them. “Guys like you are the worst. You lead girls on and make them think they’re special. Next thing they know, they’ve been wasting time on you and your lack of effort.”

The comment made Nate take a step away from you. His eyebrows drew together in shock and confusion. As you spoke, he turned his body to you and crossed his arms over his chest. The moment you closed your mouth, he interjected. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to,” you argued, turning to him. You were in a stand-off with a man several inches taller than you, and to any passerby it probably looked a little bit funny, but you weren’t backing down. “I know guys like you. I’ve dated guys like you.”

Before Nate could continue arguing, the Landeskogs pulled up to the curb. Mel hollered out for you two and the topic of conversation was dropped.

---

You regretted everything you said to Nate the moment you woke up the morning after. It wasn’t like you to be so rude, especially not to someone you didn’t know. Your heart stopped every time Mel texted you in the days following. You thought that at any moment she’d confront you about what you said to him, but it never came. As the week carried on, you found yourself forgetting the harsh words spoken outside the bar and the worry stopped.

Until Thursday night.

The knock at your apartment door was unexpected. You met your roommate, Mara’s, narrowed eyes over the dirty dishes you were working on. By the look on both your faces, neither one of you had a guest on the way over. She turned on her heel to check the peephole and the next look she gave you was equally as confusing as the previous one. She still opened the door.

“Does YN live here?”

The voice sent shockwaves through your veins and you stopped your movements, plates held just above your head as you were about to slide them into the cabinet. Nate MacKinnon was at your apartment. Mara nodded at him slowly before stepping back to let him in.

“Hi,” he greeted. His hands were tucked into his sweatshirt pocket, legs clad in compression leggings and a pair of shorts. He looked like he’d just come from a workout and his hair was still wet from the shower he’d taken before coming over. “I hope you don’t mind. Gabe gave me your address.”

“No problem,” you told him through a shaky breath. “Come in. Come sit at the island.”

He removed his shoes and approached slowly, sending Mara one last smile as she crept off down the hall. You silently cursed her for leaving you with your shaking hands as you cleared the clutter from the countertop. You watched him as he settled into the stool across from you, mirroring the kind smile he was sharing with you.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? I have food, too, if you’re hungry.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. His voice was softer now than it had been before. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night. It won’t take long.”

“Oh?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your stomach dropped. You wanted to start apologizing right then. You didn’t have a reason to go and butt into his personal life like you had. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Guys like him didn’t care about your opinions. “I’m sorry for what I said. When I get drunk, I have the tendency to shoot off at the mouth.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. Your mouth snapped shut. “No one keeps me in check. All the guys think the fact that I can’t keep a girlfriend is a big joke because I’m so bad at dating. It shouldn’t be a joke. So, I’m sorry and thank you.”

You dropped your hands to the counter and leaned against it. The last thing you expected was for Nate to thank you, so you needed a moment to gather your thoughts. His eyes glistened as he watched you and then the corner of his lip quirked up because you started giggling.

“You should not be thanking me,” you said. With that simple statement, the tension in the air lifted. You turned your back on him, indicating that if the conversation must go on, you were going to be doing the dishes as well. “I was just being bitter the other night.”

“You had every right to be,” he said. “I was gloating.”

“You were kind of gloating,” you mumbled. You hadn’t meant for Nate to hear, and he knew that, but he laughed anyway. You turned to face him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he said. He didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point. It seemed like you’d apologize for taking up space and that made him feel a bit sad. He smiled politely at you anyway, to signal he wasn’t annoyed by the apologies, and it lit up his features in a way you hadn’t noticed the other night. “Anyway, I came here for a reason.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to teach me to be romantic.”

He delivered it tentatively, as though he was afraid of the way you might react. In the split second that followed, your mouth open and closed twice as every possible response came to your mind. He waited patiently.

Finally, “You don’t even know me. How can you be so sure that I’m the right person to teach you this stuff?”

“You’re a girl,” he explained, deadpan. “Girls know romance.” You snorted at how adorably dumb he was. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth in embarrassment and your cheeks burned as he grinned at you, amused by the sound of your laugh. “What do you say?”

---

Mondays were always your least favorite day of the week. Every weekend, your workload piled up and most Mondays you could hardly take a lunch break because you were so busy getting shit done. Whenever you came home from work on Mondays, you were wiped. Mara always made sure to have dinner ready for you when you got in, and the two of you often sat on the couch while eating those nights.

That Monday, you were sure that you’d be in bed before the Bachelor even started. But then Nate showed up unannounced. Mara was in the middle of washing the dishes this time, so you were the one to open the door. He greeted you with a goofy smile and a large electrical wire. Without a word, you stepped to the side and he was kicking off his shoes to enter the living room. Mara caught the roll of your eyes as you followed him.

He was standing beside the television when you entered the room. The wire he’d brought with him was connected to his cellphone while he found a port for the other end. You sat at the corner of sectional and waited, yawns escaping your mouth every minute or so. The day had been long enough already.

Suddenly, the television lit up with his cellphone background on full display. He held it up to show you, a grin present on his face.

“I need your help,” he began. He tapped one of the dating apps on his home screen and immediately you were regretting letting him in. You realized he wasn’t leaving any time soon as he unraveled the cord and plopped down beside you on the couch. Mara entered the room, eyes catching on the beautiful brunette woman on the screen, and then she gave Nate a curious look. “Come on, Mara. Join us.”

An amused smile came to her lips as she sat on the other end of the couch.

“I am not swiping for you,” you grunted, rubbing at your eyes. “I have no interest in judging girls off these apps.”

“Relax, YN,” he said. “I’m not asking you to play matchmaker. Just help me talk to this girl.”

“You need help talking to girls?” Mara asked as she gave him the once over. You laughed out loud while Nate blushed.

“I don’t need help,” he began. He turned his attention back to the television and pulled up the profile of a beautiful brunette woman. “I just don’t want to come on too strong, or douche-y. This girl is perfect and I wanna take her out.”

“Can you two make this quick?” Mara asked. “The Bachelor’s on tonight.”

“And my bed is calling my name.”

Nate peered at you over his shoulder. He smiled at your tired eyes, drooping as you leaned your head on your hand. He leaned back, stopping inches from your face and said, “I’ll make it quick.”

To your surprise, and Mara’s delight, he reached up and ran his hand over your hair before turning back to the television. He gave a rundown about the girl on the television, but his words went in one ear and out the other. Your glazed eyes watched as he typed out messages to her, and you laughed when Mara made fun of the way he was talking. (“Why the fuck are you talking like that? Are you her father?”) Finally, he turned on you.

“Are you gonna help or what, love doctor?”

“Give me the phone,” you said, extending your hand. He plopped it into your palm and watched you type out the message on the television screen. It took you less than a minute to type out a sweet message asking the girl out on a date before you were shoving the phone back into his hand. “You overthink too much.”

“That’s it?”

“Short and sweet,” you noted with a shrug. “I’d say yes.”

Nate’s eyes cut to you and you felt a chill run down your spine at the intensity behind them. Mara cleared her throat as you diverted your attention from him, shaking the feeling you got from his baby blues. She smiled sweetly at the two of you. “Can I detach your phone from our TV now? It’s almost time for Bach.”

You peeled yourself off the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash your face before changing into sweats and a t-shirt. You returned to the living room to find Nate with his feet up on the coffee table. Mara had tuned the television to ABC and the Bachelor recap was playing. He looked up as you entered and frowned.

