#Receptionist Jobs in your area
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nobody knew simon’s name, his cold glances penetrating souls whenever someone on the force even dared to call him by his first name. he preferred it this way. he wasn’t the kind to blend personal life and work, he didn’t want to look at himself in the mirror without his mask and still see a murderer. his hands were clean, protected by the gloves ghost slipped on each time he reached base. it was soon that the other soldiers almost forgot his name, agreeing that their lieutenant was indeed a ghost.
that was until your worried voice called for him.
you didn’t know of the ghost identity, it had never even crossed your mind that your simon, your sweet and caring boyfriend’s personality would switch into a cold blooded killer as soon as he set foot at base or in the field. of course he never mentioned it with you, he sporadically talked about his job and his missions. you knew he was a strict lieutenant, but you had been kept away from more by the person with the skull mask and balaclava.
“simon?” you asked for the third time the receptionist. she apologetically looked up at you and shrugged. “oh cmon, simon riley. i know for a fact that he’s here. please, i need to see him.”
“i’m very sorry miss but…” the woman shook her head again, “let me call the captain.”
you sighed and sat down by the waiting area until a man walked in and talked to the woman.
“who’re you looking for?”
you stood up. “simon. simon riley.”
“ghost?”
you shook your head, almost clueless. “no, simon riley.”
“yeah, that’s him…” he said, “he’s training the recruits now. shall i deliver a message?”
“no, i need to see him personally. i wouldn’t have come all the way here if it wasn’t important, captain.”
you'd seen price a few times, simon's loyalty to the man was almost like a dog's one, always following orders and rarely complaining. he often talked about him when he was at home, all he shared with you about his threatening job was the friends he made along the way: johnny, kyle, price, gary, nikolai. he'd often go out for a pint –or two– with johnny and kyle, who also occasionally would come to your shared apartment for dinner with their temporary girlfriends.
"follow me." price sighed. you eagerly followed him, as close as his shadow, and the courtyard came into sight. dozens and dozens of soldiers in scarlet training uniforms were running laps of the immense open space under the pale sun, and that's when you spotted a tall and muscular man in black tactical gear. hell, he was hard to miss.
"another lap, smith!" his mancunian accent was stronger than his will to neutralise it. "if my gran was alive she'd be faster than ya."
you'd recognised the voice, of course, even if it was much harsher than usual, but you couldn't recognise him.
you realised, that was ghost. his cold eyes were studying each of the recruit's tired and red faces, his arms behind his back as he barked for five more laps for the ones who didn't look sweaty enough. even his voice was different, but what shocked you was the black balaclava with the white skull drawn on top.
you'd seen the mask once or twice over the years, shoved on the bottom of his duffle bag or drying on a windowsill, but you've never given it much thought, why would you?
"si?" you asked, standing directly behind him as price stood a few feet from you.
his head snapped in your direction at a worryingly fast speed, his eyes immediately becoming soft, then confused.
"what're you doin' here?" his voice spoke, much sweeter.
you kept staring at him, not recognising the man you loved.
he immediately grabbed the crown of the balaclava and yanked it off without a second though. holding the black piece of clothing in his hand, both of them came to cup your elbows, drawing you closer to him.
"love?" he called you.
still at loss of words, you reached to the balaclava and twirled it between your fingers.
"love, talk to me." his voice sounded worried.
"ghost?"
he shook his head. "simon, love."
"we'll talk about that at home." you raised your eyebrows, attempting a smile.
he looked at you impatiently, his fingers brushing up and down your forearms.
you fished in your bag a small plastic bag and gave it to him.
this wasn't like one of the times when he'd forget his lunch at home so you'd drop by and give it to johnny so he'd give it to an always so busy simon ghost; he could see it in your eyes that this was something more.
he unwrapped the plastic bag that you had rolled up on itself. his eyes looked brighter than ever when he took with shaky fingers the finally positive pregnancy test.
#simon ghost riley#simon and ghost are two diff people#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost cod
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all i gotta do
for this anon!
pairing: jake x reader
genre: fluff (?), humor (???), smut
summary: it's your first day at work and you're nervous. however, your trainer is going to show you why you were nervous for the wrong reasons. one week with jake sim will either make you quit the job or never leave.
contains: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, swearing, incest mention, PTSD mention, i try to be "funny" and make "jokes"
word count: 4.4k (unproofread)
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DAY ONE
You stepped inside of your new workplace apprehensively; you hadn’t felt so nervous since your first day of university. Wiping your palms on your pants, you made eye contact with the receptionist and smiled wanly.
“Hello,” you said, resting your fingertips on the counter. “I’m the new hire. I was wondering where I could find…Jake Sim? He’s supposed to be my…” The term that had been used in the introductory email the company had sent to you eluded you.
“Your buddy,” the receptionist said flatly. “Your Park Corp buddy.”
“Yes. That.”
“Jake Sim is on the fifth floor. I take it you’ll be working in data analysis as well?”
You nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
The receptionist smiled at you, but it belied a certain cold humor. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, you too.” As you walked away, you realized your blunder and squeezed your eyes shut.
–
The fifth floor of the office building had all of the markings of a corporation attempting to reel in more younger workers. There was a vending machine as soon as you walked in, the cubicles were arranged as part of an open concept floor plan, and the walls were plastered with positive, empty aphorisms. You scanned the area, wondering which of the people hunched over their computers was Jake.
Footsteps echoed behind you, and when you turned around you saw a slight, enthusiastic-looking young man with a shock of shaggy brown hair approaching you. In his hands he held two coffee cups.
“Hey, newbie,” he said with some affection. “Got you a coffee.”
You took the cup, surprised by his vivacity. “Thank you…”
“Jake,” he finished, holding his hand out. “Jake Sim.”
You shook his hand as firmly as you could and introduced yourself.
“I know,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, I like to do a little stalking before we meet a new hire. Although…” his face grew serious. “You really shouldn’t post such…provocative pictures on your Insta. Someone could get ideas.”
Your face blanched and your fingers gripped the coffee cup. “What?”
Jake’s face broke out into a smile. “Just fuckin’ with you. Sorry, I like to razz all the new hires. Makes me feel big.”
His grin was so wide, you felt compelled to smile too. He nudged you and jerked his thumb in the direction of the cubicles. “Let me show you around, PCB.”
You blinked, then it dawned on you. “Park Corp buddy…?”
“So observant,” Jake said, amused. “Come on.”
You followed him around as he explained where everything was: the copy room, the coffee machine, the water dispenser, the popcorn machine, your cubicle (situated in the middle of the room, to your chagrin), his cubicle (tucked neatly in the corner).
Then he taught you how to use the software. Thanks to your university courses, it wasn’t difficult to learn. Jake’s playful personality also gave way to a maturity that you hadn’t expected. He carefully walked you through the program step by step.
“I’ll leave you these tasks to work on,” he said, pulling up a document he had pre-made. “If you get stuck, just come get me, okay? I’m right in the corner.”
You thanked him for his assistance and started working on the tasks he had given you. It wasn’t challenging, so much as it was tedious. Still, you persevered.
At least, until you heard him approach you again.
“Hey,” Jake said, sitting beside you. His eyes darted around the room. “You were supposed to come get me.”
“You told me to do that if I needed you,” you replied, somewhat confused.
“Yeah,” Jake said slowly, “in case you feel the overwhelming urge to make Jakey’s day and let him help you with something so he can avoid doing his boring ass work. You don’t even understand the basics of being a PCB, do you?”
“You’re using me,” you said, waving an accusatory finger at him.
“Can you blame me?” he retorted. “Sometimes I can…I can feel my soul leaking from my pores.”
You giggled, and he squinted at you in mock annoyance. “There’s no way you’re laughing at me,” he said, trying to fight a smile. “I’m dying, turning into a corpse, and you’re laughing.”
You shrugged. “At least you’ll die at the prime of your life.”
Jake’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oh, you think I’m in my prime, huh?”
“That’s not what I me-,”
“You’re hitting on me,” Jake said, leaning in. He blinked at you like a puppy.
You leaned away, your cheeks feeling warm. “I’m not.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you were,” he said softly.
You were about to say something else, something intelligent and witty, but one of your new coworkers approached the two of you.
“Couldn’t wait a day before sexually harassing the newbie, could you?” He was tall, pale, and had a shit-eating grin that could rival Jake’s. Unlike Jake, who was dressed in a blue button-down and slacks, this person wore a suit with a silky black tie.
Jake leaned away from you, balking at the accusation. “I am not sexually harassing her,” Jake said, clutching his heart. “I wasn’t even normal harassing her.”
“He wasn’t,” you chimed in.
“Don’t cover up for this louse,” Sunghoon said, shaking his head at Jake. “Look at you, corrupting one of our brightest already with your salacious comments. Weren’t you supposed to be writing up a report on the-,”
“You hear this jerkoff?” Jake said, interrupting. “He puts on a little suit and starts using words like ‘louse’ and ‘salacious’, like we’re not in data analysis.”
“I am a data architect,” Sunghoon said, playfully slamming his hand on your desk. “And I will be treated like one, damn it.”
“Quit it,” Jake said, putting his arms around you and hugging you close to him. “You’re scaring my PCB.”
“Your PCB is going to get PTSD if you keep touching her,” Sunghoon replied drolly, crossing his arms.
Jake grinned. “My PCB is going to get PTSD if I do PDA with her?”
Sunghoon said, “Good one,” and they laughed and high-fived. You stared at them incredulously, noting that Jake’s arm was still wrapped around your shoulder.
“Sorry,” you said slowly, “but I’d like to do my work…”
Jake withdrew his arm and tsked under his breath, standing up. “Great going, Sunghoon,” he hissed. “Now she hates you.”
“She hates you, idiot,” Sunghoon retorted as they walked away.
You slumped down in your chair, already feeling exhausted. You worked straight through your lunch break, and as you commuted home you wondered how the rest of your training week would go.
–
DAY TWO
The next day, you felt a little more equipped to navigate your new job. In your purse, you brought some items with which to decorate your desk.
You came into work early, noting that very few people show up at this time. Perfect. With careful precision, you arranged your new trinkets on your desk; a magnetic calendar for your cubicle wall, a little plush doll, a notebook, a nice mousepad, and a little jar of chocolates.
As you’re turning your computer on, you heard three male voices approaching your desk. Two of which you recognize.
“There she is,” you heard Jake say quietly, “isn’t she cute?”
You looked up and waved. There was Jake, wearing a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Sunghoon, wearing another crisp suit. And a third person wearing an oversized collared shirt with dark blue jeans, looking you up and down.
“You’re here early,” Jake said cheerfully. “Excited for work?”
“I just wanted to decorate my desk,” you explained, proudly displaying your newly decorated workplace.
The three men politely admired your table. Then Sunghoon nudged the third man in the ribs. He cleared his throat.
“I’m Heeseung,” he said, awkwardly raising his hand. “Heeseung Lee.”
“Nice to meet you,” you replied, holding your hand out.
You shook hands with him, and Sunghoon snorted. “I didn’t get a handshake from you.”
“You also didn’t introduce yourself to me…”
Sunghoon looked away, the tips of his ears going red. “Right. I suppose that was my folly. Apologies.”
Jake leaned down and whispered, “Isn’t he such a pretentious dick?” in your ear. You suppressed another giggle as you stuck your hand out.
Sunghoon shook it firmly. “Park Sunghoon,” he said with a smile. “Data architect.”
“You told her that already,” Jake said.
“And I told you to shut up several times, not that you ever listened,” Sunghoon retorted.
You glanced at Heeseung, and he just shrugged at you. “They can’t stop,” he said, glancing between the two of them. “It’s hard-coded into their DNA to be idiots in front of cute girls.”
Jake squinted at Heeseung. “Oh, you think she’s cute? Are you into her or something?”
Heeseung raised his hands in self-defense, backing up. “No, no, not at all.”
You sighed. “Could…could I go ahead and start my work?”
Jake shook his head and stalked away from your table. “She fucking hates you, you know that?” he said, lightly pushing Heeseung.
Later that day, as you’re packing up to head home, you hear footsteps that were already becoming familiar.
“Hey,” Jake said quietly, “the guys and I were wondering if you wanted to eat with us at lunch tomorrow?”
You blinked up at him. “No kidding?”
“Yeah. We want you to feel welcome here,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder.
A smile spread across your face, and you nodded. “Sure. Sounds like it'll be a lot of fun.” Like seeing monkeys in the zoo.
Jake grinned, patting your shoulder. “Awesome! Awesome, awesome.” He paused then, placing his hand in his pocket. “One other thing,” he said slowly.
“What’s that?” you tilted your head at him.
“Well, you know, you don’t have to dress so formally,” he said, gesturing at your outfit. “Unless you’re trying to be Sunghoon or something. You can dress business casual.”
You looked down at yourself; your outfit was pretty formal and rigid. “All right,” you said, “I’ll be nice and casual tomorrow.”
“Sounds great,” Jake said, biting his lip slightly.
–
DAY THREE
Work already felt much more comfortable. Besides the three coworkers you had already met, the rest of the employees ranged from amicable to ambivalent, so you never felt tense. Occasionally, Jake would come over to your desk and look at how you were coming along. Or, as you figured, he was just coming to ogle you. Not that you minded the extra attention.
When you walked in this morning, dressed in your more casual outfit, his eyes had lingered on you for so long you thought it could be classed as a workplace violation.
“Very nice,” Jake had said approvingly. “Very…casual.”
“I try,” you had said drily, heading to your desk.
“I’m serious,” he had said, walking with you. “You have, pardon me, a great figure.”
“That’s not very PC,” Sunghoon had said as he passed by your desk.
“So, what you’re saying,” Jake had started, and you were already rolling your eyes, “I’m not acting PC with my PCB?”
You had groaned. “Jake…”
“Great going, Sunghoon,” Jake had grumbled, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “You’re the worst, I swear…”
Now you were sitting with them in the break room, where they were locked in what you could only assume was a longstanding debate.
“I’m saying that it wouldn’t be gay if it was on an island,” Jake protested, “so it wouldn’t even matter, Sunghoon.”
“Okay, but they’d eventually get rescued, so they’d have to live with that,” Sunghoon retorted, gesturing with his sandwich.
“Yeah, but they don’t know that they’re getting rescued.”
You glanced at Heeseung, who was eating a microwavable meal. “What are they talking about?”
Heeseung leaned into you, whispering as so not to catch their attention. “It’s this stupid hypothetical they came up with,” Heeseung explained. “If there was an island, and a pair of adult siblings were on one end, and a pair of two straight men were on the other end, which pair would hook up first?”
You blinked. “Well, the siblings, right?”
A haunting silence overtook the break room. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon all stared at you, and you got the impression that you had disrupted something sacred, something hallowed.
Sunghoon laughed and pointed at you. “See? See? Your little work wife doesn’t even agree with you. Those siblings would be smashing, right?”
“Well, I g-,”
“All over each other,” Sunghoon continued, making vulgar gestures with his hands. “It’d be like…five hours. Sweaty from the sun. They’d be rolling around, sand in their ass, it’d be carnal. Primal.”
Jake stared at you incredulously. “You really don’t think the straight guys would fuck?”
You shrugged helplessly. “Well, they’re straight, so I mean…”
Jake groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Okay. Look. If you were on an island with a sexy ass woman, and she had short nails and everything, and she was fully ready to finger your pussy, you wouldn’t let her smash? Because you were ‘straight’?”
“I mean…no.”
“Nah,” Jake said, waving a baby carrot in your face. “You’re either deluded or you aren’t thinking hard enough. You’d get desperate. You’d be munching so much carpet you’d look like…like…”
“Like a carpet factory,” Heeseung said sarcastically.
“You’re so fucking unfunny,” Jake replied. “No, you’d look like…”
“Like she’s an interior designer?” Sunghoon offered.
“Close enough,” Jake said, sighing. “Real dark day when Sunghoon is funnier than you. Do better, Heeseung.”
“Yeah, Heeseung,” you said, “do better.”
Heeseung scoffed. “I thought you were my friend.”
You shrugged. “I wanted to join in.”
Jake clapped you on your back and laughed. “Look at you. Blending in already!”
–
After lunch you excused yourself and went to the bathroom. When you emerged, Jake was leaning against the wall, playing with his fingers.
“Hey,” he said, straightening up. “Had a random hypothetical for you.”
“Sure,” you said, crossing your arms.
“So,” Jake began, his eyes darting around your face, “if you were stuck on a deserted island…”
You groaned.
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait.” Jake put one hand on your shoulder. “If you were stuck on a deserted island, which of us would you want with you? Me, Sunghoon, or Heeseung?”
You frowned. “Well, you, obviously.”
Jake smiled at you widely, running his fingers through his hair. “Ha, for real?”
“Well, yeah. I know you the best.”
His smile faltered. “Is that really the only reason?”
You frowned, unsure of what to say. “I me-,”
Jake clapped you on the back and snorted. “I was just messing with you,” he said before striding back to his corner cubicle.
–
DAY FOUR
You consulted your list of tasks. Your last, and most important task, was to type up a data analysis report based off of the information you had been gathering for the past week. Jake said that he would look over it for you later.
