#I feel like I can only look a step or two ahead of me
Text
cry me a river [h.hj x reader]
trope: enemies to lovers, uni au
word count: 13.6k
warnings: not much, arguing and bickering obvi, like one badly written breakdown, mentions of abuse but no serious descriptions, a little ateez slander i'm sorry someone had to be villain, that's it i think, lmk if i missed something
Some say a child’s mind is like a blank book, and what's written in it has lasting impact, but you'd say it's more like wet clay, writing on paper can be erased, or cut down, or covered, but what about fingerprints on clay, what about the shapes it was twisted into? those cannot be undone, not without breaking.
And you're a living example.
You were the 12 year old who was told love was something you'd have to earn. You were once the 12 year old crying when your father burst out telling you ‘second is just the first loser', you were the 12 year old shaking, lest the test paper with an 82 on it warrant physical pain.
You were the 13 year old who spent their birthday evaluating what made up a human's worth. Kindness, faith, and community were things that your mother would have said, but certificates, achievements and excellence would be your dad's answer. And for the next 8 years, it'd be yours too.
Young minds are beautiful places, but they trust to a fault, taking whatever is presented to them as absolute truth, often hurting themselves to a point where they find themselves unable to trust when older. And yet, painfully unable to shake the beliefs embedded in their psyche.
Your father isn't in your immediate vicinity to remind you that you're not lovable if you don't have something to offer and he'd be surprised if someone ever loved you for who you are. But his voice still lives in the back of your head, it's enough reminder of your uselessness without Hyunjin exiting.
Hwang Hyunjin, how you hate his guts and how your father would have loved him. All things good: funny, smart, popular, skilled, but most of all, the best at everything.
Always first, always a step ahead of you, prettier than you, smarter than you, more friendly than you.
More than you.
Being the best comes easy to him, hell, everything comes easy to him. Especially making you feel small. He sucks the oxygen out of any place you are in.
It seems like his only purpose in the universe is causing you problems, putting you down, destroying your self esteem, getting into the most sensitive corners of your mind and evoking intense emotions that you didn't even know you were capable of feeling.
He brings out the worst of you, makes your insecurities pop out like bright red on a white canvas.
Maybe it's you who's fragile. But not being affected is difficult when most of his attacks seem to mirror your father's statements.
You don't like Hwang Hyunjin. You know it, Felix knows it, Minho knows it, Hyunjin knows it, the entire campus knows it.
You don't remember when exactly Hyunjin got to this point, but it didn't start like this.
It seems like forever but it's been just about a year since you met him at that party. It's no question that he's good looking, but he had an allure to him that day. Though he was reserved at first, you both soon began to get along and your friendship began to turn into a playful rivalry.
The light hearted competition in everything was welcome at first, but there came a point where it wasn't light hearted anymore. And maybe one of you unknowingly crossed a line or two, but you were hurling sharp insults at the other in only a couple of months of meeting.
You were enemies before you were really friends.
But you blame him for that. You weren't at fault when you recieved your first semester grades and first thing he said was “Seems like second is what you'll always be.”
You weren't over reacting that day when he suggested getting drunk at a party was your only chance of getting laid because “Your personality will distract any sober person from your looks, no one would stay with you long enough to reach that level of trust.”
You weren't overreacting when you'd grabbed him by the collar and told him “Talk to me about trust when someone shows interest in something other than your reputation or face. Talk to me about human connection when you know what it fucking feels like.”
That was probably the harshest thing you'd said to him, and you knew that, because this was his fragile point. He brought it upon himself though. He wasn't seen around for a week after that. But then he was back, the same, with remarks on everything about you, not always prime hurtful, but always unwelcome. There was nothing you did that deterred him from being so disruptive. So you learnt to let it be.
But your friends didn't get the memo. They seem to get along with him really well. To this day they've been trying to get you two to ‘settle your differences’. You reckon they'll get tired one day.
☆⋆｡°☆
This was a bad idea. They should have given up after two of their previous attempts.
Closed rehearsal room and your friends who thought of inviting the bane of your existence to join for a dance practice session.
“Darling you're not even trying,” he condescends, “though I don't think it'd make much of a difference if you did.” There goes that smirk.
Felix pauses his movement momentarily to look at the situation, but Minho, ever the strict teacher, orders the three of you back into position. It's been an hour of trying to come up with a choreography for a song of his choosing and you'd be worried about his disappointment in the lack of progress if you didn't have a 5 '10 problem to deal with.
Whose idea was it to attempt getting you and Hyunjin to be friends?
You've been trying your best to focus on the instructions Minho gives but Hwang Hyunjin can be really, really annoying when he needs to be. And you're reaching the brink of your already limited patience.
“That's it, Min. I don't know which of you two decided this was a good idea but I really hope this guy isn't in this room the next time I am. I'm not doing this anymore.” You declare and walk to get your bag when, ofcourse, Hyunjin comments.
“Oh come on,” he fakes a pout, “you're disappointing your best friends. And me.” He says, like he matters.
“Well then,” you glare him down, done dealing with him for the rest of your life, “cry me a river and drown in it.”
He winces and puts a hand over his heart like he's hurt, before laughing, “As you wish darling.” You're very close to snapping but you just take a few steps towards him till his back hits the wall. “Shut up, will you?”
“Oo, how scary.” His hand reaches out but you smack it away before it does anything, your attention would be on his red ears if it wasn't on that stupid smirk.
And as you walk out you swear to yourself to wipe it off his face someday.
When Minho and Lix brought him along and introduced him to you, he was nice, polite, quiet almost. But now it seems like he is on a personal vendetta to get on your nerves.
His attacks go from just annoying to ignorant to personally hurtful when no one's looking. And you hate him for it.
Felix keeps attempting to get you and his bestfriend to not be at each other's throats all the time. You can't say it's working but you've gotten more used to having a constant source of irritation around.
Is there more layers to your hatred of him than just this? Yes. Would you ever admit that? Probably not.
☆⋆｡°☆
The next you see of him is in your dorm, on your dinner table. Actually your trio’s table but he doesn't belong here either way.
He lifts a hand and waves, mouthing a ‘hey there’, to which you flip him off. You reach the table and just stand beside your friends till they feel obligated to provide an explanation. Felix speaks up first, keeping his mug aside,“Hi yn!” but completely ignores your apprehension, prompts you to sit down instead, which you do with a huff.
You don't spare him another glance but you can feel his eyes focused on you.
“Answer a question l/n.” He seems to be studying your stance for some reason. “What even is the point of you?”
You take a deep breath. You don't wanna smite him in your own kitchen. “You ask me that like your own life has any meaning.”
“So you don't have an answer?”
“Do you get off of the annoyance you cause other people?”
“Probably. You're my favorite though.” He winks and you have to use the entirety of your self control to not break his jaw.
“You done?” Minho says to Hyunjin, though it feels as if he's addressing you both.
“There’s a group dance competition in late November,” he sees both you and Hyunjin open your mouths but he cuts it off early, “it outright says groups of four or more.”
“Then I'm out.”
“So am I.”
“You both calm your asses right now,” Minho gives a look that promptly gets you both settled in your seats, though he ignores Lix’s giggle, “the prize money for the winners is huge.”
“And I know you don't need the money like us,” he looks at Hyunjin, “but Hongjoong is bringing his team. I'm sure you'd like to participate.”
Hyunjin nods his participation but Minho isn't done. “If I see whatever problem you both have with each other becoming a problem to practice..” He concludes himself with silence and you swear Hyunjin gulps as you hold eye contact with Minho, as if challenging him to finish.
You've known him since his shy highschooler days, you're not about to be intimidated by this doe eyed example of a man.
“I think they'll manage!” Felix cheers Minho so he disrupts whatever staring contests you both are in. Conveniently dragging him out and inconveniently leaving you and Hyunjin together. This is the first time you're alone with him in a couple of months.
You get up as if he isn't sat across from you to make yourself some tea. It's almost done when he speaks.
“So…. truce?”
“I’m not acting friendly with you just because that rodent wants me to” you clear and set down a mug of tea on the table with some force, “don't make yourself comfortable.”
He looks nonplussed at the cup in front of him and looks back at you.
“You were staring at Lix’s tea like a dying man. Drink it. Or don't. Whatever.”
“Aww you do care about your arch-enemy after all!” He makes a face that makes you wanna hurt him.
You walk out.
☆⋆｡°☆
“But wouldn’t that seem like piracy in dance? A dancepiracy?” Felix exclaims, in his usual manner of what-even-is-his-vocabulary when Minho has all of you gathered in a practice room on campus.
“Lix, I'm sorry, what?”
Hyunjin enters, a bit late as he always is, “Hi-”
“Don't talk to me.” You cut him off and receive an eye roll before walking off to Minho and he beckons the two of them to do the same.
“Alright, let's decide a general vibe we're going for and then we'll pick a song based on that.”
“How about a contemporary mix?” Hyunjin says, and before Minho can say something, you do.
“You're so clueless it's almost cute. You're gonna fight Ateez, with contemporary?” You scoff like it's the most ridiculous thing you've heard and he gives you an offended kindergartener look.
“Alright break it up, we'll club every idea together and then eliminate.” Minho says, already getting tired of the setting. How will he do this for a few more weeks?
Almost half an hour passes before the animated discussion about concepts, styles and which one of those could be used by potential opponents ends and you all try to decide on a song.
“But if we do Charisma we're gonna run out of energy pretty quickly and the power of the song is gonna overrule the moves.” You say and for the first time, Hyunjin agrees, so Minho has to drop it.
“We should try k-music, how about Overdrive? The one by I.M.?” Hyunjin says and you almost pat him on the back.
“That, Hwang, is probably the only good idea you've ever had in your life. Let's do it.” If hyunjin replies, it is tuned out by the sounds of a happy Felix.
☆
“Hyunjin if your hand touches my face one more time I'm gonna rip it off!” Minho says, much to effect, Hyunjin shudders and his hand never reaches a foot’s radius of Minho again. He looks hilarious like that, cute even. Wait. No.
“Alright, that's probably all we can do today, I want all of you here tomorrow at 5pm. Don't be late, Hyunjin.”
“Hey, why are you pointing me out?” Hyunjin whines and you reply for Minho.
“Because you're the only dumbass who ever actually is late.”
“You say that like your middle name is punctual.” He retorts and he looks unreasonably attractive while doing so. You hate him for that.
“And? I've hardly been late to anything dickwad.”
“Oh well, I might be 15 minutes late to practice but I'm still better than you aren't I?”
“Oh fuck off,” you scoff. “You're about as better than me as I am better than Kirsten Dodgen.”
“Come on, instead of making excuses, how bout you dance better ln?” He scoffs.
“How bout you shove your attitude up your ass, Hwang? Bragging doesn't make you superior.” He bends down to your face in the most condescending way ever. “Having something to brag about is what makes me superior, darling.” You're done with him.
“You'd be so much more likable if you weren't an utter bitch.” You see his gaze drop and you find yourself scoffing. If he chooses to make a conversation escalate he should deal with what's to come.
Before he can say something in return though, Minho interrupts him and drags him out. You walk out before Felix gets the chance to lecture you.
☆⋆｡°☆
You're in your common room snacking as Minho and Lix argue over their makeup styles.
"Lemme do your makeup please?" Felix asks for the third time, giving Minho his best puppy eyes, and he is close to cracking, but he has a little bit of dignity left, so he turns to you for help. "Only if yn says so."
"I think lixie's style would look quite pretty on you Min." You munch on a chip, Felix jumping up with a 'yes!' while Minho just looks at you, betrayed. You give him a small smile as an apology.
You are lost in thoughts of how much you adore these two, heart warming at their silly dynamic when you hear a knock on the door.
“I'll check it.”
Out of all the people who could have possibly been at your door for any possible reason, it has to be Hwang Hyunjin.
“Why are you here?” He doesn't give you a direct answer, which isn’t like him, but just looks at his shoes.
“Can I talk to Lix-”
“He's not here.” You know he is, Hyunjin knows too, but you're not very keen on letting him in. But he doesn't try to force it, he looks almost desperate when he replies.
“Please just let me talk to him for a moment?” Hyunjin isn't usually polite to you, so you don't actively block him and step aside to let him enter.
Felix is doing Minho’s eyeshadow when he sees him, mutters out a greeting, and only senses something is off when he pays attention to Hyunjin’s face.
“What's up, hyun?”
“I- uh this is kinda weird but, there's a spare bed in your room right? Since your dorm is for four people.”
“Jinnie hyung what happened?”
“Well they're doing some emergency repair work in my room starting today evening and me and Jisung need a place to live for like a few days. Hotels are expensive.” Hyunjin looks the most embarrassed you've ever seen him, you don't know why but you definitely don't want him to stay.
“Jisung already found a place and uh, it's just for a few days-”
“It's ok hyung you can stay in mine.” Felix smiles at him and tells him to go get all the stuff he'll need for those few days.
As soon as he's out the door you start, “Felix, what the fuck? Did you just invite him to stay over?” He sighs and gives you a look.
“Look he's my best friend, he's not that bad, besides he's gonna be in my room and I'll keep him in check I promise. It'll be fine.”
You didn't think it'd be fine. With Hyunjin around it'd never be fine. But you can't think of any way out other than shutting yourself in your room. That works fine for a few hours, Hyunjin brings over his stuff and you can make out sounds of the three boys playing games and goofing around. But you are human. You're hungry.
You try your best to tiptoe to the kitchen, and you get in safely, but on your way back, you slam into Hyunjin. How fun.
“Come on, yn, at least walk properly.” He brushes himself off like he just touched dirt, and something about that gesture gets to you. In a moment he's shoved against the wall and his breath is knocked out of his lungs. You have him by the collar.
“What is your problem with me, huh?”, you interrogate, his ears are red but his face is unyielding, “why do you insist on being such an asshole to me? What have I ever done to you?” He gulps but his gaze on you doesn't falter. In another world you'd see what your hand around his neck would feel like.
“You're the one who likes acting superior, someone has to remind you you're not.” He says and some thread of resolve deep within you snaps.
“Look Hyunjin, I don't know what deep insecurity of yours makes you hostile towards me. But I'm tired of this,” you glare, “I'm tired of you.”
“You think you have the right to say that huh?”, he scoffs at you, “you were so nice at first why did you decide to hate me all of a sudden?” It's ridiculous how he almost looks hurt. It draws a dry laugh out of you.
“I'm sorry but I should be the one saying that. Because you were the one who decided to be offended in secret and suddenly start sounding like my-” you almost say it, the reason his words affect you so gravely.
“Like your what?”
“Nevermind.” You let go of his collar and step back, he's not worthy of hearing about your reasons. He stays in place, staring at the ground, when you're about to walk out he speaks.
“It's because I hate you.” He says, you turn to him as he continues. “Rephrase, I hate how nothing budges you. You make me think of everything in my life that's out of my control. You're this seemingly perfect human and nothing gets to you. I wanted to see how far you could be pushed before you break. But you didn't, you never do. And honestly, you make me insecure.” His gaze is fixed on the ground but the irony of the situation gets to you.
A laugh is drawn out of you at the prospect. “That's low, even by your standard, Hyunjin.”
“I wanted some confirmation that you're human, that you have insecurities and fears and triggers, but you never show them.”
“Haven't you pulled enough of my triggers already? Why’re you so hellbent on creating problems for me?”
“Because I don't wanna be less than you,” he says, and the irony makes you wanna strangle him. He mutters a curse. “I have a question. Why did you say that last year?” He asks, much to your confusion.
“Say what?” You ask, he inhales deeply and bites his lip, you're momentarily distracted despite the situation.
“That party at Seungmin’s after summer? I heard what you said.” He looks almost vulnerable but you still don't know what he's talking about so he continues.
“You were talking to someone that day, I heard my name so I was curious, you said I remind you of all the bad things in your life. That you hated me. And you'd been acting so harsh with me that week.”
“What?”, it takes you a moment to register what he's talking about, “oh. That.”
“Forget it, it wasn't about you.” You say and he smiles at the ground, “So you do hate me.”
“No, it's not that-”
“Then what is it?”
“I-, it's my dad. I don't wanna talk about it in detail but you're everything he's ever wanted of me, you remind me of him and you talk the same way. That summer was when I told him I'm not taking his shit anymore. I was telling Minho about it.” Hyunjin looks stunned at the confession.
“I don't hate you, you know? You just seem like someone too good to be a friend of mine.” He says and you laugh.
“You're so dumb Hwang Hyunjin. I don't forgive you but for the sake of our friends,” you look up at him and he's never looked so expectant, “truce?” His expression changes and you can sense the teasing coming your way.
“Did you just say that? You do like me that much huh?” You slap his arm.
“Shut up before I change my mind.”
“Oh, by the way, Lix is playing Moana in a few minutes, he said it's one of your faves, go sit with them, he'll like it. I'll fetch snacks like he told me to.”
You end up watching the movie with them, your snacks are attacked, you discover that Hyunjin does have a sense of humor.
The next day is smoother, you didn't expect Hyunjin to stop being a loudmouth, and he doesn't, but it's more bearable than before, it's not quite friendly yet, you both need time to work to that level after the spontaneous truce, but it's bearable.
A group study in the library that all four of you agreed to just turned into a heated debate about literature and he may beat you in a dance competition but you'd be damned if he ever beats you in a debate.
“I may have mistaken the quote for a Khalil Gibran one because it was similar but you quoted Oscar Wilde in a hetero scenario. Come on. You didn't even know what place Odesseus ruled or why Troy happened.” You're in disbelief.
“Ok fine. You got me. I know nothing about literature, especially Greek. Happy?” He admits defeat and you've never felt better.
“Oh, very happy.” You're sure the grin on your face is annoying the hell out of him.
You all get home groaning about not wanting to work to make dinner. One thing none of you expected though, is that all of you will miss the snowstorm alert and the notice of classes being canceled.
“GUYS WE'RE FUCKED!” Felix shouts from the couch where he and Hyunjin are playing a game as you and Minho cook, everyone gathers around the boy as he reads out the alert emailed to all students. Minho groans, you sigh and Felix sits dejected.
“Why are you all so down? It's just a snowstorm.” Hyunjin says and Felix fills him in about the deteriorated condition of the heater and the potential threat of a power cut. Also the inevitable delay that will happen to his dorm’s repair work.
The dinner is silent not just because of the news but because Felix and Minho know tomorrow is your birthday.
Felix and Hyunjin are just done doing the dishes when the younger perks up, “I know what to do! WE'LL MAKE A WARM PILLOW FORT IN ONE OF THE ROOMS!”
“Lix I don't think that's a good idea.” You're not very excited to do this with Hyunjin around but Minho makes it worse.
“See that makes sense, if all of us sleep in one room it'd be warmer.” You know there's no going back from that so you assist in moving mattresses and blankets to make the nest looking thing ‘for the slumber party’ as Felix says.
Someone's (yours) laptop is propped up on a piece of furniture and a Disney movie, this time of Hyunjin's choosing, is played.
Looking at it positively, there's snacks, you're warm, everyone is having fun while there's a snowstorm outside, you have no classes for two days. It's not that bad.
No one knows who falls asleep first, but there's no power when you wake up way too early, you wish yourself happy birthday and get up for tea when you're ambushed. Minho seats you back down as he and Felix softly sing the Happy Birthday song in the dark, Hyunjin shifts and wakes up, confused very much at the strange spectacle.
Phone flashlights are turned on when a Felix-made box of brownies is passed to you, Minho lights a mini candle that you blow out and make a wish.
“You'll have to wait a little longer for your gifts, though.” Minho says as he gives you a hug.
The day starts early and the power comes back on in a few hours as the storm calms down. You're told to dress up for the gift giving and Hyunjin is made cameraman.
Felix gives you a novel you've been wanting for a while along with a beautiful necklace and Minho gets you perfume and calligraphy pens. Hyunjin apologizes for not knowing it's your birthday but you tell him you don't mind.
You're not allowed to help when Minho dictates Felix and Hyunjin as they make some of your favorite food. The spectacle is amusing as can be, Hyunjin is absolutely clueless about cooking and looks lost while Felix runs about trying to manage his tasks as Minho is busy at the stove. The meal is one of the best you've had in a while.
This is how you like your birthdays, homely, cozy and a little bit silly.
You didn't expect even a birthday wish from Hyunjin so it's certainly a surprise when he finds you later in the evening and hands you a small painting of a chrysanthemum.
“I don't know what to give you so I made a painting of your birth flower, but I know you like blue so I made it blue.”
“I don't- I didn't know you paint so well Hyunjin, this- it's lovely, you didn't have to. Thank you so much.” He just gives you a small smile, which you return.
The flower is beautiful and you notice it's the exact shade of blue as your outfit. You'll keep the painting safe.
☆⋆｡°☆
There's a couple of weeks left for the competition but your team is making great progress, you're all skilled, Minho is a great mentor and you find that Hyunjin's choreography style is quite similar to yours.
Speaking of Hyunjin, you've been getting along with him better. His jokes aren't as much attacks as they are annoying, he's dramatic and he's stupid but he's also quite thoughtful. Maybe he isn't all that bad.
Hyunjin makes a very unfunny joke and you lightly punch him in the ribs, looking up to find Minho giving you a suspicious look. “What?” He doesn't reply.
When you're all packing up to leave practice when Hyunjin speaks.
“I think we're friends now.” His tone is of false disbelief, he almost looks cute with that exasperated expression.
“God don't say that. I still wanna kill you every time I see you.” You say, but you're laughing.
You wanna kill him, but you also kind of wanna kiss him.
Wait. No.
He's invited over to the dorm today despite his dorm having been fixed long ago. He's bringing Jisung with him, Felix and Jisung are already friends and Minho has taken a unique liking to the boy.
The offer is of studying together and then later hanging with snacks to find an excuse to ditch a party none of you wanna go to.
“I call dibs on the big chair!” Jisung yells and Felix claims the next best spot in his own room. Hyunjin settles on the floor because you claim Lix's bed before him and Minho claims another place.
You throw a folded blanket at him, “Cushion your ass Hwang,” you smirk, “if you have any that is.” Jisung snorts in the corner. “Don't insult the man’s cake like that, yn!”
A few hours pass with Jisung and Felix chatting between their work and Minho giving them endearing looks, you and Hyunjin just work but you can't help but notice how his eyes flicker to you every other minute.
You find yourself staring at his lips as his tongue reaches out to wet them, you involuntary mimic his action. He's beautiful, undeniably, but he looks so soft in his pastel blue sweater that you almost forget you used to hate him. You wonder what his hugs feel like.
Wait. No. No, you don't.
You run to your room to fetch your strawberry lipbalm.
“Hyunjin put your laptop down for a sec,” he throws you a questioning glance but complies, the other three are too busy to notice what you're doing, the pad of your ring finger swipes the tinted product across his slightly chapped lips, “There.”
You don't realize what you've until he gulps, “Shit, I'm sorry, I should've asked-”
“Thanks.” He looks a little red and you figure it's the embarrassment of it all.