“Stay out here a little bit longer,” he proposed, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “We’ll watch some of this and see if she says yes to the date.”

“Nate, I’m exhausted.”

“C’mon.”

You couldn’t say no, not when he was pouting like that. So, you rolled your eyes and walked around the couch to plop down in the spot you’d been before. Before long, your eyes were closing and you couldn’t keep them open any longer.

Nate didn’t realize you fell asleep, but he didn’t mind when you leaned against his arm as a pillow. He stiffened for a moment, unsure of what to do, but a soft snore escaped your lips and he found himself smiling down at your peaceful face. He didn’t move for the rest of the episode because he was too nervous to wake you. When the credits began to roll, he dropped a hand to your knee and shook you lightly.

Your eyes opened, bleary from sleep, and you found that you’d fallen asleep on him. You jerked away, realizing that it was probably too close for comfort, and smiled apologetically. He returned the smile before standing and gathering his things from the coffee table.

“Get some sleep,” he said on his way to the front door. You hummed in response, following him to the door to say a proper goodbye and lock up. He pulled you into a hug before going, shocking you once again by with how gentle he was despite hardly knowing you.

“Did she say yes?” you asked as he pulled away from the hug. “I almost forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, she did.”

---

Lesson #1: The First Date

In the chaos of the week that followed, you’d almost forgotten that you promised Nate your assistance before the date. You weren’t used to being accountable for someone else like you were now, so it wasn’t surprising.

“There is a man at reception asking for you.”

The office receptionist, Debby, was standing in the doorway with a giddy smile on her lips. You knew immediately from the look in her eye that the man at the front desk was going to be the talk of the office for a week.

You stood, following her out the door of your office and down the hall. As you rounded the corner to reception, you saw Nate leaning against the desk. He was sucking on a mint from the bowl in front of him and smiled wide when he saw you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have my date tonight, remember?” he asked. One glance at your watch told you that you worked a little too late. You cursed under your breath, turning quickly to head back to the office and send one last email. Nate hesitated, but ultimately decided to follow you down the hallway. He eyed the pencil skirt you were wearing, eyes lingering a little too long on your ass. He shook his head from his trance, knowing damn well that he was just asking for trouble.

Nate lingered in the doorway of your office for a moment before his eyes landed on a picture frame across the room that caught his attention. It was a marble frame without a photo like it had been removed and never replaced. He picked the frame up and turned it over in his hands, then turned to you.

“You need a picture.”

“What?” you asked, eyes still trained on the screen. They flickered up to see what he was talking about and then got right back to work. “Used to be a picture of me and my ex. Nobody’s important enough to put in.”

Nate placed the frame down. He felt a pang of sadness for you in that moment, but distracted himself by moving onto the next shelf and playing with some of the desk games on it. He was in the middle of fiddling with your Rubiks cube when you stood from the computer.

“You’re wearing that?” you asked. Nate winced at the question, glancing down at the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing. When he looked back up, you were wearing a shit eating grin. “I’m fucking with you.”

“Jesus, YN.” He clutched his heart and released a deep breath. You rounded the desk and grabbed your jacket from the hook. As you swung it over your shoulders, Nate stepped up to help. You slipped your arms through the arm holes trying to suppress the flair up of butterflies in your stomach.

When you reached the sidewalk outside the building, you led him down the block to a florist. Their window displays were your favorite in the city and you often found yourself going out of the way to peak at them on shitty days. You daydreamed about the day someone bought you a bouquet from there specifically.

The bell above the door rang as you stepped in. The smell of fresh flowers hit your nose and you sniffed it in happily. You grinned back at Nate and he felt a tug at his heart at your excitement.

“Can I help you?”

You bounded over to the woman behind the counter, Nate following behind you a little awkwardly. You gave him an expectant look and then his brain finally caught up with the question. As he leaned forward to look at the flowers in the case in front of you, his hand pressed against the small of your back.

“What would you get?” he asked curiously. You took a sharp intake of breath at the lack of space between you and pulled away to look at the flowers.

“Sunflowers and baby’s breath are my favorites.”

Nate smiled at the woman behind the counter and repeated what you’d just said, adding, “It’s for a first date, so I don’t need it too big or anything.”

You laughed at his explanation, and then the blush that come to his cheeks when he realized how silly he sounded. Neither of you noticed the confused look on the florist’s face. She was about to comment on how cute the two of you were, and in hindsight she was glad she kept her mouth shut. He reached out and squeezed your arm as a warning to stop teasing him. You stepped away completely, still smiling stupidly as he turned to pay.

“I’d’ve put roses in there too,” you told him once you were back on the sidewalk. “But this is only a first date. It might’ve been a little intense.”

“Roses?” he asked. You hummed in response, plucking the flowers out of his hand as you continued in the direction of the restaurant he was meeting his date at. “Good to know, you know, for the future.”

The walk to the date spot was only about ten minutes long and most of it was spent talking about your plans for the weekend as opposed to his date. He was going to be away with the team and you had plans to visit family. You kept thinking to yourself that you needed to stop getting distracted by him and his good looks and his sweet disposition. He was dating someone, and that person was not and would not be you, but he kept surprising you with the way he weaseled himself into your life.

“We’ll have to hang out next week sometime, then,” he said, snatching the flowers back out of your hand playfully. You nodded, but you were taken by surprise. It didn’t make sense that he’d want to hang around you without getting something out of it, whether it was dating advice or something more. Clearly, Nate didn’t care and you were beginning to wonder if maybe you’d get a beautiful friendship out of this nonsense.

“Any last-minute advice?”

“Don’t say anything dumb,” you said to him, emboldened by the realization that you might actually be friends now. Nate laughed out loud. “You think I’m just being funny, but sometimes you say stupid shit.”

“Jeeze,” he muttered. “Way to fuck up my self-esteem right before a date.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes and came to a stop just before the crosswalk he’d be using. He slowed to a stop as well, the bouquet of flowers falling to his side as he looked down at you. You reached out to right them with an amused smile. “Careful with these.”

“Got it, boss.”

You stalled a moment more, gazing at the flowers. You almost felt jealous of the girl going to dinner with Nate because those flowers would look perfect in a vase on your dining room table. “God, I really hope she appreciates those.”

The tone of your voice took Nate by surprise. It sounded a little sad, and full of yearning, and he felt kind of bad that he’d be walking away with the flowers you’d been admiring the entire walk from the florist. Even so, you said your goodbyes and he watched you turn on your heel to head home. He felt stuck in place, eyes trained on your retreating frame while his feet were cemented to the sidewalk. Before he could second guess himself, and his motives, he called out your name.

“Wait, YN!” When you turned, he was halfway down the sidewalk to you and, once he was within arm’s length, he plucked a sunflower from the bouquet and extended it. “For you.” Your cheeks felt red hot as your fingers curled around the stem. You hoped he couldn’t notice a blush. If he did, he didn’t make it known and left with a simple, “I’ll talk to you later.”

A stupid smile sat on your lips the entire way home. You felt the thumping of your heart long after you’d entered your place and placed the flower in the dining table vase. No matter what you found yourself doing that night, Nate remained at the back of your mind. You swore to yourself that it was because you wondered how his date was going, nothing more. But, when your eyes kept finding their way to the sunflower on the dining room table, you worried that maybe the reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him was something more.