After spending the better part of your morning working on the report, you leaned back and stretched. Your eyes were starting to hurt from staring at a screen for so long, and you rubbed them.
Jake was next to you before you could react. “Hey,” he said, “how’s the report going?”
“It’s going,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Let me see,” Jake said, leaning over you and scrolling through your document. Your breath hitched; he was so close, you could smell his cologne. If you glanced to your right, you would be able to see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed.
Jake silently pored over the document, his chest pressed against your back. His hand rested on your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he was rubbing it as a subconscious habit or not.
“Looking good so far,” he whispered, and when his hand slid down your arm, you knew it was intentional.
“Anything I need to fix?” you asked, attempting to maintain a semblance of professionalism.
“Hm…” Jake leaned in to you evermore, until he was flush against you. “Nothing I can see. You’re a good worker, aren’t you?”
“I try,” you said quietly.
“A good little worker bee,” Jake said softly, his lips almost brushing your ear. “Just what I like.”
You dared to turn your head slightly to catch Jake’s gaze, and he smiled at you, that easy-going, smile that hid a wealth of sobriety and determination. He patted your shoulder again and leaned upwards. The loss of his scent and touch bothered you, but you didn’t say a word.
“I’ll leave you to it now,” Jake said, stretching his wrists out. “Come early tomorrow, okay?”
“Huh? Why?”
“So I can look over your report one last time before you submit it,” Jake said plainly. “What were you thinking, you naughty little bee?”
“I wasn’t thinking of anything like th-,”
Jake laughed. “I was kidding. You’re so cute when you’re all flustered, though.”
When Jake left, you realized that you had been squeezing your plush doll. You released it and sighed. Then, you continued working on the report.
–
DAY FIVE
You strode into the office early. Jake had emailed you through the company’s email, requesting that you arrive on the fifth floor at 7:30 am. Work started at 9:00, so he would have ample time to go over the report with you.
When you entered the floor, you first noted that there were a few workers already there, hunched over their desks. Just a few overachievers…or underachievers, you guessed.
Jake was waving you over to his cubicle, his hair flopping in his face as he enthusiastically beckoned you. You walked towards him.
“Come on,” he said, smiling at you playfully despite the early time. “Come sit.”
You went to pull over another chair, but Jake grabbed your wrist. “No, no,” he said with a shake of his hair. “Just sit next to me.” He scooted over in his chair, leaving you with a sliver of space.
You were already growing accustomed to Jake’s “jokes”, so you sat next to him. Your left leg hung over the side of the chair, the other smushed against Jake’s.
He smiled at you, then opened your report on his computer. You had sent it to him that night, your heart fluttering even though it was just an email. Just five days at this office was making you as pathetic as Jake and his friends.
As he scrolled through the document, he kept glancing at you. Eventually, Jake said, “You can’t be comfortable sitting on the chair like that.”
“You’re right,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not.”
“Why not just…sit on my lap?” Jake asked nonchalantly, his lower lip jutting out in a slight pout.
You sighed. “I see the game you’re playing here, Sim.”
“Will you play, my little worker bee?”
A shift of your ass from the small slice of chair to Jake’s lap was your answer to him, and when you leaned against him he smiled. Jake’s hands reached down to encircle your hips.
“You really are such a good bee,” he said, massaging your hips.
“I can be even better if you let me,” you replied, your gaze flickering to his plush lips.
Jake leaned his head against the mesh backing of his swivel chair. Your back was pressed against his chest, and your hands reached behind you to stroke his face. “I’d like to test that theory,” Jake said softly.
You leaned in and kissed him, reveling in the taste of his lips. He followed suit, kissing you enthusiastically. Jake’s hands remained on our hips, but they soon slid to your thighs, squeezing and groping at the soft flesh. Jake swiped his tongue along your bottom lip a few times, and you widened your mouth. His tongue probed past your lips, licking your own tongue.
“So good,” he whispered, briefly breaking the kiss. “You’d never let fuckass Sunghoon do this, right?”
“Jake…”
“Sorry, baby,” Jake said apologetically. “I get territorial. I’m like a wolf.”
“Jake, come on.”
“Awoo,” he said playfully before kissing you again. Your tongues pressed together, swirling around each other. As the kiss deepened, you bit his lower lip before licking the mark. Jake groaned into your mouth.
“Little bee,” he said, pulling away once again. He rested his forehead against yours. “If you’re going to do stuff like that, you’re gonna have to commit to it.”
“I want to commit to it,” you said, leaving wet kisses along his neck.
Jake groaned and grabbed one of your legs. He brought it over his lap and dragged your hips closer to his crotch. “Now, you’re going to have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”
“I can be quiet,” you said, resting your hands on his shoulders.
“Promise? This isn’t a big office,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “It’d be a shame if someone heard us and you got in trouble. You wouldn’t want that, right?”
“No,” you whispered. As you stared at him, Jake started to unbuckle his belt. When he noticed your gaze, he frowned.
“Come on, bee,” he said, gesturing at your skirt. “Can’t do everything for you, can I?”
You zipped your skirt down in the back and shifted so you could wriggle yourself out of it. Jake gave you an exasperated glance, so you shimmied your panties down to your thighs.
“And?” he asked impatiently.
“And…what?”
Jake sighed. “Take your tits out, come on.”
The phrase was so vulgar it shocked you, but somehow it was sexy when uttered from Jake’s mouth. The contrast between his disgusting mind and his boyish good looks thrilled you, so you did as he asked. You un-buttoned your shirt down and tugged your bra straps down, revealing your chest.
Immediately, Jake groped your tits, sighing in pleasure. “Feeling up a pretty girl’s tits early in the morning,” he said, almost reverently. “This is amazing.”
The sensation cause you to moan, and Jake immediately sent you a harsh look. He squeezed one of your breasts, and you suppressed a gasp. “I told you to be quiet, little bee,” he whispered. “You said you could do it.”
“I can,” you murmured.
“Then show me you can,” Jake replied, still fondling your breasts. He pinched your nipples, squeezed your tits, pushed them together then apart. After a while, he took one of your hands and placed it on his crotch.
First, you rubbed his hard-on through his slacks, and he bit his lip to avoid moaning. Then you unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. You were surprised by its girth, as well as the fact that he was already leaking precum. Spitting into your hand, you gathered up some of that precum and used it to stroke his shaft. Jake shuddered and gritted his teeth together.
“Nice and slow,” he said, his breathing already labored. “Slowly, baby.”
You heeded his order and stroked his cock while he played with your breasts. He hadn’t tired of them; on the contrary, he was transfixed by them. Jake leaned forward and bit one of your breasts hard, sucking at the spot immediately after. “Look at this and think of me,” he whispered before leaving another hickey on your other breast.
Jake suddenly seemed to remember that he didn’t have much time with you. He took his mouth off of your breast and swatted your hands from his cock. Then he covered your lips with his hand and slowly, painstakingly, guided his cockhead into your dripping, wet pussy.
You were glad you were being muffled by his hand, because you would not have been able to contain your shivering moans. He shallowly fucked into you, allowing you to get used to his length. When he felt that you were ready, he lifted his hips upwards and slid inside of you completely, letting out a heavy breath.
“Now bounce on it,” Jake whispered into your ear. One hand freely groped your breast, the other was clamped onto your hip. You guessed that he trusted you not to moan now.
You had never ridden dick before, but you had a general idea of how to do it. You lifted yourself up and down, your pussy enveloping his shaft. The feeling was incredible, and you bit his hand as you worked yourself on his cock. As you did, the swivel chair squeaked due to the movement.
Jake shunted his hips upwards, matching your movements. His hand moved down to your waist, gripping it tightly. “Faster,” he hissed. “Faster, baby.”
Now that you had gotten used to him, you bounced on him faster. Your ass slapped against his strong, muscular thighs, and you knew that there was no way you were being conspicuous. Your pussy made smacking noises as you rode him, and the swivel chair squeaked like it was going to break.
Still, Jake urged you on. “Come on, come on, fucking put that slutty pussy to work,” he said, taking your tits into his mouth. Both of his hands were gripping your hips, pushing him onto his length. “Keep going. Don’t you dare…stop.”
You were reaching your limit, exhaustion seeping into your limbs. Jake lightly pinched your side, and you gasped. “I told you to keep going, baby.”
So you kept going. You swore you could feel him in your womb, that was how far he was pushing you. “Pussy’s gonna be shaped like this dick,” Jake hissed, leaving sloppy kisses all over your chest. “My masterpiece.”
Warmth filled you, all the way to your core, and you knew you were about to burst. “Cover my mouth,” you whispered and Jake immediately placed his hand over your mouth, rutting into you even faster.
“Gonna cum,” Jake grunted, his thrusts growing slower and sloppier. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up.” With a growl that didn’t dare leave his throat, he fucked his cum into you, his hand still gripping your hip. Slowly, painstakingly, he pulled out of you, and you could see his cum dripping out of you.
He kissed your forehead and uncovered your mouth. “That was so good,” you whispered.
“It’ll be better next time,” Jake said slyly.
“Oh, yeah?” You started to put your clothes back on, tugging your bra down and buttoning your shirt again. “What makes you so sure?”
Jake leaned into your ear again. “Next time, I’ll get to hear you scream my name.”
You pulled away from him, your eyes widening.
Jake smiled at you. “Just kidding.”
#jake sim smut#jake x reader#jake sim x reader#enha smut#enhypen smut#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#I had so much fun writing this#That being said...go to Day Five for smut if you're impatient
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Almost Instinctual
Alastor x pregnant!reader
‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️
Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.
Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2
(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)
(8 weeks/2 months)
You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.
Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.
Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.
Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.
And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.
Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.
(12 weeks/3 months)
You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.
Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.
“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.
You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.
Making people uncomfortable.
Cocaine.
And candy crush.
Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.
Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.
Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.
Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.
He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.
Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.
(Unless he was threatening someone.)
(17 weeks/3.2 months)
You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.
Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.
Alastor had been…odd.
He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.
Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.
Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)
You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.
You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.
Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.
Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.
Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.
(20 weeks/4 months)
First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..
You two had grown a bit closer.
Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.
The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it
You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.
He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.
(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)
(25 weeks/5 months)
If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.
You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.
May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.
She asked to be the godmother.
Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.
Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.
(7 months)
Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.
He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)
He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.
Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.
(8 months)
Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.
After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.
He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!
Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…
(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)
#hazbin alastor#hazbin art#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#pregnant reader#secret pregnancy#slow burn#soft alastor#deer man
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Premium Service [l.jn]
wc: 3.8k || mentions of jaemin, smut
synopsis: “did you hire me to clean or to fuck?”
quitting a job is easy, but getting another is not. especially in the area that you lived in, jobs are hard to find, perhaps impossible.
“this is ridiculous, it says here that you are actively looking for someone!” you yelled into the phone, already angry with the lady on the other line.
“i apologize miss, but we really try to make this work as much as possible—“ click. you hung up. you’re fed up, exhausted even. you turned off your phone before entering your car. maybe a car ride can calm you down.
the number of hours you’ve put into job applications isn’t even comparable to the hours you’ve worked at your office job, days turn into weeks, hell, weeks turn into months and you’re running out of patience. the work is tiring, money is getting short by the minute. you’re thinking about going back to your sloppy old job.
seeing your mail app full of rejection letters every morning made your blood boil, but mostly made you rot in your apartment with the feeling of never being able to find anything, until—
Jaem: hey check this out, they’re looking for housekeepers in the area
you picked up your phone, read the message before typing a reply, sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time this week.
do i look like a maid to you jaemin?
Jaem: i’m just trying to help you out lil sis, plus, it seems like a well paid job, you should think about it
you placed your phone down, staring at your ceiling for a few minutes, you thought about it. while this seemed like some work for old retired ladies, you took some kind of interest in it. so, after a bit, you replied back to your brother.
fine
Jaem: cool! here’s his address, he’s doing interviews tomorrow at noon.
———-
the place looked like a movie set, chandeliers were illuminating the entire hallway with golden statues sitting near the front desk. this was nothing but an apartment building but still— you were obviously in the richer part of the city, so you were prepared to see some spoiled, pretentious and overall disgustingly rich man waiting for you in the lobby.
“hi miss, what can i do for you?” you jumped and turned to the receptionist, nervously biting your bottom lip.
“well, i’m here for an interview, but i think i’m at the wrong place.” you trailed off, looking at the bright red couches near the elevators.
she smiled at you. “i assure you you’re at the right place. it’s for the cleaning services right?” you nodded, tapping your fingers on the marble desk. “great! mr. lee is waiting for you, he’s on the 7th floor, first door to your left. you can’t really miss it, his name is on the door.”
“right— thanks.” she gave you a thumbs up before returning her eyes to the screen sitting in front of her.
going towards the elevator, you repeat to yourself the directions the receptionist told you, waiting for the elevator doors to open. pressing the digit, you wait for the ding, walk a few steps before you find yourself at the door, his door. very nervous, you knock on his door, shaking, a few times before feeling your purse buzzing.
Jaem: good luck lil sis! make some money for me
you rolled your eyes at the text before putting your phone back into the bag. just as you were about to knock again, you heard the door open, your feet ready to turn and run away, mentally scolding yourself for agreeing to take this stupid interview.
however, your thoughts came to a stop once the door opened.
“there you are, thought you wasn’t comin’.” the man said, giving you a slight smile.
“we were waiting for you before i could start.” you shook your head, confused.
“we?”
he chuckles, “yes, we. you thought you were alone?—” you nodded. “many people want this job you know, i’m surprised you even showed up, considering you’re the only one who’s around my age here.” he was a little arrogant, just like you thought about earlier while entering the building, but you couldn’t stop staring at him, he was handsome, smelled nice but your attention was caught when he spoke, voice deep and soft.
what have you gotten yourself into?
————
the apartment looked wonderful, big ceiling to floor windows showed the busy city below, the imported carpets were gorgeous, touches of red, yellow and green gave the living room more color, assorted with decorative pillows on the couches you were currently sitting on. the kitchen was a little dull with grey marble countertops and black cupboards, but the large plants made up for it.
you were sitting next to three other ladies, definitely older than you, one of them eyeing you weirdly made you lose your patience. “what are you looking at?” you spat. you knew this job was for those old ladies that are past retirement, but you didn’t think they’d be so rude. “sorry sweetheart, for a young girl like you, we’re wondering why you’re here i mean— she laughed. “why don’t you find a job that meets your criteria?— you’re probably just here to have sex with this man right?” her and the other two ladies grinned at you.
your eye was twitching and shooting daggers at the women in front of you. just as you got up to leave, a voice made your movements come to a stop.
“ladies, ladies. why don’t we all get along? after all, this is a cleaning job right?” mr. lee spoke. his eyes turning into crescents, “we shouldn’t be so heated over cleaning hm?” his kind expression made you come back to your senses, eyes kind and welcoming. and so, you decided to sit back down on the couch, keeping a small distance from the close-to-casket women.
after an hour and a half, the interview came to its end. thinking you’re surely not getting taken— i mean, you’re young and he’s probably picking women with ‘maid material’, you placed your jacket over your arm, getting ready to exit the apartment, while hearing the women talk besides you. “we would invite you to lunch with us but, we know you’ll have to look for something else, so we’ll leave you to that. good luck though!” you rolled your eyes.
after the ladies left, you scrolled through your phone while looking for your older brother’s contact, getting ready to leave the building when a hand touched your shoulder. “how does monday sound to you?” you hear a voice whispering to your ear. you froze, clearly you’re hearing things right? you turned around to check, it was mr. lee.
“huh? what about the other women?” your body was still frozen. his touch felt warm, so warm. you’ve never felt the heat rise up to your ears this fast before, the man was only touching your shoulder, but his hand was burning your body.
his hand slid down your lower back before he spoke up. “i don’t want rude old bitches cleaning my place while i’m gone, the last one kept misplacing my things.” you looked up at him, pushing his hand off your back.
“i’ll think about it.” you tell him, ready to go home more than ever at this point.
“you know where to find me.” he says, giving you a wink before returning inside.
————-
you eventually picked up the job, and mr. lee even invited you to stay at his place since he had an empty room, free of charge, so you could sleep at his place a few times a week. he assured you that you could call him by his name, jeno, and not mr.lee as it felt too formal for him— you declined as you wanted to stay polite.
the past few weeks have been nothing but normal, the job was quite simple and you had a list of things that you needed to do while jeno was gone. only then, his one and only rule was given to you before you could start— and it was to never enter his bedroom, even if you wanted to wash his bedsheets.
———
“what about the bed? how will i wash them?”
“don’t worry about it. i’ll put the sheets in the laundry basket”
“okay… is there any reason i’m forbidden?”
he smiled, taking a last sip of whiskey before placing the glass down in the sink, indicating that you had to clean it.
“privacy reasons.”