☆
You run across Hyunjin again, as he's returning from the kitchen and you're heading there, you walk towards him, not knowing what you're gonna say when the glossy red tint on his lips is so, so enticing. He doesn't protest when your hand is on his face, examining it.
“The shade suits you.” His breath is uneven and he gulps, you notice his eyes darting down to the same shade on your lips. You don't know why you do it, or how you'll explain it.
But you kiss him, his lips are every bit as soft as you imagined them to be everytime he bit them. You think you've fucked everything up until he kisses back uncertainly.
You part and your eyes drop down, so does the hand that was previously on his face.
“I-”, you curse your words for failing you at that moment and the thousand jumbled thoughts in your head that make it difficult to think.
“This never happened.” You say, finally, as you step back.
“Consider it forgotten.” He confirms.
Him and Jisung leave after almost an hour, you won't be able to sleep today.
☆⋆｡°☆
You said ‘this never happened’, you don't have any explanation of why it proceeded to happen many times afterwards. You would talk about it if only you understood what you're feeling, but you don't. And it's not messing anything up and none of you is ready to give the other an explanation.
There's two days left in the competition, and the preparation is finally done. All of you are satisfied with the final choreography and the decided outfits. Maybe you're a tad bit too interested in the pictures Hyunjin shows of him in his outfit.
Minho insisted for a last run with counts before the hour ended. You look at Hyunjin’s form as he dances, he has complete control over what beats he does and doesn't hit, he looks the best here, you think, in his element. Besides there's certain thoughts you have about his tank top and sweaty body, thoughts that you don't wanna acknowledge. The song ends and Hyunjin stops moving, much to your disappointment.
You look straight at him as you play 'Industry baby' and raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. “You first.” He accepts. The things you do to get Hwang Hyunjin dancing again.
Minho and Felix both cheer on as the dance battle continues. You beat Yunho on this song and both of them know it. You see Hyunjin's eyes widen when you hit a beat in the chorus with your entire body. He whistles and you take that as an ego boost. The battle was in your favor.
“Admit I'm better than you,” you say to him, he laughs in response, but not in the mocking way you're familiar with.
“It'd be a cold day in whatever hell you came from before I do that.” He raises a brow at you though he's smiling.
“Gotta tell my dad to turn the AC down.” You deadpan and the three boys snort.
“Are your trauma jokes always necessary?”
“No but they're funny so..”
☆
You're at Hyunjin and Han’s dorm after practice and for a godforsaken reason, Minho and Felix are both somewhere else while you sit awkwardly in Hyunjin's desk chair with your drink. He's still in the shower, you were all previously in this room but the three decided to leave you alone with Hyunjin. They're doing that a lot these days. Hyunjin's blow dryer is loud.
He steps out and you almost choke on your boba. He's shirtless. You look in the opposite direction as fast as you can.
“Don't worry, darling, you can look. I know I'm irresistible.”
“Shut up before I throw my boba at you.” but you look anyway, he somehow looks better than what you'd imagined was under his tank top.
This time you let your eyes trail over him, from collarbones to the slightly visible v-line above his sweatpants, just to see who looks away first. He feels your vision on him like it's cold winter air, but doesn't look away.
You take that as a challenge, you put your drink away and walk to him. He doesn't look away. Your hand finds his waist, he inhales sharply and you pull him to you. Your other hand finds his nape when there's barely any distance left between you. He still doesn't give up.
“It’s almost like you want me to do something,” you let your eyes run shamelessly across his skin, “tell me to stop.” He doesn't, so you kiss him. And he kisses back, this time with certainty. You let the feeling soak into you for a moment. It's him who takes it further, and you retaliate, you bite his lower lip right when you give his hair a little tug and he gasps into your mouth, his hands roam your body and you let them.
You push him back until his knees hit his bed and he lets himself fall, his hands find your waist again as soon as you're straddling him, this time your hand is on his neck instead of his hair, you let him kiss you once more before your lips are attached to his jawline, then down to his collarbone, your teeth nip at his skin and your hand presses at the sides of his neck experimentally, his arms tighten around you and he moans. You peel yourself away from him to look at his face, the redness from his face has bled down his neck to half his chest. Cute.
“You're.. extremely red.” You say.
“Shut up.”
“Like.. cherry red.” You tease.
“Go to hell.” You laugh but gasp when he pulls you down to lay over him and engulfs you in a sort of bear hug. It feels surprisingly nice.
“I can't go back home right now but your company is a better substitute for hell don't you think?” He pushes you off of him at that.
“Hey I was kidding-”
There's a knock on the door and Hyunjin runs for his shirt and you run to fix your hair and grab your drink.
“What’re you guys doing in there with the door closed?” It's Han. You'd strangle him if he wasn't Minho's favorite.
“Mind your own Jisung, I just got out of the shower!” Hyunjin yells, “And y'all were the ones who left me alone here what the fuck Han?” You add.
There's things one only notices when they're very, very close to someone. Hyunjin has a faint mole under his left eye.
☆⋆｡°☆
It's competition day and you have a problem. In the heat of the moment, you'd forgotten how low cut his stage outfit was. Now you're trying not to look as Jisung and Felix interrogate Hyunjin about where he got the hickeys from. He doesn't give anything away, thankfully, you're not ready to explain something you're not even sure about, but Minho has been awfully quiet and you think he's suspecting something.
All thoughts leave your head as you hear the host of the evening start introducing the event, the order of performances is announced and Ateez is called on first, everyone expects them to win. There's a few more teams before you and your team is close to the last, you count a few possible opponents who are good competition, like the Soobin and Yeji’s teams, you know most of the participants from Uni.
Watching others perform, you can feel the familiar pre performance adrenaline taking over. You love it. This rush is part of the reason you do dance competitively.
Hyunjin comes up to you and gives your hand a little squeeze, “let's kill this yeah?” “Oh we absolutely will.”
And you do. The cheers get louder as the performance progresses and choosing a song this heavy on beats may have cost all of you your lungs during practice, but you move like you know each other's bodies and Ateez doesn't look so smug anymore. The hyped crowd is all so worth it.
As Felix predicted, the bridge is the part which gets the loudest cheers.
There's only two performances after yours and the results come in soon after. The host thanks the sponsors and announces the positions bottom to top. Yeji’s teams is runner up.
Soobin’s team is third. The boys hug each other before they run to collect their prize, their friends cheer for them. But your heart starts beating violently soon afterwards, you're standing behind MinLix, so Hyunjin takes your hand, he's jittery so you let him.
Ateez, Hongjoong’s team, is second. You heave a sigh of relief and Hyunjin relaxes, though he doesn't let go of your hand. Ateez boys look upset and you suppress the urge to smile.
Your team is announced first place and the four of you jump in joy and you hear Jisung screaming from the audience.
☆
You're all dizzy with laughter when Jisung excuses himself to go to the bathroom and MinLix leave to find a friend. Why do they keep doing that?
Ateez takes this as an appropriate time to approach you two, though they don't even acknowledge your presence. Yunho keeps looking the opposite way, he always does that around you since he was beaten in the dance battle.
“You won't always keep winning Hwang.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes at him but looks uncomfortable, you identify this boy as Wooyoung. A more slender boy? person? human? approaches next with shocked eyes.
“Is that a hickey, Jinnie?” Though he uses a nickname, it's clear that he means nothing good when he pokes Hyunjin's collarbone with his finger. Hyunjin mumbles a ‘shut up’ but they ignore him. Hyunjin looks like he'd rather be anywhere than here. The next one to say something is Hongjoong, you've seen him around. He's no good.
“Looks like the pretty boy has finally found himself a girlfriend. Or did you find a sugar daddy, Hyunjin? Where'd you get the hickey from?” The whole group snickers behind him and Hyunjin is clenching his jaw. He looks angry and you decide to do something.
“Well he got it from me. You got a problem with that?” You raise a brow at the man, he's barely taller than you.
“Oh come on, l/n. Everyone knows you hate him. Why defend him just because he's on your team?” You take a step further, and look directly at him.
“Are you calling me a liar, Kim Hongjoong?” He smirks back at you and you never thought any smirk except Hyunjin's could ever make you this angry, but you wanna punch him in the face right here.
“No, l/n. I'm just saying that's a little difficult to believe considering you were at each other's throats not long ago. If you want us to believe, why don't you give us some proof, eh?” He sneers, clearly expecting you to falter and deny the whole thing.
You laugh at his face, “You want proof huh? Well, how about this?” You turn and kiss Hyunjin, with your arms around his shoulders and his around your torso. Deep enough to make them uncomfortable.
“Alright we get the point. Enough. You're in public, l/n.” When you part, Hyunjin smiles at them in a way you know will piss them off. Because it did the same to you not long ago.
“Well you're the one who wanted proof Kim. Now fuck right off. If I see you bothering my arch enemy again, you won't be allowed into the art history class anymore. Mark my words.”
You drag Hyunjin to a quiet corner, away from the crowd and shoot a text to the other boys telling them to meet you both at Hyunjin's dorm.
You check up on the boy and he looks miserable. “Hey. You fine? I'm sorry I should have let you deal with it without interfering.” You apologize but he shakes his head.
“No, that was really funny, I'm sure it pissed them off, just- I'm sorry you had to witness that.” He looks dejected and you can't find it even in the cruelest parts of you to not help him.
“Hey. Listen. I don't care what they think of themselves but they don't deserve to make you feel bad about anything. And I don't think any less of you because they decide to be assholes, if anything I respect you more now.” He gives you a small nod and a smile, this time, an actual, genuine smile.
“Would mind if I just..” he wraps his arms around you and his head comes to rest on your shoulder, “stay like this for a bit?” You hug him back and nothing needs to be said for a while. Hyunjin's hugs do feel nice.
When you bring him back to his dorm, the joke on the tip of Jisung’s tongue doesn't get the chance to escape. He looks concerned for Hyunjin, that's the first time you've seen the boy serious. They exchange glances and it's like he just knows what happened.
The evening is a quiet sort of celebratory, and you find yourself trying to avoid Hyunjin as much as possible. How are you going to explain anything you're feeling to him when you can't even explain it to yourself? Minho and Jisung make everyone ramen and a sleepover ensues. You're all in Jisung’s room, him and Minho in the same bed, you, Felix and Hyunjin on the floor. Why Hyunjin's not in his own bed is weird to you. Maybe sleepover spirit.
When you wake up to get water you find Hyunjin isn't in his place anymore. He isn't in the kitchen either. You're avoiding him but you don't wanna be the prime suspect if he's found dead.
You roam around and find him his room, sketching in the faint light of his night light like the lunatic he is, you smack the back of his head, you forgot how dramatic he can be, and you have to cover his mouth so he doesn't scream. “Shut up, you idiot. It's me,” he licks your hand, “eww. Filthy.” You wipe the hand on his shoulder.
“You literally made out with me in public, how's that filthy?” You notice what he's wearing, a white shirt, with the first two buttons undone. You smack him again.
“You idiotic dunce! Do you wanna catch a fucking cold it's literally late November!” He winces and reaches for the sweater beside him, you try to see what he's sketching but he hides it with almost superhuman speed. “Chill Hyunjin, I don't wanna spy on you.”
“Why are you awake?” He asks.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep.”
“Samesies. Though unlike you, I don't voluntarily ruin my eyesight when I wake up a bit too early.” You gesture to the lack of light and he sighs.
“What do you do then?” The question catches you off-guard, it sounds genuine and for some reason you answer it genuinely.
“I write poems. In light.”
“Poems about what?”
“That's none of your business.” Your voice suddenly sounds cold and you curse yourself for turning out so hostile with your reply.
“Sorry. I won't intrude-”
“No. I- I don't like sharing it. I don't like sharing at all actually.”
“I get that. There's parts of me I don't like sharing either. Don't feel bad about it.”
“Why didn't I ever notice how thoughtful you are?”
“Maybe cuz you never tried to.” He presses his lips together and you suddenly feel bad about yourself.
“Hey,” he says, “I wanna say sorry. I know how much of an asshole I've been to you. It doesn't deserve much forgiveness but it's bothering me a lot. So I say it again: I'm sorry for everything I've said and done.”
You search your brain for any reasons to not forgive him. But with the way he's been the last month, you don't find any. “I forgive you.” You say, and it's like some invisible tension is released from his body. He smiles at you. “Thank you.”
“Hyunjin?”
“Yes?”
“Let's get to know each other more.”
“How?”
“I'll ask a question, we both answer it, then you ask one.” He nods, so you ask.
“What's something you'd do if money wasn't a factor? I'd be a philosopher or a writer.”
“I'd be an artist or a dancer maybe. If you could live in one fictional universe, which one would it be? I'd love to be in the Harry Potter universe but the author’s racist.”
“I think I'd like to live in either Dan Brown's or Rick Riordan’s books.”
“What's something you wish more people in the world understood?”
That night you feel closer to him than you've ever been. You discover Hyunjin is an incredibly sentimental person, he also is a romantic, he's an only child, his parents are divorced, he has a dog back at home. So many things you never knew about him. He's flawed, you're flawed, but he’s not a bad human being. You hope you aren't one either.
Ofcourse him being a thoughtful person doesn't rule out the annoying ass he is.
You both don't go to sleep again, you chat while he continues his drawing and you scroll through your notes app editing your writings. You find yourself enjoying his company. Two months ago, if someone told you you'd find peace around him, you would have laughed.
☆
The five of you seem to stay together almost all the time now that Jisung is also a part of the group. The text comes when you're all out eating a few days later. Minho is offended when you forget to answer his question in favor of staring at your phone. When he sees your expression is when he realizes something's off.
“What's wrong?” He says, and everyone’s eyes are on you.
“He wants to meet me. Tomorrow. He's coming here.” Minho doesn't need another word to understand what you're talking about, but the rest of the boys stay confused. Yet no one questions why you excuse yourself in the middle of the meal to go back home.
Minho doesn't disturb you when you lock yourself in the room you both share, choosing to sleep in Felix’s room instead. He knows you'll need to deal with your father alone. Even if the man refuses to let you be when you've practically abandoned him.
The next day you leave the house after they're both gone for their last classes. You don't expect the meeting with your father to be anything good, but you know that he'll hunt you down to your dorm or lectures if you don't go where he wants you.
He never is genuinely happy to see you, you learnt to tell his expressions apart when you were 8, and his smile right now is definitely a fake. He orders a coffee for himself and you politely deny his offer to get you one as well.
He says the same thing he does every time you meet him, trying to convince you of God knows what. You're tired of having this same conversation over and over again.
“Don't do this to me. You're my child.”
“I’m not just your child, I'm a person. You've done enough damage. Stay away from me.”
“But how can you leave me alone? I'm getting older and I have no one to rely on-”
“And whose fault is that?”
“I'm sorry! Ok? But you don't respect me, can't I even want respect and company from my child?” The statement makes you wanna punch him but you just laugh.
“Don't start talking about respect. Respect is earned, and you did nothing to earn it. And if you couldn't give me the love and support you should have given your child, at least give me the privacy and independence every human deserves.”
“But-”
“I told you that day. I don't know you anymore. It'd be wise of you to stay away from me if you don't want the police called on you.”
He tries to say more but you just walk out of the cafe and back to your dorm. You know he won't follow you. He's too egoistic for that.
☆⋆｡°☆
Minho hasn't slept in his own bed for two days, and you haven't seen sunlight in quite a while. The stream of texts your father sent you after your meeting, accusing you of being an ungrateful offspring and a useless human were much more depressing than the real conversation, the one you didn't allow to happen. Finally blocking him felt good nonetheless. You're tired of the responsibility of interacting with him.
You get out of bed and your entire body feels stiff, and your eyes are glitching. Maybe keeping the blinds down for two whole days wasn't a good idea. And you smell. But you still can't find the willpower to shower.
There's a knock on your door. Minho.
“Yn? You there? I need something from my closet.” You open the door for him and his demeanor softens at your state. He knows you since highschool, he's the only one who knows what's going on and the extent to which it matters.
“Hey. Why don't you go shower, hm? The boys are all outside, they're concerned cuz they haven't seen you for some time but I'll tell them not to worry, ok?” You probably should shower. You nod at him and step out to go to the bathroom.
Your body feels a lot better afterwards, but the world still sort of feels colorless, you decide to go get some food other than the snacks you lived on for two days. Maybe some actual food will make you feel better. There's a sticky note from Minho addressed to you on the microwave.
‘your meal inside :) finish it all’
You smile. He never stops taking care of all of you, that's how he shows you love.
The meal makes you feel a little alive, but the color in your world is still absent.
The boys ask you if you're ok on you way back to your room, you give them a small smile and true to Minho's words, none of them tries to dig you for information. You do notice the unexpected concern on Hyunjin's face. Weird.
Maybe you should go to your classes tomorrow.
☆
The crowd of the noon classes will never be something you like, but at least your first class is something you like and share with Hyunjin and Felix. You zone out somewhere in the middle of the lecture and your brain, your actual enemy, decides to give you thoughts about your upbringing. No matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your mind gets stuck on how unfair your father always was to you. How he deserves to die alone. How you don't feel sorry for saying that. Your lungs have been restricted since that day, but it's becoming more difficult for you to breathe every minute. You need to get out of here. You really need to get out of the crowd before you start hyperventilating.
Hyunjin saw you hurriedly ask the professor to excuse you, he asked the professor to let him go after you, and seeing how you looked, the professor let him.
You haven't had a meltdown in a long time and your lungs burn as your breathing becomes labored, you find a quiet corridor to hide from the footsteps behind you.
Your legs go weak and the weight of the ceiling doubles and presses down on your head. You drop to your knees.
“Yn!” His hand is on your shoulder and you swat it away before you can even comprehend it. Things are too fast, way too fast for your brain to help.
“Get away!” You can't have him here right now, not when you're vulnerable and he has the power to rip you apart. Your brain doesn't trust him with this.
“Let me help-”
“I don't need help! Es- Especially from you.” You never see the hurt that flashes in his eyes because something that feels like a strong blow to your chest knocks the air out of your lungs. You clutch your top, even the fabric feeling like a restriction on breathing.
You hear him mumble a ‘fuck it' before he knnels down beside you and you're pressed to his chest in a protective hug. Your mental barrier collapses.
Tears escape you like a dam overflowing, your brain not functional enough to form a coherent sentence. Years of bottled up hurt, the emotionally overwhelming events of the last few days and the unpleasant reminders of everything you lack flow out in ugly sobs as Hyunjin runs a comforting hand across your back. No questions asked. You surprise yourself with how broken your crying sounds.
Your breathing is choked and painful, quite like your life in your childhood home. But there was no one to help you calm down there, no one telling you ‘its okay, you're safe, try to follow my breathing hm?’
You follow his instructions the best you can, calming down enough for some air to flow into your lungs. He makes you drink water and runs to the lecture hall to fetch both of your backpacks. He takes you back to your dorm and gets you a snack without asking a single question. He deems your own room too depressing for you to stay in so he brings you to the kitchen. He observes you carefully until he's sure you're fine.
“I know you don't trust me to help you,” he sighs and regret washes over you like a wave, “forget about the rest of your classes today, get some rest. I'll go back now-” He reaches for his backpack when you speak up.
“Hyunjin- wait.” He says nothing, but just looks at you, wanting you to continue.
“Stay,” you say, your eyes still burn from the crying and you don't want to feel alone anymore, “please.”
He sighs and sets the backpack down.
“I don't want you to tell me everything, but I can't help if I have no idea what's wrong.”
He lets you reach out to hug him, you ignore all the confusing feelings in the back of your head.
“I'm sorry. Even talking about it reminds me of the details. And that usually ends up worse than what happened a few minutes ago.”
“Mhm.” His hand pats down your messed up hair and you don't remember a touch ever being this comforting.
“It's my dad. I met him a couple days ago, he tried to get me to stay around because apparently he doesn't wanna die alone. But I refused and walked out. He resorted to his old behavior and flooded my texts with all the things he always keeps saying about me. About how I'm useless, no good at anything I do, disrespectful and not worthy of any love and things like that. It got to me more than it should have, but hey, I finally blocked him.”
“I'm proud of you for doing that. And let me tell you something. You're incredibly good at everything you do. You're so smart, and such a good dancer. I was so jealous of you when I first met you.” He says, and you believe him despite your brain saying he's lying to you.
“Your friends all love you so much. Would you really let a man with no company tell you whether you deserve love or not?”
“But I haven't earned it. I've done nothing to deserve that love.” He makes a disbelieving sound at the statement.
“Love isn't something you have to earn, it's something that is given out of will. And if someone gives you their love without you asking for it. Then you certainly deserve it. Whoever tries to tell you otherwise is lying to you, ok? It took me a while to understand this but trust me. It's the truth.” You nod into his shoulder before you break the hug to look at him.
“Since when do you care about me, huh?” You joke, not even expecting an answer but he gives you one.
“Since when? I don't know. All I know is I care about you a lot. I don't like seeing you hurt. Which, again, makes me feel guilty as fuck for acting like I did to you. I don't know why I was so selfis-”
“Shh, it's in the past now, we're even. I don't mind having you around now.”
“Is that you being soft for me darling?” There goes his teasing, this warrants the punch in the rib you give him. He grunts in response but laughs anyway.
“Would you find it funny if I ask you for cuddles right now?” You say, and he looks surprised, but happy nonetheless.
“I'd find it adorable.” You drag him to your bed.
“We need to make your room look less depressing after this okay?” He says and you nod before you let yourself fall on top of him, getting an ‘oof’ in reply before he arms come up to hold you.
You feel puzzled about this whole situation with him and matter how much you like it, you need to clarify it.
“Hey, Hyunjin?” He hums.
“This, whatever it is, do you want it? Should we like, talk about it?” He doesn't get angry like you expected him to, but replies calmly.
“I like whatever it is. If you wanna talk about it, we should. I'm not sure I even have a name for it though.”
“I don't have one either. I don't really understand feelings. But I don't want this to stop. Do you?”
“No. No I don't.”
“Minho knows something's up with us.”
“I know, I've seen him looking at us suspiciously, though I don't think he hates it though.”
“He's my insurance. Just know he'll murder if you decide to become a bitch to me again.”
“I won't. Promise.”
☆
You're both up before the other occupants of your dorm come back with Jisung inevitably tagging along. When Minho comes back the first thing he does is check up on you. You tell him about the little breakdown and Hyunjin helping you. He stares at Hyunjin for a good minute as if gauging him for signs of danger but then shrugs and thanks him.
You explain your complicated relationship with your father in minimal detail to the other two boys just so they don't worry too much in uncertainty. It is decided that everyone will go out together to eat and celebrate the upcoming winter break.
You don't go home for winter break, but Felix and Minho do, so does Jisung, so it's just you and Hyunjin together for Christmas. You don't hate the prospect.
Two days after the three boys are gone you two decide it's better staying in one place than continuously having to meet each other to prepare for the celebration. You don't hate this either.
Hyunjin is fun to be around, he's hilarious on top of being beautiful, you're almost sure you have feelings for him, feelings of what sort and how deep, that you don't know. Maybe you'll add one more poem about it to the collection that has been growing everyday.
You learn he's much more affectionate than you thought he'd be, he's almost always close to you. He isn't clingy per se, but he's always close. Like right now.