---

You grabbed dinner with Mel the next Tuesday. Because of your trip to visit family, the two of you agreed to take a week off and reschedule some sort of get together for Tuesday. Gabe was home so he’d be with Linnea, and you were just happy that it wasn’t Monday. She was in the middle of a story when your phone lit up beside you; Nate’s name was on full display.

When’s our next lesson?

You snatched the phone off the table and away from Mel’s prying eyes, hoping that it wouldn’t peak her curiosity. The movement itself was enough to stir her, though, and Mel was soon leaning forward to see what was going on. She reached out and pushed the phone down, craning her neck to read the text.

“Next lesson?” she asked, eyebrow quirking. “Who is this?”

“It’s Nate MacKinnon.”

You said it so quickly and so nonchalant that Mel actually continued picking at her brunch before she reacted. Her fork clattered to the plate. “Did you just say Nate MacKinnon?”

“This,” you began gesturing at her wild eyes and wicked smile, “is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Why?” she asked, feigning innocence. “Because I’m totally going to take this and run with it?” You dropped your face in your hands. “You should go for it. He’s a little dumb, but mostly cute. You definitely have the patience to deal with him though.”

“Mel, it’s not like that at all,” you told her. “I’m helping him learn how to be more romantic.” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline in shock. “I’m serious. You know just as well as I do that he’s bad dating. He asked for my help after we met. I have enough experience with douchebags to tell him what not to do.”

“You sure do,” Mel agreed. You laughed at her response and an easy smile spread across her face. “Maybe teaching him a thing or two about how to be romantic will remind you of what you deserve.”

You sighed, picking up the coffee in front of you to take a sip. Mel knew better than anyone, besides Mara, how shitty the guys in your life had been. She met your ex last year just before your break up and she hated him from the moment you introduced the two. He never deserved you and her heart broke the longer you spent wasting your time on him. When you finally ended it, she was your biggest supporter.

You left the message unanswered, not wanting to give her anymore ammo in what was sure to be her new mission. When she got up to head to the bathroom before the check came, you opened the message from him. The last conversation was from Saturday night and he was letting you know that the girl he’d gone out with was looking forward to their next date.

What do you need help with now?

Do you know how to cook?

---

Lesson #2: A Homemade Meal

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to cook,” you grunted as soon as Nate pulled his apartment door open on Friday night. The grin on his face was anything but apologetic and you pushed past him with two large grocery bags in hand. You brought them to the kitchen and began unpacking them onto the counter.

“I do know how to cook, by the way,” he said, stepping up beside you to help you remove everything from the bags. You eyed him skeptically. “Mostly just the basic meats and vegetables.”

“You can’t cook a date your pregame meal.”

Nate knew that. He wasn’t that stupid, but he did love saying stupid shit around you. You tended to roll your eyes at him, but your lips always gave away how you really felt about his stupidity. The right side always curled up into a smirk, like you were trying to fight the laughter bubbling in your chest. He loved it when you did that.

“Is this, like, a meal your ex used to make?” he asked after grabbing some spices from the cabinet. You were grateful that his back was turned because the easy smile on your lips disappeared at the reminder of him. You busied yourself with the pot of water on the stove and set it to boil.

“No, my ex never actually made dinner for me,” you answered in a poor attempt to keep your voice steady.

Nate stopped prepping the meat and turned to face you. Questions sat on the tip of his tongue, begging for him to ask, but you wouldn’t look at him. He felt a little bit angry at your confession, though he couldn’t quite place why. Admittedly, he had been that boyfriend before – the one that didn’t cook dinner. Now, he was mad at himself for ever being that guy.

When you didn’t turn to look at him, he dropped the subject. You worked in silence, you busy with the pasta and him with the chicken. As you waited for the food to be ready, you hiked yourself up onto the counter. Nate grabbed a bottle of red wine from the end of the counter and poured glasses for the both of you.

He stood across from you with a dish towel over his shoulder and his own glass of wine in his palm. He asked about work and you filled him in on all the hot office gossip. The smile on his face didn’t fall once as he listened to your stories, and he never tried to change the subject or take over the conversation for himself. After a while, you stopped.

“I’ve been talking forever.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been enjoying it,” he told you. You laughed. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall in your office.”

Feeling a bit bolder, you kicked your foot out and nudged his side. “Maybe I can take you to bring your pet to work day.”

Nate’s jaw dropped, a reaction you weren’t expecting, and you began laughing hysterically at his surprise. He placed his wine glass down beside him and took a step closer, wrapping a hand around your ankle to tug you closer to the edge of the counter. You yelped in surprise.

“Pet?” he asked. You wiggled your foot out of his grasp, giggles falling from your lips as he dropped his hand to his side. The oven started beeping, interrupting whatever moment you were having before it could continue. “Saved by the bell.”

“Looks good, Nate,” you praised as he pulled it out of the oven. “My mouth is watering.”

“Go sit down,” he ordered. “You have to evaluate my presentation and make sure I look good.”

Nate entered shortly after you sat down and placed the plates on either side of the table with a smile. He slipped back out and returned with the wine. There was mischievous glint in his eyes as he topped your glass off and added to his.

“How is it?” he asked, leaning back. A look of cockiness flashed over his features and you felt it in your stomach when you looked at the way his arms were crossed and his biceps filled out the sleeves of his t-shirt. You picked up your utensils and cut into the meal, picking up a bit of each piece before putting it in your mouth.

Nate leaned forward eagerly. He watched your eyes light up when the flavor hit your tongue and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You nodded emphatically as you swallowed your first forkful. He cut into his own meal and the moment he took a bite, he moaned. The meal was so good that conversation was sparse and, by the end, it looked like your plates had been licked clean.

You didn’t stop Nate from filling your glasses again, though you figured you should have. The third glass always lowered your inhibitions.

“How pissed off would you be if I asked you about your ex?”

“Not pissed off,” you answered. You took a sip of the wine, then leaned your cheek in your palm as you spoke. “What do you want to know?”

Nate sat up at this, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t prepared himself with a question because he didn’t think you’d give him the go ahead. He let out a tuft of breath, took a sip from his glass, and thought. Finally, he asked, “Why’d you break up?”

“How long do you have?”

“As long as you need,” he answered. His voice was soft, comforting, and you felt yourself relax into the question.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to break up with him,” you began. “And, if I didn’t have friends like Mel and Mara, I might still be with him. Things have changed now, though. I realize what a crap human being he was but, if I stayed with him, I don’t think I would’ve realized how much better I deserved.”

“Did you fight a lot?”

“Do I seem like the fighting type?” you teased. He shook his head. “He did enough fighting for the both of us. He would yell at me for no reason sometimes, just because he felt like it.”

Nate was angry. His features were contorted in distaste as you told him about your ex. Even though you tried to make light of the situation with a few light-hearted jokes, Nate couldn’t find it within in him to react with laughter. You deserved so much better than what you’d been given.

“When I broke up with him, Mara was there. We packed my things and moved it all out. I was going to leave a note, but he came home from work early and caused a scene. He went out the night after and sent me all these videos and pictures of him out with his friends. They were flipping me off, girls were draped all over him, etcetera. I blocked him the next morning and I haven’t seen him since. That was over a year ago.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his head in his hands. He felt ashamed. “That’s why you yelled at me.”

“Yep,” you answered. “Emotions got the best of me.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Silence filled the room and you felt vulnerable. You didn’t share the story about your tumultuous relationship often, but with Nate it just slipped out. You grabbed your glass from the table and finished it off.