———
it made sense, but still felt awkward as you usually kept the door wide open at night while sleeping. (maybe you should close it more often.)
quite a simple rule really, but you still find it quite odd, questioning how you’ll make his bed after cleaning. without thinking much about it, you tossed your bag in the guest room (now yours) before getting to work.
you started to find jeno a little odd, he’d sometimes come home irritated, locking himself in his room until you’d knock on his door to tell him that your work was done for the day. there was a lot of tension between you two, you’d find him quite intimidating at times, especially when you’d catch him staring at your ass a few times, heat rushing to your cheeks.
now, you weren’t the type to let anyone look at you that way, but with jeno you felt different— ever since he gave you your ‘work uniform’, —which was honestly just lingerie and frankly too revealing for you—, something switched inside him that day.
————
first, it started with cleaning the bathroom floor tiles, usually you’d use a mop, but he insisted that cleaning with a rag, soap and some water would be better. without questioning him, you got to work. his plan was working, it was easy to break your unbothered attitude, you were innocently obeying him to whatever task he demanded. he knew you’d caught him staring a few times, swatting his hand away from your chest or ass whenever you cleaned his apartment.
slowly but surely, he was going to make you his little toy to play with.
he watched you clean on all fours, tiny skirt lifting up every now and then, showing your white lacy underwear. jeno groaned and got up, walking towards you before hovering above you, his hand caressing your ass before ghosting his middle and ring finger over your panties—over the place you’ve secretly wanted him the most these past days.
you jumped, looked back up at him, confused. but before you could speak, you felt his fingers pinching your clit through your underwear, earning him a small gasp.
“how come you’re this wet? you like walking around me dressed like a slut is that it?” you couldn’t bring yourself to realize what was happening. trying to get up from your position, you argued. “what? you gave me this stupid uniform- hey!”
“where do you think you’re going?” he asked. you suddenly felt dizzy, his warm fingers were burning on your skin, in contrast to his cold rings. “i never thought you’d be….” he trails off, both hands grabbing your ass, making you squirm under his touch, falling back onto your cleaning position. “…such a slut,” your body was on fire, panties were sticking to your dripping cunt.
“mr. lee, please stop…” you were lying. you’ve wanted him for a while, probably ever since the first time you’ve seen him but everything felt too sudden, everything was going so fast—too fast even, you couldn’t think about anything.
you whined, wiggling your ass to feel more, arousal starting to drip down your legs. he was right there, fingers so close to where you wanted him the most, losing your mind, the strong facade that you’ve put on over the months slowly crumbling away. “stop? i don’t think you want me to stop sweetheart.” his voice was venom, the bathroom was spinning. you knew there was no way out of this.
you let out a gasp once more, feeling his fingers toss your panties to the side. collecting your wetness on his fingers, he tapped your bottom lip, making you open your mouth, sucking on his fingers. “good girl” is all he says before you hear his belt click and pants hit the ground. “w-what are you-“ oh.
you felt his long fingers stretch you open, the metal of his rings brushing your clit ever now and then, making you lose your balance, falling almost face first on the cold floor. you could barely hold yourself up with your arms, too immersed in your pleasure.
———
for the past week, you’ve been working hard, making sure jeno’s apartment was cleaned up from ceiling to floor. he sometimes tried to get you under him for a bit, but you politely declined each time. not forcing you, he chuckled and went back to his room.
it was sunday. usually you’d go back home on the weekends, but strangely this time you stayed with jeno. he never made you do any work on the weekends, and you were exhausted, so you could sleep in.
you quietly woke up and got ready to eat, taking a pan out of the cupboard, trying not to make as much noise as possible. two eggs and a toast is what you usually went for, so you got that. you didn’t hear jeno sit behind you, placing his glasses on the counter. he cleared his throat which made you jump in shock.
“god! you almost burned me!” you yelled. he didn’t look too concerned so he smiled, making you roll your eyes before finishing up your plate, turning the heat off and rinsing the pan, washing the mess around the sink.
“well good morning to you too darling.” he hums, eyes in a crescent moon shape. you sigh. “mhm. good morning, you could’ve made more noise instead of scaring me and being all silent you know.” you scoffed, placing your plate on the counter, wiping crumbs off.
“you know,—he starts. i think you're playing hard to get." jeno says, flipping the page of his newspaper. you stopped, placed the cloth down, dusting your sleeves before staring at him, already annoyed.
“what do you mean?” you cock an eyebrow, waiting for his answer. “you didn't let me do anything to you last week, are you scared of me?” he asks.
you stare at him, if looks could kill, you’d be in the maximum security of a prison by now.
"did you hire me to clean or to fuck?" you scoff.
he looks around for a moment, then his eyes fall to your shaky hands, fingers playing with the hem of your small lacy apron, pulling the loose strings.
"maybe both. who knew i’d hire a cute little thing like you?” he continues. “never thought i’d be so lucky.”’
“i just think that as an employee, it’s wrong.” you state, trying to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. he looks up at you, grinning. “you didn’t say that when you came all over my floor three weeks ago. you even cleaned it up like i asked you.”
the familiar feeling of heat rising to your cheeks comes back on your face once more, you almost drop your egg on the floor when you hear him say that.
“excuse me? i don’t think you should— he places his hand over yours. "hm. why don’t you love me baby?” he pouts. god, you thought he was so beautiful, you wanted to kiss him so badly but you stood your ground, still wanted to show him that you weren’t interested in any of this, even if you felt your thighs getting sticky.
“i-i don’t love you like that…” you replied. “i mean i’m just here to work, that’s all.” you picked up your plate, placed it in the dishwasher before washing your hands. while you did so, you felt jeno place his hands on your hips, your back facing him.
you did miss jeno’s touch on your body, his wet kisses, his hands, maybe even his dick— even if you thought that was ridiculous— you couldn’t deny it. he placed his chin on your shoulder before whispering to your ear. “i know my baby misses me. you’re telling me that if i pulled your panties down you wouldn’t be wet?” you nod, biting your lip in anticipation. his voice sent shivers down your spine, his hands slid lower and lower until they reached your lower belly.
he hums. “no underwear?”
you shook your head, “i just woke up and got hungry, i didn’t think about it.” your voice was small, you felt defeated and now with jeno caging you in his arms you had no escape.
“liar .”
you suddenly get picked up bridal style, panic on your face. “what? no i’m not! i swear i didn’t think about that— where are we going?” you hit his arm, trying to make him let go of you— to no avail. “we’re going somewhere special, you’ll love it.”
———
his bedroom was dark, you could barely see anything. his bed was large; however, the duvet and scattered blankets were soft under your palms. you heard jeno coming out of his bathroom, as you waited patiently for him on the bed.
“i thought i wasn’t allowed to be here.” you break the silence. he looks at you, hair still wet from his shower, towel—barely hanging— low on his hips.
he chuckles. “maybe i’ve changed my mind, i didn’t think you’d look so pretty waiting for me.” you felt your ears burning again, not sure of what to say. “c’mon, take it off.”
“what?”
“my towel. take it off.”
you do as he says, trembling hands pulling the cloth and letting it fall at his feet. you sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him, waiting for directions.
“what are you waiting for? show me how good you suck cock.” you frown, unsure if you should get to work, his cock was standing right in front of your face, tip leaking on your top, staining it. he was huge, bigger than those college boys you’ve fucked years ago. you started to worry about the size when all of a sudden he takes your hair in a fist and forces your mouth down his cock.
he groans. “when i ask for something, you get to it, and you do it quickly. i’ve been waiting for that mouth for weeks. i think i deserve it, don't you think?” mouth full of him, you choke a few times before he pulls your hair back, leaving spit and drool down his cock. “fuck, that’s a good girl, but you can do better.” his stare made you feel small, but you loved it, you wanted him, all of him, so you quickly got on your knees and stroked him a few times, making him release a moan. you took him in your mouth once more, this time taking him down your throat as much as possible, feeling the corner of your eyes watering.
you felt him twitch in your mouth after a bit, sometimes teasing him by licking your way up from his base to the tip, kissing it right after. the grip on your hair started to hurt, he was pulling hard on your scalp, but you wanted to please him as much as you can. “fuck…fuck— stop i wanna cum inside you.” he insisted and you released his cock with a pop, obeying him.
he climbed on his bed, back facing the headboard, tapping his thigh indicating you to straddle him, and so you did. you felt scared, he was big, it was already a struggle to take him inside your mouth, but your pussy? not a chance. you took your top off, letting jeno’s hands grab your tits, and pinching your nipples a few times. you whined in pain, but you brushed it off and started to unzip your skirt when jeno stopped you.
“no baby, you keep that on for me.” his hands fell onto your ass, groping it and giving it a few slaps, which made you moan out loud. “hmm, you like it? you like it when i play with your ass?” he asks and you quickly nod, eager to receive more. you grind on his cock for a few minutes, your juices coating his thighs and dick, before you lift yourself up and sink down on his cock, biting your bottom lip at the intrusion.
once he’s fully bottomed out, you both moan in unison. you stay like this for a bit, while adjusting to his size. you placed one hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder before you’re ready to start.
“that’s it, ride me baby, show me how much you want my cock.” is all you need before you go faster, deeper, losing yourself in pleasure, eyes rolling into the back of your head, nails digging into his skin. you feel his hands grabbing your ass before he fucks into you harshly. you moan his name like a broken record, his pace almost making you lose balance, big hands leaving handprint on your cheeks. “h-harder please… i want more.”
he laughs. “of course you want more, you’re made for my cock and nothing else, got it?”
you nod. this time, tears are falling down your face. you’re a mess, your thighs are burning from going back and forth, but he just feels so good inside you, you never want it to end.
you don’t even realize that you’re mumbling to yourself, lost in your own pleasure when jeno slaps your face, making you gasp. “you feel so good, you’re so good you’re so—ah!“ he flips you on your back, pushes your legs up to your shoulders, placing you in a mating press position. he slides in cock back inside you, this time making you cry out.
“it’s too much, please.” you grab his biceps, boobs bouncing up and down as he goes harder on your already exhausted body.
“you can take it princess, you’re doing so well already, i guess i should reward you hm?” all you can do is whine, the knot in your stomach tightening more and more, ready to unravel anytime soon.
“my little girl is close, is she? cum with me baby.” jeno’s thrusts are uneven, indicating that he’s close too; and just like that, you both cum together, loud moans and heavy breathing are heard in the dimly lit room. you feel his warm load inside you before he pulls out, feeling cum starting to seep out of you, whining at the stickiness between your legs.
he gives you a small kiss before getting out of bed, showing his signature eye smile while heading to the bathroom.
“you should get back to work, you’ve got some cleaning to do.” is all he says before throwing you a wink.
taglist (those who asked!): @tyxoxo @sexygrass @produmads @jenoslutie @painted-hills could not tag keemburley
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cardigan (3/3)
I knew you, leavin' like a father, running like water
pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!
summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.
word count: 8.8k
previous part • next part
After forcing yourself to forget about Aemond, start having every intention of having fun with your friends no matter what and get a few drinks… you did it.
You managed to have fun and have a really good time with your real friends.
Even though you got your heart broken, you felt really bad and had to endure that ugly sharp pain in your chest along with all that sadness, pain, anger and disappointment…. you drank and forgot about everything to focus on the moment.
You even met new people, all friends of Ryan's.
The next day, in Sara's room at the dorm, you didn't even remember their names or almost half of the things that happened at the party.
Until she reminded you herself and showed you videos of everyone together with those people dancing and having a good time.
Then, remembering what had happened before you decided to have fun, you felt that urge to cry again.
Fortunately Sara didn't ask you about him, it was as if she had forgotten about him and you were thankful for that since you didn't have to talk to her about anything.
However, after Sara does you the favor of taking you home, even though the place doesn't really feel like that anymore, nervous, cautious and not really having the energy and courage to face him, you still open the door of the apartment and enter.
But you get the big surprise that he's not even here.
Incredulous, you think to yourself that he must have stayed with his girlfriend again. And you quickly attend to Vhagar and yourself, wanting to occupy your mind so that you don't seriously cry at that moment.
Did he really completely forgot my birthday?
You didn't even need to know, the answer to the question was pretty clear when you got to the apartment since he didn't show up for the rest of the day either.
And you didn't know if you felt grateful for it since you didn't want to see him or it made you feel worse about the fact that he really had completely forgotten you and your special day.
So the best you could do at that moment, was to take a bath, eat a little and then look for a job again around your area.
You want to keep your mind busy, you don't want to think about him, so you don't rest and you don't take your eyes off your phone until you find a job.
Until you finally find a job at a flower shop near the university as the store's receptionist and where the working hours fit your schedule perfectly. They don't ask for experience either.
That day, even though your head hurts and you still haven't recovered one hundred percent from the previous party, you take pills, get some rest and head to the flower shop.
And the next few days, it's back to living alone in the apartment.
Since you completely ignored Aemond's messages that night, neither you nor he have spoken again, not even a phone call.
You no longer ask him if he will come to eat, what special food he wants in case he does, where he is or where he spent the night.
You don't do it anymore because you no longer want to or care.
You also no longer do his laundry, the little he has here really, and now you simply clean up the mess you make and only buy food for yourself.
He probably has to come to the apartment when you are in class and you are grateful for that, even though you feel more broken inside every day that passes and you see again how he completely forgot your birthday.
He doesn't say anything to you, he doesn't even make the slightest effort, he doesn't see you and doesn't seem to have the intention of doing so any time soon.
Does it hurt? Yes, very much.
But you know you are no one to tell him what he can and can't do, who he can and can't be with.
Just as you don't have to remind him that it was your birthday, nor should you tell him that he forgot all about it.
He knows what he is doing, he makes his own decisions, he is no longer a child,… and neither are you.
That's why despite being very upset, sad and broken, really not wanting to you still force yourself to try to communicate with him.
You've got the job and there's a dorm room available at the residence halls, so now you just want to give him the key to the apartment.
Although nothing would be better than just leaving and nothing else, but you know you can't do that.
After all, he helped you a lot financially by offering you your own space here, basically for free.
But yet when you text and call him a few times as you start packing, he doesn't respond.
He responds very late at night only telling you that he's staying the night with Alys. And when you ask him if you can see each other and talk, he doesn't respond anymore.
Until more days go by and you unsuccessfully, feeling really annoyed with him, you tell yourself that enough is enough.
You ask Ryan to help you transport your things to your new home and you definitely break all ties with Aemond by bringing Vhagar with you as well.
With him pretending you no longer exist, as if he didn't have his best friend living with him, or apparently so it was, so now you also do the exact same thing.
You pretend he no longer exists and just walk away.
And now as you settle into your new home, which is not at all like where you used to live before, you still like it and tell yourself that you will get used to it soon.
It has nothing more than the small square space with your bed, your closet and desk, also a small bathroom.
You only have to buy a small refrigerator now while everything else like laundry is already offered by the residence on the first floor.
You know your room will be a small place for Vhagar but she doesn't seem to mind as she settles into your bed and falls asleep once you start unpacking.
Until the weekend comes and your friends make noise in the group chat saying they want to party on Saturday.
And you, thinking you wouldn't be in the mood, agree to go and have some fun.
It's already been a full week Monday through Saturday morning that you started your new job that you couldn't have liked any better. So you want to get all the stress out.
Most of all you want to get the sadness out of your system because of work, your classes and also because of him.
It's also been a full week since you moved, so not wanting anything to do with him anymore, you head to the one person you know will help you with the matter: Helaena.
Helaena also studies at the same university, she also lives in a dorm room, only that she studies biology.
So once you send her a message asking if the two of you can meet, she gladly accepts and you arrange to meet in her room.
And soon enough she finds herself opening her door to greet you.
"Hi Y/N!" she exclaims happily and wraps you in a soft hug, to which you smile.
"Hello Hel."
"Where have you been? I finally see you."
She asks you as she pulls away from you and looks at you a little confused, without erasing her charming smile.
"You know…" You shrug your shoulders, a little nervous, "I've been very busy with my classes."
And even though that's not the real reason, she still believes you.
"Oh yeah, sure, me too, it's a nightmare. Come on in."
She steps aside so you can come in and you do, immediately feeling nervous because you know you'll have to tell her about everything that happened with her brother.
"Even so, you didn't come to the ball."
Helaena says to you suddenly and you watch her as she closes the door behind her.
"I thought it was weird since you always go to my family's ball."
"Yes…" you say a little uncomfortable, "I… I did…
"But it seemed so weird to me that all of a sudden Aemond took his girlfriend when he said that…..
She stops suddenly, then looks at you with her eyes wide open, now softening her confused face, watching you intently.
"Oh, don't tell me," she murmurs.
And all you do is bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment in sorrow.
"Don't tell me you didn't go because he took his girlfriend."
You let out a long breath and at that moment, taking advantage of the fact that she has already brought up the subject of him and his girlfriend, you decide to tell her everything that happened.
The ball, how you now live alone in his apartment when it wasn't supposed to be like that, his conversation with Alys, his irresponsibility with Vhagar and finally your birthday.
"Oh I'm going to kill that son of a…
"No, Hel, please."
You ask her, not wanting to talk about him anymore.
"It's all done now. I don't want to cause any more…
"You? Cause anything?" she interrupts you, incredulous, "Y/N, you couldn't cause anything, it's all caused by him and his obsession with that girl."
"She's his girlfriend," you say with pain in your chest, "It makes sense."