You're trying one of Minho’s recipes and he has got you convinced there's flour on your face, though you're sure you've added more flour to your face in your attempts to remove the original bit because he's laughing like you're a clown.
“Hyunjin if you're not helping I'm going to the bathroom to wash it off-”
“Wait.” He cups your face and swipes his thumb at your jaw to get the first bit off, he's closer than he needs to be, though you don't think you care. The second bit of flour is on your forehead apparently, that's where his hand is even though his eyes are on your lips. You're almost certain he wants to kiss you. So you do the next reasonable thing.
Put flour on his nose and run.
“Hey! Not fair!” He tries to catch you but fails, and like you're toddlers, a game of chase starts.
“Come back here!” He laughs and you return it.
“Nope. Not coming back there.” You run up to Lix's room.
“Alright have it your way.” He grabs a pillow and before you can tell him no, you're in the middle of a pillow fight. He tries to hit you on the head but misses, and your pillow lands square in his face. He recovers soon after though, and somehow manages to snatch away your pillow and pin you down on the bed.
You're both dizzy with laughter. “All I wanted was a kiss! The betrayal! I want payback!” He complains like the dramatic toddler he is. “Well deal with it Hwang. You're not getting any kisses on Lix’s bed, have some shame.” You push him off in a moment of weakness and take off again.
“NOT AGAIN!”
“The stuff in the oven will burn dumbass!”
The dinner is made and eaten without incident, thankfully. You make Hyunjin sleep in Felix's room, being pretty doesn't give him an automatic ticket to yours, you like occupying all the space by yourself.
☆⋆｡°☆
You're cold. Too cold. It's almost as if the coldness has seeped into your bones. With every moment the pressure on your body increases, you feel like you're drowning, when your eyes open all you see is a distorted sheet of blue. You are drowning. Your body is slowly sinking deeper. The pressure is pressing down on your brain and your ribs, you call for help but your words aren't heard, not even by you. You scream but no sound escapes your watery prison, you strain your throat with how hard you're trying to make a sound, to scream for help-
You wake hyperventilating, like you always do from this same nightmare. It takes you a good minute to catch your breath.
The next thing you do is calculate how much self respect you can sacrifice from your dwindling resources to fall asleep again. Because you certainly won't be able to sleep alone for the rest of the night.
His door’s open. Maybe disturbing him a little wouldn't hurt? Well that would be the case if he were sleeping.
“Are you fucking nocturnal?” You say, and you watch him jump and the phone fall from his hand.
“God who even lurks in the dark like that? How do you not make a sound? Are you a vampire?”
“I dunno. Instincts. Not a vampire though, sadly. Why’re you up?”
“Can't sleep. You?”
“Stupid dream.” You seat yourself beside him. You both seem to have something against sleeping properly.
“Wanna talk about it?” He's put his phone down, you notice.
“Only if you tell me why you never sleep.” He contemplates for a moment then shrugs.
“No details but nights never meant good things for me growing up. I'm a light sleeper and on the bad days even footsteps wake me up. Sometimes I can't sleep at all.” He shrugs.
“I can sleep most nights, but I have this recurring dream where I'm drowning for some reason. I can't sleep after waking up from that one. Why are nights bad for you? Memories?”
“Yeah. I don't like talking about it.”
“You wanna try going back to sleep or you wanna do something else?” You ask.
“I’d go back to sleep but it seems impossible now.” You don't remember ever relating to him as much as you do right now.
“C'mere.” You gesture to the space beside you, to your surprise he doesn't protest. “Talk to me about anything until it's morning or one of us starts feeling sleepy.” And he does. Your discussion goes from fiction to emotions to the way people behave and then back to anime then to art to poetry and then what not. But when you wake up, there's so much light in the room that you're almost sure it's noon. And you can't move.
“Hyunjin. Wake up.” He doesn't. “Hyunjin! You stupid ferret, get off me.” He budges a little at that. So much for claiming to be a light sleeper huh? You need to push him off of you before you can get up and check the time.
11:40 am. Wow. That's a solid 7 hours of sleep.
You get up to clean up and find something to eat. By the time you shower and dig into your bowl of cereal, Hyunjin finds his way to the kitchen with a puffy face. Adorable.
“Good Morning, ferret. Sleep well?” You joke.
“Very well actually, why're you eating cereal…. sitting on the table?”
“I dunno,” you shrug, “seemed fun.”
You're never witnessed an actually groggy Hyunjin before this and it's hilarious. He's dazed and almost hit his head on the counter. Thrice. It's almost surprising that he manages to get himself water without breaking anything.
“You left me alone.” He complains when you're done washing your cereal bowl.
“Well I'm sorry but I had to. I was hungry.”
“No fair.” In a few seconds you discover handling the weight of a tall guy is quite a task. Is it a hug or are you being crushed to death? You're not sure. “Ok I'm sorry let me breathe please!”
You can finally breathe when he lets go of you, “Now go shower. Your breath’s nasty.” He doesn't reply but just messes up your hair before running off.
☆⋆｡°☆
You should have known. Maybe you can't let good things happen to yourself without attempting to destroy them.
“You're not the brightest outside class, are you Hwang?” You're watching him struggle with figuring out what spice is what.
“You only say that cuz you're jealous of my class smarts.” He rolls his eyes at you.
“Oh please, you were behind me by a whole grade in two classes last semester.”
“That wasn't my 100%, I had stuff to deal with.”
“All excuses, aren't they?”
“Everything is a competition for you isn't it?” He sounds disappointed but you're not the bigger person.
“Isn't it for you too?”
“No it isn't. Forgive me for not wanting to compete for everything in my life.”
“Why? Scared?” The conversation escalates before you realize it and you blame your tendency to argue with him.
“Why are you so obsessed with being the best?” He's no longer calm.
“You tell me. You were the one mocking me for always being second for a whole damn year!”
“Oh come on, there's more to it! Why are you so fragile about it?”
“You and your taunts are all there is to it and I'm reacting like anyone would. Why were you so insistent on beating me in everything?”
“Oh, come on! There's definitely stuff you're not saying, why can't you open up to me?”
“I don't want to say anything. Why the fuck do you even want me to open up to you?”
“Because I want to fix this!”
“And why does fixing it matter?”
“Because I like you god damn it! Are you that dumb?”
“Bullshit. You suddenly like me after a whole year of hating me huh?”
“Why else do you think I'm doing this? Why else would I agree to this?”
“Maybe cuz it'd make for a very funny scenario don't you think? ‘Hey look at them developing feelings for me just because we stopped trying to kill each other’ sounds hilarious doesn't it?” You don't even know where all this is coming from but you never completely ruled out the prospect of all this being an act on his side.
He didn't think so, that much is visible on his face when you finally find the guts to look at him. Fuck. You just can't stop hurting people in your life huh?
“I'm sorry.” You apologize before you turn to leave, but he doesn't let you. Instead of being angry like you thought he'd be, he just pulls you into a hug. The gesture does something to you that you can't quite figure out.
“Let go of me.” You don't want him to, but you can't find the courage to face this. You're too weak.
“No. I'm not letting you go anywhere.”
“I don't deserve this Hyunjin. Staying for me will get you nowhere. You're stupid if you-”
“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.”
“You… what?” That's not a confession one would expect out of him. But you can't say you didn't do the same.
“You heard me. And I'm not letting you leave without even trying.” You've never heard so much emotion in his voice, even in the few months that you both spent together, you're sure his eyes would be glossy if you look at him now. So you don't.
“But-”
“We need to sort this out, yeah? You can't keep running from everything.”
Your tears always choose the worst time to appear.
“I'm so fucking sorry, I didn't-, I'm not…… used to feeling this way ok?”
“I know. And that's fine. I never expected this to be easy. It's okay.”
“I'm sorry I- I want to trust you. I want to. But it's so difficult..”
“I don't blame you. We both barely know about the things that we had to deal with. Trust doesn't happen without communication does it? That's why we need to talk to each other. About everything. Even the stuff we don't like sharing. Nothing will work without that, right?”
It feels like he knows how to take your jumbled up mess of thoughts and feelings and make sense of it in ways you don't even understand. So you talk, about everything you don't like sharing, about your fears and their origins, about the troubles you have with trusting people, about the insecurities you relate to your image, about the pressure you keep putting on yourself to be the best there is and why you do so.
And he does too, about the way he feels out of control of everything and why that happens, how it feels like an obligation to put his own feelings aside and live by the reputation expected of him, about why loud footsteps or just loud sounds scare him, why yelling brings back bad memories, how he feels like he's carrying a heavy weight from his past along with him wherever he goes, how his coping mechanisms have caused both of you damage.
And by the end of the conversation it doesn't feel so difficult to trust him anymore. He wouldn't hurt you, not on purpose at least. If he does, well, maybe you want to take the chance. For the sake of it. Maybe you don't hate the feeling of vulnerability.
“If I fuck this up,” you look at him as you speak, “promise me you'll leave.”
“You won't. I know.”
“I hope you're right. I'm sorry for being so stupid.”
“If we want this to work the first thing you'll have to do is stop apologizing for everything.” It's almost like you're a toddler being scolded.
“I'm sorr-”
“Not again.”
“Shit my bad-”
“Hey!”
“Okay! I get it! No saying sorry for everything.”
“Good.”
You like his hugs. They're warm. But you also like chaos. So you pinch his waist, the boy is dramatic, of course he jumps and looks at you with the most disbelieving wide eyes.
“What was that for?”
“That was for being stupidly pretty.”
“So we're doing compliments now, darling?” He's never gonna stop doing this is he?
“If you use the tease voice I'll pinch you harder I swear.”
“Not sure I'd mind,” before he can finish the sentence though, you have him trapped between your arms and the dinner table, he seems quite happy with it, “you seem to like me quite a lot, don't you darling?”
“And? What if I do?”
☆⋆｡°☆
Your roommates expected to find stuff when they returned from their homes, but stuff definitely didn't include you and Hyunjin arguing over who gets the last piece of cake. The fight seemed…. unserious.
They definitely didn't expect it to end in you and him sharing the last bit. You and Hyunjin. Sharing. Unheard of.
The real surprise came when they were done unpacking. You caught Felix in his room.
“Hey Lix, guess what?” Poor sweet soul of his, already interested in what you have to say.
“What?”
“I'm dating someone.”
“WHAT? Who?!”
“Try guessing.” He looks confused but attempts nonetheless.
“Soyeon?”
“Look I mentioned her being hot one time. That don't mean I'm dating her.”
“Then who?”
“Who did I spend winter with?” He gives you a look that says ‘bitch tf’.
“Oh come on. I may be a little clueless but there's no fucking way you're dating Hwang Hyunjin.”
“Oh yeah? Why don't you go ask him? He's explaining the same thing to Minho right now.”
You find them in the kitchen, and as you expected, Minho looks like it's a normal day for him. No surprise at all.
Felix however, is quite close to losing it.
“Hyunjin. Tell me they're making a fool of me.” He says, but Hyunjin stays silent and you fear Felix is actually on the brink of insanity.
“What the fuck.” It's almost a whisper when he says it. Both you and Hyunjin cannot hold back your laughter. Their reaction was exactly what you predicted.
Minho is the one who speaks up next.
“Come on, Lix. These two weren’t even that subtle. Where'd you think Hyunjin got that hickey from? Just a few weeks after these two stopped fighting? Why do you think I insisted on leaving them alone together?”
You knew it was his plan. How else would you end up alone with Hyunjin at the most convenient times ever?
“Lee Minho you little fucker, you better sleep with one eye open.” You joke.
“Look at how ungrateful you are. I helped you and you give me death threats? Betrayal,” he's smiling at you, when he turns to Hyunjin however, he looks murderous, “if I hear you hurt my best friend in any way, the world will run out of places for you to hide in. Trust me on that.”
“Enough Min, you'll scare away my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend huh? That felt nice to say.
“Now who's gonna tell Jisung?”
“Let's all just head to his dorm. Help the boy with unpacking too.”
“You seem keen on meeting him, Min. What's the matter?” The question only gets you elbowed in the rib.
Jisung's reaction is as loud as you anticipated but he doesn't seem too surprised, you ask him why.
“Oh Hyunjin always rants about things, I'm his roommate, I figured something was up with you.”
Later, when you have your boyfriend to yourself, you decide to ask him about it.
“So, about what Jisung said”
“Don't believe him, I beg you.”
“Save the begging for other things, I'd say it's pretty plausible, considering you rant about a lot.”
“I do NOT monologue about my crushes, case closed.” Hyunjin really needs to control his fidgeting if he wants to get away with lying.
You cup his face, “Why are you denying it? It's adorable.”
“Not funny?”
“Maybe a little funny.” The urge to kiss his nose is strong, so you don't fight it. You die a little when he scrunches up his face on reflex.
He's adorable and maybe you're a little obsessed.
“I can't believe cornering you somewhere is all it takes to make you blush!” You laugh, because you have him cornered right now. Against his desk this time.
“It is not!” He defends himself to no avail, it makes you laugh, you're growing increasingly fond of him.
“Such a pretty liar, huh? Quit trying to deny it, love.” That's the first affectionate nickname you've given him. And its effect is visible, if the smile on his face is anything to go by.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“How demanding.” But you do it anyway. And he takes it forward, like he does everytime, this time you're not confused. You want him. He wants you. And it's the best feeling ever. If he walks out of this room with hickeys later on, you don't need to act clueless. He's yours.
But with the way his lips attach to your skin, maybe you'll be the target of your friends’ judgemental glances as well this time. You don't mind. You're his.
If Jisung comes knocking now you're pretty sure you won't hear it over Hyunjin. The boy is sensitive.
☆
“Maybe getting those two together was a bad idea, I can hear them and I'm sitting in a different room!”
“Leave them alone, let's go to ours. We can't keep sitting here any longer like we're not hearing anything.”
☆⋆｡°☆
Hwang Hyunjin, how you love him and how his existence is a slap in the face of your father. He's everything good. But first off he's yours. And he loves you. Maybe clay doesn't need to be broken to be fixed, maybe if you just paint over the fingerprints and love the shapes as they are, you'll see some beauty in it. Hyunjin sees beauty in you that's for sure, he never seems to get tired of drawing you, being someone's muse is a wonderful feeling. He's your muse as well though, with the entire collection of writings he's prompted by simply existing. You recited some to him one day, maybe you'll give him a handwritten version of the rest on his birthday.
☆
You think it's ironic, you're back where you started, movie night in your dorm. Only this time you're tangled up with Hyunjin and the three boys are in a weird heap of limbs. Whatever they are, they're your friends. You're not gonna judge.
But they will definitely keep judging the PDA Hyunjin makes them all witness.
“You're both disgusting!” It's Jisung, and he's pulled back to sit by a worked up Felix. “He meant disgustingly cute!”
“Why are you running damage control? They are disgusting.” That's Minho, just trying to eat his pudding.
This is how you like stuff, cozy, homelike, and a little bit silly.
☆
“HWANG HYUNJIN DID YOU EAT THE LAST CUPCAKE?”
“I didn't know it was yours!” You will chase him around the place until you get payback. You can hear the other boys laughing their asses off at how terrified Hyunjin is.
He tries to take off in the opposite direction of you but is a few seconds late.
“Caught ya! Now apologize!” You pinch his ear and his yelp is the most amusing thing for Jisung, it seems.
“Ow! I'm sorry your majesty! I will never touch your food again.” You almost think you've won before he runs off. You catch him again, obviously. This time in your room.
“You little thief Hwang, I hate you.” You're out of breath and you're laughing. “Hate and love, same thing aren't they, darling?” He will never stop with that teasing tone.
“Hmm, maybe you need a better lesson. You're lucky you're pretty, love.” His hair is messed up and he's slightly out of breath, there's a lopsided grin on his face. He's probably the prettiest being to ever exist.
You lean close and the expression on his face shifts a little, he looks a little doubtful, uncertain, almost vulnerable.
“Do you really want me?” He wants you to affirm it, to assure him.
“You know I do.”
☆⋆｡°☆
#skz#stray kids#kpop#hyunjin#stray kids x reader#skz fluff#hyunjin x reader#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz hyunjin#skz scenarios#skz x you#stray kids imagine#skz imagine#stray kids au#skz fanfic#hwang hyujin imagines#hwang hyunjin
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Is That Blood? - Garrick Tavis
Request - “Is that blood?” “No?” “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question" I just see all sides of him here with this one lol
Requests Open.
Masterlist
The walk down the stairs was slow and rough. Every step sending a jolt up my side. I hiss in pain as I step down to a step ever so slightly lower than the other. Damn these stairs up the side of this mountain. I should have called out for help, but the rest of my patrol had rushed off, eager to get to bed after a long day. None of them aware I had been injured in the group of Venin we had encountered. Luckily the knife that had been imbedded in my side had not gone in far. But enough I needed medical attention. And this late at night I knew there would be no healers awake. Guess a home DIY job would have to do till morning.
I finally stumble into the courtyard, my footsteps echoing louder than normal as I make my way over to another set of stairs. At least this time I would have a wall to brace against on my way up. I was honestly surprised I hadn’t fallen to my death as I’d hobbled down the others. With one hand braced on the wall, I start my ascent up to the fifth floor where my room was located in the barracks. After a few steps, I realise up was a lot harder than going down. Every time I raise my left leg, I can’t help the groan that escapes my lips. Only four more floors of this. Great.
My foot catches on one of the stairs, sending me sprawling forward as I brace myself on my hands and knees as I land on the landing. Least I hadn’t landed on more stairs. Bracing myself on the wall, I manage to pull myself upright before leaning against it and shutting my eyes. Breath in. Breath out. I can do this. Only three more floors to go. I push off the wall and open my eyes to continue my journey, but a figure in the archway leading towards the family quarters has me jumping back, a yelp escaping my lips. The figure steps forward into the moonlight illuminating the stairway through an open window. I should have known who it was without it. No one was as tall or big as he was, even his curly hair recognisable in the dark. Garrick. His eyes furrow as they look over me, before focusing where my hand clutches my side.
”Is that blood?” He asks me gruffly as he steps forward again.
I look down to see my fingers are stained red from where blood has seeped through. Shit.
”No?” I say, it coming out as more of a question than an answer.
Garrick cock’s his eyebrow at me. “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”
”Maybe I’m starting a new trend?” I say with a sheepish grin.
I can instantly tell Garrick is not impressed with my answer with the deadpan look he gives me, his tell-tale jaw tick indicating his annoyance. But I can see him fighting a smile as the corners of his mouth ever so slightly curl at the edges.
”And how’s that going for you?” He asks before bending down and scooping me up into his arms before walking us up the stairs.
I brace for the pain to worsen with my wound pressed up against Garrick, but it doesn’t. If anything, the pain lessens. I look up at him confused, but Garrick’s stare is set firmly ahead as he walks us up the stairs.
”It’s going great, can’t you tell.” I huff as I settle into his arms, laying my head on his shoulder.
”Oh I can tell. Cause bleeding all over the stairs is the epitome of great.” His tone a mix of joking and serious.
”I was not bleeding all over the stairs. I had it contained.” I mutter.
I feel Garrick’s chest rise with silent laughter, containing his usual booming laugh as we walk into a corridor that does NOT lead to my room. My room was another two floors up. Where the hell was he taking me? He walks us past the assigned rooms and through an archway to another area of Riorson House. More private rooms. He pushes open a door and instantly I’m hit with Garrick’s scent. This was his room. Just like most Rider’s rooms it was pretty bare, only the necessities, but there were little bits of Garrick here and there. I barely get to take in the room before he’s kicking the main door closed and walking me towards an archway. He quickly places me on the counter in the adjoining bathroom, before walking back into his room. He returns quickly with a first aid kit, already pulling out bandages, cleaning supplies and some needle and thread.
”Take you’re jacket off.” He mumbles as he starts to set up his supplies.
I shrug off the jacket as best as I can, the pain now returning now I wasn’t in Garrick’s arms. He quickly grabs my flight jacket, placing it on an empty hook on the wall. I can’t help but wince as he gently lifts my shirt to observe the wound. I look down to see the skin around the would red and irritated, a slight purple colour to the edges. The knife had been coated in something. Garrick must have the same thought as he rushes from the room, quickly returning with a vial he holds out to me. A silent command to drink it, which I do quickly.
”Of course you would manage this after every healer here has gone to bed, and Brennan is away.” He mutters as he starts to clean the wound with a cloth and water.
”Not exactly like I planned for this to happen while out on patrol.” I tell him, wincing as cleans the edges of the cut.
He just shakes his head at me before grabbing the needle and thread from the counter. I turn away, opting to not look at Garrick stitch me back together. Sure I could do it to myself, but there was something about watching someone else do it that always made me uneasy. I brace for the all too familiar sting of the needle piercing the skin as Garrick places a hand just next to the wound. But it doesn’t come. All I can feel is a slight tug. Strange. I turn my head to look, and sure enough Garrick is stitching up the wound. But no pain. Not a single bit. And I know Garrick didn’t have anything to numb it. The vial he had given me was to treat the poison we knew the Venin used. It had no numbing or healing qualities to it. Was this his signet? I try to think of any instance of Garrick using a signet, and come up blank. In all the years I’ve known him, not once have I seen him do anything that could be explained by a signet. Till now. As if reading my mind, he removes his hand to help tie off the last stitch, and immediately I’m hit with the familiar dull throb of pain I associate with being stitched together. Garrick is silent as he starts to pack away the first aid kit, holding the bandage out to me to take. I grab it and quickly wrap it around myself, holding the padding in place in case any blood decided to seep through before I got to the healers in the morning. I place my hands on the counter to push myself off, planning on heading back to my room to sleep. But before I can Garrick scoops me up in his arms again, silently carrying me back to his room and placing me on his bed.
”If you just wanted me in your bed Garrick, all you had to do is ask.” I tease as he sits on the edge next to me.
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head, replying, "You're insufferable, you know that? Now get some rest. I'll get you to a healer in the morning." He stands up, but not before giving my hand a comforting squeeze.
Exhaustion pulls at me, but I manage a grin. "Only for you, Garrick." I murmur as I let sleep claim me. Garrick laughs softly at that, a sound that brings a strange sense of comfort. He watches over me for a moment longer before finally turning out the light and leaving me to rest.
#fourth wing fanfic#garrick tavis x reader#garrick tavis imagine#garrick tavis#fourth wing#the fourth wing#fourth wing x reader
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dance with me.
— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader
— type: ficlet
— summary: you & billy run into one another at the halloween party
— tags: dancing, billy pining
— tw: drinking
— word count: 2,390
— a/n: this is an outtake from my thoroughfare series. i know it prob doesn't make much sense for it to be, as this takes place at the end of october, & that series clearly takes place in the middle of summer, & i stated in it that billy had only been in hawkins 2 months before he & reader ran away. but we're going to pretend like it fits anyway lol.
if any of this is inaccurate to what happened during the ep which featured the halloween party, it's bc it's been a few yrs since i watched season 2.
pay attention for an easter egg (song they dance to)!