“I’m not staying for another,” you announced. Nate sat back, his face flashing with an offended expression. As you gathered the plates from the table, you tried to ignore the knots in your stomach that were becoming more and more prevalent when he was around. “Nothing good ever happens after the third glass. But, if I was your real date, I would definitely stay for a fourth and you would probably get to kiss me at the end of the night simply for how good that meal was.”

The words fell from your lips so easily that it shocked you and you hoped that the playful tone of your voice wouldn’t scare him off. You gathered yourself before turning back to look at him. He was still sitting at the table, chair pushed back with one arm over the back of it. The way he was looking at you was lethal, eyes drinking you in as you stood in his kitchen. You couldn’t tell if you were imagining the tension or it was real.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said finally. You grabbed your bag from the counter and pulled it over your shoulder as you headed for the door. Nate stood then to walk you out, pulling the door open as you slipped into your sneakers. “It was delicious.”

“Thank you for teaching me how to cook something actually good,” he said. “Poor girl would’ve been eating chicken and vegetables or pasta if you hadn’t come by.”

“Can’t let that happen, can we?” you asked. “Let me know how dinner goes.”

Nate leaned down, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you into a warm embrace. You melted into his arms as yours came up and around his neck. For a moment, the two of you just stood there in each other’s arms. You wondered if he could feel the beat of your chest again him. It sped up as his hands flattened against your back, crossing over each other to engulf you completely.

“I’m not that kind of guy,” he said. He leaned his cheek on the top of your head and his chest rumbled beneath your own cheek as he spoke. “You know that, right?”

Your blinked away tears before he couldn’t notice then and nodded in response to his question.

When he pulled back, he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek and his lips caught the corner of your mouth. An electric shock coursed through your bloodstream and you pulled back quick before offering one last smile and tossing a goodbye over your shoulder.

---

Nate called you the next Friday night with plans for Saturday.

“Mel and Gabe invited a bunch of the guys over and she told me I should see what you were doing tomorrow.” he said. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you much since last week. The guys would love to meet you.”

“Meet me?” you asked. “So, it’ll be more than just the ones I know?”

“A few more,” he answered with a laugh. “They’ll love you, okay? I’ll be at your place to get you at 5:30.”

It was the first time you were going to see him since you made dinner together last Friday. You exchanged a few texts throughout the week, but nothing of substance. You knew his dinner date went well, though you didn’t know to what extent. You found yourself wondering if she stayed for that additional glass of wine after dinner, or if she stayed for the night after.

He showed up to your apartment wearing a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. You welcomed him in while you went back to your room to get your heels on. He gaped at the dress you were wearing as soon as you had your back to him. His eyes wandered over your curves as you bent to grab your heels from the floor in your bedroom. When your dress slid up your thighs, he had to force himself to look away.

You tried to get more details about his dinner date out of him on the way to Mel’s, but he kept quiet. She liked dinner, she stayed for an extra glass of wine, and then she went home at the end of the night. An invisible weight lifted from your shoulders upon hearing she didn’t stay the night and you settled back into his passenger seat.

Nate noticed the way you relaxed into the seat and tore his eyes from the road for just a moment to sneak a peek at you. You were watching the world go by from the window, unaware that he was even looking at you. When he turned his attention back to the road, all he could think about was his sweaty palms and accelerated heartrate. Why did he care so much about what you thought?

Everyone was already at the house when you pulled up. The two of you walked up the driveway, his hand against your lower back much like it had been in the florist. Mel opened the door, lunging to sweep you into her arms and whisk you to the kitchen, her husband and your, well, Nate left behind.

“Thanks for having me, Mel.”

She handed you a drink complete with a salted rim and said, “I’m glad Nate asked if you could come.”

“Nate asked?” you repeated. She affirmed with a nod and ushered you to join the others in the living room while she and Gabe finished dinner.

You swore half the team was there, which meant not one seat was open on their couch. As you passed Nate, he grabbed your hand and sat you on the arm of his chair. He pulled your legs over his lap and began introducing you to the boys you didn’t already know.

You caught Cale’s eyes and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Out of everyone in the room, he was the only one making note of the lack of space between you two. Though you weren’t technically sitting in his lap, it still felt a little inappropriate. Nate’s hand was like fire where it rested against your thigh and you had to remind yourself to stop peeking at the placement.

Nate lied about your invitation to dinner, and for what? He could’ve just invited you himself instead of disguising it as a joint decision between him and Mel. What was he so afraid of that he couldn’t man up and admit he wanted you there? Better yet, why didn’t he ask Gianna?

You somehow ended up seated away from Nate at the dinner table. Cale settled in on one side of you and EJ occupied the other. Across from you sat JT and Tyson, bickering as always. You don’t know how you ended up separated from Nate, but you welcomed it because you needed the breathing room.

The meal was delicious, but Nate couldn’t even enjoy it because you were so far away. He was going to get fucking whiplash because of the way he kept looking back to see who you were talking to or hear what you were laughing at. How did he even end up this far down from you?

On the other hand, he couldn’t stop the smile that kept creeping up to his lips when he saw you with his teammates. They loved you, probably almost as much as he did, and he was proud to have you by his side that night. But then came the harsh reality that you weren’t actually his to show off.

When the party relocated, he made sure to slide up next to you on the way to the couch. EJ’s laughter mocked him, but you didn’t catch on to his teammate’s playful ribbing. With Gabe and Mel’s eyes in the room, he didn’t pull you over his lap and opted to lower his arm over the back of the couch instead. There were just inches between your skin and his but, after having you on his lap earlier, it felt like miles.

Drinking games were played, stories were shared, and you all left the house with full bellies and large smiles. Nate was driving, so he eased up on the drinks after dinner. You, on the other hand, were feeling just as free as you did after three glasses of wine at his place last week, and feeling daring enough to ask him the question that’s been on your mind all night.

“Why did you tell me that Mel asked you to invite me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“When you invited me, you said that Mel told you to,” you explained in a slow voice as if you were breaking the situation down to a child. “But she said that you asked if you could invite me.”

“Why does it matter where the invite actually came from?” he asked. A slight panic was rising in his chest because he didn’t have an answer for you. This wasn’t supposed to come back around to you. “Everybody wanted you here anyway.”

“Why didn’t you ask Gianna?” you asked, stepping down to join him on the path to the driveway. He rolled his eyes at this, and you noted it because though you’d done it to him many times, he’d never done it to you. He began walking, so you followed. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Because I didn’t want to introduce her to everyone yet,” he answered. “You just fit in with us.”

Nate saw your face fall and decided not to push the conversation any farther. He said something wrong, but he didn’t know what. As far as he thought, he was complimenting you. He was complimenting how easy going you were, how his friends got along with you so easily. You were already a part of the group. It was great.

You continued along to the car in silence, not bothering to argue with him over a dumb comment. He wanted friends, so you were giving him friends, but the touches and the invite to team dinner was something more than friends. You needed distance. And he needed to figure his shit out, fast.

---

Lesson #3: Meeting the Friends

Something changed. When Nate dropped you off that night, he left you with a half-assed hug and a quiet goodbye. You couldn’t catch a wink of sleep that night because something changed. But then, Nate texted you tomorrow and tried to carry on as normal. Things weren’t normal.

And you knew that for sure when Nate didn’t invite you to EJ’s house the next weekend. Mel invited you instead and since you could never say no to Mel, you went. The thought of texting Nate to let him know passed briefly through your head, but the sheer fact that he hadn’t even bothered to talk to you about it in the first place was enough to decide against it.