"Yeah, but you don't put your best friend down for a relationship, Y/N," she says obviously and with an annoyed tone, "And believe me when I tell you that when I met that girl she didn't give me any good vibes. Mother seemed to some point pleased, but Nyra with her look told me everything, so did Aegon and even my uncle Daemon."
"Really?"
You ask her really interested in it, since apparently you were not the only one who felt that way when you met Alys for the first time.
"Yes, really," she assures you, "They all asked about you, Daeron, Jace and Luke too."
You lower your gaze with a sad expression, since you haven't seen Aemond's little brother or his two nephews who have always been very kind and funny with you.
You are also struck by the fact that Aemond did not tell you that his family had been asking about you at the ball.
Maybe he did it so as not to make you feel bad.
"Aemond didn't even answer them, he didn't even seem to know what to say. He just immediately introduced them to his girlfriend," she says with a pout.
You let out a long breath.
"Well, I still get the idea of how much fun everyone had. I saw your pictures and videos on Instagram."
"I just can't believe he told you at the last minute when you already had everything ready that he was taking his girlfriend," she insists, really annoyed, "And yet after making plans the idiot forgot your birthday?" she inquires.
"It doesn't matter anymore, Hel, that was a little more than a week ago," you say not wanting to give more importance to the matter, "In fact, I came here because I wanted to know if you could do me a favor, now that we are talking about it."
Helaena, still annoyed to hear everything you told her, still nods.
"Sure, what is it?"
"I…
You bite your lips, feeling nervous to tell the sister of your best friend, or ex best friend rather, about the new chapter of your life.
Mostly because after this, Aemond will finally know everything soon enough.
"I've gotten a job in a flower shop and I've also moved into a dorm. Don't worry, I have brought Vhagar with me, now I will take care of her."
You assure her the instant you know she would ask you about Vhagar.
"And even though I didn't want to, I had to try to communicate with Aemond, but he never responded and I never saw him around the apartment, so I just left because I couldn't delay any longer. To this day he doesn't even know anything."
Again Helaena's soft, tender face contorts in anger.
"That fucking son of a….
"So…" you interrupt her, taking the things from your backpack, "Here is the key to the apartment and also this envelope with money to pay him for the troubles."
You look at her with a certain sadness and with the hope in your face that she will take care of this after Helaena sees everything in your hands and again returns her gaze to yours.
"Could you hand it over to him, please?"
And now it is Helaena's turn to look at you sadly and with compassion as she looks at your hurt face and understands what you went through and what you are going through now.
"Oh, Y/N…" she says disappointedly, "I'm so sorry for my stupid brother."
And again she pulls you in a soft and comforting hug that you allow since you really need it, even though you avoid breaking down crying at that moment.
You know Helaena probably won't tell him anything, but you still don't want to cry in the arms of your ex-best friend's sister.
"Don't worry, Hel. And nothing that happened with him will affect our friendship either," you assure her in a sad voice.
"No, of course not," she says instantly, hugging you a little tighter.
After a few more moments like that, they both separate and Helaena takes the key and the envelope with the money.
That money was sent to you monthly by your parents and you decided to give it to him. Now with your job at the flower shop, you can get that money back for your needs.
But for now it feels good to give it to Aemond because despite hearing that horrible conversation between him and his girlfriend, you do it mostly to feel better about yourself.
And after talking a few more moments with Helaena, you both finally say goodbye and you walk through her door.
You both agree that one of these days you could go for a coffee together. And just as you are about to leave, Helaena stops you with her words.
Words that leave you completely still, and then you look at her again with a slight surprise on your face.
"I always believed and hoped that you and Aemond would end up together, you know," she says with a sad little smile, "I know you were best friends, but I always had a feeling, always.
At that moment… how you wished her words would have been true.
How you would have wanted that to happen.
You think with illusion, sadness and disappointment, and then just try to smile even a little in her direction, say goodbye one last time and leave.
Later that night, after crying a little and trying to cheer yourself up by getting ready to go to the party with your friends, you arrive at the frat house and the party starts right then and there.
At first, cautious, you are kept alert by the fact that Aemond could probably be here with his girlfriend or with his friends, or maybe both.
But fortunately for you, there is no silver-haired guy with a black haired girl in the crowd, so you can feel at peace.
Immediately the party games like beer pong and drinking begin.
Until at some point of the party, you realize while talking and having fun with Aileen, that again Ryan's friends have joined the group, three guys exactly.
And as you're all dancing together, having a good time, you're drinking and forgetting about everything, really enjoying yourself, you suddenly find yourself dancing and singing the songs at the top of your lungs with one of Ryan's friends, Cregan Stark.
A tall guy, dark brown hair, with black eyes and features that can't go unnoticed.
Cregan seems to have his eye on you and you have yours on him.
Eventually the two start talking, being close, dancing together, even taking pictures and videos of each other, and then the two sit on one of the sofas and continue talking.
The two very close to each other to the point of almost kissing.
Maybe it was the alcohol, the moment, the party or just that you wanted to have this kind of moments with some guy, because Cregan is really handsome and you really wanted to kiss him.
However, all the guys arrived just at that moment to keep you company and rest a bit after having been dancing for a while.
Cregan didn't seem to mind, you didn't really either, you both just smiled at each other, although he had that little disappointment on his face from the interruption.
It remained as that pending between you and that's why he asked for your number.
The next day, apparently that interaction and closeness between you and Cregan was noticed by everyone, but more so by your friends who squeal and excitedly talk about him and you.
You find out that he's a law student, a year older than you, likes dogs, plays the guitar, and apparently isn't dating anyone.
You didn't want to get your hopes up with him, because you knew that meeting a guy and him suddenly having an interest in you at a party is usually not a long-term interest and is just for the moment.
But the expectation went up the moment he texts you and asks you if you want to have coffee with him on Tuesday morning before you both have your respective classes.
And you respond, or well, your friends respond more excitedly than you, that you accept.
"Girl, the guy is handsome, tall, funny and a really nice guy, what more could you ask for?"
And in that, Aileen is right. However… there is a problem. And that problem has a name: Aemond.
Aemond has ruined every guy for you in many ways, both physically and personality-wise.
And even though he wasn't like that, he really was a very bad friend to you and all his decisions hurt you. That's why agreeing to date Cregan is easy.
You also tell yourself that Aemond doesn't matter anymore. He has a girlfriend, he's living his life apart, and so are you, and you and he are no longer friends.
So once Cregan tells you that he is already waiting for you outside your dorm, you rush out.
Excitedly you take one last look in your mirror, make sure nothing is out of place, also make sure Vhagar is okay and head for the door to leave with your backpack on your shoulder and your phone in hand.
But when you opened the door, you clearly didn't expect to see your ex-best friend about to knock on your door with a totally bewildered, confused, worried and to some extent distressed and desperate look on his face.
"Y/N...
And you are totally paralyzed the moment your name leaves his lips.
At first, you don't understand what he is doing here or how he knew exactly where you were now since you didn't tell Helaena anything about your new home.
In fact, you didn't say anything to anyone he and you know together. However, you do know him.
You know that he just by asking anyone he can find out anything he wants to know, including finding people, simply because he is Aemond Targaryen.
And then you start to panic and you feel very nervous because he's really here.
"W-what are you doing here?" you ask him in a bewildered whisper.
In an instant you tense up and hold tightly to the edge of your door, watching him intently and alertly.
"What am I doing here?" he asks in a totally bewildered voice, "What are you doing here?" he says, now certainly annoyed.
"I-I don't… I don't have time for this, okay?"
You try to walk past him, bearing in mind that Cregan is waiting for you outside and you don't want to keep him waiting any longer.
But you can't stop your heart from beating too fast and you can't stop this agonizing feeling in your gut at the sight of him now after so many weeks.
"Are you serious?"
He stops you by taking your arm in a firm grip, making you stand in front of him again, with the most bewildered, confused and annoyed look you've ever seen on his face.
"I come home calling you, wanting to talk to you, having this stupid idea that you were busy or something, only to find out that Vhagar isn't there, neither are you and neither are your things," he says to you incredulously, "I thought something bad had happened to you Y/N, I was so worried. I started to go crazy because I couldn't even call you or send you messages, nothing was getting through to you."
And at that moment, everything you were feeling, is replaced by hatred and anger for very clear reasons and that he, seeming surprising to you, doesn't see or even realize.
He probably wanted to talk to you about your birthday, but he couldn't call or text you because since you moved out and he had no idea, you decided to block him from everywhere.
But really, even though you feel weak from his unexpected appearance, his words don't make you feel anything but hurt and angry.
"And do you have any fucking idea how it made me feel when I called Helaena and she told me you got a job and moved into a fucking dorm just making everything worse?" he asks you annoyed, "All this without me having a fucking idea, Y/N."
The way he tells you everything, you immediately tell yourself that you won't react the same way even though all that flows through your system is one thing: anger.
So instead of talking to him in annoyance because you don't want to and don't have the time to explain yourself more than necessary, you talk to him calmly in comparison to him.
He is visibly frustrated and looks more bewildered than ever.
"Maybe you would have known… if you had answered my calls or messages, Aemond. Or if you had shown up even once at your apartment."
And you overemphasize your apartment.
"All that was over a week ago, much longer in fact, and you barely care to know about me or Vhagar," you say bitterly.
He shakes his head, looking more distressed and worried than before.
"I-I…" He lets out a long breath, "And what the fuck is this supposed to mean?"
He asks you again in annoyance, clearly after he has no idea what to say to the previous and from his jacket pocket he takes out the money you gave to Helaena for him and also the key to his apartment.
"For your troubles?" he raises the money in annoyance, "And the key for what? Are you really going to stay here definitely?"
"The money is because I didn't give you a single penny to help you financially and the key so you have more privacy with Alys every time you get home and I don't have to be there locked up in my room… stopping you," you explain without much interest, "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" you raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.
But he is speechless, staring at you in surprise, bewilderment and anguish, his whole worried expression speaking for itself.
"Did you…" he pauses in concern, "Did you hear us that night?"
You deliberately ignore his question.
"You wanted me to meet new people and go out more, also give you your privacy…well, I'm doing exactly that. Now leave and don't ever come back."
And without further ado you close the door behind you firmly and walk away from him to head for the stairs and finally leave to meet Cregan.
But because of the circumstances and everything Aemond must be feeling, he doesn't let you go so easily.
"Hey, no, stop," he says in a warning tone and then grabs your arm and immobilizes you as you turn towards him.
"Let go of me."
"Y/N…
"I have to go. Someone is waiting for me."
"Y/N, please…" he calls pleadingly, "You don't have to lie, I-I…" he runs a hand over his frustrated and anguished face, "Was all this for your birthday?"
At his question, you say nothing, just continue to stare at him with the most serious look ever, now just pressing your lips together and waiting for him to let go so you can leave.
"Y/N…" he calls you cautiously and with worry in his eyes, "I know I fucked up, I know that….
"Oh please, Aemond," you exclaim irritated, "I don't need any more of your pity, okay? I really don't care what you have to say, it's all done. I gave you the key back and the money too, didn't I? Now you won't have to pity me anymore and your girlfriend will be pleased to know that I won't interfere with your plans anymore."
He lets out a long breath, more frustrated than before and completely irritated by your words.
"It doesn't matter what you heard that night, Y/N. It doesn't matter what Alys said either," he tells you in desperation.
But you don't care anymore.
"I've done my part, now leave me alone."
Again you try to leave but he again won't let you go.
"Will you stop running away!? I want to talk to you, I want to fix this!" he says in exasperation, "I don't want your key and I certainly don't want your fucking money, I want you back with me!"
And that's when you can't take it any longer and you finally explode in anger at him.
"Now you want me to be with you after always leaving me out of all the plans we made for your girlfriend and leaving me living alone!? Do you really think I even want to see you and be in the same place as you after everything you done!?"
He is about to answer you, but a third voice between you stops him and also the whole discussion between the two of you.
"Y/N?"
Both you and Aemond turn your heads and from the stairs Cregan Stark looks curiously between you and Aemond, almost worried.
You know your screams must have been heard all the way to the first floor considering your room is on the second.
"Is everything all right here?" he asks you softly and attentively, turning to you.
Feeling embarrassed that he might have heard everything, which is most likely, you finally loosen your grip on Aemond and control yourself by telling yourself that it's all over now.
"Yes, everything is fine," you put on your best face, or try to, "Sorry, I was on my way out. I didn't want to keep you waiting too long."
"No, it's fine," he says nonchalantly, "Although I did come to hurry you a little," he confesses with a small, embarrassed smile, "At the coffee shop we're going to, the coffee you like is on promotion, but only until ten o'clock, so I want to get there to buy it for you."
In other circumstances, Cregan's words would have made you feel on the clouds, but because of what was happening before and with Aemond present, his words have no effect on you.
Especially because of Aemond's confused and intimidating look at Cregan, clearly annoyed by the interruption, as well as wanting to know who this guy is and realizing that you really had someone waiting for you.
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," you nod in his direction, "He was just leaving too."
You say with a certain bitter and obvious tone turning your head towards Aemond, but without looking at him to which you immediately feel his gaze on you, but you ignore him.
And not wanting to keep Cregan waiting any longer, you head towards him, take him by the arm and lead him along with you towards the stairs, leaving Aemond behind.
After you and Cregan start heading towards the coffe shop, you try to pay attention to everything he tells you, but you can't.
You pretend to listen to him and collaborate a little in his conversation, feeling bad about yourself but you can't help it since all you can think about is Aemond.
And even though Cregan tries to bring up the subject, clearly because it's obvious he heard you were arguing, you quickly evade him.
However, he tells you that he believes he has seen Aemond before and has heard a lot about him. Also of his sister, Helaena.
But overall, this going out or rather date? with Cregan… did not turn out as you expected and as you wanted it to because of Aemond's unexpected visit to your new home.
And once again, you find yourself out of balance because of what happened with him now.
Latch by Disclosure and Sam Smith is heard throughout the house of the most popular party frat house and the one that never disappoints.
At first, you thought about not partying with your friends and Cregan since you weren't in the mood and didn't want to have to deal with a hangover the next day.
However, Cregan is the one who convinces you and now the two of you are dancing along with all your other friends having a good time, singing at the top of your lungs and forgetting about everything.
The whole party is going amazing, you're still not drinking too much, you're having fun with your friends and Cregan most of all.
Until you are catching your breath to continue dancing with Cregan, both of you apart and talking, suddenly your gaze is focused on the entrance of the house and Aemond Targaryen makes an appearance holding Alys' hand with all his friends also entering behind him.
Instantly you want to leave, because you know you don't feel comfortable now with the presence of your ex best friend knowing what happened the last time you saw each other.
And even more so when he notices you standing apart, with that guy from before, the two of you very close and talking, now realizing your presence.
But you pretend not to see him even though your heart starts beating fast when you feel his gaze.
When you stop feeling that he is looking at you, then you see him and still holding hands with Alys both of them go to the kitchen. And that's when you say to yourself: no.
He is not going to ruin this party with your friends. He came here for the sole purpose of having fun, which is the point of the party and so are you.
You decide to leave the feelings behind and continue having fun as before.
You drink some more, resume dancing, singing and playing party games, just forget about him and focus on you, what you are doing and the people around you.
When in the kitchen, while you are pouring more drinks for Cregan and yourself, something happens that you least expected and that causes you a lot of confusion at the same time.
However, somehow you must have known that Aemond would be coming for you.
"Y/N."
He calls out to you and when you look at him, you again meet his gaze a little worried but also hopeful that he might talk to you.
But of course, Alys must be by his side clinging to his right arm, watching you with a certain indifference.
And you, preferring a thousand times to ignore it, unfortunately still do not finish preparing the drinks, so you decide to act indifferent.
"Yes?" you say without even looking at him.
And just with your indifference, which Aemond notices perfectly, only makes him more frustrated, but not wanting to explode again against you, he can only try to relax and start with what he wants to say as calmly as possible so as not to push you away.
"Are you…" he swallows hard, looking at you apologetically and a bit nervously, "Are you enjoying the party?"
However, his question couldn't have been more pathetic for you.
"Yes, very much in fact."
You answer without further ado, putting everything back in its place to finally get out of the way and leave. And that's what you do, you turn around with your drinks in hand and walk away.
But he stops you instantly by standing in front of you.
"Y/N," he calls out to you pleadingly, "Can we go outside and talk, please?"
And you, wanting to take your indifference further, even more with Alys' presence, that's exactly what you do.
"About what?"
"About the other day," he tells you more cautious and attentive than before.
And you frown at him.
"Was there anything else to say?"
He lets out a long sigh.
"Y/N, please…
"There you are!"
Again Cregan's voice interrupts the conversation between the two of you and Cregan, without even noticing Aemond, turns to you with a small smile on his lips.
"I went to the bathroom for two seconds and I had already lost you," he says amused, "You need help?"
He points to the drinks and you nod.
"Yes," you extend one to him, placing a soft smile in his direction, "This one's yours, actually.
"Thank you, my pretty."
And maybe it had been again the interruption of the same boy from the other day, that makes Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.