You have half-a-mind to turn back around and go back home. But in no way is being there preferable, either. You’d vowed to yourself that you were going to have a good time tonight. Well, at the very least a halfway-decent one. Even if you were completely out of your depth—your comfort zone. You’d never gone to a party before. Solitude was where you thrived. Around other people you just sort of…froze up.
But, he’d been on a tear this last week. Had broken a couple of plates and a picture frame in a drunken fury just two nights ago. You needed a night away—just a few hours—a reprieve. Even if it was going to be surrounded by other drunks. At least these were fellow kids, if nothing else. And they wouldn’t be wanting to take things out on you if it turned out alcohol didn’t suit them. Unlike someone else.
You glance to Nancy at your side, then to the domicile ahead—thumping music blaring loud enough that you can hear it from the sidewalk—and silently follow along behind her as the two of you head inside.
Once you’ve passed the threshold, she turns back to you. “I’m going to look for Steve! He should be here already!” She yells over the deafening rock music.
“Want me to help and look for him, too?”
She nods fervently, and the two of you split up.
You make your way through throngs of people—couples making out, friends joking with one another; a boy who’s already half-drunk nearly spilling his beer on you—before you spot a door leading into the backyard.
Unless he’s outside…Nancy may very-well have to find him all on her own, because you were absolutely not going back in there just to be squished between sweaty, hormonal adolescent bodies again.
Perhaps this was a mistake.
That opinion only cements itself further when you step onto the back patio, shutting the door firmly behind you, and look straight ahead to see Billy Hargrove doing a keg-stand as a crowd of your peers stand around him chanting “chug, chug, chug, chug!”. He stands back on two feet once again, puckering his lips, spitting beer into the air and you roll your eyes. Those surrounding him start cheering and patting him on the back.
Like getting drunk is something to celebrate.
And of course he’s shirtless. Because a leather jacket and jeans is obviously a Halloween costume.
Just as you begin to turn away, arms now crossed, wondering if you shouldn’t now go back inside, Billy stops licking his lips, and laughing, or so much as paying attention to the other obnoxious idiots surrounding him when he sets eyes on you.
Why the hell were you wearing pajamas to a damn Halloween party? Was that really supposed to constitute being a costume? Then again, he shouldn’t be complaining. You’re not wearing bottoms. He suddenly decides he likes whoever the hell the character is.
He shoves past those around him—which even includes numerous girls with hearts in their eyes—and makes his way over to you instead.
He grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to him as he stares down at you with a smirk. “Well, well, look who it is.”
His eyes trail from your bare legs, back to your eyes, and you feel ready to squirm away from his grip.
He cocks his head to the side then. “Who the hell are you dressed as, anyway?”
You pull your arm away from him. “Audrey Hepburn. Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”
He raises a brow. “Uh-huh.”
You shrug. “She was an actress. Before our time.”
He gives you a sultry look. “Well, whoever she was, she was clearly one hot chick.”
You blink up at him for a moment.
“What? Not going to try and guess who I am?”
He watches as your eyes trail along his body and his jaw clenches at the sight of you taking him in. He hopes you like what you see.
Until you gaze back up to him with an indifferent look on your face, the fire quickly extinguished.
“I feel like you just wanted an excuse to walk around shirtless.”
A corner of his mouth tugs down in a frown. “You’re one to talk.”
“I have a shirt on.”
He glances down to your legs, then back into your eyes with a raised brow. “Somebody specific you’re trying to catch the attention of tonight, sweetheart?”
He leans an arm against the side of the house.
“Not really,” you reply looking behind him.
“C’mon, one guess. Maybe I’ll reward you if you get it right.”
You look back at him then, and he can’t believe he’s actually piqued your interest with that.
“Do I get to choose the prize?”
He heart skips a beat. “Anything you want, darlin’.”
You study him again. “Let me guess… A greaser, from The Outsiders?”
He licks his lips. “But which one?”
It’s so incredibly obvious. At least to you. “Dallas?”
“Winner, winner,” he says, leaning the least bit toward you. “So, what’s that pretty lil’ heart desire?”
“Stop pulling my hair in class.”
He snorts. “That’s likely.”
You roll your eyes. Waste of time, clearly.
“He was damn good in that movie, wasn’t he?” He just throws it out there to keep you a bit longer.
“Hm?” You ask, looking behind him again.
“Matt Dillon.”
You look back at him and he could swear you blush a little. On the one hand, maybe he should feel flattered since he’d dressed as his character. On the other, it’s clearly the actor that you have the hots for. Not him. No, never fucking him. Why does he try so goddamn hard with you?
“The book was better. But Matt certainly made the movie worth watching,” you say with a smile.
He frowns. “What? No love for my man, Ponyboy?” The blond, he wants to say, but doesn’t.
You glance behind him again.
“If you’re lookin’ for fun, I’m right here, honey,” he says, smirking.
“I’m looking for Steve, actually.”
His smile drops instantly, arms crossing. “The hell do you want with him?”
You glance back to Billy for just a moment. “Stay golden, Billy,” you stay, going to step past him, until he grabs your wrist.
You look down to where he’s now touching you. Gently, but firmly, then back up to him. “Let go.”
He sneers. “The fuck is it with you, huh? I mean, what is it with him? What does he have that-” He stops himself short and watches as your brows furrow.
Too much. He’d drank too much.
“You realize he’ll never go for you, right? Too stuck up Nancy’s bony-ass instead.”
Did…did he think you liked Steve? Oh God…did Nancy ever think that as well? “I’m trying to help Nancy find him.”
He softens a little, thumb rubbing against your wrist. “I say we leave her to it, then.”
His smirk returns and you mentally groan at whatever is about to come out of his smart mouth.
“How about you and I take off and go make our own party?”
You roll your eyes, wrenching your wrist away. “I’d really rather not.”
He watches as you walk away, enjoying the view.
It’s perhaps an hour later before Billy finally bothers coming inside, looking for a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, and it’s after he’s found one that he enters the living room and catches sight of you sitting on the couch, staring up at Nancy and Steve wrapped around each other, talking.
His jaw clenches at the longing look in your eyes. Like Steve is something fucking special to be had.
He has no idea it’s just you thinking of how lonely you feel in comparison; wishing you had someone of your very own to love.
He glances down to your hands, a red solo cup held between them, then back to you. Getting drunk to soothe your aching fucking heart, huh?
He takes a swig of his beer, thinking that it makes two of you.
He pushes past others to get to you, before plopping down beside you on the couch. And you don’t even bother looking at him.
Meanwhile, at least three other girls are eyeing him up from across the room. He doesn’t so much as wink at them before turning back to you.
He grabs the cup from your hands, which finally gets your attention.
“Hey!”
He takes a drink, then holds it away from him with a confused expression before shoving it back against your chest. “Water? Really? You come to a party and get yourself a cup of water, you’re that big of a fucking square?”
You roll your eyes, taking a sip.
He swirls the neck of his beer bottle in front of your face. “C’mon, try some, sweetheart. Might like it.”
“No, thanks,” you say, looking back to your friends.
He pushes his luck further. “Never know how good somethin’ can taste until you’ve put it in your mouth.”
You groan in frustration, standing, heading back outside then, just wanting him to leave you alone.
He of course follows you out, watching as you seat yourself at a table on the back patio, resting your chin against your fist, watching others dance.
He considers for a moment, taking another drink, then setting the bottle on the table, holding his hand toward you. “Dance with me.”
Your head jerks up and in his direction then. “What?”
He shrugs. “One-time offer, sweetie.”
You glance down to his hand, then back up to him.
He grows serious then. “Just dance with me. Please.”
This side of him you don’t get to see often. And you think the same thing now about it as you usually do when he shows it to you: you feel like, somehow, you’re the only one he gives it to. You’re unsure why, exactly. But you don’t dare ask.
Instead, you slide your palm into his—you could swear his hand is shaking a little—and he leads you into the middle of the yard.
Just as he positions the two of you in the middle of it, the song changes. Bob Dylan humming the beginning of the tune.
Billy rolls his eyes, staring upward. “Of course it changed to a fucking slow song.”
…And you know the moment is over.
You go to step away, until he twines his fingers between yours, pulling you back to him. “I didn’t say to leave.”
You’re not sure why you’re even giving him the time of day, but granting him moments like these, you feel, are important. He’s trying. To be decent. And if you shut it down—these moments are already rare enough as it is—he’ll one day stop trying altogether. You hope this can be a step toward him being just a bit more mature going forward. To you, if no one else.
You go to wrap your arms around his neck until he shakes his head. “None of that junior-high shit. You’re dancing with a man, not a boy.”
You stare up at him at the statement.
He positions your right hand atop his shoulder, taking your other in his left, placing his right against the small of your back. “Need to be a bit closer, doll,” he says, pulling you toward him, making you now chest-to-chest.
You ignore your heart beating just a bit faster now.
He begins to sway back and forth, staring down at you. The look in his eyes that of…tenderness? No. He’s just tired, or he’s drank too much. He’s not looking at you any kind of way. Is he?
He then presses his forehead to yours. “You look really pretty tonight. I don’t think I told you that.”
His eyes flutter closed.
You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Thank you,” you reply quietly. You return the compliment. “You look very handsome.”
His lip twitches. “Me or Dillon?”
You shake your head lightly. “You, Billy.”
He hums his response, fingers at the small of your back curling inward, bringing you impossibly closer to him.
He pulls back the least bit, resting his cheek atop your head, closing his eyes again with you tucked under his chin, your head against his chest. He could stay like this for… He can’t think like that. It’s just one short dance. That’s all. It means nothing.
Until he looks down at you again.
And you look up at him with wide eyes.
His heart pounds, his hand shaking in yours as he begins to lean down. If you let him… This could be the start of something. Even if he knows he’ll do anything he can to destroy it. Because that’s what he does. To anything good he touches.
Your breaths come in short and shallow, your lips only slightly parted, your heart fluttering… And then you hear someone calling your name.
And the moment is over.
Billy stares behind you, expression morphing into seething hatred. “Always fucking ruining everything,” you hear him mutter.
Your brows furrow. “What?”
He lets go of you then, stepping past you.
“Y/N, hey, it’s time to go. Nancy’s ready to head home, so I thought I’d give you a ride, too.”
Steve then catches sight of Billy, who’s heading straight toward him and does not look happy.
“What the fuck is it with you? Always in the goddamn way. I’ve fuckin’ had it! If she wants a ride home, I’ll give her one. She doesn’t need her white fuckin’ knight right now.”
Just as Billy raises his fist, Steve unable to do anything more than brace for impact, you quickly throw yourself between the two of them before he swings.
You stare up at him, arms outstretched on either side of you, trying to shield Steve, knowing—rather, hoping—Billy won’t do anything so long as you—or, at the very least, a girl—is in the way.
Billy stares down at you, teeth clenched, fist hovering next to his head, then glances back to Steve.
“Billy, don’t,” you say softly.
He squeezes his fist more tightly.
“What’s wrong with you?” You ask, a mere whisper.
His face falls, then, as well as his fist. He swallows thickly. His eyes search yours, looking for the girl he’d had in his arms just moments ago, but sees she’s taken another’s side now.
“Fuck you,” he says before stomping away.
#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x you#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x you#stranger things x reader
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How Did It End? (C. Alcaraz)
Author's Note: If you know the song, it only kind of follows the song, but this has been an idea circulating in my mind for a while. I want to say more, but then it would spoil the ending, so please read!!! Let me know what you think :)
Word Count: 6.9k
Warnings: brief mentions/allusions to death
Taking a deep breath, you walked into the coffee shop. Despite being a mutual friend and getting good references from the in-between friend, it’s still nerve-wracking going on a blind date. Well, it was only a semi-blind date. You’ve met him before, and you stalked his Instagram after briefly setting up a time and date with him.
Carlos Alcaraz.
The man of the moment in the tennis world.
A friend of a friend, who apparently, according to the mutual friend, has been asking about you. He’d been asking about you for the past couple of months, and the mutual friend finally decided to talk to you and talk up the man in question.
Carlos was a stupidly beautiful man. From his side profile to his hair to his legs, he was an all-around beautiful man, and if your friend was telling the truth, he had a nice, funny, and great personality.
He seemed to be everything you’ve been looking for in a partner.
Once stepping inside, you moved to the side, wanting to people-watch and observe Carlos before walking up to him. He was standing near where the line for ordering and paying was ending, gesturing for people to get in line as he was waiting and not yet in line. He was nervous, pulling at the edge of his sleeves, playing with his watch.
Deciding to take him out of his misery, you walk towards Carlos. It was as if he could sense your presence because when you’re a few feet away, Carlos looks up. When his eyes meet yours, a big smile grazes his face.
“Hi, it’s nice to see you again,” Carlos says once he walks over to you.
“Likewise,” you smile. “Should we order?”
He nods. “I was super nervous and got here early, so I know what I want.”
You can’t help but chuckle. Damn, that was cute. Carlos was cute—in every measure of the word.
Maybe this date wouldn’t go so badly.
When you and Carlos get in line, neither of you says anything. The likely conclusion was that you were focusing on what to order and Carlos was respecting that, but the nerves in your body were circulating like crazy, so maybe the nerves were part of the reason why you couldn’t put any words together to say anything.
The heat reflecting off of Carlos’ body onto you is indescribable, and you can’t help but fan yourself as your body grows in warmth at his proximity.
Thankfully, the wait in line isn’t long, and you don’t have to find something to say that isn’t along the lines of, “Your body is so warm that it’s making me overheat, but in a good way.”
Carlos gestures for you to go ahead, and as you walk up to the cashier, you immediately feel iciness take over your body as you move away from him and his incredulous warmth.
“Hi, yes, can I get a . . .” you begin, picking out your desired coffee and two pastries.
“And, can I get a sweet iced lemon tea and the gluten-free, vegan chocolate-chip loaf, please,” Carlos says from behind you, and you’re suddenly very much aware of his body near yours. It’s so obvious that you can’t even begin to comprehend the insanity of Carlos’ order.
As the barista turns their screen around to show you the total and awaits your credit card’s tap, Carlos’ phone is quick, resting against the screen.
With a quick thank you, both you and Carlos move away from the line. “I could pay for myself, and us, by the way,” you mention, hoping you don’t sound snarky. You just wanted him to know that you were capable of it, that’s all.
He nods. “Next time. Do you want to sit at that table?” He’s gesturing towards a little corner table.
“Sure.”
When you both take a seat, an awkwardness overtakes the two of you. Now, there’s no excuse of reading a menu to use as the reason for the silence. You try not to let yourself get disappointed. After all, chemistry isn’t always instant, and quick, easy banter isn’t always natural. Sometimes, it takes getting to know someone before that conversation easily flows and ebbs. You were hoping (more like begging) that the latter would the situation with you and Carlos. He had a pull on you, and you wanted to discover that pull.
Thankfully, it’s only a few moments of silence before the barista calls out your order number, and Carlos is quick to tell you he can grab everything and bring it back to the table. You agree, but still get up, moving towards the napkins to grab a bunch.
“Your order is quite an enigma,” you tell him after taking a sip of your coffee.
“Enigma?”
“A mystery.”
He nods. “In what way?”
“No coffee?”
Carlos shakes his head, a smile gracing his face. “I think I add a lot of sugar to my coffee. I wouldn’t want you to think that I was a child on our first date.”
“So you got the tea?” you tease.
“Seemed like the safest option.”
“But the loaf? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Carlos chuckles, letting his deep laughter fill the space between the two of you.
“The drink has a lot of sugar in it, so I balanced it out,” he explains.
You shake your head, trying to hide the wide smile that’s trying to broach your face. “That’s kind of ridiculous.”
He shrugs. “It works for me.”
You’re looking down at your coffee, and when you look up at Carlos, you find him already staring at you, his dark eyes looking deeply at you. “So,” you start, clearing your throat from the intimacy and intensity of the situation. “Tell me about your family.”
. . .
“I’m one of four brothers,” he starts.
“Four? Your poor mother; the level of testosterone in your household must have been insane,” you joke, unable to stop a smile from crossing your face.
Again, he shrugs. Does he know how cute his shrug is? “I don’t know how to measure testosterone.”
Your forehead crinkles in amusement as you shake your head. He’s so effortlessly funny and adorable that you’re not sure he’s real. How can someone this attractive also be silly, funny, and adorable at the same time? He was a paradox—a paradox that you wanted to learn more about. “Don’t worry about it; it’s more of a vibe than it is something to measure,” you explain.
“A vibe,” he repeats, looking contemplative.
“Anyway, tell me more about your brothers,” you prompt.
Thinking about his brothers, Carlos’ eyes light up. It’s clear how much he loves his family. He gives you brief introductions to his brothers, throwing in small comments and stories about the four of them.
“Do you have pictures?” you ask, curious to see pictures of him growing up, beyond what you can find from stalking his Instagram or going deep in a Google Search.
“Sí, sí,” he answers, pulling out his phone. In a few photographs, he shows you his family, taking a brief moment to watch as you take his phone for a closer look.
“You have a cute family,” you say, smiling.
Carlos wanted to comment on you one day joining his family, but he wasn’t sure if that was too forward for a first date and if it would make him look creepy. So, he opted to give you a small smile with a curt nod. “Tell me about your family. I’ve been talking a lot.”
It took you a moment to try to find the right words, and when you did, you dove in about your family and loved ones, telling small anecdotes about your childhood and the past couple of years.
From there, the conversation flowed easily, with you and Carlos exchanging questions back and forth trying to get to know each other. Before either of you know it, the cafe is getting ready to close soon.
“I guess we should get out of here,” Carlos says, eyeing the barista starting to sweep on the other side of the establishment.
“Probably,” you reply, slowly getting out of your seat and collecting your trash.
“Did you want to go do something else?” Carlos prompts, hoping you’ll say yes but also that he’s not being too forward.
Glancing down at your phone, you notice the time and how it’s close to seven. “I want to, but I’ve got to get home and get some work done. I’ve got some assignments due soon. Maybe later this week or next?”
Despite how long you and Carlos spent talking, the conversation, surprisingly never reached the topic of his tennis or your academic studies and work.
“I have to leave for a tournament,” Carlos says, “but maybe when I get back and you’re in a lighter week of work and assignments?”
You smile. “I’d like that a lot.”
//
“What are you studying?” Carlos prompts you after you both receive your ice cream from the vendor and begin walking along a path in the park near your apartment.
You give him a small glare because he asked you the question right when you took a bite of your ice cream. When he catches your eye as you glare, he gives you a small smirk. After swallowing, you tell him what you’re studying.
“How did you decide upon that?” he asks.
“I kind of thought about what I didn’t want to do, and then from there, I looked at my options and used my personality and skills to find a path that I felt best suited me.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
You nod enthusiastically. “A lot, yeah.”
“Tell me about some of the classes you’re taking.”
With a deep breath, you dive into the classes you’re taking—from the ones that are focused on the major and career path to the ones that fulfill your general education requirements. You also fill in Carlos about your job and the extracurriculars you participate in in addition to your heavy course load.
“So, I should be honored that I’ve been put into your schedule more than once, considering how busy you are,” he jokes, but it’s clear that he’s sincere and is putting himself out there, showing you how important you are to him, despite only seeing each other for a month.
A short laugh escapes your lips. “Don’t let that go to your head. Regardless, you’re pretty busy with tennis, so if anything the honor should be mine. You travel a lot, and I kind of just stay here.”
“If it’s important, I’ll find the time for it,” Carlos says, no hint of teasing or flirting in his voice. He’s serious. You don’t want to look at him because you know his eyes are on you, and if the way your face is heating up from being under his gaze, you know his gaze is intense, making sure you understand fully the gravity of his words.
You can’t help it, though, and look at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes searching your face. He looks worried, as if he might have overstepped the unwritten and invisible line. Finally, the words leave your mouth, and you say, “I feel the same way.”
“Good,” he murmurs under his breath, barely above a whisper. It’s a surprise that you can hear his words. However, whenever you’re around Carlos, your senses are heightened and elevated, so it’s no wonder you’re acutely attuned to his words.
As if embarrassed, you and Carlos both turn away from each other, opting to look ahead as you both continue walking and eating your ice cream.
“Why tennis?” you voice, trying to ease and thin the intensity brewing between you and Carlos.
His eyes crinkle in line with the smile. Even though you’re only seeing his side profile, you can tell that he’s got a wide smile on his face. This might be only the second time that you and Carlos are meeting in person, but you can already tell that you’re falling fast and hard for this man. The past couple of weeks since the cafe date have been filled with you and Carlos communicating constantly. Between the memes and videos sent back and forth on Instagram to the actual, silly conversations conversed via text, there was no limit to reasons you could point to for Carlos being someone who you would want to keep seeing and potentially date further down the line.
“Rafael Nadal” is his reply with little to no explanation. “He was my hero growing up, and I wanted to play just like him. And as I started playing, I started to love the sport. It’s all I want to do, now.”
Your heart warms at his enthusiasm and love for the sport. It’s hard to find people who truly feel so passionately about something, and it’s admirable to see this trait in Carlos. “I’m glad that you have that.”
“Thank you,” Carlos says, giving you a small smile.
From there, the conversation stills, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It’s comfortable. It feels like if you say anything, it would be forcing a conversation that isn’t supposed to happen. Walking in silence is comfortable and unique and precious. You’re enjoying the peacefulness while walking with Carlos; it feels as if everything is right for the first time in a long time.
Now and then, while walking, Carlos (or is it you?) will accidentally (but is it?) bump his arm against yours or will accidentally (again, is it??) brush his hand against yours. At first, you thought it was because sometimes it’s difficult to perpetually walk in a straight line, and he apologized for the first couple of times, but when he kept doing it and stopped apologizing, you tried your hardest to hide a bashful smile at his small attempts at physical contact. He was trying, and it was cute. It was clear, too, that he had no idea if his attempts were working, and he didn’t know how to initiate anything—if the inability to look at you and his perpetual staring off into the distance were any indication.
You decided to take him out of his misery.
“Are you done with your ice cream? I’m going to toss mine in the trash up ahead; I can take yours,” you comment.
“Sure,” he replies, placing his empty container into yours for ease of throwing out. You try not to laugh at the way he made sure none of his fingers touched yours. When you looked up at him during the interaction, his eyes were hooded, and his cheeks were lightly dusted pink. You couldn’t tell if the pink was from the warmth of the day or from being around you; you were hoping it was the latter.
When you and Carlos approached the trash can, you broke formation, jogging slightly ahead to toss the trash. As you rejoined him, you made sure to have your arm parallel to his, with your hand close to his. Carlos has been the one to take the initiative in physical contact, so you decided to follow suit, attempting to reassure it wasn’t one-sided.
For a few minutes, now and then, you’d brush your hand against his, letting your pink finger gently graze his knuckles. The first few times you did the action, you could hear Carlos’ breath hitch. He was surprised and nervous, but it was cute.
Damn, Carlos was so cute; you couldn’t contain how cute he was, in every definition of the word beyond physicality.
You continued to tease him, trying to see how bashful he could get. Eventually, you decided to take him out of his misery when you noticed he stopped pointing out the ducks that he saw swimming in the adjacent lake or the little babies and toddlers in their strollers. In a swift motion, you linked your pinky finger with his, your thumb making soft circles on the back of his hand, across his knuckles.