When you entered EJ’s living room, you knew exactly why he hadn’t asked. Gianna was sitting on his lap, fingers curling through his hair as they talked. Anger rose in you no matter how hard you tried to suppress it. Just last week he said he didn’t want to bring her around and now she was here? Now she was here and he couldn’t even talk to you?

There was an uproar as Nate’s teammates noticed you standing in the doorway and Nate’s eyes cut to you in surprise. You lifted your hand in a pathetic wave before Cale was wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you to the kitchen.

“Who’s the girl with Nate?”

“His new girlfriend,” you answered, hoping that you didn’t sound bitter. “I don’t even know if that’s the right title for her, but they’ve been on a few dates.”

Cale let out a soft hum, his tone indecipherable, just as Tyson entered the room.

“What’s the deal with Nate’s new girl?” he asked as soon as he saw it was just you and Cale in the room. When you didn’t answer, he nudged you for an answer.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, she’s no you.”

---

Nate couldn’t help but ask himself, “What the fuck are you doing?”

As you were pulled into his teammates arms, he watched and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up and hug you too or if he just wanted to disappear. When Gianna’s fingers gripped his bicep, he decided he wanted the latter.

That’s when you looked at him, of course, and the smile that was on yours lips faded just a bit. At least, that’s what he thought. You lifted your hand in a wave before Cale was looping his arm around your shoulders and directing you towards the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Gianna asked, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He looked up at her with a simple answer. “One of our friends.”

Gianna kissed him and for the first time since he met you, Nate thought about what it would be like to kiss you instead. He brought her to EJ’s in a pathetic attempt to right the way he was feeling about you, but it only made it worse.

---

“Nate was weird last night,” Mel murmured after Cycle the next morning. You were waiting for her to say something. Since all the guys made comments the night before, you knew Mel was next. “Did you guys fight?”

“Fight? Me and Nate?” you repeated, stalling for time. “We didn’t fight.”

“What did you think of his girlfriend?”

“I actually didn’t get to talk to her,” you answered. You shrugged, giving the illusion that you didn’t care all that much even though you were fuming. After all the help you’d given him, he couldn’t be bothered to introduce you to her? And that wasn’t all. He hardly spoke to you all night, only entertaining conversations with you when someone else was around. You ended up spending most of the night with EJ.

“My sitter just bailed for tomorrow.” She’d been tapping away at her phone for a few minutes, no doubt panicking to Gabe. You watched her a moment longer as you wondered what her plans were for the next day. Then, it occurred to you.

“There’s a game tomorrow, right?” you asked. She nodded, still typing out messages to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “I can watch Linnea tomorrow. Don’t worry about finding a sitter.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” She waved you off absentmindedly and continued talking, “Besides, I thought Nate had a ticket for you or something. Didn’t he ask you to go?”

“Tomorrow?” you said incredulously. “No, absolutely not. Isn’t it like a WAG game? It would make no sense for me to be there.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “I just thought that he told Gabe,” she paused and noticed your set jaw. You were clearly not Nate’s biggest fan at the moment, so she decided to tread carefully. “You know what? Nevermind. I would love it if you could watch Linnea.”

---

As expected, Linnea was an angel the next day. You spent the time lounging in their living room with the game on TV while you played together. She took a bottle in the middle of the game and you brought her to her nursery once she’d been burped to rock her to sleep. But, you couldn’t quite peel yourself from the chair to put her in her crib. She was sleeping so peacefully and for the first time in a while you felt calm, so you stayed with her in your arms long after she’d fallen asleep.

You didn’t know what time it was when Gabe and Mel got home, but you heard their car doors close. You waited for them to happen upon you in the nursery, so you were surprised when it was Nate that knocked at the door.

“Hi,” he whispered, stepping into the room. He studied the decorations as he approached the rocking chair you were sitting in. When he stepped up beside you and admired Linnea, you tried not to look up at him. You knew it wouldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach, but you did it anyway. He was smiling down at the peanut in your arms. “Mel and Gabe are in the kitchen. They saw you on the baby monitor and told me to come get you.”

“Okay, I’ll put her down and meet you in there.”

“I can wait for you,” he said, stepping away. You stood, cradling Linnea to the crib and then craning to put her down in the center. Nate was watching you intently from the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.

He stepped out into the hallway first, but he wasn’t walking towards the kitchen. He stood, waiting for you to stepped out into the hallway and look at him. You gave him a half-assed smile, still feeling a little hurt that things had been so weird between you two, and he asked, “Are we okay?”

“We’re fine,” you answered. He wasn’t convinced, but you reached up and shoved him lightly to get him to move down the hall. He didn’t budge, hand coming up to grasp yours against his chest. The beating of his heart sat right at your fingertips. “How was your game?”

“It was good,” he answered. “I wish you were there.”

“Well, then, you should’ve asked me to come,” you said, quite boldly. His lips parted, but whether it was to speak or not you wouldn’t know because you were continuing down the hallway without him.

You slipped into the kitchen to find Mel, leaving the men on the couch in the living room. The moment you stepped in, she was turning to greet you with a smile. You hissed, “Are you behind this?”

“I mentioned you were babysitting, his eyes lit up, and Gabe was the one to invite him over.”

“Team effort?”

She feigned an apologetic smile before ushering you out to rejoin the boys. Gabe got the fire going and Mel curled in his chest once he settled back on the couch. You sat on the other end, legs extended towards Nate in the corner. You felt his eyes whenever there was a suspended silence. You knew he was thinking about you, and selfishly you relished in the attention.

“YN, did you know that Nate’s parents were visiting next weekend?” Gabe asked during a lull in conversation. Nate glared at him, but the Swede happily ignored his buddy at the center of the couch. His eyes cut to you.

“I didn’t,” you answered. “But that’ll be fun. I know how much you missed them.”

All he could offer was a stupid ‘yeah’ before Mel swooped in to save the entire group from a very awkward moment.

Nate was going to kill Gabe. He was going to kill Gabe, but first he had to make a decision. He knew exactly what he had to do. It felt like you were a thousand miles away, not only physically but emotionally. Gabe should’ve kept his mouth shut. He was going to have you meet his parents, he just hadn’t gotten the chance to ask. Now, he looked like a dick. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I was going to tell you about my parents,” he said, practically chasing you down the driveway after you ducked out while he was in the bathroom. To his surprise, you stopped walking and waited for him to catch up. “Seriously.”

“It’s getting hard to believe that, Nate,” you said. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head.”

Nate felt his heart sink. He began to rack his brain for a way to salvage the conversation, but it was too late by the time you reached your car. You stopped before opening the door to look up at him.

“You’re thinking too much.”

“I just—I know you’re upset with me,” he began. “I want to make it better. We haven’t really talked since EJ’s, and that’s on me.”

“Were you going to invite me today?” you asked. He gave you a curious look. “To the game. Mel mentioned something about it at Cycle. That you told Gabe you were thinking about giving your ticket to me.”

Nate ran his hand over his face. The Landeskogs had really gotten him into some trouble here, and he wasn’t sure it was accidental.

“You’re the one I wanted at the game,” he admitted. “I wanted to invite you, but I knew how bad it would look if I didn’t ask Gianna.”

“So, you invited her,” you concluded.

“No.”

You looked at him in shock, mouth agape, and asked, “You’d rather no one go than give the ticket to her?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” he grumbled. You threw your arms up in surrender, hoping the words would sink in. “I don’t know, YN.”