But maybe it's more from the fact that he tenses up and watches him with a clenched jaw as he hears that word from him towards you.
Pretty.
Both he and you think, but you really couldn't care less as you watch between Cregan and him over the nickname.
And feeling Aemond's burning gaze, Cregan finally seems to notice the presence of Aemond Targaryen himself.
"Oh, hey," he smiles friendly, "Sorry, we've met before, haven't we?"
And Aemond, really annoyed, just bites the inside of his cheek and avoids showing his irritation, as well as the discontent he feels towards the guy.
"Yes," he says without looking at him, with a cutting tone, focusing again on you.
"Yes, sorry again," Cregan tells him again, "It's just that we weren't introduced."
And after Cregan says that, you're sorry but you want to murder him.
Especially since now Cregan is watching you too, already having the smoldering stare of your ex best at you and the guy you're apparently starting to have… something with.
Not to mention the judgmental and irritated look from Alys as well.
And you, having no choice, introduce them to each other.
"Aemond, this is Cregan, my friend," you point to Cregan, "And Cregan, this is Aemond, an old classmate at high school."
And finally you point to Aemond, without looking at him too much.
And again, everything in Aemond contracts and his whole bewildered look is reflected on his face after hearing your words.
Even Alys stirs in her place, watching Aemond intently.
A strange feeling in his chest invades him and all his disappointment, as well as his sadness, is reflected even though he tries not to be.
But the way you said it, your look, your attitude, everything about you makes him feel miserable and makes him recognize that he has definitely lost you.
Especially because after that, you don't waste any more time, you take Cregan by the hand and excuse both of you to go back to your friends, not wanting to be around him anymore.
After the party goes on, Aemond can't enjoy the moment. Even Alys next to him doesn't get his attention, neither do his friends.
All he sees is you, with him, the two of you dancing, laughing and close to each other.
He's certainly never seen you having fun like that before, never in the company of a guy he admits he recognizes; he seems like a really nice guy.
An unpleasant feeling turns his stomach and he feels it in his chest again when you laugh at something he has said, he slips an arm around your shoulders and leaves a kiss on your cheek.
His jaw tenses and he can't take his eye off of you, to some extent starting to annoy Alys by his lack of attention.
And Aemond loses it completely the moment he turns his face towards you, you turn your face towards him and the two of you kiss.
All the friendship that the two of you and Aemond used to have, you and Aemond, passes right in front of him in that moment.
Everything, from the beginning, from high school to college, with both of you moving into the apartment, having movie nights, having breakfast and dinner together, grocery shopping, everything.
As well as all the bad stuff caused by him, which he admits to, like all those nights he left you behind for Alys, the ball and your birthday.
Unable to take it anymore, totally ignoring Alys and everyone, with the hardest look on his face, he leaves the house in an act of desperation and
He moves away from all the people, from Alys, from you, because he can't see you having fun without him, he can't see you with other people, because it was always him.
And knowing that he was the one who caused your friendship to end, he takes a seat on the stairs leading to the house and starts smoking.
But even he doesn't understand himself.
Isn't this what you wanted?
His mind asks him, as confused as he is, who with a bad face and feeling like a complete idiot, continues smoking, thinking that it would be better to go back home.
But without you… it doesn't feel like that anymore.
He stays thinking for a long time, without Alys bothering to look for him, which he is grateful for since he has more time with himself.
While you, still at the party, continue drinking and sharing a kiss or two with Cregan, not really caring that you're among friends and other people.
But the moment with Cregan ends when he tells you that he has to leave, even showing you some messages from his sister asking him to pick her up at a party outside the university.
He asks you if you want him to leave you too, but you prefer to continue having fun for a while longer. You both say goodbye and stay with your friends.
Not long after, however, they all get really drunk. Even Ryan.
So as the four of you leave the house, ordering Uber's and laughing amongst yourselves, that's when Aemond sees you.
Confused, he throws the rest of his cigarette away and stands up from the stairs, watching you intently. And noticing your condition, he actually gets worried.
You can't even stand firmly on your feet.
And all you remember is having a brief conversation or discussion with someone, that someone also talking to Ryan, then you feel yourself being carried, you protest a little, and then all goes dark.
The moment you open your eyes, completely numb and feeling like a mess, the pain in your throat, body and head begins.
You groan under your breath, scrunching up your face and holding a hand to your forehead, feeling as if your head is about to explode in constant sharp pain.
You let out a sigh, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself down so you can get through the pain easier, but it's impossible.
You drank too much, that's for sure, your body is confirming it. But what you don't know is where you are.
Alarmed, you quickly reopen your eyes and look around you, worrying because you don't remember who you left with last night and whether you came to your room or someone else's.
When your whole face contorts in confusion as you realize that this room is not yours, nor is it Sara's or Aileen's room. In fact, this room you know and you know it very well.
You open your eyes wide and don't understand anything, beginning to get seriously alarmed and worried.
What the fuck am I doing in Aemond's room?
You think to yourself as you force yourself to ignore all the internal pain you are feeling and get out of bed.
You quickly put on your shoes, make sure you have all your things with you and leave the room, hoping he's not here.
But of course he must be, because as you walk out into the hallway, with your things held against your chest, you hear sounds and very low music coming from the kitchen.
And as you slowly, cautiously approach, you see him, preparing breakfast, moving back and forth across the kitchen with his back to you.
Hopeful, you watch the door ahead a few feet away from you, then look cautiously again at Aemond, who fortunately has not noticed your presence.
You think to yourself that you could head for the door without making a sound and leave without him noticing. Being here with him in your old home doesn't please you, especially since you don't understand how you got here last night with him.
But you don't care, all you want to do is leave.
However, before you can try to do anything, he turns to grab something from the counter and sees you.
"Oh, you're awake," he says with a soft tone and a calm look.
At this, you don't say anything, you just watch him, hoping that by your look and your posture he understands that you already want to leave.
But he, at your lack of words, continues trying.
"You must be feeling very bad, you were very drunk last night. Here I have left you a glass of water and a pill, it will help you after you finish breakfast," he points to the bar, effectively pointing to a glass of water and a pill."
You look away from him for a second, wanting to let out a snort, since you definitely don't plan to stay here for breakfast and it's silly of him to think so just because you're here.
"What am I doing here?" you ask him, serious.
And by your tone of voice, Aemond is surprised and also disappointed, since he thought that things between you and him would never be like this again.
But how wrong he was.
Still, with relaxed posture and soft tone, he answers you to keep the peace as much as possible between the two of you and you don't leave, which is what he fears the most.
"You were very drunk last night, and so were all your friends," he explains.
"Ryan was supposed to take me and my friends to my doorm," you tell him seriously.
"Your friend was really drunk too, Y/N," he says in a more serious tone, "He couldn't handle the three of you. And I certainly wasn't going to let you go in that state, you could barely walk.
You press your lips together, thinking about the party and your friends, to again look at the door in front of you.
"Well… thank you, but I didn't need your help," you say curtly, "Not now either."
And without further ado you head for the door, catching Aemond unawares, who quickly reacts and stands in front of you, grabbing your arm.
"Y/N, please wait…
"I need to go.
"Where to?" he asks frustrated, not believing you.
"That doesn't concern you. I don't want to be here," you tell him annoyed, again trying to pass by his side, but he doesn't let you.
"Please," he repeats pleadingly, "Please don't do this anymore. Just stay."
"Let me go and let me pass," you warn him.
"At least just stay for breakfast," he insists desperately, "Let's talk and then I will take you to your dorm, I pro….
"Will you stop!?"
You explode furiously at him, unable to hold back any longer, feeling more headache and pain all over your body, but you don't care because you're tired, you're fed up and because you've had enough.
While he remains completely silent and observes you slightly surprised by your reaction, since he had certainly never seen you like this before.
At least not with him.
"I don't want to be here, I don't want to have breakfast with you, I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to see you!" you exclaim annoyed, "Can't you really see that? Can't you see that you and I are no longer friends? Can't you see that you're hurting me?"
"Y/N…" he says to you in a low tone, with a thread of voice: "Don't say that...
"You shouldn't have brought me here, you shouldn't have even tried to talk to me, because I don't want to talk to you, I want to get away from you and I want you to respect that!"
And without being able to stand it anymore, tears start to run down your cheeks, but you ignore it totally and continue watching Aemond with the most hurt look of all.
"Stop trying to play savior with me Aemond, because I've had enough."
"Playing savior with you?" he repeats in bewilderment, "Y/N, you are my best friend, I don't….
"No, that's not true, I'm not your best friend, I'm nothing!" you blurt out again furious, "A best friend doesn't hurt his best friend, doesn't leave her aside for a relationship, doesn't replace her, doesn't leave her living alone and certainly doesn't forget her fucking birthday, Aemond!"
Then again Aemond is speechless, watching you with his eye wide open, his lips half open, while you start crying in earnest, unable to control yourself.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he says to you, in a low, broken-toned whisper.
"No, you're not!" you reproach him, upset, crying, feeling broken, "If you were really sorry, you would have apologized since after my birthday, not until now that weeks have passed," you tell him hurt, "And that hurts, Aemond, it hurts that until now you have realized it, that until now you are looking for me, always treating me as the second option!"
The first tear falls down Aemond's right cheek, looking at you with a hard, but still broken expression.
"I'm so sorry, I really am. I care about you, you know that….
"No, that's not true, you don't, you don't care about me!" you contradict him again, crying.
And finally you are able to pass by his side, leaving him in a state just as broken as you are, while you wipe your tears and try to control yourself, when you can't. You still want much, much more.
There is still much, much more you want to say and you say it as you stop before you touch the door and stare at Aemond with as much sadness, hatred and anger as you can.
"You left me aside for Alys, you included her and took me out of our plans, you left me living alone here with Vhagar, you forgot my fucking bir…
You stop, sobbing and breathing hard, trying to calm yourself down.
"You forgot my fucking birthday for her and her parents while I was waiting for you, believing your stupid promises so that in the end you never showed up and only to remember me weeks later and a real friend doesn't do shit like that to his best friend if he really cared, Aemond!" you tell him crying, "I never was that way with you and believe me that having a boyfriend even so I wouldn't have been."
Then everything, both for him and for you stops, because hearing you crying and seeing you so broken, leaves him completely immobile and as broken as you are by your words.
Words and feelings of yours that he had no idea about.
While you, unable to take it anymore, finally open the apartment door and leave, wanting to get away from here and him, because that's what you want and…. he lets you.
He doesn't go after you, like he would have, because your words, everything about you, has left him completely paralyzed. He had never seen you like that, so destroyed and in tears.
And that he was responsible for those reactions of yours, reactions that he hates to see in you, makes him feel more stupid and guilty than ever.
And at that moment he realizes, that this time he has definitely lost you and in a very bad way. He has lost his best friend because of his own actions.
He feels miserable. More miserable than you.
And after that… nothing was ever the same again, both for him and for you.
You didn't see each other again after what happened in his apartment, you didn't even hear from each other through social media, because you had blocked him from everywhere and that's just felt better.
The two of you continued with your classes and in separate ways, as before, only now he was also aware of it and not only you, now with the difference that the friendship between the two of you no longer exists.
To a certain point you knew that he was still having a relationship with Alys Rivers, while you, you had to realize that starting something with Cregan, something more formal, would not be possible, at least not on your part.
You are still so in love with your best friend and so hurt that you didn't want to start something with Cregan knowing that you didn't feel anything beyond that for him. You didn't want him to be your distraction, because it wasn't right.
Your distraction was something else, something you still don't know what it is but you desperately need. Until two weeks after what happened with Aemond, that distraction showed up.
At the end of another semester of your career, an exchange program was opened for the next semester with destinations to Winterfell, the Iron Islands, Casterly Rock, Highgarden and Dorne.
There were also destinations to Essos, but you decided it would be best to go to Highgarden since with your excellent academic record, you entered the program with all expenses paid.
At the same time that you would go to classes, you would also have your internship with one of the best psychologists by being his assistant and start training yourself with his cases. You would even get paid for it.
The semester lasts six months, six months away from Kings Landing, that being exactly what you need.
So after going through all the necessary processes, you were finally given a departure date to Highgarden to begin a brief but important chapter in your life.
You gave the news to your parents, who were happy for you, wished you much success, and even let Helaena know who texted you to ask how you were doing. You never tried to talk to him.
And after the day arrives, happy and at ease with yourself, you board the plane taking Vhagar with you and hope that this will help you put it all behind you.
While still at Kings Landing University, in one of the coffee shops on campus, Helaena and Aemond Targaryen enjoy a good coffee, both serious, not talking much, just him and Helaena lost in their thoughts.
Helaena let him know the news and honestly, he doesn't know how to feel.
He is happy for you, but knowing that you are gone and will be back in up to six months, with no more friendship between the two of you, makes him feel even more miserable.
"She's in love with you, you know?"
The sweet voice of his sweet sister makes Aemond, in a fatal state, as if he hadn't slept well for days, raise his gaze towards her without really having much expression.
As Helaena shows him with her gaze how terribly honest she is being with him at that moment.
"She didn't tell me anything, but I just know," she explains.
And Aemond again lowers his gaze, running a hand over his chin, letting out a long breath.
"You really fucked up, Aemond. I can't believe you were such an idiot."
"I know," he says in a low, emotionless whisper, "You don't have to say it again, I know."
"So what then?" she says, "Get that brilliant brain of yours working. You can't be the smartest guy in your class and at the same time the biggest idiot with the girl who has always been there for you."
He shakes his head, only feeling worse just talking about you.
"Hel, I don't want to…
"Are you really going to let her go?"
His sister interrupts him with a look more expectant than ever, watching him attentively, while he swallows hard and observes with a serious and sad look Helaena in front of him.
And he doesn't answer because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't have an answer to that question, mostly because he hadn't thought about it before.
Will I really let her go?
He asks himself, but the truth is… he doesn't know.
Aemond knows it's already too late but he also feels that that's not entirely true. Maybe, just maybe… he has another chance. And his last.
thank you very much for reading and for joining me in this short way, it makes me so happy that you liked cardigan very much, there are more stories for you on the way, wait for them:)
besides, there's still the epilogue, that's when we'll say goodbye to this story for good🥺❣
@letmeloveyouuuu @ohdemimonde @carriellie @jennifer0305 @serving-targaryen-realness @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ttkttt @melllinaa @nyenye @hoziersfairy @introverbatim @happinessinthebeing @hnslchw @padfooteyes @riseandreigns4u @shessthunderstoms @strangersunghoon @aemondslefteyeball @1950schick @ammo23 @targaryenmoony
there were many of you that I could not add to the taglist, an apology.
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x oc#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond x reader#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction
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ASTROLOGY notes Pt.1
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ✶ random notes and observations ✶ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
❥ what i realised from observing celebrity charts, Chiron conjunct MC may bring fame but in exchange fans may know a lot about your wounded areas or generally may know a lot about the individual ( including a lot of transformative area of their lives). They become almost like a mentor in the eyes of their fans. The individual with Chiron conjunct MC may be a comfort person to a lot of people.
❥ lord of your Vedic 5th bouse determines how you'll act when becoming a parent.
For example, in 2nd house, individual may gain wealth through having children. Children may be valued, may find sudden fulfilment through becoming a parent.
In 6th house, may bring a lot of health issues to the parent or the child as it is seen as a hard house in Vedic astrology. It can bring unexpected bills to the parent after having children also.
In 12th house, may bring mental health issues to the parent or child, also isolation can be a big issue here. Is also seen as a difficult house to have 5th lord in. May be some confusion when communicating to the child.
❥ Planets near the MC line (if no planets check the IC) can determine and help to figure what career path may be best for you.
-For example, individuals with Moon near the MC line (or IC) can be seen working as a marine, cooks, nurses, working with women, travelling (flight attendant), restaurants.
-With Venus near the MC line, something to do with beauty, music, entertainment, hotels, luxuries, art, pleasures.
-Mars near MC line may suggest working with metal, construction, police, surgeons, engineers, vehicles, a lot of energy, weapons, soldiers.
❥ If no planets near MC or IC line in natal chart, observe where there is a cluster in a particular house with multiple of planets.
-For example, if most planets are in fifth house, expect your work to do something with politics, religious rituals, entertainment, authorship, stockbrokers.
-Planets clustered in 11th house, individuals may work as accountants, in group work, trade and business, financial institution.
-In first, may be self employed, working with the body(like gym, health club, model etc.) politics, publicity.
❥ ALSOOO. The sign in which the cluster of planets are occurring at may also be significant.
-For example, lots of planets in libra, may suggest jobs to do with artists, fashion, advertising, interior design, receptionists, judges, cosmetics, prostitutes.
-Multiple planets in the sign of Scorpio, may relate to drugs, chemicals, scientists, liquids, doctors, nurses, police, occult, insurance.
-In Capricorn, may manifest mining, raw materials, lumber, extraction and processing.
images are not mine
❥ Mars in 7th house individuals loveee to argue, they find it really entertaining.
❥ moon in Scorpio individuals tend to have a missing relationship with masculine figures. its more of an on and off relationship.