You wanted to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to push Carlos beyond what he was comfortable with. So, you didn’t do anything else. You kept your pinky finger interlocked with his. He didn’t make any motion or movement indicating he was uncomfortable with the action or that he wanted you to remove your hand.
However, you did notice that his breathing got heavier. For someone as fit as Carlos, the short, brisk, and slow walk you were taking shouldn’t have been something that caused him to get out of breath. His rapid blinking was a dead giveaway. Carlos was building up the courage to do something. You didn’t want to spook him, but you also wanted to reassure him that you were okay with whatever he wanted to do, so you brushed your elbow against his.
That seemed to be everything he needed because, within seconds, Carlos was taking your entire hand in his, interlocking your fingers with his. This time, you can’t help the wide smile that erupts across your face.
Oh, this man.
“Okay?” Carlos asks, nervously, not wanting to overstep anything.
You nod. “It’s all okay.”
//
For the next month and a half, or so, following your and Carlos’ date at the park, you were regularly hanging out and seeing each other, with the in-between moments filled with phone calls and text messages. Even if he was traveling, Carlos made a concerted effort to work around both your and his schedules to find perfect times to text you uninterrupted or call you. That didn’t stop, though, the random thoughts that popped into his head. These random thoughts never failed to put a giant, goofy smile on your face.
There were no words to explain the way Carlos made you feel; the only way you could sum it up was that you really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really liked him.
Finally, after not seeing each other in person for almost two weeks, your work and class schedule aligned with Carlos’ training, business, and tournament schedule to have a movie night.
Because he still lived with his parents and didn’t want to subject you to that (and you weren’t quite ready for that), the decision was for him to go to your apartment. It was the first time you were going to be together in one of your guys’ living places. Often, you hung out in public places together, from little cafes to restaurants to the times he joined you at the library or study locations during intense exam times.
His being in your home was a new level of intimacy you weren’t ready for, but it was exciting to show him a new piece of yourself.
When Carlos walked into your apartment (twenty minutes early!), you gave him an apartment tour, albeit a short tour. This didn’t stop Carlos, though, from asking questions about various decor choices you made or pictures you have hanging around the place. Even the smallest details weren’t lost on him, and he soaked in every moment of learning about your living environment.
“It’s not a big deal, Carlos.” You try to take him away from the shelves littered with old picture books and frames and yearbooks.
“It’s a very big deal,” he says, pulling a book with pictures from your first year of university. With wide eyes, you snatch the photo album from his hands, remembering some of the more embarrassing photos of you in it, not ready for that kind of vulnerability.
You try to ignore the teasing pout on Carlos’ face as he tries to guilt-trip you into letting him see the photo album. “You brought some really great snacks and take-out; let’s eat.”
Walking into your kitchen, you try to ignore the presence of Carlos in your living space and what it means for your relationship. Neither of you have brought up the topic of the status of your relationship. It doesn’t necessarily worry you, but you hope it naturally comes up soon.
“Hey,” Carlos says, approaching you in the kitchen. He places his hands on your waist, gently, in an attempt not to spook you. “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” And it was the truth; you just didn’t want him to see embarrassing photos of you.
“Still,” he murmurs, kissing your temples, one at a time, before following the same pattern with your cheeks before moving to your neck, followed by your shoulders. “Should have asked first.”
You turn around in his embrace to look at him. “I have very embarrassing photos of me in that album. I’m hoping I go to the grave before anyone else sees those photos.”
“Embarrassing photos, you say? Now, I know what I’m doing when you go to the bathroom,” Carlos jokes.
“Oh, shut up,” you reply, your face growing warm. You try to turn back to face the counter while still remaining in Carlos’ embrace, but his eyes are captivating you, and the feel of his hands on your waist paralyzes you. Without any words, you rest your hands at the back of Carlos’ neck and pull him in for a kiss. You can feel the smile/smirk on his face as his lips touch yours.
“No promises,” he murmurs against your lips as you pull away. In one swift motion, he turns you around and moves to your side to help you get the to-go containers situated.
With ease, you and Carlos set out placemats on your coffee table in front of your TV and set the various food, snacks, and drinks on the table to have for the movie.
“Preferences on a movie?” you question, settling on the couch next to Carlos. You follow up the question by listing out the various streaming services you have.
“Pick one of your favorites first,” he replies, moving forward to make a plate of food and snacks for himself.
You nod, picking one of your favorite movies to show. There’s no better test to a relationship than showing the other person one of your favorite movies. As the movie begins and continues through the plot, you’re extremely aware of Carlos’ presence on your couch. It’s different, but you like it. You like him here with you, and you want him always here with you.
Halfway through the movie, you’re moving to adjust your legs into a more comfortable position. You’re not quite sure which pose or stance is going to be the most comfortable, so you’re trying out a few different stances. Carlos notices, and when you stop moving but are clearly trying to find a different pose, he takes your legs and drapes them across his lap, resting his hands on your ankles, brushing little patterns along the skin on your lower leg.
Yeah, that was the pose.
“Okay?” he asks. That was his thing. Whenever he tried something physical that was new to your relationship, he always followed it up with this question.
You nod. “Okay.”
A brief smile overtakes his face before he returns his attention to the movie. Through the remainder of the movie, your legs are comfortable in his lap as his hands trace patterns across the exposed skin of your legs. Normally, you were very ticklish; you couldn’t get through a pedicure without giggling and flinching. However, when Carlos traces his patterns and touches your legs, you don’t notice it. You’re not ticklish one little bit. Interesting, you think to yourself.
When the movie is over, you give him the remote. “Your turn. Pick a movie.”
He nods, taking the remote in one hand, and leaving his other hand firmly on your legs in his lap. He’s scrolling through the various options when he gets a phone call.
“It’s my mother,” Carlos tells you. “Okay if I answer it?”
You nod. “Of course.”
As he answers the call, you lean forward to grab some of the snacks on the coffee table. You try not to listen to his conversation, but his mother on the other side of the phone is loud. Either, she talks very loudly or the volume is very loud, and you’re not sure which one it is.
“Where are you?” you hear his mother say. Your attention is heightened and focused on Carlos’ response. What is he going to say? You’re not looking at him, but from your periphery, you see him look at you as he figures out what to say.
“Out” is what he decides to go with. Okay, interesting.
“¿Con tu novia?” she replies (with your girlfriend?).
That makes you sit up straighter. Now, you were very interested in what he was going to say.
“Sí” is what he follows with.
You don’t hear what she replies with. Your ears are ringing with the knowledge that Carlos called you his girlfriend. Hopefully, he wasn’t just saying it to get his mother off his back and actually meant it.
Another minute passes of Carlos talking on the phone before he hangs up the phone. You’re not looking at him, and he can’t get a good read off of what you’re feeling or thinking. He knows that neither of you has brought up the topic, but he’s been telling people he has a girlfriend. Maybe he should have talked about it with you first before telling people, but it doesn’t change how he feels about you and where he wants the relationship to go. He opts to continue flipping through the movie selections, giving you the time to process and figure out what you want to say.
“Am I actually your girlfriend, or is that something you told your mom to get her off your back?” you finally say, hoping it’s the former.
“I hope you’re actually my girlfriend,” he replies, looking at you with hope and fear. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m actually your girlfriend,” you answer, smiling at the way his shoulders relax and the wide smile overcomes his face. “Is that okay?”
“Very okay.” With that, he leans over and gives you a brief kiss. He pulls you closer to his body, wanting to hold you and feel your warmth against his body.
Well, that’s that.
//
This year’s Indian Wells tournament happened to be at the same time as your Spring Break, so you managed to find some time off from work to fly out to California to be with him during the tournament. You tried to sleep on the plane, but the nerves were wracking through your body. When Carlos is on the road and in different time zones during various tournaments, you managed to work around your schedules well to accommodate the best times to call each other. Not being there with him during tournaments meant you didn’t truly understand how the stress and pressures impacted him as a player. He tried to hide a lot of it while on the phone so that you didn’t feel helpless by only being available over the phone. The dynamics between the two of you would be different with you there in person.
Additionally, this is the most time you’re going to spend with Carlos’ team. You’ve met them and had several conversations with the various team members, but you’ve never spent extended time with them. You hope they don’t think you’re going to be a distraction for Carlos.
To say the least, you were nervous, and that didn’t even compare to the general nervousness you had for Carlos going into a tournament, especially with some of the troubles and issues he’s been having recently.
Because of his practice schedule, Carlos couldn’t meet you at the airport, so you took a taxi from the airport to the hotel where you sat in the lobby waiting for him. He wouldn’t let you get your own room; he wanted you at his side (and bed).
You only had to wait about an hour—like he said—before you saw him walk into the hotel lobby. He was searching for you among the various individuals sitting on the couches in the lobby, and when his eyes met yours, a giant erupted across his face as he moved towards you. You met him halfway, dragging your suitcase behind you.
“Hi,” he whispers into your hair as he holds you tightly.
“Hi,” you whisper into the fabric sitting on his shoulder.
“I’ve missed you.”
“It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks too many,” Carlos contradicts, pulling back from the hug and putting his hand in yours before he re-introduces you to his team. Some of the nerves you were feeling dissipated at the happy smiles on their faces.
“All he’s been talking about the past week has been about you arriving here,” Juanki says. “I don’t know if I could take hearing about it for another day.”
Everyone laughs at Juanki’s remarks, and Carlos kisses your forehead. “I’m very happy you’re here,” he whispers to you.
“Me too,” you reply and begin the walk towards the elevator to Carlos’ hotel room.
The week flies by fast. Your days are spent attending various practices and sitting in the Alcaraz box during matches while relaxing with him in between it all. He’s excelling through the tournament, and before you know it, he’s preparing for his appearance in the finals, vying for the opportunity to defend his title.
Throughout the match, you’re clutching at the sleeves of your sweater, trying your best to remain stoic like the rest of his team so as to support Carlos the best you can.
But then the umpire says, “Game. Set. Match. Alcaraz.” And with that, the entire box jumps up and erupts in cheers, and your heart is bursting at how happy you are for Carlos. This was everything he needed to get his momentum back, and you’re so happy for him.
The rest of the day flies by with media and congratulatory conversations and celebratory drinks and dinner. It isn’t until late that you have a quiet moment alone with Carlos. You’re sitting against the headboard of the bed in your pajamas, waiting for Carlos to change into something comfortable after taking a shower.
When he’s ready, he climbs onto the bed and rests his head in your lap. On instinct, your hands go into his hair to play with it and give his head a massage.
“I couldn’t do it without you here,” he murmurs against your thigh as he lowers his inhibitions as you massage his head.
“Yes, you could have,” you contradict, believing in his potential more than he does.
“Well, then, you were a special motivator to win,” Carlos continues, making your heart melt. You bend down and kiss the top of his head before you return to focusing your attention on his head in your lap.
He has to be exhausted, but you can tell he’s trying his hardest to stay awake—to stay awake for you. After a while, he knows that he can’t remain awake for that much longer, so he says, “Come here.” He moves his body to his side of the bed and pats the space next to him. “I want to fall asleep with you in my arms.”
Who are you to deny this adorable man anything? So, you move to switch off the lights and move to maneuver yourself into his arms. When he’s wrapped his arms around your body just so, a sigh of contentment leaves his body, and within seconds, he’s out, his breath even and quiet.
A small smile approaches your face as you kiss his cheek. Within minutes, you, too, are drifting off to sleep, both content with each other.
//
Quietly, Carlos walks into your apartment, using the key you gave him. You told him that you were busy studying, getting ready for a week of midterms, assignments, and papers due, so he didn’t want to disturb you. However, he’s making sure to make some noise because he doesn’t want you to be startled when he makes his presence known.
Quickly, he shrugs off his shoes and leaves the food and stuff he brought on the kitchen counter, looking around for you. You’re not at the kitchen table where you normally get work done nor are you at the couch where you tend to inhabit when times get stressful. Next, he checks the hallway leading to your bedroom and notices the light on in your room. Before he walks into your room, he returns back to the kitchen and grabs the bouquet of flowers and some of the snacks he bought before going to your room.
When he gets to your open door, he knocks on the door to alert you of his presence. When you hear his knocking, you look up with a big smile and pause the music coming from your computer.
“Hey,” you say, tidying up your bed, slightly, to make room for Carlos among the various textbooks, notebooks, and notes littering your bed.
“Happy Anniversary,” he whispers as he kisses your forehead.
“Happy Anniversary,” you repeat, pulling Carlos in for a hug. With his arms around your body, a lot of the stress that’s been holding you hostage leaves your body. “I’m sorry that I can’t go out tonight or any time this week.”
He shakes his head. “Nonsense. We’ll celebrate our anniversary and you excelling at your work and classes.”
“Thank you,” you say, patting the empty side of your bed for Carlos.
“I’m going to put these flowers in a vase for you first, okay?”
“Okay,” you answer with a small smile.
“I brought you food and stuff. Should I leave it in the kitchen or bring it in here for you?”
“Kitchen,” you reply. “It’ll give me a reason to get out of my filth, but bring some snacks?”
“Obviously,” Carlos remarks before giving you a kiss and walking to put the flowers in a vase. When he returns, he comes back with various chocolate snacks, crackers, and gummies—more than anyone could possibly need.
“Thank you,” you whisper, grabbing one of your favorites and immediately placing it optimally against your leg so you can grab some as you type away on your paper.
“Of course,” he whispers back, climbing onto your bed.
“I charged my tablet, so you can watch something on it while I get work done if you’re planning on staying.”
He nods. It’s remarkable that even with all these things on your mind, you still can think about him and what he might need. “Whatever you need, let me know.”
Carlos arrived at your apartment around late afternoon, and it’s been many hours since he arrived, and you’ve barely lifted your head to breathe. Despite using your tablet to watch a show (one of your favorites that he’s been trying to catch up on to watch it live with you), Carlos has been watching and observing you. He’s been watching you type away on a paper, finish it, check it off on your checklist, and move on to preparing various study guides for exams.
He knows that you said you wanted dinner in the kitchen, but he knows trying to peel you away from your computer is going to be too much to ask, especially in the middle of completing an assignment, so instead, he watches and waits for you to check off something from your to-do list. When you do, he gently takes your computer off your lap and moves it onto the bedside table on his side of the bed.
“Carlos,” you whine.
“Go to the bathroom,” he instructs. As you follow his instructions, he fluffs up your pillows and grabs another one to support your back before he goes to the kitchen to grab dinner for the both of you.
When he gets back to your bedroom, you’re just leaving the bathroom after you used the toilet, washed your face, and brushed your hair.
“I got you some food, so you can eat it while also getting work done,” Carlos says, gesturing for you to sit as he hands you a bowl. When you’re comfortably situated on your bed, Carlos places his bowl on the bedside table and gives you your computer back.
When you get your computer back, you quickly make sure all your documents are saved before closing your computer and putting it to the side. When Carlos gives you a quizzical look, you say, “It’s our anniversary. The least I can do is have dinner with you.”
“No, if you need to get something done, it’s okay,” Carlos contradicts.
You shake your head. “I need a break anyway.”
“But you can—”
“I want to have dinner with you, Carlos, not my computer screen.”
“Okay,” he says, a wide smile overtaking his face.
While this might not have been the anniversary night Carlos thought he would be having with his partner, it was one he wouldn’t trade for anything. You’re a great source of support and love with his tennis career and his insane schedule, so it felt right to return the deed and support and take care of you when you were busy and needed him. After all, that’s what relationships are, Carlos is starting to learn. Taking care of each other, and carrying more of that weight when necessary so your partner doesn’t sink amid everything.
Carlos made a silent vow to be your anchor for as long as you’ll have him—and he hopes it’s forever.
//
“It’s kind of funny that three years ago, Chris was the one who introduced us, and now we just attended her engagement party, together, as a couple,” Carlos reflects, kissing your forehead. You lean further into his touch, letting his hand fall from yours so that his arm can wrap around your shoulders. He smelled good; he always smelled good.
“Makes you think about how our lives would be different,” you continue. “We could have just been two strangers at this party.”
Carlos shudders. “I don’t want to think about that.”
“Good, me neither,” you reply, looking into his deep, chocolate-brown eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Without saying anything else, Carlos takes your hand in his and begins the walk across the street. It was one of those longer avenues, with less than enough time to cross the street. You follow him, knowing you’d follow him to the ends of the earth.
“You know,” he says when you’re still a few feet away from the mid-point of the avenue-cross way. “Attending an engagement party tonight has got me thinking.”
From his words, you kind of know where he’s going with his thoughts, but you still want to tease and embarrass him as he gets all his thoughts out. “Mmm, dreaming of your white, lacy dress?”
“No,” Carlos says, slightly defensively. You look up at him and can see a faint flush under the street lights as you’re still crossing the street. “Just that maybe we’d want that for us, one day? What do you think?”
You’re still looking at him and crossing the street when you see his eyes go wide with fear. His face lights up with the white of a headlight, and for a split second you turn your head, and the bright white of the headlights blinds your vision.
At least it’s with the love of your life, you think to yourself as Carlos squeezes your hand one last time.
. . .
As the headlights blared into your eyes, you blinked, bringing you back to the little corner table where you and Carlos were sitting—back to the present, away from your imagination.
“I’m one of four brothers,” he starts.
“Four? Your poor mother; the level of testosterone in your household is insane,” you joke, unable to stop a smile from crossing your face.
He continues talking about his brothers, giving you little tidbits about their personalities and activities. He had no idea about the spiral that was going through your head at that moment.
You’ve always known that you tend to overthink and think of the worst-case scenarios. That tended to be the one thing that prevented you from doing things, especially dating; not knowing about the in-betweens or how things ended was unnerving to you. What was going to happen after this first date freaked you out.
“Tell me a little bit about your family,” Carlos says, a soft smile on his face, the smile lines around his eyes making you swoon. Oh, this man.
“Well. . .” you begin, diving into your family and their various antics and personalities. They were a handful.
This time, you decided, that it didn’t matter if you didn’t know how things would play out. You were going to try your best not to let yourself overthink and live in the moment. That was going to be difficult, you knew, but somehow, the way Carlos made you feel helped you realize that, no matter what, it would all work out just fine.
You didn’t know how it would end, but the journey might be worth whatever the ending actually was.
After all, you know you have an overactive imagination, leading to self-sabotage at the purest and best things in the world.
This kind of connection with Carlos happened once every few lifetimes. Who were you to deny the universe the connection it wanted?
#claudia writes#carlos alcaraz#carlos alcaraz x reader#tennis fic#carlos alcaraz fic#op: 2024#carlos alcaraz imagine
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Captian!Vanessa X Rookie!Reader. City Patrol
“ Alright, Alright. Settle down. Johanna, David, Andrew, you three will be driving through the eastern side of town. Mike, Steven, Henry, you’ll take the western side. Every one else is on active standby. Dismissed. “
Vanessas voice boomed through the meeting room, her gaze meet yours as you began to pack up for standby.
“ YN. Can I have a word? “
“ yes, Of course Captian. “
You waited for everyone to file out, and you approached Vanessa. You gave her a gentle smile, and she returned it.
“I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me on a patrol though the city. Write tickets, investigate sights, whatever the day gives us. “
“ oh! Captain I’d be honored! “
She smirked, heading towards the door.
“ get your gear, meet me by the car. “
“ yes captain. “
She nodded, and walked away. You hurried to your locker, grabbing your utilitys. Then you tossed on your jacket, the jacket she had given you.
You rushed to meet the by her car. She had an older model, but it still ran just as good as any other corvette.
“ ready rookie? “
“ yes captain. “
You both stepped into the car, buckling up. You watched Vanessa mess with some of the panel buttons, before watching her click off her body camera.
“ turn your body cam off yn, it messes with my radio. “
“ oh- yes captain. “
You clicked your camera off, and with that Vanessa drove off. The snow blew hard against the car, as Vanessa clicked the heat on.
“ tell me yn…why did you want to become a police officer. Pretty face like yours…could have been a model easy. Why waist away here. “
“ because I wanted to make a difference. To bring positive influence to my community. “
“ that’s what they all say…”
Vanessa muttered, her gaze focused ahead. You twiddled your thumbs, glancing away. Did you upset her? Was she in a bad mood.
“ here, let’s get a drink. “
When the two of you got to the city, Vanessa pull the car over. You looked up to see a Starbucks. Vanessa stepped out and walked over to open your door.
“ oh my, t-thank you captain. “
“ shh..so formal yn…you know you can just call me Vanessa~ “
“ w-well…thank you, Vanessa “
She smirked, as the two of you walked towards the door. Vanessa opened it for you and followed after you to the counter. She ordered first.
“ morning, I’ll have a venti signature dark roast. Yn what do you want, I’ll pay. “
“ oh no Vanessa i- “
“ cmon, I insist. “
You blushed, stepping closer to the counter.
“ I’ll have a venti dark roast aswell, but with 5 pumps of vanilla. “
“ oh, and two buttered croissants. “
“ Captian please that’s too much. “
She only smiled at you, swiping her card through the reader. The two of you shuffled to the pickup counter and waited. Vanessa was so sweet, when she talked her voice was heavy, but still soft. She made you feel so warm…so comforting. And this peace was perfect, until there was a crashing through the doors.
“ PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND EMPTY YOUR POCKETS. THIS IS A ROBBERY- “
The masked criminal froze when he saw the two of you. You tried your best to remain professional, but Vanessa burst out laughing.
“ did you not see the cop car outside?? Moron. Drop the gun, hands behind your back. “
“ Step closer pig! I’ll blow your brains! “
The criminal raised his gun to Vanessa’s face, and in a second you both pulled out your guns.
“ I can shoot faster than you can think. Drop the gun. Now. “
The criminal hesitated, before dropping the gun. You quickly rushed to him and put him in cuff, instantly reading Miranda rights out. Vanessa called for back up to take the guy away.
“ we’re gonna put this guy away, can you hold into our order? Thank you “
Vanessa tipped the barista, before carefully taking the gun from the ground, carrying it outside.
“ good one YN. Backup should be here to take him away any minute now. “
“ thank you captain. “
Vanessa nodded, and the two of you waited only a moment more, and the car pulled up. They took him and the gun away, leaving you two.
“ you get in the car, I’ll get our drinks. “
Vanessa walked back into the Starbucks, and you settled into the car. She came back a few moments later, sitting in the drivers seat and handing you your drink and croissant.
“ enjoy dear. Let’s go. “
Vanessa started the car, and drove off. The way the lights bounce off the snowy side walks looked like heaven, and the warm presence of Vanessa made everything seem…perfect.
Vanessa suddenly turned into a one way street. It was off the usual patrol route. You glanced around, your stomach fluttered but you trusted Vanessa. She backed down an ally, and parked the car, leaning back in her seat.
The two of you quietly drank and ate, before Vanessa finally broke the silence.
“ so…you’ve got a girl at home yn? “
“ huh- o-oh! No n-no I don’t….”