“Yes, you do,” you argued. He kept his mouth shut at that, knowing you had enough. You sighed heavily, allowing the conversation to roll off your back. “When are your parents going to be here?”

“Saturday morning.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“They’ll be at my game in the afternoon and then I was getting us a reservation for dinner,” he trailed off only momentarily. “I haven’t made it yet because I was going to invite you, but Gabe beat me to the punch in there.”

“What about Gianna?”

“YN, if I didn’t want her at my game, why would I want her to meet my parents?” he asked. He made it sound like you were asking the stupidest question in the world. But, he wasn’t answering the most important one. Was he breaking up with her? You wanted to ask, but part of you didn’t want the disappointment. He worried while you thought.

“I’m around on Saturday,” you answered. He smiled, and you forced one back. You hated the feeling between you two. The air between you had never been so stuffy and you wanted to clear it. “Anything else you wanna tell me before the Landeskogs do? Is Sid actually your long-distance girlfriend?”

Nate laughed loudly as he stepped away. He answered your question cryptically, “No, nothing to tell you right now. Not yet.”

---

Lesson #4: Meeting the Family

You planned to meet Nate at his apartment before dinner since his parents had gone to the hotel upon arrival. On the way, you picked up a box of pastries from your favorite bakery. You were taught to do little things for important people, and anyone who was important to Nate felt important to you. You tried not to think about the implications of having dinner with his parents, but it was hard to shake the nerves.

“What’s this?” he asked as soon as he opened the door. His finger slid over the logo on the top of the pastry box, eyes catching on the word bakery. When he looked up at you, his eyes were shining. “For me?”

“For your family,” you told him. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I thought maybe you heard about my break up and you were trying to comfort me,” he said like it wasn’t breaking news. “I’ll put these in the kitchen.”

“You broke up?” you asked, following him to the kitchen. You stopped in the doorway as he put the pastries on the counter. He nodded simply as he cleared some clutter from the countertop. You could see his muscles moving beneath his navy polo. Guiltily, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the way the sleeves hugged his biceps or the wide expanse of his back and shoulders. “What happened, Nate?”

“We can talk about it later, alright?”

“Are you single or not?” you asked. Nate caught the frustration in your tone and he’d be lying if it didn’t make him want to kiss you right then. You needed to know what was going on with him, and that made him feel good about whatever was going on between you two.

Nate started to exit the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway beside you. You were crowded against his chest as he smiled down at you and answered, “Yeah, I’m single.”

You released a breath once he stepped out of the doorway. He slipped his shoes on while you stood nearly the front door. He caught the look on your face, a little scrunched up as you spaced out. You were thinking too much, worrying about what happened with him and Gianna. When he walked back over to the front door, he took you by the hips and said, “We can talk about it later, if you want. Right now, I just want to be with you and my family.”

---

“I’m nervous,” you admitted as Nate pulled up to valet outside the restaurant. He looked at you in shock. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he promised. He reached over and dropped his hand to your thigh. You pouted at him, and his first instinct was to lean over the center console and kiss it off your lips. He knew better than to risk it all just before dinner, so he grabbed your hand and dropped a kiss to your palm instead. “You’ll be fine. No need to be nervous.”

A heavy sigh left your lips as he stepped out of the car. He rounded the front and opened the passenger door for you, grabbing your hand as you stepped out. After he handed his key to the valet, he laced his hands in yours and led you into the restaurant.

The MacKinnons were already at the table that had been reserved for them. There was uproar of cheers when they saw Nate walk in. You stole a peek at his face and the pure joy on it set your heart aflame. He dropped your hand as you approached the table to hug his parents and sister. They introduced themselves to you as well, sweeping you up in tight embraces like they had with Nate.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” they spoke as they hugged you.

Nate pulled your chair out from across his mother and then situated himself beside you. The menus were passed out and Nate whispered suggestions in your ear while his family members debated their own meals. She took the time to calm her nervous. Parents loved her, so there was no reason to freak out. Eventually the drinks were handed out, orders were taken, and the chaos at the table stopped.

“Now, how’d you two meet again?” his mom asked. You looked at each other, stupidly, both stammering in response until Nate got his shit together.

“We met through friends,” he answered simply. Then, his lips curled up and he said, “She yelled at me.” You dropped your face into your hands, embarrassed by the picture he was painting of you, but they took it in stride, laughing at your expression. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He continued, “As you guys know, I’ve been very unlucky in my personal life.” Sarah snorted at this. Their mother smacked her knee as a scolding. “I literally suck at being romantic and all the guys were joking around about it after I’d just been broken up with. YN called me out, so I asked her to teach me how to be romantic.”

“Well, what’d you learn?”

“How to cook a meal other than my pregame types, and I also have a new favorite florist,” he said. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and flipped it open to slip out their business card. You didn’t realize he grabbed one. “There are some other things, like her wine rule.”

“Wine rule?”

“Nothing good ever happens after the third glass of wine,” you explained. They laughed at that, though they seemed bewildered by your reasoning.

Nate elaborated, “It just means that if your date stays for a fourth glass, you’ll probably get lucky.”

This earned him a smack on the arm from both his sister and yourself.

Nate’s family was just as kind as he was and it was clear how much they all adored each other. You fit in seamlessly, at least that’s how it felt, and when they asked the waitress to take a picture of them, Nate tugged you into his side to keep you in the frame.

“Take one without me,” you urged him. He just shook his head, gazing down at the picture on his phone. He passed it off to his parents and sister for approval. “Nate.”

“I want you in the picture,” he whispered to you. His hand came up to the back of your neck and he pulled you in to place a chaste kiss to your temple. He pulled away, like kissing you in public and on the forehead was normal now, and asked, “How was your food?”

When you got back to his place after dinner, you presented his mother with the pastries and earned a hug and kiss on the cheek as a thank you. They settled into the kitchen as he made drinks, chatting as a family about the people back home and his life in Denver. You slipped out to go to the bathroom, and give them some alone time.

“I like her,” you overheard his mother say as soon as you slipped out of the kitchen. You slowed your steps on your pursuit to the bathroom even though you knew it would be best to keep walking. You couldn’t help but be a little nosy.

“That’s good to hear,” Nate said. You smiled to yourself. “I like her, too.”

---

Nate’s family only stayed for another hour before you were bidding them farewell from his front door. They squeezed you and thanked you for the pastries, and then began inviting you to visit before Nate had to shut it down. Your heart felt full after spending the night with them, but sitting alone in Nate’s apartment in anticipation of what was to come was scaring the shit out of you.

Your hands were a little shaky and your palms were definitely sweaty. There was change coming, change that was already present, and you were both excited and terrified for it. Nate reentered the apartment not long after. When he saw you sitting on the couch, he released a breath he’d been holding.

“Are you going to stay for another glass?” he asked after locking the door behind him. “That one’s only your second.”

You eyed his smile, heart beat stuttering a bit beneath his gaze, and lifted the glass to your lips to finished what was left. You nodded and followed him into the kitchen. While he filled both your glass and his, you picked yourself up onto the counter like you’d done so many times before.

“I did a bad thing,” he murmured after handing your glass back to you. You raised a brow at him as he reached over to one of the cabinets and opened it to reveal two pastries in a Ziploc bag. “I stole two of them from my mom.”

“Nate!” you exclaimed. He chuckled at your exasperation. “I can bring you to that bakery whenever you want! Your parents don’t live here! It was a gift!”