❥ what i have learned from Vedic astrology is that planets have cast spell aspects.
-For example Saturn has three aspects and they are 3rd, 7th and 10th house away from itself.
-So say you have saturn in the 5th house. saturn will also have influence on the 7th, 11th and 2nd house in your chart. so if you are studying saturn in your chart, these aspects will also be important.
❥ Virgo placements like to touch but don't necessarily liked to be touched by other people. For example, they might love to massage your head with their fingers or like to carefully stroke your palm and so on.
❥ so saturn rules restrictions, limitations, longevity and so on. so what house saturn is in will determine what will take longer for you to master in your life.
-For example, saturn in 10th house individuals may struggle to find a job at a young age.
-saturn in 7th house people may have difficulty with relationships and may not date until they actually get married.
-saturn in 11th house, this may bring tension and problems relating to social groups and friends. the individual may have difficulty with friendships and may be unfamiliar with big group setting.
⤷ don't forget that overtime saturn matures in your chart and brings LONGEVITY and success in that house its in. Of course aspects are really important as well.
That is it everyonee!! ❣
I hope you enjoyed this post. 🌠
Thank you for reading and once again don't be shy to give feedback as i would really appreciate it. 🌝
#astro notes#astro placements#astrology#sidereal astrology#astrology community#astrology degrees#celebrity astrology#kpop astrology#vedic astro notes#vedic astrology#astrology synastry#astro community#12th house#astrology observations#astro observations
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how you and spencer meet!
receptionist!reader starts a new job at the BAU, and a very handsome coworker shows her around!
content: meet cute, fem!reader, pov you’re an idiot who’s sensitive to blood, fainting for the plot and not in the way it works in real life lol, confident-ish but pretty canon compliant mid-seasons spencer!
—
the FBI certainly isn’t the place for squeamish little pansies…
at least, that’s what you were told in your interview. and you had nodded diligently, ignoring the lump in your throat as you thought about how you almost fainted the last time you had bloodwork done. but as a secretary, how bad could it get, right? you tried to assure yourself of this when you got the job offer.
on a brisk friday morning, you were wandering through the FBI Academy campus in an attempt to find your office. everyone around you seemed to be in a hurry, and no one had given you the time of day when you attempted to ask for directions. so fifteen minutes before your first day started, opposed to the promised half hour, you entered the NSAVC building with your tail between your legs.
the bullpen was empty. you had expected to be met by a trainer, or perhaps the person whose job you would be taking over, but you instead faced a grouping of empty desks. as you peered around the open area, your eyes landed on a conference room with large windows, allowing you to see a group of agents. with a sigh of relief, you headed up the stairs and knocked on the door lightly before letting yourself in.
before you was a circular table seating five people, all with their eyes trained directly on you. “hi!” you chirped. “i was looking for-“
“i think you’re lost, miss. students shouldn’t be allowed access into this department,” demanded a man in a full suit, who seemed to be in charge.
your smile faded as you saw the various displeased faces looking back at you. “oh no, i’m not…” in an attempt to avoid eye contact, you raised your sight to the opposite wall, projector casting images of open wounds and a dismembered corpse. and in only a second, your vision was going black.
—
the white of fluorescent bulbs seared even through to the inside of your eyelids, but despite this you still blinked a few times to shake the disorientation and open your eyes.
your legs were eased up in the air with a chair, brand new pencil skirt hiked slightly up your thighs. you felt the texture of carpet against your back through your blouse and the cool of ice on your forehead. your first instinct was to sit up and reorient yourself, which you tried to no avail.
“hey, hey, easy,” an unidentifiable voice said soothingly. you scanned your surroundings, finding a man with chin length chestnut hair in your periphery who couldn’t be much older than you. he was crouched beside you, apple juice box in hand and concern in his eyes. god, his eyes were pretty, you thought. like pools of dappled sunlight.
it took you a few seconds to recognize him as one of the displeased members of the conference room, and the previous events rushed back to you, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i am so sorry, sir. um, agent. detective? there was a misunderstanding, and that was so unprofessional of me.”
he had a small smile playing on his lips as he scanned your face. he seemed to be entertained by the fact that you were so flustered, letting you finish rambling before he replied. “doctor spencer reid, and no worries at all. a freeze response to gore is a fairly common reaction. while you were unconscious we were able to identify you as the new front desk secretary, we thought you were starting next week so we weren’t expecting anyone.”
you visibly relaxed at his explanation. it seemed possible that you wouldn’t be fired on the spot for this. you took the hand he outstretched to you, helping you up from the ground slowly. he offered you the juice box, to which you shook your head. “i’m okay, but thank you.”
“i would recommend it. after fainting it’s likely that your blood sugar is low, and fruit juice is packed with natural sugars that will allow you to feel better almost immediately.”
“doctor’s orders, huh?” you joked, to which he cracked a smile again.
“i’m not exactly that kind of doctor. but yes, i do strongly advise it.”
so you took the juice box, and spencer walked you down the few steps from the office you’d been laying in toward the bullpen. suddenly you were filled with anxiety once again as the faces you had seen minutes ago holding inconvenienced stares now looked on with concern.
the man from before who was so clearly the leader of this operation approached, offering a hand to shake. “supervisory special agent aaron hotchner, i apologize for the misunderstanding.”
you winced away from him slightly, worried that any further mistake would result in you losing the position you had yet to start. “thank you, sir. i am so sorry for interrupting a meeting like that, and fainting. that wasn’t exactly the first impression i wanted.”
he had an easy smile, that of a reassuring father. “i can assure you that no punitive action will be taken, if that’s what you’re concerned about. if we knew you were coming today we would not have left graphic case evidence up on the screen.”
oh, thank god. you exhaled deeply, feeling the tightness in your chest subside. you stepped back toward spencer, whose gaze had never left you. “what should i be doing now? i was never informed of what my training would be, not to mention where my desk is.”
“linda’s out sick today, which is why we thought you weren’t coming until monday,” said the woman sat in the desk rightmost of you. her hair was pure black, with straight, blunt bangs that suited her well.
“we don’t exactly have training for you today without your predecessor here, so i thought you could shadow my agents to familiarize yourself with the office. and i’m happy to show you to your desk, but since you’ll mostly be seeing our faces daily, we should get introductions out of the way first,” agent hotchner said.
you glanced at spencer beside you almost unconsciously, in search of reassurance. despite knowing him for about three minutes, he was the closest thing you had to a friend or ally so far. and seeming to sense this, he shot you a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes. you felt your anxiety melt a little, and you realized that everything was going to be okay.
—
by lunchtime, you had your things at your desk and nothing to do without a computer login or training. you remembered that hotchner had suggested shadowing someone, but the idea of asking one of the agents made your stomach churn. they sat only a dozen feet away from you, laughing and bantering as if they’d known each other all their lives. who were you to butt into their dynamic? so you sat twiddling your thumbs for the rest of the lunch hour, peeking at the group occasionally to confirm that you hadn’t spontaneously gained the confidence to approach.
spencer specifically appeared to be deep in thought once he got back to work. you thought that it would be best to shadow him if possible, given you were most familiar with the tall brunette, but you really had no business to interrupt his work. still, you worked up the courage to advance to his desk.
“would you like some more coffee, dr. reid? i could go get some for you, you seem pretty busy,” you offered in an attempt at nonchalance. but uncertainty and regret crept up quickly when you received no reply.
emily prentiss, the previously unnamed woman with dark hair, noticed the interaction. with a slight grin on her lips, she interjected. “don’t take it personally. he gets so into his case readings, it’s hard for him to pick up on anything else.”
“hey, pretty boy,” cooed derek morgan from another desk. “someone’s trying to talk to you.”
spencer lifted his head reluctantly, eyes following a moment later. he looked dazed, not quite focused on anything in particular. “sorry, what?”
“i noticed your coffee was almost empty, would you like some more?” you asked meakly. it took everything in you not to run and hide of embarrassment.
he finally registered the question, shaking his head fervently. “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that. i’m perfectly capable of refilling my own coffee, but while i do i could show you the kitchenette? it’s crucial to the operation of the office.”
and with a nod, the two of you headed to the tiny kitchen adjacent to the bullpen. you stood slightly out of the way as spencer placed his mug on the counter, refilling the drip coffee maker for a fresh batch. you watched him card his fingers through his hair, looking around casually.
“so, the kitchen is important why?” you inquired, head tilting slightly to emphasize your interest.
spencer finally met your eyes again, letting out a little breezy laugh. “oh, it’s not. i noticed that you were having trouble potentially asking one of us to show you around, so i thought this was an opportune moment.”
you flushed slightly at the confession, apparently caught red-handed in your effort. “wow, you’re pretty good at reading people. or was i just that transparent?”
“is that a joke?” his eyebrows knotted as he looked at you, no air of humour on his face.
you stared back, equally confused. “am i supposed to know that? do you have a particularly well known judgement of character?”
“well yes, you’re in the behavioural analysis unit.”
and with that, you were sure that you had damaged your ego and reputation in this job position irrevocably.
—
after a brief explanation of the lack of background information provided when accepting the job, spencer assured you that he wouldn’t tell the others. he expressed his surprise that the FBI hadn’t been as diligent as they usually are, and you had to agree.
“i mean, i told them that this was my first job after graduation. i was doing my field placement two months ago, and that was in a law firm!” you stifled a giggle, feeling at ease leaning against the kitchen counter with spencer taking occasional sips of his coffee.
“that’s astounding. they hired me young, but i’d argue that i was overqualified for the position,” he admitted. “you, however…”
you gasped in feigned offence, rolling your eyes. “hey, i learned a lot in that law office! i can photocopy anything you need me to, and schedule dry cleaning for same-day pickup.”
it had been well over a half hour at this point, with you and spencer getting gradually closer until your clothed elbow rubbed against his. no one else had come in, until mid-reply spencer was greeted by agent aaron hotchner himself, who happened to also need a fresh cup of coffee.
“reid, i see that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let our new team member shadow you. but maybe you should show her some places other than the coffee counter?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.
spencer looked caught, eyes flitting from you to his boss. your boss too, you supposed. “of course. sorry hotch, we got a little caught up.”
“i can see that. as long as you get your files finished by end-of-day, it’s really none of my business.”
“yes, sir,” spencer yelped. he gestured rapidly for you to follow him, exiting the kitchen to return to his desk.
you watched him put his mug down and shuffle some papers around before his eyes lit up in recognition. “i actually do need you to photocopy this for me,” he admitted shyly.
“of course!” you replied, just before your smile dropped. “you actually never showed me where the copier is.”
spencer chuckled with you, getting up from his chair once again. “no problem, i’ll show you.”
and as the two of you began walking down the hallway together, the others laughed upon hearing, “by the way, would you like to go for dinner with me once we clock out? i have a lot more to tell you.”
derek grinned. “i didn’t know that kid had the balls.”
—
(hi guys!! thank you for all of the love on my first spencer post!! i’m having so much fun writing these! psa tho: as i said before, i’m a lesbian i just have a weird thing for this one particular fictional man- so if u follow me, pls expect woman-centred content mostly!!)
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#molly’s!
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Yuri Briar - "The Afternoon Scuttlebutt"
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•
In which while standing by the break room water cooler, you spot a certain Second Lieutenant looking absolutely miserable and you call him over to cheer him up. Or; In which after Yuri Briar finds out about his sister being married for a year without informing him; he sulkily goes to work, only to be comforted by you.
🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾
Work was something that was incredibly mundane for you, even of the place that employed you happened to be Ostania's SSS. You actually worked as a receptionist at the front desk but had just swapped out with the other receptionist that was organizing files in the backroom, with you now taking their place instead. But now, it feels like the right time for a break.
The break room is relatively empty when you enter it, which is no surprise, the many men and women employed by the state were very dedicated to their jobs and only seemed to take breaks when they've finished the majority of the work that was assigned to them that day.
Now standing by the water cooler and taking a swig from your cup; you look over the area to spot anyone to strike up a conversation with. You spot a certain Second Lieutenant who looked to be moping across the room. He was staring at a photo in his hand, likely on of his sister, with a miserable expression on his face.
You couldn't help but feel a bit concerned considering how cheerful the superior officer usually was. Especially if he was looking at a photo of his sister and looking like a kicked puppy. It made you wonder if the two of them got into a fight or something similar. So you decided to call out to him and hopefully cheer him up a bit.
"Hey, Second Lieutenant Briar, you look really gloomy today. Is everything alright?"
You asked him in a slightly raised voice to catch his attention, turning your body towards him.
The long haired man looked up from the photo and to you; solemn expression still glued to his face. He walked over to you with his shoulders slumped; heaving out a deep sigh once his feet stopped a short distance from your own.
"Hey [Name], good afternoon. To be honest I'm not doing so great.... It's— It's Yor; I think she hates me or something..."
Yuri muttered quietly, his sad demeanour making an uncomfortable contrast to the incredibly cheerful and enthusiastic man he was just yesterday.
No wonder he looked like he had just left a funeral. Maybe the two Briar siblings did get into an argument. It's incredibly unlikely, but considering what the garnet eyed man had just said it was certainly a possibility. The poor guy just looked so heart broken, it made your own heart clench painfully in your chest with sympathy.
"Yor couldn't hate you, Sir. She's your older sister, it's impossible for siblings to truly hate each other. Why in the world would you think that?"
You asked him in disbelief; your voice showing clearly how flabbergasted you were, yet it was still respectful as the man before was your superior.
Yuri looked down; his bangs shading his eyes but not completely obscuring them from view. To your surprise, you could see tears collecting on his lower lashes. It was hard for you to really grasp that this man was the same Second Lieutenant Briar that could pull information from a suspected spy in only five minutes. But the man was still human, he had thoughts and feelings of his own outside of work.
"Yor... she got married. She's been married– for a whole year –and she never told me anything! Does she not trust me enough to tell me something so important!?"
He cried quietly, his voice small and timid, quivering with each word that escaped his lips.
Your heart twisted painfully from behind your ribcage. The man you had known and looked up to for so many years was shedding tears in front of you. You couldn't help but want to embrace him and dry his tears; it was like an instinct from deep within your heart. Why in the world would his sister do such a thing? She held something that important from him for an entire year?
"Second Lieutenant– No –Yuri... Perhaps she was just worried that you wouldn't like her husband. You're very protective of her, you know. She may just love this husband of hers so much that she didn't want to see you disapprove of him."
You speak softly to him, raising a hand to his face and gently wiping away his tears with the pad of your thumb.
Glassy garnet hued eyes look up at you; dusted with hope. He doesn't bother to ask you to stop or remove your hands from his face; seemingly enjoying the feeling. The man even leaned into your hand as you gently pet his head in an attempt to comfort him.
"You really think so? No... You're probably right, she couldn't hate me, she wouldn't have answered the phone if she did, right?."
Yuri attempt to assure himself, his reassurances sounding more like a question as he subconsciously fiddles with a loch of his hair.
This man was honestly just too adorable. Right now, he could be compared to a young boy being reassured by an older brother or friend. He was so pure yet he could turn his personality on a dime, no question asked. Yuri Briar was an enigma; a concept that you couldn't ever hope to grasp but you would still try. Why give up on someone so inspirational such as him?
"Of course, Sir. Here, help yourself to some water. You may have only cried a little, but I won't let you become dehydrated on my watch."
You tell him softly, grabbing and filling another disposable paper cup and passing it into the blackette's awaiting hand.
Yuri cheeks pinken a bit as he takes the cup from your hand. He looks down at it with sparkling eyes; wondering just how someone other than his older sister could make him feel better so effectively. A small smile slowly worms it's way onto his face as he takes a sip from his cup. It's like his coworkers are a part of his family now... yeah... he likes the sound of that.
🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾•♡•🍾
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
#male reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#spy x family#spy family#yuri briar#spy x family yuri#spy family yuri#spy x family x reader#spy x family x gender neutral reader#spy x family x male reader#spy x family x gn reader#spy family x gn reader#spy family x gender neutral reader#spy family x reader#spy family x male reader#yuri briar x reader#yuri briar x male reader#yuri briar x gn reader#yuri briar x gender neutral reader#yuri x reader#yuri x male reader#yuri x gn reader#yuri x gender neutral reader#spy × family#spy × family yuri#spy × family x reader#spy × family x male reader#spy × family x gn reader#spy × family x gender neutral reader
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Lia Wälti | first meeting (fluff blurb)
You cursed to yourself as you rushed around your new London apartment. Of course, you woke up late on your first day at a new job. You hurried around your apartment, attempting to do everything you normally do in the mornings in a condensed amount of time.
You were set to join Arsenal Women’s medical staff as a new physical therapist, though after being late on your first day, you weren’t sure if they’d keep you around. Hurrying to your car, you were quickly on your way to the training grounds, doing your best to follow the rules of the road in a speedy manner.
It was like the universe was set on punishing you for something today as you huffed annoyingly as traffic came to a stop. You watched the time tick by, becoming later and later as the seconds passed. You fought to resist rolling your eyes as you watched a horse and buggy trot past you, but your annoyance had reached its peak as you failed to keep your eyes from rolling.