“ really? Thought the girls would be chasing you down…a smart, pretty, strong, gorgeous girl like you….id be Chasing you if i could~ “
You blushed, burying your face in your hands. You felt Vanessa’s hands gently pry them off your face. Her gentle eyes stared right into yours.
“ the cameras don’t affect the radio at all, do they~? “
“ not at all rookie, no they do not~ “
And with that she pulled you into a kiss, you gave in, pressing against her. Her tongue pressed against your lips, as if asking for entrance, and you happily let them in.
“ a-ah…Vanessa…what about the c-cars camera….”
“ i deactivated it. Im captain, I know how to work my car~ “
The two of you continued your make out sessions, Vanessa’s hands dragged across your body before she pulled back and chuckled.
“ go in the back, I wanna try something~ “
You giggled, quickly stepping out into the cold and back into the back. Vanessa sat down first, then pulled you onto her lap. The two of you continued your make out, Vanessa’s hands trailing up your back and cupping your clothed breasts.
“ fuck….i want you yn…i fucking want you- “
“Captian, come in. We’re having an issue with the system, can you come check it out? “
Vanessa’s radio on her chest buzzed, as she picked it yo and answered it snappily.
“ yeah yeah I’m coming. Give me a few…”
Vanessa turned off the radio, sighing and looking back to you.
“fucking morons….we have to go back, I need to teach them how to do there job “
“ but we were just having fun Vanessa…”
“ I know, I know. But…maybe I can take you on a date sometime soon? And we can make out some more then~ “
“ I-I’d love that Vanessa~! “
The two of you pressed your heads together, kissing one last time before stepping out of the car, and back into the front seats.
Vanessa started the car, and the two of you drove off. As she drove, your mind wandered. How muscular her build her, how strong she is…before you landed on another thought.
“ Vanessa…”
“ yeah baby? “
“ isn’t this…wrong. Us having a…relationship….”
Vanessa stiffened, like she had been avoiding the question. She sipped her coffee again before turning down the street.
“ yeah…it’s risky for both of us…but I..I don’t wanna ignore this YN…”
Vanessa placed a hand on your thigh, as you gently placed your hand ontop of hers.
“ I think,….we could try to make this work…and if it doesn’t then it doesn’t….but I want this…”
You smiled at her vulnerability. You picked up her hand and kissed it gently, interlacing your fingers in hers.
“ I think…I want this too…I wanna make this work. “
The two of you smiled, keeping hands held for the rest of the drive to the police station. As you pulled into the garage, Vanessa stepped out and opened the door for you again.
“ so polite Captain “
“ of course. Anything for you~ “
You chuckled, walking back into the station. Vanessa went the own way to help the others, and you turned to your locker to look at your phone quickly. You’ve never felt so…so seen. So wanted. You’d do anything and everything to make this work.
You…loved her.
#vanessa shelly#five nights at freddy's#vanessa shelly x reader#Police!Captian!Vanessa#rookie!reader
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Hiker's Delight
Summary: Bucky takes you on a hike. That's it. That's the fic. Boyfriend! Bucky x Reader. Established Relationship.
Warnings: Just fluff and some mentions of post- Hydra trauma, but nothing too crazy. Will proper edit later!
A/N: Quick lil fic I wrote cause I've been just wanting more boyfriend! bucky, domestic life vibes. I need fluffy and comforting energy rn and this is that. Enjoy!!
I make my way up the hill, huffing as I grab onto a nearby rock to pull myself up.
Bucky's behind me, not out of breath at all, the damn super soldier and his stamina and-
"Hey, you doin' ok?" I hear from behind me, Bucky leaning against a nearby rock.
I nod, looking back ahead as I haul myself up. "This is just a bit more intense than I thought, I'll be okay though." I let out another grunt and I push another step. He's stayed behind me the whole time even though I'm going at a snail's pace, according to him I'd probably drop off and get lost if he lead the way.
"You sure you don't want-"
"No. You are not gonna carry me. I'm gonna finish *grunt* this *huff* damn hike with my own two feet."
We pull forward, the slopes a bit more steep than I expected which had me nearly sweating by the time we reached the edge. I looked up at the towering cliff knowing my arms were like jello, but I had to, needed to-
Bucky knelt down and held his hands out, a makeshift lift as he looked up at me. He quirked his brow.
"I can-" I start.
"Stop being stubborn and take the help doll. This cliff is a bit of a bitch, if you can't tell." He said waved his arm at the cliff to make a point.
I don't say anything and just sigh, knowing he was right. No use being overly stubborn about this. I prop my foot in his hands, griping where I could on the rock in front of me before Bucky said "Ready? 1... 2..."
And then I was up, the top of the rock pressed against my stomach as I hoisted myself over the rest of the way. I crawled forward, legs starting to feel a bit like jello now that I was on the ground.
I watched as Bucky followed right after, easily pulling himself up like it was the easiest thing in the world. He stood up with ease, clearly not dealing with jello legs as I just kind of collapsed on my back and took some deep breaths.
"Ugh, this damn body. Why must it betray me so." My dramatic ass said.
"Because you just went on a pretty intensive hike with barely any training even though I offered to have you train with me for like 2 months."
My noodle arm managed to raise up and wave him off, "Semantics."
He chuckled, taking a seat beside me and brushing the sweaty strands of hair off my face. "Want some water?"
I nod, eyes closed as my breathing stedied, my body starting to relax and calm down from the overexertion. I heard a bottle cap untwist so I opened my eyes to see Bucky reaching for my back.
"Come on, you can prop up against me if you want." He said, hand gently pushing my back upwards. I push myself up and shift over, my back now facing the soldier's chest as he hands me the bottle.
"Oh fuck that's good," I sigh, taking a long swig before passing it over to Bucky. It takes me a moment, but after I blink a few times I suddenly realize the view before me.
Directly in front of us is the most beautiful mountain range I'd ever seen--trees lining the edges, eagles flying overhead, and a huge, crystal blue lake smack dab in the center. Cut off from civilization, this untouched land surrounded my mountains and only Mother Nature as its mistress.
"Wow, this is-" I start, eyes wide as they tried to take in every detail. The lighting, the shades of green, the textures--all of it... "breathtaking."
"I'm glad you like it." Bucky said softly, his voice a soft tickle behind my ear. His arms wrapped around my waist, tucking me a bit closer to him as I still sat in awe.
"Even though I'm not the biggest hiking fan-"
"Huh, couldn't tell." Bucky joked.
"-oh hush. I was saying, even though I'm not the biggest hiker, I'm really glad you asked me to do this." I reached for his hands on my waist and gave it a small squeeze.
"Thanks for coming. I'd only ever been here alone before, and it was for a mission. So I'm glad I get to actually enjoy it, and with some pretty decent company while we're at it." He kissed my head after, a smirk pressed against my hair.
"Oh decent huh? Just decent?" I looked up and over my shoulder into his blue eyes already looking down at me. That same smirk still plastered on his stupidly gorgeous face. "Says the man who practically begged to take me here."
He shrugged, "I don't remember begging."
"Oh? So all that whining and bribing with takeout was just a lapse in memory then?"
"Probably." He said, the nonchalance to his voice making it even more frustrating.
I booped his nose and gave him a scrunched smile. "Cheeky," I turned back to the view before me, settling back into Bucky. I reached into my bag and pulled out the small lunch I'd packed prior, some sandwiches and fruits laid out. "Can't think of a prettier place I've ever eaten," I said, mouth half full as I took a bite of my sandwich.
He grabbed one as well, arms brushing past mine as he hummed. "I need to take you out more then. Can't let this be the peak of our relationship now can I?" He took a big bite.
"I mean, as long as I can actually physically get to these places ok I'm down. My stubbornness can't handle another hike like this, or I'll try to climb Everest of something next time."
"Eh, Everest is overrated anyways." He said, taking a sip of his water.
I turned around in shock, "Seriously? You climbed Everest?"
He smiled and nodded. "Yup. Was kidding about the overrated thing though. Impressed?"
"Um, yeah I'm impressed! But when, how, what was it like?" I rambled on. I couldn't believe this man I'd come to know and love still had stuff like this just to learn about. A whole lifetime to know.
He put the bottle down, thinking for a bit. "About ten years ago, when I was still in..." He hesitated, before moving on. Hydra. Something we both knew, understood. It didn't need to be said. "I remember bits and pieces, but it was cold as hell and windy. For a second there though, at the top of the mountain, I looked out and was me. Bucky. I didn't remember the last time I had been myself like that, and I just didnt know what to do I took a deep breath in, looked out at the mountains and sat there for... Fuck knows how long."
I set down my food and reached for his hand, my thumb tracing over the back as he spoke. "Is that why you like hiking and climbing so much?"
He nodded, hand turning and holding mine. He look at the metal hand below him intertwined with mine before he spoke. "It can always pull me out of whatever headspace I'm in, I don't know. When shit doesn't work and the day feels like hell, being out here just... Helps. It reminds me of who I was or could be. I don't know." He shrugged, looking away at the view.
I squeeze his hand, eyes tracing back to his face. "I think I can sort of understand. Not the hiking or climbing but... Being by the sea does the same for me. Helps me remember that I'm alive and here."
He nods, his gaze still in the horizon. "It's like, no matter how fucked up the world gets or I get, nature doesn't judge. She justs gets it and doesn't care. Doesn't care about who I am or what I've done."
"Because she just sees chaos and order and gets that both are important." I add, fingers still tracing along the side of his face slowly. "The rest of it doesn't really matter."
"Exactly."
We sit in silence for a moment before I shift Bucky's face towards me. His eyes lock onto mine in silent question.
"Thank you for bringing me here. And sharing this with me."
He smiles as he leans down, a small kiss pressed against my lips before he let his forehead drop to mine. "Happy to."
"So where to next?" I ask, pulling back enough to look at him. "Another mountain? The desert? A tundra?"
He smirks, "I got the perfect spot already in mind."
#Bucky Barnes x Reader#fluff#avengers bucky#bucky fluff fic#marvel#domestic bucky#established relationship#boyfriend bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes
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Dirty Little Secret
Alastor x Lucifer/ RadioApple -Part 3- (NSFW) (MDNI)
Warnings: 18+, smut, slow burn, eventual smut, cock worship, glory hole, enemies to lovers, murder, blood kink, bondage, tentacles, marking, breeding kink, size kink, S&M, Dom/Sub, switch, facial
Other Tags: Fluff and Angst
Aftercare forever!!✨
Part 3 has arrived!!! Things are getting rather interesting. Wonder what’s in store for these two.~ 🤭💕✨
Passing through the threshold of the hallway entry, Alastor takes notice of the door that says “Private” right away; it’s the only door facing him all the way at the very end . Miss Jackie certainly wasn’t lying about not missing it. He slowly makes his way down the corridor; taking glances at the other doors he was passing. Each one labeled the same name with a paired number of the room next to it, specifically named “Glory”. Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what this entails specifically, but he still felt anxious just to be walking down this hallway. “I really hope this was worth the aggravation getting here.” He thought to himself as he finally reaches the designated door.
He felt his heart beat increase, which rarely ever happens to him; thus almost putting him in a state of panic. Why was he acting like this? This is literally just Lucifer!! He honestly can’t grasp this predicament. Alastor?!; Getting nervous over a buffoon?! He had to hold back a laugh from how absurd this was. He slowly grabs the door knob; twisting it as he fully opens the door as he intakes the scene. The walls were tiled in a dark gray as the floor was tiled in white; leaving the two spacious stalls in the middle of the room that were matte black. For whatever this is, it was surprisingly clean for a place in a night club setting. “I heard you open the door. Come in already, silly.” Lucifer snaps him out of his thoughts as he hesitantly steps inside; the door closing behind him as it auto locks itself. “Well, don’t be shy.~ Go ahead and take the right stall for me, please.”
Alastor slowly steps towards the adjacent stall; his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he reaches for the handle of the stall. He pauses as the tips of his claws gently brush against the handle; swallowing a lump in his throat as his hand starts to slightly tremble. Why was he so nervous?! He couldn’t understand why this short stack of a king was making him so frazzled. He usually is composed around the buffoon, but at this moment, he has broken out in a sweat for no reason. At least, no reason at the moment. “Everything ok? Wait, let me guess. First time?” Alastor takes a breath as he turns off the radio effect one more time. “Y-yes…it is.” He hears Lucifer chuckle from his response. “It’s ok, I completely understand. But don’t worry. I promise I’ll take real good care of you.~”
Alastor takes another breath as he slowly opens the stall door; stepping inside as he closes the door behind him. As expected, there was indeed a functional toilet along with the amenities necessary. Except for a rather decent sized hole in the wall that was conjoining the two stalls together. “Good boy.~ Now, stand in front of the hole so I can see what you’re working with.~” Alastor starts the breath heavily as he slowly approaches the hole. He places his hands on the wall so they are not in view, as he is standing inches in front of the hole. His pelvis is the only visible thing to see through the gap. Lucifer hums pleasantly; grinning seductively as he likes what he can see through the hole. “My my, such beautiful brown fur you have.~ And the way your v-line is showing is….so tasty.~”
Alastor’s breath hitches at these compliments; causing him to look down instantly as he feels a rush of blood go straight into his crotch. He has only felt this feeling a few times in his youth when he was alive, but nothing has ever gone past that. He places his hand over his mask to suppress a gasp; watching his cock spring to life in his pants as it forms a tent. Alastor was taken aback by his body’s reaction to such mere words. He didn’t know if this was ok to feel like this, especially towards the short king himself. “Mmmm~, I see you really like compliments.~ Why don’t you whip that bad boy out for me.~” Alastor hesitates at first, but then takes his hand that covered his mask to slide down to the zipper of his pants.
He slowly pulls the zipper down fully as he unfastens the button at the top. Lucifer licks his lips in anticipation to see what this cute stranger has to offer. Slowly, Alastor finally pushes his red boxer briefs down; letting his throbbing cock spring free from its confinement. He hissed slightly from the cold air hitting his sensitive area; causing a slight shiver to run up his spine. “Very goood.~ Now, bring yourself into the hole so I can get a better view.~” Lucifer mused as he watches the stranger slowly puts himself through the hole; his own cock twitching against the confines of his leather shorts. He was in awe by the monster that was presented to him. It pulsated ever so nicely for him; thinking if he will be able to take it all in his throat.
Lucifer tenderly grabs the base of this man’s cock; pressing his cheek against the side of the shaft as he makes it slap his face a couple of times in a playful manner. “You know, I gotta be honest, you have the most beautiful cock I’ve ever laid eyes on.~” He gives the underside tender kisses all the up to the tip; giving the slit a small lick. Alastor bucks his hips in response; biting his lip under the mask in which he takes off so he can breathe properly. Looks like the king himself was a tease in more ways than one. “So eager, aren’t we?~ Don’t worry, I’m gonna appreciate this gorgeous cock….properly.~”
Back at the reception desk, the front doors busted open by a group of lone sharks; immediately spotting the one that was killed by Alastor awhile ago. “In here sir!” One of the lone sharks pointed to the body as a small imp with a zig zag like tail walks into view; taking a puff of his cigar as he looks down at the body and mutters. “So this is why the bastard wasn’t answering my calls.” The imp turns to the receptionist behind the desk; quickly making his way up to the counter as he slams his fists down hard. This in turn makes her jump in shock, as she was too busy scrolling on her phone to notice what was happening. “Hey sweetheart, can you kindly tell me who was the low life dog that decided it was a good idea to fuck with me?”
She looks around at the group of lone sharks behind him; stuttering as she’s trying to find the words to say in this situation. “L-look I don’t want any trouble, b-but I can’t give any client information like th-.” She gets cut off as one of the lone sharks walks up to the counter; point the barrel of a gun right into her forehead. The imp takes another puff of his cigar; blowing the smoke in her direction as she coughs from the smell of it. “I don’t think you want to play that game with me, sweetheart.” He then puts his cigar out on the counter; burning a hole into the wood as he leans close to face her. She trembles as she swallows hard; hearing the weapon click in the lone shark’s hand. “Tell me who did it, or you’re gonna be the next person to be thrown in the river.”
#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne#lucifer smut#alastor the radio demon#alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor x lucifer#radioapple#appleradio#radioapple smut#18+ content#18+ only#18+ mdni#18+ account#18+ post#18+ blog
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#ugh#sleep is a struggle tonight#my back hurts too much#my head hurts too much#and tomorrow is the first session of marriage counseling with my husband#and I don't even know what I want from it because I am still so hurt and angry from how he's acting and things he's said#I start physical therapy for my back on Tuesday which is a good thing#I tried to do too much last week and made my back pain worse so I have been laid up in bed since Friday#plus migraines#I'm trying to see positives and get myself together#I need to start job hunting too#but it's a struggle#I feel like I can only look a step or two ahead of me#but I'm afraid that everything against me is five steps ahead#real life
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seat taker
s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?
w.c. 10.6k
w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)
a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out
"go sit next to him then."
you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.
"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."
she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.
"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."
you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."
"you're insane."
"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."
"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."
you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.
"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."
"huh. what was that last part?"
your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...
with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.
its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.
poker face, poker face, poker face.
it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.
there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.
"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.
"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"
you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.
"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.
a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."
"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.
you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.
"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.
even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."
"you can ask him for that too~"
"shut up, you menace."
"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."
"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"
"bye!"
and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.
suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.
and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.
you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.
he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.
god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–
"you have pretty handwriting."
"I–what?"
you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.
and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.
"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."
he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."
you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.
"be my guest." you say without hesitance
he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.
he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.
"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips
your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"
he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.
"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"
the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.
"y-yeah."
"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."
a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.
"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"
he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.
"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"
you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.
"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response
at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.
"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.
"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."
"what?"
you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."
you hear a puff of a laugh from geto
"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."
you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"
every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.
geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."
you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.
amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"
you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."
geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"
you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."
"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"
you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.
geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"
you nod, curious at what he was going to do.
he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.
when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.
"that's where the frat house is."
you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"
geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."
you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"
"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.
you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.
"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."
just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.
although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.
you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.
your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.
"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.
the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.
"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.
she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"
she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.
you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.
it's geto.
his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.
the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.
you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.
you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.
you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.
you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.
"is it as cool as people say?"
you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.
it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.
you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.
"yeah!" you nod
geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you
"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.
"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him
"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you
"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.
"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"
you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.
"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.
geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'
you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.
it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.
he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.
"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.
geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.
you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.
"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.
"you want something?" geto asks you back
"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him
geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"
you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.
he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."
"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink
you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.
"you didn't want a drink?"
geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."
"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.
"what kinda car do you have?"
"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble
"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.
"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.
"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."
"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.
"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out
he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"
"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."
geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"
although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."
"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you
"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.
"you don't know my name, rig–"
"y/n."
you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.
"what?"
"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you
"oh." you sink back into yourself
"do you know mine?"
you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."
"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"
"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"
the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.
geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.
"what's wrong?" he asks quickly
"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."
you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.
"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.
you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"
"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."
you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."
"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."
"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it
"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.
when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.
an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.
"there you go."
he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.
"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.
when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.
"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.
"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back
"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"
you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.
geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.
you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.
after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.
"this is your place right?"
another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.
"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.
when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.
"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him
"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"
"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.
"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"
"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.
you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.
you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.
your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.
there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.
by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.
"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."
It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.
you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.
you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.
and gojo's voice, "idiot."
you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up
suguru
hey
y/n
hi
suguru
you wanna take satoru's seat next class?
y/n
he wants to flirt with mika again?
suguru
not rlly lol.
y/n
?????
suguru
I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)
y/n
lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of
suguru
haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat
y/n
okay?
when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.
there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.
three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.
gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.
you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.
"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.
"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.
"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."
ah. that's why it seemed so out of character
"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."
suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."
"really? about?"
for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."
"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."
"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"
you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"
he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."
"what?"
suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."
"for who?"
"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."
he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.
you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"
"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."
"Zenin?!"
"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.
you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."
"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."
"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.
"no?"
"no."
and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.
when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.
"hello?"
"hey hey! I have a question!"
you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.
"what's up?"
"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."
"the fembot costume?!"
you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.
"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"
"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you
"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"
"well I've never done that." you grumble
"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."
"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"
it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.
you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.
on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.
your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.
it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.
however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–
he just made eye contact with you.
you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.
fuck you satoru gojo.
suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.
"you bought another costume?"
"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."
"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.
you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri
"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending
"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.
"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.
"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans
his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.
you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.
you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"
"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"
his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.
"are you kidding me? you're high?"
"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.
you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.
"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."
"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."
"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.
"yes."
"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."
the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."
"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer
irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.
you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car
after their date.
which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.
the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.
you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.
it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.
"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."
it's suguru.
there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.
he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.
this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.
suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.
suguru
are you still here?
I'm sobered up now.
he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.
buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz
the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.
"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.
nervous, you mutter, "what."
suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.
"why didn't you answer me?"
"do you really not know the answer?"
"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.
"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.
you're confused, "but–"
"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.
"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.
the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.
"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."
"since when?" you peep
"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession
"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess
suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"
"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.
"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor
"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."
"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."
you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."
suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."
"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"
"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.
"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.
suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"
"no, I like it here too."
theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.
"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.
he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.
"suguru."
he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.
he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.
he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.
a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.
"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses
suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."
your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–
"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.
you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."
he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"
"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.
suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.
he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"
you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.
"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."
suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.
"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"
you give him the same answer again.
"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."
the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.
you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.
"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck
"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."
"yeah?"
"mhm"
"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"
"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.
"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles
you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.
he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.
"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way
it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."
"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"
"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.
"move your panties to the side."
when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.
"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"
"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.
he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.
"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly
your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.
"are you close angel?"
concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.
"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.
you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."
he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"
the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."
it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."
like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"
you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.
he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"
you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance
suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.
" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion
"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper
"no." you rake your hands down his arms
suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."
the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.
"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.
every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.
"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."
it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.
"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."
"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"
suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"
a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.
"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.
he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.
at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.
suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."
the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."
"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders
"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"
"yeah."
"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.
suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.
"we can do that later right?"
"right."
#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto fluff#jjk suguru#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto smut#geto smut#suguru smut#jjk smut#geto suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader
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cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?
i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.
Ghost
♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.
♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"
♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you��re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.
♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.
♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers.
“mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.
Price
♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.
♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.
♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!”
“what did you just call me?”
You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“
He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint.
“No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.
♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…
♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.
♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.
♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.
Alejandro
♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.
♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“
“Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.
♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.
♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.
♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”
#ghost#simon riley#ghost headcanons#simon riley headcanons#alejandro vargas headcanons#john price headcanons#call of duty headcanons#ghost cod#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#alejandro x reader#alejandro vargas#captain john price#john price
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BFFS- S.JY & P.SH
♡ Sunghoon x Fem! reader x Jake
Synopsis: Your best friends show you how real men treat women.
WC: 4.6k
Warnings: Mentions of cheating, threesome, cursing, Jakehoon call reader princess a lot
Smut warnings: Kissing, oral(f&m), handjobs, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, slight manhandling, squirting, cream pie, reader maybe almost passes out, aftercare(i love)
This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!