“And they have the other eleven pastries,” he argued. “They’re not going to miss two.”

Reluctantly, but still with a smile, you took a pastry from his hand. You bit into it at the same time, eyes lighting up at the taste. At the sight of each other’s faces, you were doubled over in laughter before you had the chance to swallow what was in your mouth. You looked away from him to regain composure and only looked back when you were sure you wouldn’t choke.

“Those were fucking good.”

“Only the best for your mom.”

“Thank you,” he spoke. “For the pastries and for hanging out with my family today. I’m sure you had other things to do, but it meant a lot. They’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

“I had a lot of fun with them,” you said. His smile was soft, shy even, and he watched you carefully as you sipped from the glass in your hand. “It was nice to meet the people who made you who you are.”

“Wait until you meet Sid.”

You decided to move from the kitchen to the living room in favor of more comfortable seating. He reached his hand out behind his back, and you linked your fingers with his lazily so he could lead you to the couch. You slowed to a stop as he sat down, legs spread to pull you between them. Your hesitation caused a look of confusion to flash over his features.

“Can you tell me what’s going on inside your head now?” you asked, placing your glass down on the table beside the arm of the couch. He followed suit, then placed his hand delicately at your hip to urge you closer.

“Sure, I can,” he answered. He pulled you into his lap. You looped her arms around his shoulders as he flattened one hand against your back and curled the other around your thigh. “I don’t want to waste those romance rules on someone I don’t really like all that much.”

“You really didn’t like her?” you asked meekly. Of fucking course he didn’t like her, you were thinking. You were in his lap, not her, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Why?”

“The only reason I looked forward to going on dates with her was because I got to spend time with you before,” he confessed. You felt it all through your body. “I broke up with her the morning after we were at Gabe’s together. After you called me out on my bullshit, I knew I was being stupid.”

“Why me, though?”

“Because you deserve the world and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

It was only natural for you to lean in and capture his lips with yours. After all this time spent waiting and beating around the bush, you didn’t want to wait a second more. It was passionate, and new, and exciting. His hands held you close while your fingers curled into the back of his hair, but he wasn’t close enough.

You swung your leg over to straddle him, not caring that you were wearing a dress with just panties underneath. His hands flew to your hips as you grinded against him. You gasped against his lips at the friction as he held you tighter, teeth nipping at your bottom lip until you covered his mouth with yours again. He guided your hips to grind against him once more, but you braced your hands against his chest to push away.

“I’m not staying for a fourth glass,” you said breathlessly. He smiled up at you, eyes falling to your lips that were red and plump from kissing him. Kissing him! He leaned in, tongue swiping along his bottom lip, and pulled you down by the back of the neck.

He murmured through his kisses, “You didn’t even finish your third.”

At the challenge in his voice, you reached over for the glass on the side table and finished what was left. He held you close, laughing against the crook of your neck. You giggled along with him until you felt his lips against your skin again and a gasp fell from your lips.

“You gotta leave before I pour number four,” he warned, breath ghosting over your neck. He kissed your neck again, this time sucking lightly enough to earn a strangled moan. You pushed back against his chest and stood, flustered as you adjusted your dress and your hair. Nate couldn’t help but smile as he watched you cross the room for your purse. He grabbed a pillow and held it over his lap to hide his hard-on.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked as you put your heels on the end of the couch. He was admiring your flushed cheeks and your wild hair as you busied yourself. You fastened the strap on each heel before looking back at him. It took everything in you to not go back over there and unbutton the rest of his shirt.

“Nothing,” you answered as you stood. He followed suit, adjusting his dress pants just a bit so he was comfortable and making you giggle in the process. He stepped up beside you and pulled you against him again. He placed one, two, three kisses against your neck then your jaw then your lips.

“Let me make you dinner.”

---

Nate wasn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself. He knew that the second you walked out of your room in that little black dress, but he was really trying to be on his best behavior. It was technically only your first date and he wanted to impress you. You just weren’t helping very much. As soon as you were in his car, you were grabbing his hand and lacing it with yours to drop them into your lap.

He was a little nervous that he wasn’t going to be able to pull this off. He was sure that he’d fuck up somewhere and you’d go running. And, truthfully, you could tell that he was overthinking every little thing he did. The tension in his shoulders as he moved about the kitchen to prepare everything for dinner was clear.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked.

He gave you the most pathetic shrug and shake of the head as he tried to wave off your concern with a soft, “Nothing.”

“That’s a lie,” you called him out. “You look stressed.”

“I mean, I am a little stressed,” he admitted, diverting his eyes from yours as he headed over to the fridge. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Before he knew it, you were standing between him and the refrigerator. You flattened your hands against his chest and slid them up until your hands were linked behind his neck. A slight tug on him was enough to get him to kiss you. He finally relaxed, arms dropping from the refrigerator door to grip your hips.

“You’re not going to fuck this up.”

“I don’t have a very good track record.”

“You do with me,” you said softly. He looked skeptical, not quite understanding what you meant, so you pressed against him as his arms enveloped you. “You gave me a sunflower the third time we were ever around each other. You’ve cooked me dinner already. Sure, it was under different circumstances, but it counts. Nate, you know exactly what you’re doing. Don’t overthink it.”

“Go sit,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You managed to calm his nerves better than anyone he’d ever known in a matter of seconds. “I’ll plate dinner and then I have to grab something for you, okay?”

Nate entered the dining room a minute later, placing both plates down across from each other before disappearing to grab wine glasses and another bottle of wine. Then, he was off down the hall to his bedroom. Your eyes followed him curiously, wondering what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He’d already impressed you enough by cooking a meal you didn’t teach him.

“Oh, wow,” you breathed out when he appeared in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers. “Nate.”

“For you.”

You stood to take them from his hands and kiss him in thanks. When you pulled away, your fingers danced along the petals of the roses tucked between the sunflowers and baby’s breath Nate had grown to love too.

---

You filled your glass for a fourth time as inconspicuously as possible after your last bite of dinner, but Nate caught your eye over the bottle as you poured and you knew he knew what you were doing. He tried to stifle his smile unsuccessfully, picking up his own glass to cover it. One sip and his third glass was done.

“More?” you asked, extending the bottle in his direction.

“Four glasses?” he teased. “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, more for me then.”

Your voice was low, eyes dark as they settled on him, and suddenly he was lunging forward to grab the bottle and pour another glass for himself. Your giggles filled the room. He wanted them to echo off his walls forever.

“I want to take a picture with you,” he said. You gave him a curious look, though your stomach was doing cartwheels at the suggestion. “I keep thinking about your empty picture frame and I want you to have something to put in it.”

“We can take a selfie,” you suggested. He was quick to shake his head, pushing away from the table to take your hand and lead you to the patio. He pulled the phone from his back pocket and set it up against the couch. He removed the glass from your hand to place it out of view of the camera.

“Now, this is quite the set up,” you murmured as he moved furniture out of the way so there was ample space to take the photo. Denver’s city lights were sure to be the perfect backdrop and having Nate beside you wasn’t too bad either.

“Well, it has to be perfect if it’s going in your office.”

“How do you know I’ll even want to put it in the frame?” you asked. Nate pressed the timer and turned to walk back at you, smirk on his lips. You were teasing him, but you were playing innocent with those doe eyes. He curled around you, arms pulling your back against his chest to pose for the picture.

“After tonight, I’m sure you will,” he murmured in your ear. “Smile.”