With traffic now moving again, you went as fast as you legally could to reach the training grounds before your new job ended before you could even start. You sighed loudly in your car as you reached your destination and quickly found your parking spot near the front door.
You hurriedly grabbed your things and rushed inside, practically out of breath as you explained to the receptionist who you were and what you were doing here. He gave you directions towards the medical staff’s offices and you were on your way, not wanting to be any later than you already were.
Just as you turned the last corner, a body collided with yours, sending your things to the ground. You didn’t bother looking up at the person who ran into you as you quickly bent down to gather things. Just as you went to reach for your phone, the other person’s hand grabbed it for you.
“I am so so sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be coming this way,” a soft voice broke you from your thoughts, finally gaining your attention for the first time. You looked up from where you were hunched over on the ground, making eye contact with Lia Wälti. You felt nervous holding eye contact with her, you knew who she was but seeing her in person changed everything for you.
You quickly stood up before taking your phone from the midfielder’s hands, mumbling a quiet “thank you.”
“Are you new? I would have remembered seeing you here before,” the footballer asked softly as her eyes stayed locked with yours.
“Um, yeah. I’m one of the new PTs. I’m Y/n,” you spoke as you checked the time on your phone seeing that you were at least thirty minutes late.
“Right, they told us we were getting someone new. C’mon, I’ll show you where all the offices are,” Lia offered before turning to go back the way she was originally coming from.
You shook your head to clear your thoughts before rushing to catch up with her. The short walk to the medical staff area was spent in silence as you went over different excuses you may be able to use in an attempt to not lose the job you haven’t started.
“Here we are,” Lia spoke as you both came to a stop in front of a door that read “medical staff.”
You sent the footballer a small smile before moving to open the door. Before you could get through the threshold, Lia’s hand reached out to grab your wrist, pulling you to a stop.
“Would you like to get coffee or something sometime,” the midfielder smiled as a light blush coated her cheeks.
“I’d love that,” you respond with a small smile, handing your phone back to Lia to put her number in your phone. You were already late and if they were going to fire you on the first date, at least you got a date out of it.
Lia handed your phone back before leaving you standing in the middle of the door. You could hear voices from inside the office that pulled you from your thoughts. You quickly shook your head before heading into the offices, mentally hoping that you would be able to keep your job which would mean seeing Lia more often.
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Oh, Mr mosses (Series!) V
Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being. Now, his Mimic has taken a liking to you too.
Will you be as smitten of them as they are of you? Only time will tell.
Author Note: Hello everyone, a bit longer of a chapter but thats okay! After Thursday I will be final free! Which means I'll have more time for writing and answering requests, thank you for your patience! <3
Warnings: Blood, Obsessive/Possessive behavior, Stalking, Talk about Death, Mutilation.
Also available on AO3!
Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy @skully-skeleton-bone0106 @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-tiger-lover78 @itoshilvr @wilddreamer98 (Let me know if you want to be added!)
God, even the way she laid there, limp against the office wall was everything to him.
Biting down on 28 only crunches and squelches echoed through the room, the said man laid in pieces by his feet.
He casually sat there in her squeaky chair, munching on a limb like it was normal; an everyday hobby.
Humming a familiar tune he threw the rest of the arm past him, somewhere towards the cabinets, he had to guess.
With his feet on the desk he sighed.
Soon the D.D.D would learn of his presence, his safety would be at risk and his little toy would be in even more danger than she already was.
Maybe he would take her, hide her away to be his little wife. That is what they’re called, aren’t they?
First things first; he had to dispose of the replica.
Clicking his teeth he scratched his nails on the wood beside him.
That fucking fool. A useless mirror image he copied.
He had to learn everything about the man before taking his face; starting with his job, his hobbies, his routes, down to the fucking shampoo he preferred. Until it got to his favorite area, the most recent addition in his life; the pretty receptionist.
He knew it would be so easy to manipulate the woman. Her mind was so weak compared to him, with just a tad bit of bending (Mentally and a bit physically), he molded her perfectly for him.
Enough to not only get access to the building, but to her as well.
She groaned as she laid there, she must be having a nightmare. He hoped it involved him, with some image of the mimic biting chunks out or flesh, kissing them as he went on. Holding back a grin he decided to move her, before someone else were to poke their nose in the already bloodied business of theirs. He pulled her up until she reached his chest and eyed the old corroded clipboard by the door.
Going down the list of names he got to her; room 24 Level 2.
Stepping through the red he rubbed his feet on 28’s corpse, letting the leftover blood dry on his once white, button up. We wouldn’t want a little trail now would we?
Clicking the green button he passed 28 once more, whistling lowly as the elevator pushed its doors open with a groan.
Stepping in his clawed finger pressed the second button on the wall, watched as the doors came together with a satisfying thunk.
Belly satiated and full, he looked down at the woman in his arms, her head was lolled to the side, leaning firmly on his chest. Grinning wide he bent towards her, pressing a sloppy, bloody kiss to her forehead, cheek and nose.
The box dinged once again, the doors slid open loudly to indicate their arrival to her floor.
Walking through the corridor, he read the numbers idly
10, 12, 14,
A turn left
16, 18, 20-
A creek escaped, some neighbor had opened their door, just up ahead.
It was that rich suited prick.
“Ah! Francis, lovely to- is that the receptionist?” His grin was hesitant, eying the girl with bloody marks on her face.
He could kill him now, but it would be more of a mess to deal with, he doubted he could hide another body from the D.D.D.
Mustering up a smile, his sharp teeth gritted together.
“She’s ah, not feeling well,” attempting to move past the pompous man and walk towards her door just steps away, the man stopped them once more and put a hand out for extra measure.
Growling he slowly turned, met the eyes of the man once more.
“Do we have a problem,” he gritted, claws digging into the poor girl below him.
“Well- ah, tell her to visit me when she feels up to it,”
He put his hand back at his side, rubbing his fingers idly.
“I have a job opportunity for her, you see!”
Not bothering to waste anymore time, he pressed on to her room. Ignoring the suited man's stares as he clicked her key into place, shoving them both inside before slamming the door.
“Fucking prick.” He muttered.
But now he was all alone, could touch and prod at the girl with no interruptions.
Looking around he noticed the apartment was tidy; everything had a place, plants sat by the darkened windowsill and beside them, a full bookcase was laid about. Her kitchen was spotless, only a few decorative items littered the counters while the sink was, of course, empty.
Holding her up with one hand he scratched at his gums, pieces of bone were starting to prod against his teeth, becoming more annoying than painful.
Looking for her bedroom he propped open a door with his shoulder, and with a thump, dumped her unceremoniously on the mattress.
It was then, he realized.
“Oh fuck.”
Bolting angrily back towards the door, the hallway and elevator as fast as he could, he bit down on his annoyingly human cheek; hard.
He left the elevator unlocked.
Any other mimic could come through freely and he really couldn’t have that.
Another competition for his food? Yeah no, fuck that. He hated how territorial his kind was, made everything a pain in the ass to retrieve and made survival even more strenuous.
It’s why he found himself here; In this little rundown apartment, with surprisingly good security.
Being denied and caught over and over made everything so much more satisfying, because he knew that if he waited- stuck around for the right moment, he’d get in.
Watched plenty of his kind die too, before deciding to take a shape of his own, and finally, making his way to the pretty and gullible receptionist.
Mashing the first floor button he clawed at his face, light red marks dented down with each press of his fingers.
Ironically enough, he’s the one that has to distinguish between what’s real and fake now.
Waiting for the elevator he growled.
“What a pain in the ass.”
——
The milkman was tired. Getting in, absolutely no one was there to check his ID, and he wondered if the receptionist was okay (Yet again). It seemed that lately, that’s all he could think about. Her health, the way she smiled, her pretty hands.
Not once had she missed any of her shifts, and although he had only been there for a short time, he would always hear from the neighbors how dutiful she was.
Come sickness, fatigue, anything, she would be there.
Walking past the office, his fingers shook cautiously by his sides.
Enough was enough, he would talk to her, he couldn’t avoid her forever and his little, “crush,” wasn’t going away anytime soon.
So with a long intake of air. He pressed her floor number.
It was now or never.
The doors closed, and the travel up began.
Floor1
Ding!
Floor 2
Ding!
With his head pointed downwards he heard the doors sliding open before walking forward, passing a quick figure to his left. Not bothering to greet them he kept his head down.
The anxiety was getting to him and wait- he didn’t even know what room she was in!
Head up, he turned back toward the figure that passed him.
They obviously resided on this floor, maybe he could attempt to ask them about her room without completely looking like a creep.
But what he saw he just couldn’t explain- rationally describe.
His face stared back at him, it was set in a scowl while he noticed vast amounts of blood adorned his usually crisp white shirt. The doors were on their way to closing, and this version of him reached out to stop it.
He was too late, the metal doors crashed together and Francis could feel his heart jumping out of his chest.
What the actual fuck was going on.
Was he that tired?
Grabbing his face he turned back, mumbling incessant comforts to stop the beats of his heart from getting any faster.
He needed to find her room, and fast.
-
The first thing she noticed was her head. It boomed with an unfathomable amount of pressure, and she was hesitant to open her eyes.
She felt around, immediately recognizing the comfort of her own duvet, the silkiness of her pillows, the faint wafts of the candle she lit the night prior. It calmed the tenseness found between her shoulders, instantly relaxing against the cushioned material.
With a muffled groan she allowed her eyelids to slink up, her messy room greeted her vision.
Not remembering the trip up, she laid there, stretched out and confused.
Craning her head just off the side of the bed, the receptionist glanced towards the hallway; to her front door that was wide open.
Jerking up, her feet collided with one another, and looking more like a newborn calf than human she attempted her way to the front of the room.
Never before had a fatigue caused this much confusion; chaos to her mind.
Something had to be wrong.
She remembered clocking in, idly sitting by as the clock ticked and ticked. After that it was all blank- it startled her to no end.
With a hand on the door frame her figure leaned on the wall, just outside her abode.
Biting her lip she held back a whimper, the bright lights of the hall burned her eyes, she tried to go off of memory, closing her eyes as she felt for every familiar bump and groove of the space.
Turning to where she remembered the elevator was, someone bumped into her- hard.
“My goodness!” That voice… could it really be?
“Francis?”
Squinting her eyes she blinked repeatedly, trying to get the figure to focus in her vision.
“H-Hey,” the deep voice answered back, smiling, as she knew it was the tired mailman. Only he could have such a serious yet flustered sounding voice.
“I've been looking for you,”
The man gripped the girl's shoulders, light yet firm and bent down just to meet her gaze.
“Some… things have been happening, I wanted to see if you were okay.” Flustered, the girl forced out a laugh, taking a hand off her shoulder she gripped it softly.
“I'm okay, you look more disheveled than me, big guy, what's up?” Kneading the flesh around his knuckles the man couldn't help but relax.
She smelled so good- of lilac and vanilla, it invaded his senses and corrupted his mind. He couldn't even remember the duplicate until it was shoved back by his consciousness.
Letting out a low moan he shook his head.
‘Focus Francis, god-’
“I have to talk to you,” he blurted out, face getting warmer as she paused her movement, and looked right at him.
Letting out a giggle she rested her arm, just so it leaned comfortably in the crook of his elbow.
“Okay? My rooms around the corner, if you wanna talk there?”
Not relying on his words he nodded his head, letting the girl lightly pull his arm to her apartment.
Now, he just had to figure out how to explain his bloody twin.
Should be easy!
And if she calls him crazy, and ultimately pushes him out of the apartment- possibly building, at least he got to get this close to her.
Smelling her, touching her, it was better than living alone with his thoughts- tormenting him every hour of the week that he lazily spent thinking about her anyway.
Inhaling her flowery scent once more he shuddered, he hoped the pretty girl would believe him, so he could once more bask in her presence and ignore every little thing around.
#francis mosses x reader#horror#thats not my neighbor#francis mosses#francis mosses x you#game x reader#horror game#x reader#fanfiction#romance#Mimic#Thank you Caseoh for showing me this game ILY
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just thinking abt corporate!reader & her goth!wife mikasa :3
female!reader, short fic, flirty coworkers, fluff, crack, wife!mikasa
wc: idk just read it damn
you were a diligent, serious worker but you’d never be caught working overtime in a place like that. you would never work longer than you had to, you don’t give a fuck about your job, or any company that much. the job wasn’t exactly exciting or difficult, but the salary was absolutely ridiculous for such simple tasks and you just can’t say goodbye to this lifestyle, really. it is easy, stable and comfortable and you really cannot ask for anything else.
you always kept to yourself and minded your own business but, unfortunately for you, the men you worked with were not familiar with such a concept.
when you started you job, your male coworkers found no problem or shame in flirting with you. and now, with the new, simple yet expensive golden wedding band on your finger…they still had no problem flirting with you.
you sit at your desk typing away, when all of a sudden, your coworker, sam, appeared out of nowhere like a bunny in a top hat.
“hey!” he spoke, far too loudly for the environment you were in.
“…hi.”
“how are you?” sam leans on your desk, shifting it in a way which will irk you for the rest of this painful interaction.
you look up at him, mouth streamline and eyes blank. “i’m fine, thank you,” you make a point of not asking how he is before raising your eyebrows and looking at your desk computer, “got work to do.”
“yeah,” he chuckles, biting his lip, “so listen…”
oh no.
“so i’ve been thinking…”
please, stop.
“i think we get along really well and i’m just wondering…”
god, help me.
“…if maybe we could go out sometime,” he finishes, smirking all of his ivory, hyper-perfect, white teeth at you. he stares at you, awaiting your answer.
you sigh. he sees so confident. it was sad.
you fiddle with your watch and begin your awkward rejection, “look i-”
a voice calling out your name is heard as you spin around in your squeaky desk chair and a few feet away, stands your wife, mikasa.
what is she doing here?
next to her is the receptionist, you smiles at you and nods to mikasa before walking away.
mikasa is dressed to the nines, as she always is.
she is decked out in an all-black outfit - her toned arms, decorated with lace sleeves, snug at the top and loosening out as the fabric goes on. a corset adorns her waist, peppered with lace accents and it emphasises the pale expanse of her upper breasts that are on display for everyone to see. her lower half is draped in a long, slightly billowed out skirt and platform boots cover her feet, making her almost tower over everyone.
mikasa walks over to you, unbothered by all the eyes on her. in her hand is a small container, one that you assume carries your lunch. she leans down and kisses you cheek, surely staining your skin with scarlet. you feel heat on your face. you’re pretty sure nobody is working at this point.
“hi ♡.” mikasa greets, a soft smile on her lips.
“hi-mikasa, what are-” you stand up swiftly, looking around your small work area, noticing how your colleagues are simply pretending to work, “what are you doing here? i said i’d meet you outside.”
“you were taking a while. the receptionist noticed and asked who i was waiting for. she let me come up here.”
“yeah, but-”
“but what?”
you huff and glance behind you.
sam, your flirty coworker who cannot take a hint, stands there like a buffoon, mouth agape and just watching you and mikasa interact. mikasa says a small “hello” to him and he responds with a dumb wave.
you roll your eyes. then you notice the food container in mikasa’s hands. she has a new set of nails too. “is that my lunch?”
“yes, that’s why i came here. you forgot it.”
you take it out of her hands, graceful. “thank you, baby…new nails too, i see?”
mikasa blushes, eyes knocking to the side. “mhm. i took your card for that.”
“mikasa!” you frown halfheartedly, “i was looking for that.”
“sorry. but you have seven other cards, so i think you will be okay.”
you hear a snort on your right, and a sharp glare from you shut them up.
mikasa beams at you.
you huff, beginning to walk “lets go to that café across the street.”
“okay!”
mikasa slips her hand into yours. on that very hand, a ring with an onyx diamond beautifies her finger. the ring that you placed there.
you coworker starts to call out, “aren’t you gonna introduce-”
“no!”
*
“you should be nicer to your coworkers.”
“why on earth would i do that?” you groan, disgusted by the suggestion.
the food mikasa made is delicious, and you shove your face with it in bad table manners. you were starving. mikasa doesn’t mind.
it was a sunny thursday afternoon and the streets were quiet, along with the café itself. mikasa nibbles on a small pastry and sips her tea.
“because, they’re your coworkers. and you need to keep your job.”
“ha! they need to keep me. i’m the best worker in that damn place.”
mikasa hums, taking a hold of your hands, causing you to drop you cutlery on the table ungracefully, “but then, who’d be able to pay for my nails?”
“…yeah, you’re right,” you smooth your thumb over her smooth knuckles, kissing the ring on her finger, “who would, huh?”
*
you walk back into your workplace, skip in your step. you whistle a tune all the way to your desk, stopping in your tracks when you realise everyone is silent and looking at you.