A/N: This took me three days to write,, pls bear with me as I figure out my writing style. Jakehoon have me going brain dumb and I rlly needed to write this to get it out of my system, enjoy!
You slouched back in your seat, lolling your head to the side to watch the scenery as big open fields pass by quickly. Sighing in disappointment of your “girls day” gone wrong.
“Okay- what do you mean the Airbnb was cancelled? How do you even cancel one of those?” Sunghoon whines in the front seat while giving Jake directions to the nearest hotel. A real passenger princess, he is.
Jake’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, irritated at the faulty trip plan he had made for the three of you. “I don’t know.” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t the one that canceled it. The host did, said something about a family emergency.”
Your eyes grow lazy as the sun sets, watching as the calming twilight takes over the sky. You couldn’t care any less about the Airbnb, just wanting to settle into the nearest bed and relax. So, when Jake finally pulls into the parking lot of the nearest hotel, you’re the first one to hop out of the car.
“Jesus, this place is scary.” You whisper to yourself but Sunghoon picks up on it, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “Sorry, Princess. I know this trip was supposed to be for you to relax and let go but we’re on a bit of a delay. The fun can start tomorrow.” He ruffles your hair a bit before you pull away to grab your suitcase. “Don’t even worry about it.”
He takes your suitcase in his hand while also holding his own, forearm flexing under his expensive Tiffany bracelet. “Seriously, Y/N. I’m sorry it’s not going as planned.” Jake is frowning next to you as you walk to the front desk and you shake your head at him. “Please, guys. I know you’re trying your best to make me feel better.”
You turn back to Sunghoon who is now holding your room key, ushering you to the fragile looking stairs that creak under each step. “Room 127.” He mutters out as you turn the corner, nodding his head towards the very end of a long hallway of doors.
Grabbing the key from him to run ahead of them, you open the creaky door to let them in first. “Thanks, Princess.” Jake follows behind Sunghoon through the threshold, kissing your temple in gratitude.
They both huff as they set down the luggage, immediately scanning the room to analyze your living situation. There’s two small beds with a nightstand between, an old CRT TV that probably doesn’t work, a scary painting of a cottage in a forest on the wall next to the bathroom door, and a tiny kitchen with only a small counter, mini fridge, and a table for two.
“Well,” Sunghoon sighs, plopping down onto a bed, “Let’s get comfy.” He smiles and even if this hotel is old and creepy, his grin makes you feel like you’re home. “Thank you, guys.” You’re hit with a sudden sense of sadness and guilt. “I know you guys like trips but this was so last minute because of me and I feel bad for making you guys go through this.”
Jake sits down next to Sunghoon, grabbing one of your hands to lead you to stand in front of them. “Don’t even worry about it. We planned this for you. No best friend of mine is going to get cheated on and then rot in bed for all of eternity.” Sunghoon nods in agreement, taking your other hand in his. “That’s right. We’re for lifers and I’d be an asshole to leave my bestie in the dirt just because she got a little closed off and depressed.”
You squeeze both of their hands, smiling down at their big, loving eyes. “You guys are sweet.” You feel a lump in your throat starting to form, and get suddenly too embarrassed of being emotional to be serious, “But you need to stop with the TikTok slang, I can’t take it seriously.” You joke and they both grin at your attempt to be funny, different from your recently quiet and moody personality.
“Why don’t you go take a shower and when we’re all done washing up, we can put a movie on my laptop, hm?” Sunghoon stands up and Jake follows, leading all three of you to check out the bathroom. As expected, the area is small with just a sink, toilet, and small shower. “Good thing I brought my own soaps.”
Just as you turn to grab your garment bag, a large cockroach is running across the floor and Jake is quick to step on it, hearing the loud splat as it’s squished against the tile. “Wow, I am not sleeping tonight”.
♡.
You mindlessly scroll through social media as your best friends are focused on the horror movie playing on the small screen in front of you, huddled up in a big blanket that’s covering them from head to toe, save for their eyes. All three of you are laying on your stomachs, and you’d feel them jerk and hear small squeals every now and then as they get scared, then teasing each other for being pussies which results in them rolling around on the bed trying to push each other off.
You sigh as you click on a certain story that makes your stomach drop, the video audio blasting as music plays through speakers and your screen flashes bright colorful lights while people dance and grind on each other.
“What are you doing? You’re not even watching the movie!” Jake nudges your side and you nudge him back, pushing him into Sunghoon who is laying next to him. “Yeah, we put this on for you!” Sunghoon joins in on the whining, reaching over Jake to steal your phone. “What are you looking at anyways-” He cuts himself off as he watches the video on your phone, suddenly tapping on the person’s profile. “Your ex? Seriously?”
You sink further into the bed with guilt, avoiding eye contact with the both of them as they stare at you in disbelief. “Why haven’t you blocked him yet?” Jake sounds hurt by this, maybe because you promised him you’d block the man after you left him. “I-I don’t know,” You huff, “I can’t just let go of him like that.” You watch the way Sunghoon’s jaw clenches in anger, then relaxes as he starts speaking again. “Y/N, he cheated on you. He doesn’t love you and you shouldn’t be trying to hold onto him like that anymore.” He doesn’t sound angry, but it’s serious enough to hit you where it hurts, taking a deep breath as tears start blurring your vision.
Before you have time to process it, Jake sits up and pulls you into his lap, sitting you sideways on one of his thighs. “You know he’s not trying to be rude.” He cups your face and wipes the falling tears away with his thumb. “We just want what’s best for you, and that asshole is definitely not the best.” Sunghoon hums in agreement, placing a hand on the back of your head and petting you soothingly.
“Let us show you how a real man treats his girl.” Sunghoon’s voice is low, almost a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck. “W-what?” You sniffle, wiping any tears left on your cheek. “You heard me, babe. Let us make you feel good.” He pulls you off of Jake’s lap, laying you on the bed and kneels on one side of you as Jake kneels on the other side.
They both watch you with big, hopeful eyes, patiently waiting for your answer. You could moan just from the way they devour you with their gaze, so you decide to nod in agreement instead. Jake immediately leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips gently against yours while his hands hold your face. Sunghoon’s hands trail up your thighs and hips to hold your waist, pushing under your cropped tank top to grip your skin softly.
You moan quietly against Jake’s lips and he smiles at the way you’re easily relaxing into two pairs of hands. Sunghoon shifts lower, getting comfortable between your legs as he massages the flesh of your thighs. You moan into the kiss again, this time parting your lips slightly, but enough for Jake to slip his tongue through. At the first brush of his tongue against yours you stiffen, hands coming up to grip his hair.
Sunghoon softly squeezes your hip, grabbing your attention away from Jake and you pull away from the kiss with a string of saliva connecting your lips, blushing lightly at the vulgar image. Looking down at Sunghoon, he’s dangerously close to your core, with just your pajama bottoms and underwear in the way. “Can I take these off?” He asks softly, as if trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You whisper out a “yes” and Sunghoon smiles before pressing a kiss to your clothed thigh.
You look back up at Jake who is now groping you from over your thin tank top, watching the way your breasts squish under the weight of his palm. Your back arches slightly, pushing your chest closer to him while you pull him down for another kiss. His mouth opens as soon as your lips touch, letting you stick your tongue in and kiss him nasty enough for spit to trail down your chin and onto your neck.
Jake pulls away, kissing down your cheek to your jaw and neck, lapping at the saliva trail and sucking harshly at the joint of your neck and shoulder. Your back arches higher, grinding your hips against nothing as you realize Sunghoon has gotten your lower half completely bare. You pull your hands away from Jake and shoot up, covering yourself and blushing shyly.
“C‘mon, Princess, show me your pretty pussy.” He nips at your thigh, lightly tapping them to encourage you. Hesitantly, you spread your legs open as he stares down, licking his lips and smirking proudly. “That’s my girl.” He lifts off of his stomach to hover above you, knees on either side of you as Jake takes his spot between your legs. They moved so swiftly you almost didn’t realize that it was Sunghoon you were now kissing.
The way his lips move against yours is different than Jake, softer and less messy but just as hungry. He places his hands on your boobs, softly pinching one nipple and rolling it between his fingers. “A-ah” You whimper into his mouth, lightly biting his bottom lip and he whimpers back in response, shooting butterflies straight down to your core. Jake watches as more slick spills out of you, his cock large and heavy straining against his sweats.
He wastes no time, blowing cold air against your cunt and giving you no chance to complain about teasing as he licks a long stripe up your slit and retracts his tongue back into his mouth to hum at the taste. You shudder at the feeling of him softly kissing your clit, poking his tongue out to gently flick it against you as you press your body up and against Sunghoon.
He takes this as an invitation to continue undressing you, lifting your shirt over your head and staring holes into your chest. Before you can cover yourself again, he catches you and pins your arms above your head with one hand, while the other grabs your face, squishing your cheeks hard enough for your lips to plump up. “God, you’re beautiful.” He leans back down, kissing you softly and pulling away with a smack.
Behind him, Jake is sucking and licking every part of you he can, letting mixes of your slick and his saliva run down his chin and smear on his face. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks harshly. “Fuck- Jake, oh my god.” You moan loudly, pulling Sunghoon closer so he can kiss all over your chest, sucking dark purple and red bruises against your skin.
You assume this is what heaven is. Two hot men kissing and sucking on the most sensitive and intimate parts of you, their hands roaming all over your body to squeeze whatever they feel. You almost forgot that they’re your best friends.
Sunghoon pulls you out of your thoughts as he flicks his tongue over your nipple, softly taking it into his mouth and sucking on it desperately. This sends you over the edge, suddenly feeling too close to your orgasm that your thighs start to tingle and your breathing is unsteady. “Holy shit, g-gonna cum.” You barely have time to warn them before your thighs are closing around Jake’s head, one hand in his hair and the other in Sunghoon’s as he drools against your chest.
“That’s it, baby. Let him taste you.” Sunghoon groans into your ear, his length growing impossibly harder as you lose yourself. Jake doesn’t let go of your clit, instead going further and slipping a finger inside of you easily. “Jesus, you’re soaking.” He smiles as more slick spills out of you, wetting the bed and trailing down his forearm.
“Ah! Too much!” You whine as Jake starts curling his finger, never letting your clit leave his mouth. “It’s okay princess, have to get you prepped for us.” He adds another finger, moaning against your heat at the way he easily slips his digits in, curling them up as your hips chase the feeling.
Sunghoon takes your hand that’s in his hair and trails it down his body, landing on his hard-on. You look up at him as his eyebrows are furrowed, lip caught between his teeth as you gently palm him through his pants. “Go on, take it out.” He wiggles his hips cutely and you nod eagerly.
You fumble with his belt, having to stop a few times to moan and grind against Jake’s fingers. You finally loosen it, popping open the button and unzipping so you can tug his pants down his thighs aggressively. “Relax, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” You blush and look back up at him, and he can’t help but cup your face, using his thumb to play with your bottom lip. You stick your tongue out to lick the top of his finger and the sight is overwhelming.
He mutters a quiet “fuck” and stumbles off of the bed, pulling his jeans and boxers down before hopping back onto the bed and kneeling at your side again. You take his length in your hand, going cross eyed at how close it is to your face. He’s huge, and you’re starting to doubt your ability to please him. You inhale deeply, softly stroking him just enough to keep him content as you gather yourself.
You don’t notice the way he smiles down at you, taking in just how sexy you look holding his cock while being stuffed with Jake’s mouth and fingers. He’s never admit, however, how many times he’d jerked off imagining this situation or how many times he planned something like this with Jake.
You lean foward to kiss his bare thigh, leading a trail up to his base and up his shaft, then leaving one final kiss on his tip. He throws his head back at the soft feeling, already sensitive and ready to cum on your pretty face. Jake reaches impossibly deep inside of you and you can’t help the loud moan that escapes, warm breath fanning against Sunghoon’s length. He visibly stiffens before grabbing his cock and swiping it across your lips, coating them with shiny pre-cum.
You stick your tongue out just enough to taste him, but not enough to fit him inside your mouth and he groans at your teasing. The sound is enough to send a shock through your body, bringing you to your second orgasm. “Oh, fuckfuckfuck-“ you’re barely able to moan before Sunghoon quickly slides his cock into your mouth, forcing you to gag and choke through your orgasm.
Quickly pulling off, you take a deep breath before shoving Sunghoon back in your mouth, taking half of him down and jerking off the rest while Jake laps up the mess between your thighs. Your thighs start to shake, closing shut around Jake’s head again, attempting to shove him off of you with your free hand. Of course, he doesn’t let up and just uses his strength to force your thighs back open, this time hooking his arms around them to shove his face back in.
He aims straight for your rim, cleaning the mess that’s still leaking from your cunt. It’s a new sensation, something you haven’t tried out before, although now you’re not opposed to trying it again sometime. Who knows, maybe a second time with your best friend.
You gag loudly as Sunghoon’s hips snap and he shoves himself deeper into your mouth, but he halts when you don’t complain and instead take him deeper, testing how far you can take him until you’re reaching the base and nuzzling your nose against his patch of hair.
You breathe in through your nose to keep yourself there longer, saliva pooling in your mouth and spilling out onto your chin and down Sunghoon’s girth. “Fuck, babe, you’re nasty.” He pulls away suddenly, forcing himself out of your mouth and you get the chance to finally moan, acknowledging Jake and letting him know you haven’t forgotten about him.
How could you forget about him, with the way he laps from your soaking cunt to your rim, eating you out like he’s been starved his whole life. You even catch a glimpse of him rutting his hips against the bed, chasing any friction he can to soothe his aching cock.
“Jake” you rasp out, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes. The way his hair is messy and his eyes are wide and needy is almost enough to make you cum a third time. “You must be hurting…” you nod your head towards him, motioning to his very obvious painful boner. “Let me help.” He wants to reject you, feeling guilty after promising he’ll take care of you, why make you return the favor?
With the way you look at him with pleading eyes, though, he doesn’t hesitate to undo his sweats, pulling them straight down along with his boxers, and then reaches for the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Sunghoon does the same, using his own shirt to wipe the spit from your chin and neck.
Settling on his knees the same way Sunghoon is, he’s already breathing heavy just from imagining you touching him. So, when you take him in your hand and rub your thumb over his slit, he’s letting out a loud whine that has you craving more. You stroke Sunghoon in one hand while leaning towards Jake to take his tip in your mouth. He immediately bucks his hips forward, then pulls all the way back to apologize.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry- ahh!” You don’t care about his apology, only wanting to hear more of his needy whines as you lick from his base to tip, suckling on the head and looking up to catch his reaction. Just seeing him looking so wrecked just from a few seconds of touching has you moaning around his cock, stroking Sunghoon faster with a tight grip.
Sunghoon thrusts his hips, chasing your fist with every pull and tug, his groans and curses raising in volume each time. Meanwhile Jake’s eyes close tightly, one hand resting on the back of your head while the other holds your cheek, feeling the way it hollows as you take him down your throat. The image is far from unholy. Sitting there, taking one cock down your throat while jerking another.
Feeling bad for Sunghoon, you release Jake but continue stroking him, turning to take Sunghoon in your mouth. “Fuck, just like that. Pretty mouth knows exactly what to do, hm?” His praises make you whine, grinding your own hips down on the bed but missing any possible friction.
Of course, even after two orgasms you crave more. You need more whines and moans from both of them, showing you just how good you make them feel.
You turn back to Jake, taking his cock all the way down your throat, staying there, letting the drool spill from the corners of your mouth as tears do the same from your eyes. He’s choking out a moan, strings of curses falling upon deaf ears as you put your sole focus on getting him to finish. You know exactly what you need to do.
Pulling your head back, you gently lift his cock to stroke it as you turn your neck to lick and suck at his balls. His hips halt, thighs shaking as he grips your hair painfully rough. “God, Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, legs continuing to shake as you take him back into your mouth, running your tongue across his slit until he’s filling your mouth with cum.
His whines seem to set something off in Sunghoon, who’s now cursing loudly as he shoots his own ropes of cum across your cheek and down your neck and chest. You don’t know why all it took was Jake to climax for him to finally cum, but maybe you’ll ask him about that another time.
They both stay kneeling, catching their breaths as you fall onto your back against the pillows, legs weak but still sticky between your thighs. “We’re not done, baby.” Jake leans down to peck your lips when he notices your worried look. Falling next to you, he lays down and pulls you on top of him, hands soothing down your sides in a comforting way.
He pulls your face down for another kiss, breaking it to speak lowly in your ear. “Want me to fuck you?” You already know you’re spilling down your thighs again, looking down to watch the way your pussy sits perfectly on his still hard length. You don’t reply, instead grinding down and forward, sliding yourself against him.
“Yeah? Think you can take it?” You’re in a trance from the way he’s speaking to you, holding you, like you’re precious to him. You nod eagerly, sitting up on your knees to rub his tip across your slit, hearing the slick noises of your arousal. Taking a deep breath, you slowly ease him into you, sitting down and wincing at the way he impales you just from a few inches.
Jake’s face is angelic, eyebrows slightly furrowed but his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, turning white at how hard he’s biting. You finally sit all the way down, feeling him twitch inside of you as you slowly rock your hips, falling forward to moan in his neck. His hands tightly grip your waist, holding you still as he pulls out then slides himself back in, throwing his head back in a loud moan.
You thrust yourself down, meeting his own thrusts halfway as he picks up the pace, low skin slapping sounds filling the room. You completely forgot that Sunghoon was behind you, until his hands are palming your butt, and his lips find their place on your back. His gentle kisses up your spine give you chills, clenching down on Jake who whimpers at the sensation.
“Think you can take both of us?” Sunghoon kisses your ear, giving you no time to respond as he stands back up to do something from behind you that you can’t see. “What?” You ask in a small voice, but it’s answered right away when you feel him spit onto the crack of your ass, saliva sliding down and coating your rim.
You try to turn around but Jake pulls you back into a harsh kiss, tongue massaging your own and pulling whines from your throat. He distracts you enough for you to forget about Sunghoon again, while he gently prods his tip at your entrance. “Hoon! What are you- ah!” You’re cut off as he easily slides in, the new sensation knocking your breath out of you.
“Ever take it in the ass, baby?” He leans down to peck your cheek, slowly inching himself in with each thrust. Once he’s fully inside, he pulls back out to the tip just to slam himself back inside. Jake takes this as the green light to also thrust into you again, bucking his hips up at the same pace as Sunghoon.
If you thought you were in heaven earlier, you wouldn’t know what to call this. This act of whatever love or lust this is. Perhaps it was just your friends’ way of declaring their love for you. Or, just trying to prove how a man should treat you, how he should fuck you. You can’t complain though, having both holes filled by big, girthy cocks is something you thought you could only dream of.
And as Jake sensually sucks on your lower lip, and Sunghoon is leaving dark hickeys on your neck, you think you might be in love. With both of them.
One particular thrust from Sunghoon has him throwing you foward and onto Jake’s chest, crying out in pleasure while his grip on your hips is painful. He leans down, keeping one hand on your hip as the other arm is crossing your chest, catching your neck between his forearm and bicep, puling you back up to kneeling with Jake still inside of your cunt.
With your back pressed to Sunghoon’s chest and his length deep inside your ass, you bounce harder, faster, both of them filling you so pleasurably you cry out, tears falling from your eyes as you scream with a horse voice. “Fuck- God, yes! I’m c-cumming!” You go silent with your jaw slack as your orgasm washes over you, every inch of your body tingling as you clench impossibly tight on both of them, with just the sound of light splashing and skin slapping keeping you conscious.
Your eyes are closed but you can feel the way Jake stops thrusting, filling you with his thick warm liquid and Sunghoon soon follows, releasing himself into your hole enough to have it dripping past your rim and back onto himself.
You collapse onto your butt next to Jake, noticing the large wet spot left on the bed covers. “Did…did I do that?” You ask shyly, blushing as Sunghoon nods and kneels next to you, pulling you to lay down with him and spooning you while you wrap one arm around Jake’s abdomen.
You feel like you’ve truly ascended, as if this is the universe’s way of rewarding you for every good deed you’ve committed. Having two warm men holding onto you, kissing you, loving you like you deserve. You’d take this any day, even if it’s with your best friends.
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baby steps | lando norris
pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo)
genre: fluff
warnings: none
word count: 2.5k
summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?
note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !
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When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing.
The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain.
“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave.
You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.
“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening.
“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”
While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice.
“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?”
“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?”
Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.”
You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando.
“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport.
Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.
“Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.
—
The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes.
Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him.
But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both.
“Oh my god, you’re here.” Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again.
“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe”
Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now.
When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered.
“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here.
You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview.
“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin.
Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.” Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment.
“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?”
“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.”
The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.
At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.
“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd. “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.
It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits.
Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights.
“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment.
You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined.
It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you.
It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.
You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far.
“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.
“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder.
----
author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍
#lando norris#f1 imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#ln4#f1 fluff#f1 fic#formula 1#f1 x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#ln4 imagine#f1 fanfic#mclaren f1#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando fluff#formula one#ln4 x reader
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how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy
a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch.
Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar.
Speaking of sweet…
His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.
Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.
He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.
“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.
Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”
“Did you sleep good?”
“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”
“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”
Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”
Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”
“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”
He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”
“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”
“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.
“Get out of the kitchen!”
“What’d I do?”
“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”
“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”
You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.
The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”
Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”
Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”
“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”
“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”
“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.
“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”
Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.
“You’re welcome…”
Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.
“It’s different!”
The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.
“That’s not true!”
“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”
“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.
“Eddie,” you scold quietly.
The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.
“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”
Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now.
“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”
“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”
“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”
You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.
The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.
“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.
You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”
“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”
“Eddie.”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: bug turns one
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Office Sleepover - A.H
a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever
might make this a mini series?
part two here!
‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3
wc: 3.8k
Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?
It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.
"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"
Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe.
Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."
True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.
You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.
The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.
Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"
"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."
"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"
"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.
Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."
He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.
Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.
There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet.
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly.
You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.
His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment.
"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?"
You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.
"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"
"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."
Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.
A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.
The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.
Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door.
A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought.
Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.
With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside.
His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.
It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.
The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.
Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.
He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.
He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet.
A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.
He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.
Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content.
As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it.
"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."
In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.
"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."
"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.
Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."
With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.
"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"
"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"
"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."
"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office.
In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough.
You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.
Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.
With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest.
The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl.
Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.
Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch.
He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.
The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.
"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."
Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?"
In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away.
As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."
The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"
Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."
You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."
Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.
Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#criminal minds fanfic#hotch#hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#ssa hotchner#agent hotchner#cm#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x fem reader#Spotify
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Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 2: Captain’s Dinner
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
Warning/Notes: Captain Price x Reader (on this chapter only, the poly 141 is still building), Oral sex (F receiver), a bit nasty
The rest of the drive goes by in a breath, suspiciously, Simon didn't step on any more bumps, and it felt like being rocking a baby. Kyle got his hand inside your shirt, but as nasty as your acts before, now his hand was just innocently caressing your back, keeping you calm and pliant against him.