The audacity of a man who tells you to smile after igniting your entire body in goosebumps.

The camera went off in a sequence, five pictures for the one timer. You smiled twice before he reached up to turn your face to his for a kiss. The sound of the shutter had you pulling away from his lips with a giggle. He smiled down at you for the next photo as laughter spilled from your lips, and then he was kissing you again.

When you finally pulled away from him, all giggly and handsy, Nate dragged you along with him to his phone. He curled around you as he flipped through the photos, each one cuter than the one before.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t put that in your office?” he asked. His breath tickled the back of your neck. You were just trying to tease him before, but with the lack of space between you and the way he was looking at you in these photos, you just couldn’t tease him anymore. His fingers trailed up your arms, goosebumps rising in their wake once again.

“How’s that fourth glass of wine treating you?” you asked. Nate tucked the phone in his back pocket as you turned to face him. His hands were on you once they were free, curling over the curve of your ass.

“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it,” he murmured against your lips. “I’m trying to be good, but it’s impossible to keep my hands to myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?” you against, arching your body to press against him. You could feel him hard against your hip and knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. You pressed your lips to his and, as you pulled away, you took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked on it.

A growl ripped through his chest as he lifted you into his arms. Your legs came to wrap around his waist as he carried you into the apartment and slammed the patio door shut behind him. He dropped you onto the bed, one hand coming to tug you towards the end by the ankle. His hands spread your legs so he could step between them and they slid up your thigh, pushing your dress up as they went.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured in your ear as his hands reached your hip, dress bunching around his wrists and revealing your lace panties to him. “Stealing touches in a crowded room just doesn’t compare.”

You lifted your arms as he guided the dress over your body and tossed it to the floor. At the sight of your match set, Nate pushed you up the bed and crawled over you. He peppered kisses along your skin from your collarbone to your chest. He worked his way down your stomach until reaching the top of your underwear. In on swift movement, your thong was on the floor and he was spreading your legs.

“So pretty,” he murmured, fingers spreading your folds. You moaned out as he slipped his finger in. “You like my fingers in your pussy, baby?” You could only manage to nod because he’d already slipped a second finger in. He curled them while he pressed a kiss against your inner thigh. “How about my tongue?”

Nate licked a stripe up your center and you gasped, hands flying down to curl into his hair as he continued to eat you out. He sucked on your pussy, continuing to thrust his fingers into and curl. He dragged moans out of you, obscene words dripped from your lips, and the filthy sound of his tongue filled the room.

“You taste so good.”

You tried to grind against face for some more friction, but he held your hips down and continued. You whined, tugging his hair and arching your back as he brought you to orgasm.

“Nate, I’m gonna cu—” you moaned, toes curling at the feet of his lips around you. Suddenly, cool air shocked your core and your orgasm retreated. You sighed as your whole body sank into the bed at the absence of stimulation. Nate crawled up your buddy, licking a stripe up your neck before attaching his lips to yours.

“Sorry, baby,” he said. He nudged your knees apart and situated himself between them, hand falling to his dick as he lined it up with your entrance. “I just need you to cum on my cock.” You moaned as he pushed his head between your folds. “YN, as long as you’re mine, I’ll never make you feel like you don’t deserve all the most romantic things.”

You answered with a moan as he bottomed out inside you. He watched your face as you adjusted to his size and smiled as you whimpered, pulling your teeth between your lips. You felt so good around him and as he began to pull out and thrust in again, your nails dug into his biceps.

You knew he was trying to take his time, but you could hardly take it. As far as you were concerned, Nate would have all the time in the world to take it slow with you. Tonight was not that night.

“Fuck me harder.”

When you sounded like that beneath him, how could he say no? His previously slow and calculated thrusts became sloppy at your request. He relished in the sound of your moaning and the way you called his name like a prayer. You were unraveling beneath him and he wanted to get you there. He adjusted your leg over his shoulder so he could hit a new angle.

“Come on, baby,” he moaned against your lips. “I wanna see you cum for me.”

He reached down and placed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in circles as he pumped into you. You screamed out and your body arched as your orgasm ripped through you. Nate pumped into you a few moments more as he chased his high while listening to your whimpers. He spilled out into his condom as a string of curses left his lips, then collapsed onto of you to catch his breath.

Your fingers immediately found his hair as your breathing evened out together. His body was hot on yours and a sheen of sweat covered both of you. Nate’s fingers curled around your waist and into your skin, squeezing you like he needed to get closer but couldn’t. Finally, he pulled out of you and sat back on his knees.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, hands rubbing up your stomach to cup your breasts. You shivered at his touch. “I never want to leave this bed.”

“Not even for shower sex?”

“Okay, maybe for shower sex,” he murmured. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder to carry you to the bathroom.

---

A few hours (and orgasms later), you were clothed in Nate’s sweats and t-shirt and waiting for him beneath the covers in bed. He was cleaning up the glasses you left on the patio and running the dishwasher, though he was quick to finish it up and return to you. You looked so cute propped up against the headboard that he couldn’t stop smiling as he got ready for bed. He pulled on a pair of sweats, but remained topless as he slid under the covers. Instead of pulling you down to rest on his chest, he dropped his head onto your stomach and pulled you tightly to him. Your fingers carded through his hair.

“Thank you for tonight, Nate,” you spoke. “This was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“I’m counting this as our fourth date,” he responded. You laughed at him, slapping his bicep lightly at his teasing. “Let’s be honest, I was trying to impress you this entire time anyway.”

“Consider me impressed.”

Nate pulled you down to eye level with him, heads on your respective pillows, and then turned to shut the lamp off beside him. When he turned back, he pulled you against his chest. With your ear to his chest, you listened to his heartbeat and his breathing as it evened out. His fingers scratched your back ever-so-slightly as if soothing you to sleep.

“Are you happy?” he asked. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. Could he not tell how happy you were?

“Of course, I am,” you answered. “Are you?”

“How could I not be?” he asked. “You’re so far out of my league.”

“No, I’m not,” you groaned. You covered your blushing face with your hands at his words, hoping that he couldn’t feel the beat of your heart. Nate was quick to tug them down, holding them against his own chest. He didn’t care if you felt how hard his heart was beating. In fact, he wanted you to know. He wanted you to know the effect you had on him.

“You feel my heart, right?” he asked. You nodded. “You did that. You do that to me every single time I’m around you.” Your eyes began to water and you tried to pull your hand away from his to wipe the water pooling in the corner. Nate grabbed both your hands with one of his and wiped it with his own thumb. “I’ll never let you go to bed thinking I don’t love you. I’m going to shower you with flowers from our favorite florist and buy you pastries from that little shop you like, and I’ll never make you feel like you need to stifle yourself and who you are on account of me.”

“Nate.”

“Just listen to me, alright?” he asked, voice soft. You nodded. “Your ex stuffed you down and he didn’t appreciate you. That’ll never happen with me, and if you feel like it is, you need to tell me, just like you did when we first met.”

You tried to stammer through some type of coherent response, but words failed, so you kissed him. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him and your legs intertwined. He was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough, but he felt just the same. He wondered how anyone had let you go before and simultaneously thanked them for the gift that was you.

That night, Nate vowed he’d never let you go to bed unhappy and he’d never let you feel any less than perfect. He waited forever for a partner like you, honest and kind, and he finally had it in his hands, in his bed. And you promised that you’d never love anyone as much as you loved him. You just knew it.

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