At some point, the car stops and you hear Simon talk with someone outside of the car.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
The car moves again but for short this time. And just after a minute or two, the car stops and Simon turns off the engine. Everyone begins to exit the car, Kyle included with you in his arms. You notice people walking around, not too close but enough to see you, and you start to feel self-aware of the fact that you are being carried like a baby by the Sergeant.
“Can you put me down? I want to walk.” You say squirming a bit in the Sergeant’s arms.
“It's faster this way actually, doll.” He responds giving you a quick smile.
“At least put me on your back, it feels weird not seeing where we going.” You say turning your head around as much as you can.
Kyle snickers, making you turn to him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Doll, I actually would be really glad if you let me carry you like this the rest of the way because like this I can hide the fact that I came on my pants like a teenager.”
“Oh.” That's all you managed to say as you feel your cheek blushing. You can definitely feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but he must definitely feel his underwear hardening.
“Soap, Ghost, we will tomorrow at 0700 for a debriefing of today's events. Go rest now. Kyle, come into my office so we can find the key and free our little birdie.” Price orders behind you, relief flowing through your veins at the thought of being free.
Kyle enters the room, Price’s office by logic, and sits you on a desk. And once you are seated, he raises his arm and crouches down getting out of the weird knot of limbs.
He stands before you, free, as you look at him dumbfounded, still cuffed.
“H-how… You could do that?!” You ask looking at him. “I thought you didn't fit, that's why you haven't got out! You could do that?!”
Kyle simply chuckles at you while he adjusts his pants quickly and drops a peck on your forehead whispering against your skin. “Sorry, luv. But it was just too comfortable.” He turns to Price, announcing he is going to take a shower and leaves the room sending you a wink right before closing the door.
You turn to Price, looking a bit shocked still and he picks the key from the drawer at his desk. “Sorry about him, he is a good lad. Hope you were not uncomfortable, right?” He asks as he walks up to you, you put your hands together expecting him to unlock the cuffs, but instead, his hands travel to the back of your tights and he picks you up forcing you to put your hands around his shoulder (almost strangling him for a second before you remember to move your hands above his head)
You let him be, too tired already to fight anymore, and he sits you on the other side of the desk. In front of his chair, once you are seated, he sits on his chair and gets between your legs.
The sight in front of you shouldn't be allowed, broad shoulders making you physically spread your legs to accommodate him, blue eyes looking up at you and warm hands picking yours. “Let's take these off, yeah?”
“Yes, please.” You whisper back, not even sure what you are begging for.
Price takes the cuffs back, furrowing when he sees the red mark where the metal dented into your soft skin. He caresses both wrists drawing circles and then one of them goes higher on your arm up to the bandages. “How's the pain?” He asks looking at your arm.
“Hm? Oh, that… honestly, I always thought bullet wounds would hurt a lot more. It's not too bad, I almost had forgotten about it.” You say smiling back at him.
He chuckles back shaking his head. “I'm definitely having you give a pep talk to the rookies. Sorry about your blouse, as well. I'll pay for a new one.” He says caressing your arm.
“Oh, there is no need, really. This is an old one, I should have thrown it out a bit ago anyway.” You admit shaking your hands to let him know there is no need.
“I insist. And if you get any medical bills, or need any physiotherapy sessions or anything. We will pay for them, we'll take care of you, doll.” He says standing up to his full height still between your legs.
“You keep saying that…”
“What do you mean?”
“That you will take care of me.”
“Yes. We will if you allow us.”
You look at his face, trying to decipher what he means. But the intensity of his gaze pulls the air out of your lungs leaving you breathless, the heat from his body is scorching against you and the ground seems so far away you feel like you falling off a cliff.
“Are you okay, doll?” He asks softly looking to meet your gaze again cupping your face.
“Yeah.” You say softly pulling his hand away and you put a hand on his chest pushing him back. “I-I should get going, I have work in the morning it's better if I get back home.”
“You can stay the night if you want, I'll drive you to work tomorrow.” He quickly responds like he doesn't want you to go.
“Capt- John.” You correct yourself earning a smile from him. “John, I need to shower, and I don't have any clean clothes, really you have done more than enough for me, I will just go home.”
You stay looking at him, waiting for him to move back so you can hop off the desk and get out. But he doesn't, instead, he gets closer and moves both hands to cup your face making you look at him. “You are thinking too hard, doll.”
And then, as natural as it is to blink, he kisses you.
A soft peck right on the corner of your mouth to test the waters, a soft peck on the other side, and then, softly, almost like melting at the touch, a kiss right to the centre of your lips.
He moves slightly back, enough to be able to speak and ask. “You solid?”
And you nod.
You are not even a hundred per cent sure you know what he means, but you know that whatever the man in front of you would ask, you would say yes.
You shouldn't, you don't know him. You only know his name and his position as Captain. You know your mind is not clear, right now he is your saviour, he is been taking care of you since you met, and he is so strong, so gentle with you, so handsome.
You shouldn't be leaning in for another kiss, but you are.
There is always tomorrow for regrets.
But tonight, all your senses scream John Price.
Never did you though a kiss could get you so hot and bothered, he only has his hands on your face and his lips on yours and you are already panting.
He moves forward, hips crashing onto yours making you gasp and he uses the opportunity to get his tongue on your mouth.
You can taste the tobacco on his tongue, swimming down your body. His hands move, taking your hair back into a ponytail and he pulls back. It stings and you groan softly, shifting to a moan when you feel his lips down your throat.
His moustache tickles the soft skin of your neck in contrast with the scorching feeling of his breath. “Who beat me to it?” He asks, chuckling drily looking at something on your neck.
Fucking Kyle.
“Better to erase it, doll.” He says, possessiveness taking over him. And there are no more soft kisses, now he makes out, no, he devours your neck like a madman. Sucking and biting, feeling the mark erupt and your panties to grow wetter.
You bite your lip to try and not make an embarrassment of yourself from how badly you want to moan, and you take his shirt out of his pants. Running your hands under the shirt, needing to feel him.
“I hope you don't mind, sweetheart. Since it is already ruined…” He trails off as he grabs your shirt over your chest and pulls, hard, pulling the buttons of the fabric and ripping it where it didn't give in.
He almost growls when he sees the skin giggle and he dives right into your chest. His hands rest on your waist pulling you forward him, pulling your shirt out of your pants.
You try to take off your jacket, but the sudden movement causes a sharp pain in your arm making you groan in pain. Price quickly detaches himself from your skin to look at your face, alarmed he hurted you. “Sorry, you alright love?” He asks feeling guilty. You shake your head, only worrying him more and then you add. “It's not you, the jacket. Got stuck on the bandages or something; can you help me, please?” He smirks mischievously at you. “Help you to undress? Oh, darling, that's my pleasure.”
He kisses you on your lips again, taking off your jacket carefully and then your shirt. He pulls your bra strap down your shoulder, leaving your bra downside, your boobs out and pushes up. He cups one of your boobs groaning on your mouth when you moan softly and then bends down to get the other one inside his mouth.
He twirls his tongue around your nipple, savouring the taste of your skin. You move your hand to the back of his head, and when he gets lower, right under your boob over your ribs, and he bites you as you pull his hair moaning his name. “John…”
“Yeah, darling, moan my name like that.” He mumbles against your skin before he goes back to your mouth. “You taste like fucking candy, sweetheart. Can't fucking wait to taste all of your.”
“Do it. Do it, please.” You say against his mouth, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“Aw, darling, what a fucking sight. Asking so nicely, how can I say no?” He says between kisses as he undoes your pants.
He lifts your ass from the desk with an arm as he pulls down your pants and your underwear all together. He leaves you again on the desk and undoes the clasp of your bra taking it off. Leaving you completely bare on his desk, while he remains completely dressed. The vest is even still on.
“Fuck… I must have been a fucking saint on my last life to be worth it of this sight, angel.” He says looking up and down your body as he moves his hands from your waist up to your face to give you a kiss. “I'm gonna make you feel good, love. So, so good…” he trails off as he begins to give kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbones, sternum, tummy, and just when he is about to reach your mount. He pulls back making you whine. “Shh, pretty, just getting comfy.”
He grabs the chair from before sitting down, gets closer between your legs and pulls them over his shoulder forcing you to lean on your back using the elbow that is not hurt to prop yourself up enough to see him.
He kisses the inside of your tights, from your knee and higher, higher, higher… you can feel his beard on that soaking part of you where you need him the most. But he doesn't indulge you, instead, he goes back to your knee and high again. Teasing you, leaving you panting, aching, clenching around anything, needy, desperate.
“John… please… no more teasing…” you beg, feeling desperate for him.
“Poor baby, already soaking.” He says looking directly at your cunt, and you feel as he presses a thumb on your clit making you shudder at the feeling and he slowly moves it down your slit, reaching your dripping hole and pressing it, but without getting it inside. Just collecting your juices and driving you mad.
He takes the thumb up to his lips licking it while he looks at your eyes. “Just as I thought, fucking candy, love.” You want to complain, to grab his hair and shove his face against your cunt but the only thing that leaves your lips is a bratty whine, too horny to think straight.
You feel Price chuckle against your skin, and when you finally feel ready to tell him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit turning your brain to absolute mush as you let go of a moan worth of a porn video as you let your head fall back.
He moves his head up and down, letting his tongue move between your folds; collecting your arousal mixing it with his spit making a mess on his beard.
His index finger moves to your entrance, slowly getting it inside stretching you slightly because of the size of his hands. He sucks at your clit, almost making out with it. And once he feels satisfied with it, he gets a second finger inside.
You keep moaning his name, like a mantra almost, not being able to remain quiet when he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your wet cunt. The sounds, the squelch, the sight, delightful.
You have been given head before, but never like this. It never had you begin for them to keep going, to not let you hanging, never this desperate. But John Price, it has you wishing you could kiss the terrorist of your neighbour just for putting you in his line of vision.
He curls his fingers inside of you pressing a point that has you falling on your back hitting your head load enough for him to chuckle against your cunt, but before he can lift his head to check on you, you just get your hand on his head keeping him in place.
Caressing his hair, spreading your legs even wider, he eats you out like a man starved. Like he hasn't eaten in days like he just found a water fountain in the middle of the desert.
You realise then, that the reason why you have never felt like this before with any ex-lover, is because you have never felt this desired. You can feel Price moaning against your cunt, and it makes you wonder who is enjoying it more.
Not for long though, because you begin to feel the knot on your stomach get tighter. More and more tight, you feel your toes curl and you close your eyes letting your mouth open as you feel the knot coming undone like an elevator free-falling. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips that in any other situation would make you feel embarrassed and your tights clasp around Price’s head when he doesn't relent on his attack.
He helps you ride out your orgasm as you cover your face with your hands, the light in the room is suddenly too bright, and after a couple of seconds, you look up at him.
And the sight…
He is sitting, leaning back against the chair, manspreading wide, an elbow resting on the armrest as he lazily licks clean the fingers that were just inside of you. Absolutely content with himself and his accomplishments, a sight absolutely devilishly delicious.
You notice the tent on his pants, and you try to touch him with your feet. But he grabs your ankle, and you don't have enough energy on you to push it.
“As much as I would like to keep going, doll.” He says letting your leg down and coming up closer to your face. “You can barely keep your eyes open, so I think it's time to rest.”
He stands up, goes somewhere behind you that you guess is the bathroom because of the sound of water and a bit later, he is back. He picks you up, and lays down on a sofa, with you on top.
A bathroom and a sofa inside of his personal office, he really is a military captain. He covers the both of you with a blanket, he gives you a kiss to the forehead and before you know it, you are out.
Post-nut clarity doesn't hit until a couple of hours later.
You are naked, in an unknown man's office, far away from home, with no phone, no keys, no money, no clothes, ashamed.
So you do the only thing you can do, you slip away from the sleeping handsome man, get dressed as fast as you can without making any noise and leave the room. You don't even bother to put on your blouse, choosing to just close your jacket.
Once outside, you let a sigh escape your lips. You know the military base, it is actually not that far away from your home, less than an hour walking back.
Are you excited about walking back home at the break of dawn alone? No. Do you have another choice? Not really, not any that would help reduce the walk of shame you found yourself doing.
So you get your hands on your pockets and start doing your half a marathon back home.
And just as the sun is beginning to pick over the horizon, you reach your home.
Just last night there were dozens of police cars, military workers, everything, the whole paraphernalia. But now? It is just dead silence, no a soul in sight, as if nothing has ever happened.
The janitor calls your name when he sees you, he gives you your keys and tells you that the police dropped them by when they cleaned everything.
You wait for the elevator and make your way up to your floor. On apartment 608, there is a police notice, banning everyone from getting close to the crime scene. There are bullet holes and some bloody handprints on the walls, a blood splutters a bit too close to the height your arm is.
You shake your head trying to forget about it, and open your door. Once inside, you lock the door and look for your phone. Only to remember that it must be in your bag, in your car, where you dropped it when you tried to run.
You look at the clock on the wall that you always forget about, and realise you have 20 minutes to get ready if you want to make it time to work. So get at it.
Most of those 20 minutes, go into taking a shower. You feel dirty, mainly because you are, but also because you feel used. You think about Price and Kyle, handsome military men, they have probably visited countries you don't even know exist and they probably have a lover in each of them.
You are probably just another one, and you let them in so easily. They must have barely felt any satisfaction from such an easy catch.
You feel like crying for being so silly, but a voice in your head stops you. The voice in your head that picks you up whenever you fuck something up. Don't cry! Why would you cry?! They used you just as much as you used them! And they are not crying! So neither are you! You made a grown man cum on his pants by rubbing yourself a bit and an even grown-er man basically get on his knees to eat you out! So don't cry!
So you get out of the shower with another attitude, you are going to get a hold of the situation, you are going to get space between these men and yourself, and you are going to be just fine!
“Son of a bitch!” You exclaim when you see yourself in the mirror, if you had thrown yourself down the stairs there would be fewer bruises on your body. Well, not bruises, hickeys.
You huff getting out of the bathroom to get dressed, and then back to the bathroom to cover all the hickeys.
By divine grace, you make on time for work. You are exhausted, starving and if any of your coworkers spoke to you today just a bit out of tone, you would chew their arms off. But luckily, everything goes right.
At least, until you get back home, and the first thing you see when you get off the elevator, is a masked man standing in front of your door.
I guess it is a series now, I don't know where I'm going with it but there is still a couple of things I have thoughts about.
If you guys have any ideas or scenarios please, tell me hehe
And if you want me to tag you on the next part drop a coment 💗
#call of duty#call of duty smut#cod smut#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#poly tf141#tf 141 x reader#price#captain price#john price smut#captain price smut#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#price x y/n#ghost x y/n#soap x y/n#gaz x y/n#ghost smut#soap smut#gaz smut#cod mw2#cod#kyle gaz garrick
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AT LEAST LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU LIE
ᣞ ⊹ ݁ summary: your boyfriend suguru finds the best way to punish you !!
꒰ content: mean!sugu, fem!reader, pussyslapping, praise/degradiation, cum denial, feel like this whole thing is kinda a niche kink
ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ notes: my ‘mean suguru’ drabble was based on this so if some stuff sounds familiar it’s cus i took this n drabble-fied it; also this is for the anon who asked for it <33 ALSO @d0nk3y-k0ng my new-found geto fixation is your fault <33
“Suguru, can you help me?…this thing is too heavy!” you called out, voice straining as you struggled to bring the giant cardboard box through the door. It was way too heavy for you, and of course the delivery people had quickly set it outside the door, escaping the potential work of having to bring it inside. Your boyfriend quickly rushed to your aid, grabbing the opposite side of the box. “I got it baby, where did you wanna put it again?” Suguru asked, setting the box against the wall and looking at you.
“I wanted to put it in the living room. That way it’ll be the most accessible.” You told him. You two hand just moved into your new place and decorating was the sole thing on your mind. You spent hours on pinterest, trying to find the perfect aesthetic for your new home. You valued your home,so much so that you started repeating all those cringey aphorisms whenever you were questioned about your new-found obsession.
“Home is where the heart is, sugu.” You told him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, but what does that anything to do with spending $100 on a house plant?” You let out a sheepish laugh. “Well…I can take care of the plant. Which takes heart…?” You murmured. It was an inane suggestion, which was appropriate for the circumstance of spending $100 on a plant. “Sounds a bunch of bullshit to me.” Your boyfriend told you. He was necessarily happy with all the money being spent on what seemed like superficial things, he seemed to be happy with the results of your decorating.
It took about 30 minutes to situate this new mirror, but for good reasons. It was big, like really big. Leaning, it was taller than you and almost as tall as your 6’3 boyfriend. It was wide as well, providing a perfect view of anyone who looked into it. It was a gorgeous peice of furniture. The frame was a creamy white, with ornate molding. There were carefully crafted swirls and curves on it, with tiny clay embellishment. It had looked like something out of a fairytale, like a mirror that could reveal the deepest desires of whoever dared look inside. It was perfect for your new house, the only thing that wasn’t so perfect was the extravagant price. Your jaw almost dropped when you saw the cost. No way in hell would Suguru let you buy it, no matter how much you beg or how many tears you spill.
So you searched for alternatives. Any sort of duplicate or listing on another site would be scouted out and search throughly before you succumb your wallet to $2,500. You must’ve been god-kissed that day, as the only cheaper listing was $1,700. Still, it wasn’t something you felt 100% sure about buying, but what other options were there? Suguru would be proud of you for finding a cheaper offering and thinking about a budget. So, you went ahead and bought it, feeling pretty proud of yourself for doing so. Did you tell Suguru about the purchase? no way. You’d only tell him if he asked, and you prayed with all your heart that he wouldn’t.
“Sooo…do you like it?” you asked him hopefully. Maybe he would say yes and then move on to something else, and not ask that dreadful question. Maybe, when you told him about the bargain you made, he’d be proud of you for your efforts. “Mhmmm, t’s real pretty.” He put his hand on his chin, as if thinking. “How much did we pay for this again?” Suguru asks, stepping back and giving it an appraisal.
Shit. It was silent for a good 10 seconds. You could feel the way your words dried up on your tongue and died, as if they were too scared to come up. He raised an eyebrow and asks again, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. “How much did we pay for this thing?” Stil not answer. He came up behind you, snaking one arm around your waist, while his open hand went to your chin. “Baby, you gon’ answer me?” His ghostly purple eyes searing yours through that cursed mirror.
…
“I-I just forgot to tell you-…!” you whined, legs buckling as you felt another sharp stinging sensation land on puffy clit.
“Oh, you did?” Suguru asked facetiously. You nod and cry as you feel another slap land on your clit. He then grabs your face with his hands, holding your cheeks between his slick-coated fingers. “At least look at me when you lie, baby.” He said as he guided your face in the mirror.
This was humiliating. He had you spread out on the floor, pussy glistening and your back pressed up against his chest. He had took upon himself to punish you, which subsequently turned into something lewd and twisted. Hence the being sprawled out, leggings and panties long discarded and receiving countless slaps on your cunt. It was painfully obvious that he was hard, feeling his length that was being squashed up against your ass. Your hair was messy and out of place, your skin sticky while drool and tears coated your chin. The worst part? He was doing this right infront of the new mirror and he wouldn’t even let you look away, so you were forced to fully embrace your current state.
“Please sugu. I didn’t mean too…just lemme cum please? You begged, your voice shaky and full of hiccups.
“Noo, only good girls get to cum .” He cooed, his finger playing with your little bundle of nerves. You’d been at this for about an hour now. He’d start to finger your cunt, and then he’d hit it as punishment. The closest you’ve been to finishing was the half-broken orgasm you’d stolen from his fingering, which in return you got another slap.
“Could’ve been done a long time ago. You’re making this so difficult for me baby.” He whispered in your ear, as if this hurt him more than it did you. “So now, are you gonna tell me the truth, or are you gonna keep lying to me? Cus’ trust me, I won’t hesitate to hit this pussy again” He threatened, the hand on your sticky clit moving even more slowly as an incentive.
You meant to shake your head, but when he swiftly plunged his fingers into your weeping cunt, the sloppy sounds of your slick, must’ve drowned out whatever of your senses was left. “y-yes…!”
You saw the gleam of that dangerous smile in the mirrors reflection. “I knew you would. Such a smart girl, yeah?”
Then your boyfriend laughed, a soft and smooth laugh that should not have gone down to your lower stomach with molten delicious heat. Could you blame yourself though? His fingers were pumping in-and-out of you with tantalizing proficiency, making your insides do somersaults. The way that syrupy-sweet praises dripped off his tongue alongside bitter jeers. Your brain was too far fucked out for so many conflicting emotions. “Go on now..say what you needa say to me.”
“m’ sorry for spending your money sugu! I shouldn’t have bought it, should’ve a-asked!” You confessed, buckling you hips in tandem with his fingers. “Ah ah…no moving.” He reprimanded, taking those fingers out and slapping your hole again. Your body jolted at the sudden sting and then slumped back against his chest.
“Look at you, all teary eyed and wet-pussied. You like this shit, don’t yeah?” He catchesized, with that stupid-stupid smirk on his face. “I bet you’re not sorry at all.”
“No-yes-no m’ sorry..! M’ really really sorry! ” You could barely understand what he was saying. Your pleasure was the only thing that mattered right now, all other senses finger-fucking out of you a long time ago. Geto loved you like this though. Fucked dumb and too far down the abyss of your own pleasure to think properly, all inhibitions lost. It was the easiest way to get an answer out of you.
“I think you bought this mirror just for yourself. Just so you could watch yourself get fucked? He guessed, dragging his hands across your quivering thighs. You hated how soft his voice sounded, especially when accusing you. whimpered as he did, wishing he’d just hurry and put you out of your misery. “N-no”
he frowned, stopping his hand in its tracks. He brought his lips close to shell of you ear, sending shivers down your spine and more wetness to your cunt. “Look at me, and don’t lie.”
You looked at him, straight through the mirror. “I promise, i didn't sugu. I just wanted our home to look nice!” you confessed, sniffling and squeezing your thighs together to create some sort of friction for your achey pussy.
Suguru felt his heart melt a little. You were so pitiful with your shaky mewls and whines . He couldn't help but feel a little bad for being so mean to his precious girl. He shouldn't punish you too hard, obviously you didn't know much better. “Aww..look at that face. How could I be so mean?” He told you, trailing that finger up on down your slit. He smiled at how you hips yet again bucked at his wandering digits. “So needy. Poor baby, drooling n’ crying just like this pussy. Guess I should give you what you want, yeah?”
“Mh! Yes sugu, please lemme cum now! I’m so sorry, won’t do this ever again.” You begged. At this point you were full on crying, all other senses overrides by your need to cum. His thick fingertip teased your sopping entrance, re-coating the fingers in cum.
He simply laughed, diving those fingers back into your pulsing heat. “Oh, I know baby. I know. Now watch me as I give this pussy just what she needs.”
#that ending kinda sucked#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#getou suguru x reader#geto x you#jujutsu geto#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#jjk geto#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fanfic#smut#jjk suguru#gojo smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu suguru#jjk gojo#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff#jujutsu sorcerer#saturo smut#geto x y/n#jujutsu kaisen suguru
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