“…what?!”
the continuous chatter starts up again and everyone goes back to their tasks, not looking to bother or piss you off today
later on, when you walk through the door to your house and look in the mirror right beside it, you see a multitude of faded, red lip-shaped lipstick stained kissed all over your face.
a/n: i want her to be my wife so bad………
#mikasa x reader#mikasa x you#mikasa x y/n#mikasa fluff#mikasa ackerman x reader#mikasa ackerman x you#mikasa ackerman x y/n#mikasa ackerman fluff
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to boil a frog
pairing: seungcheol x reader
wordcount: 15.6k
summary: you & cheol go back, like way back. growing up together, you never felt anything more for him than a proximity based fondness, but things are a little different since you moved back to town.
genre/themes: tattoo artist!coups, childhood acquaintances to lovers. brother’s best friend (but it’s not so much a theme as it is just a statement of fact). S L O W B U R N. idk that this is even fluff but more like just romance? mention of alcohol, tattoos, needles...cat?
a/n: truly idk what this is and why. it’s so long & self indulgent, but i’m in my soft era i guess, hah!
“Hi, I’m here for my tattoo with Seungcheol?” you checked in with the unfairly stylish receptionist at the front desk of the tattoo and piercing studio. “I booked for 3pm.”
“Okay, yes, here you are!” they smiled up at you, “If you want to just take a seat, I’ll see how he’s doing with prepping the room.”
“Perfect!” you smiled before moving towards the waiting area.
Your foot bounced excitedly as you waited. In addition to being excited to get your first tattoo, you were doubly excited because you had history with Seungcheol. He’d been one of your brother’s closest friends growing up and despite not keeping in touch since they’d left for college, you’d really enjoyed following his artistic evolution on social media. You weren’t sure if he’d recognize you anymore, to be honest. It would be funnier if he didn’t.
“YN?” the receptionist returned, greeting you with a smile, “He’s ready if you’d like to follow me!”
“Sure!” you stood, “I love your dermals, by the way! The placement is so good,” you gushed as you followed them through a short hallway.
“Ah, thank you so much! They’re probably the piercing I worry about ripping out the most, but I do love them,” they chuckled before gesturing to an open door. “He’ll be right through here.”
“Awesome, thank you so much!” you grinned before stepping through.
“Hey,” Seungcheol greeted you after hearing your footsteps. His back was still turned to you as he finished wiping down his countertop. “YN, right? You know what’s funny, one of my friends has a sister who shares your exact name. Like last name and everything,” he chuckled before turning to greet you.
“Huh that’s weird,” you mirrored his laugh, trying to hide your curiosity as his eyes finally met yours. His eyes scanned your face for a few moments before he rolled his eyes and let out a loud laugh.
“Oh I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” he laughed, “What the hell are you doing here?” he leaned back in his chair, looking at you with slight disbelief.
“Mm, here to get a tattoo,” you deadpanned.
“Yeah no shit, but why are you home? I thought you were living that big city life now,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes at you again. You had always been a sarcastic scamp as a kid and it didn’t surprise him that this was still true.
“Oh did he not tell you?” you asked, referring to your brother. “I’m moving back. Well closer at least. I got a different job offer out here.”
“Oh no, I hadn’t heard,” Seungcheol shook his head, “To be honest, Jihun and I don’t talk all that much anymore. Not since he moved, at least.”
“Ah,” you nodded, “That makes sense. Time zones and whatnot.”
“But that’s cool! New job and I bet your parents will be glad you’ll be closer.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “They are verily psyched.”
“Well that’s dope! It’ll be good to have you around again,” Seungcheol laughed before shifting topics, “So this tattoo. Did you have something in mind? You’re my last appointment, so we can take some time drafting and working on things.”
“I was actually planning on just picking something from your available flash,” you confessed, “I’m a big fan of the latest set. But…,” you flashed him a cheesy grin, “If you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn down a custom design from you. And I expect a friends and family discount, of course.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Seungcheol laughed heartily. You were making the same face you used to make at him in high school when you were in a bind and needed help.
“Not much,” you laughed, eyeing some of the designs up on the walls. “Honestly, I’m down for whatever,” you shrugged.
“How about this? Pick out a few of the flash designs that you like and we can weave something together. I think that’d be fun.”
“Deal,” you grinned, accepting the binder of flash sheets from him. Pursing your lips, you flipped through it in its entirety before going back to the beginning to point out the ones that had caught your eye.
Seungcheol couldn’t help but approve of the way you reviewed the designs in full before pointing out your favorites. You seemed to gravitate towards botanical, insect, and occultish designs which made sense, given how many times you’d attempted to cast spells on him and Jihun as children. More than a few times at sleepovers, they had woken up to find that rocks, leaves, and twigs had been strategically placed around them while they’d been sleeping. He couldn’t help but chuckle fondly as he recalled a specific incident where you’d snuck up on him to pluck out one of his hairs. When pressed on the issue, you’d calmly explained that you needed it for a spell to make him go bald.
“Okay, those are all the ones I like best,” you nodded at him, waiting for feedback.
“Alright, let me work something up. You can chill in here,” Seungcheol took the binder back from you, flipping between the designs you’d marked with sticky tabs and moving to draft up something new.
“How long’s it gonna take?” you made a face at him, “Can I go look at the piercing portfolios instead?” you asked, not really appealed by the idea of just sitting and waiting.
“I mean sure,” he shrugged, “Ask Wren for them,” he pointed back towards the reception area, “I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”
“Yay!” you popped up excitedly, clapping your hands together as you walked back towards reception.
“Hey Wren, can I take a peek at the piercers’ portfolios? And also can I ask you where you get your hair done? I’m moving back here soon, but I haven’t lived here in a while and could use a stylist rec.”
“Oh of course!” Wren smiled brightly at you, “So do you know Cheol from when you lived here before?” they asked as they pulled out the piercing portfolios to hand to you.
“Yea, we grew up together,” you nodded, flipping the binders open, “I wouldn’t say we were friends? But he was close friends with my brother so he was at our house a lot.”
“That makes a lot more sense,” Wren nodded with understanding, “I was wondering why he was so chatty with you! Usually his room is way more quiet.”
“Oh yeah, we go way back. A lot of shenanigans,” you grinned as a few septums caught your eye.
“So where do you live now?” Wren inquired after giving you the Instagram handle of their current stylist.
“I’m actually in the process of moving back! I got a job in the next town over, but I was thinking I’d move back around here since there’s more to do? This is actually mostly an apartment hunting trip.”
“Oh my goodness, well let’s be friends when you move back! I’ve been trying to get Cheol to come out and do things more with me and my partner, but he’s kind of introverted so he doesn’t bite all that often.”
“I don’t know that I’ll be able to convince him either,” you laughed, “We’re not exactly close. But I would love to be friends! I don’t know too many people who live here anymore.”
“Okay, deal! Let’s exchange phone numbers then. It’ll be good to hang out with someone less grumpy than Seungcheol,” Wren teased, eyes dancing at the man in question as he entered the reception area.
“So grumpy!” you giggled playfully at his expression, “I’m going to leave you a bad review for poor bedside manner,” you couldn’t help but tease him.
“You’d be grumpy too if you had two imps bothering you!” Seungcheol protested with a pout, before beckoning you with his hand, “Now come on, I’m done with my draft.”
“Okay,” you shrugged, following him back to his room.
“What do you think? It might be a little bigger than you had planned, but we can scale down if needed.”
“No, I love it!” you sighed, eyes sparkling as you looked at the design. The final draft was a staghorn beetle with a third eye on its thorax surrounded by a wreath of botanical work that included some of your favorite plants and flowers.
“I had a hard time deciding between a moth or the beetle,” Seungcheol mused, “But you were always a little…unique, so I went with the beetle.”
“Thanks, I think,” you narrowed your eyes at him, unsure if he was sassing you. “I’m a huge fan of this. I think you chose great. Now as far as placement, I am thinking thigh? Left thigh?”
“Do you wanna go this big?” Seungcheol asked. The tattoo artist in him thrilled the idea of the placement, but he wanted to make sure you weren’t overcommitting.
“I mean, I’ll be honest, that wasn’t what I had planned. But don’t you feel like…it deserves it?” you pulled up the leg of your shorts in the mirror to try and envision the placement and it just felt right. “I think at least let’s pop the stencil on so we can see it. But my gut says yeah.”
“Okay,” Seungcheol nodded. That was a good idea.
“Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you nodded furiously at him after he had placed the stencil on. “She’s just gonna be a big bitch, I don’t know what to tell you, Seungcheol. It just feels right, right?”
“Yeah, I agree,” Seungcheol grinned at you, “We can do this in multiple sittings too, so don’t feel like it needs to all be done in one day.”
“I’ll let you know,” you smiled up at him, “Eee! I’m excited!”
“Alright skippy, let’s get you up on this table and we’ll get started,” Seungcheol patted the tattoo table. He made a few adjustments so that your thigh was positioned at a comfortable working height before getting started. “How’s that?” he asked above the buzzing of the tattoo gun.
“Not too bad, actually,” you were surprised to find out, “It’s just…buzzy?”
“Hah! I mean that’s good, okay I’ll keep going then,” he laughed, ducking his head back down to continue working.
The time passed surprisingly quickly. You and Seungcheol caught up on a variety of topics until you ran out of things to talk about. After that, he let you choose some music and you simply watched him work quietly. By your math, it had been around two years since you had last seen him and seven since you’d had an actual conversation with him. Somehow he looked both the same and different. He had always been sturdy, especially in the legs, but he seemed to have filled out more in the arms and shoulders in recent years. His face looked exactly the same, but his hair was now longer than you remembered it ever being in the past. It suited him.
“Doing okay?” he checked in as he worked on a section of shading. He had been going over the same area of skin for a while and was wondering how you were holding up.
“Yup,” you nodded. It was starting to get a bit sensitive, but you weren’t ready to tap out just yet. You focused on inhaling deeply through your nostrils and exhaling slowly through your mouth, which helped.
“Good girl,” he murmured approvingly as his left hand moved to grasp you at the knee, turning your inner thigh out to face him a bit more.
Your eyes flashed to him and your breathing pattern halted as you processed his words. With the soft praise, the somewhat breathy tone of his voice, and the pressure of his fingertips at your inner thigh, you found yourself shivering. Whether Seungcheol was aware of it or not, you found yourself deeply flustered by his praise and wildly confused at your reaction. Swallowing, you tried to gauge whether he even registered what he had just said, but he seemed to still be deeply absorbed in shading.
“Should we take a break?” he looked up suddenly, “You’re getting squirmy, it seems like.”
“I-, uh, yeah,” you did your best to act normal, “Yeah a break would be good, I think,” you managed to answer him.
“Okay,” Seungcheol stood up, “I could stand to stretch my legs anyways.”
“Sounds good,” you gave him a thumbs up as you raised your arms above your head to do some stretching yourself.
Seungcheol peeled off his gloves and turned to take a sip of water. His expression creased once his back was turned to you. Why the hell had he said that to you? It certainly hadn’t been on purpose, but as soon as it left his mouth, he’d wanted to wince. He could only hope that you hadn’t heard it or registered its weirdness.
“Do you need any water or a snack? We’ve been at it for a while,” he offered, pulling open a cabinet to reveal a handful of water bottles and a variety of snacks.
“I have water in my bag, if you don’t mind grabbing it for me? I would eat something though.”
“Should we order something? It’s getting to be around dinner time, I wouldn’t mind eating something proper,” he suggested as he handed you a granola bar.
“Oh yeah! Build in another break in a couple of hours, that sounds good. What’s good to eat around here nowadays?” you asked through a mouthful of granola.
“Tomato Pie is actually still open, if you feel like pizza,” Seungcheol chuckled as he scrolled through restaurants on his phone. “Otherwise it just depends on what you want?”
“I’m not feeling pizza. Let’s save TP for another time,” you shook your head, “What about sushi? Something light or fresh.”
“Oh sure! Um, how about this place?” he offered you his phone. You scanned the PDF menu before nodding.
“Yeah that looks good! I’ll do roll 37 in a combo.”
“Cool, I’ll have Wren order for us. They might want to eat too,” he nodded, stepping out of the room momentarily. Before too long, the sound of the tattoo gun was droning and you fell into an easy quiet with Seungcheol again.
“Please tell me more about Cheol as a kid,” Wren asked desperately as they swirled udon around their chopsticks.
“No,” Seungcheol grumbled.
“Of course!” you answered over him.
“Do y’all have a favorite memory together? Or a most distinct one?”
“Favorite?” your brows furrowed in concentration as you tried to think. “Like I said, he and I weren’t really friends? But, oh!” you clapped your hands together suddenly, “But this one stands out! It was the end of summer before Jihun and Seungcheol were leaving for college.”
“Please don’t tell this story,” Seungcheol buried his face into his hands, ears turning pink.
“Oh it’s cute though!” you argued, but you wouldn’t tell it without his consent. You waited a moment for him to lift his head again, eyebrows raising in a way that you knew to mean ‘go ahead’.
Eyes sparkling, you recalled the night before your brother and Seungcheol moved away for college. You had been nearly inconsolable as you and Jihun really had been close growing up and you simply couldn’t imagine finishing high school without them. He and Seungcheol had tried all manner of things to cheer you up, but nothing worked until they whipped out an emergency dance routine to your then-favorite boy band. They hadn’t really put all that much effort into learning it and mostly tripped over themselves, but it had done the trick and you’d laughed so hard that you cried. That was still an incredibly fond night for you.
“Oh and he was blonde then too! That was an era,” you wrinkled your nose as you finished telling the story.
“He can dance?” Wren looked at you incredulously.
“No, he can’t! But he tried, and that was what was important,” you chuckled heartily. “Honestly, Cheol was kind of just a good person. He was usually nice to me, but generally I just saw glimpses of him around.”
“You’re failing to mention all of the times that I bailed you out when Jihun was busy,” Seungcheol gave you a pointed glance.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you shook your head playfully at him. “He’s always been an old man like this.”
“He is responsible like that, isn’t he?” Wren nodded at you. “Our Studio Daddy.”
“Eugh yuck!” your skin crawled as you heard Wren refer to Seungcheol as Daddy. “No no no, don’t like that one bit!”
“You and me both,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes at both of you as he finished up his food. “You done? Let’s finish this bitch up. We’re getting close.”
“You good to lock up, boss?” Wren asked as they cleared their dishes.
“Yeah, you’re good! Just turn off the reception lights and lock the door when you leave. Don’t want any randos wandering in.”
“Sure!”
“So are you in charge?” you asked after Seungcheol had settled back into to finish up the last sections of shading on the beetle legs. Wren kept referring to him as ‘boss’, but you couldn’t tell if it was just good natured ribbing.
“Kind of. I hate being called boss, but I do own the studio now. The last owners were ready to retire and move, so they made me a good deal. I don’t feel like the owner yet, but I guess technically I am.”
“Wow, that’s…that’s really impressive, Seungcheol. I’m proud of you,” you smiled genuinely at him.
“This is weird, you’re never this serious,” he raised an eyebrow at you, a little uncomfortable to receive your genuine praise.
“I know, but I am serious!” you laughed, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve been following you for a while. I’m proud of how you’ve developed your art form and now you even own the studio! I think that’s super dope.”
“Thanks,” he grinned, ducking his head down to hide his blush under the guise of inspecting his work. It wasn’t too much longer before he was finished and applying tattoo dressing. “So for aftercare. Everyone has their own opinion, but I like Saniderm. Keep this one on for 24 hours and remove and wash. If you want, you can apply another sheet. Try to wear loose clothing as much as you can, but life is life. You can always call if you feel like it looks weird, but basically treat it like a wound cause it is.”
“Cool, sounds good!” you gave him a thumbs up. “What’s the damage, boss?”
“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes at you before working up a number that was on the low end of reasonable.
“That’s too low,” you decided, counting out bills until you reached a number that seemed more fair. “Dinner money’s in there too.”
“I-,” Seungcheol was slightly surprised. Not that he thought you’d be stingy, but because he was still accustomed to the you that begged rides off of him and never had gas money.
“I’ve had a big kid job for years now, don’t look so shocked,” you smiled at him, tucking your things back into your bag. “It was really good to see you, Coups. Maybe Wren and I can talk you into a night out sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he half smiled at the old nickname as he waved you out the door. His lips curled into a full smile after the door swung shut. It had been good to see you.
…
“Hey boss?” Wren popped into Seungcheol’s office, trying to seem casual.
“I told you don’t call me that,” he looked up from his sketching. “What is it?”
“Do you have any strong friends that could help move some furniture this weekend? They will be paid.”
“You’ve never paid me to move furniture for you,” he narrowed his eyes at Wren, “Also didn’t you just move like a couple months ago? Why are you moving again?”
“Not me, YN. They just texted me. I guess the moving company cancelled at the last minute, so she’s scrambling for options.”
“Oh, shit. That sucks,” Seungcheol crossed his arms, brow furrowing at the situation. “I mean I could probably scrounge up a few friends.”
“Huh, okay!” Wren fixed their boss with an odd glance before plopping into the empty chair across from him. “Did you and YN ever date? Or like…have a thing?”
“What? No,” Seungcheol made a face of slight distaste at his receptionist. “That has never even crossed my mind until now. And I find it unpleasant.”
“Ugh, boo! Friends to lovers is the best trope,” Wren frowned, “I should’ve known you’d be a party pooper about this too. Oh well, I’ll let YN know that she can count on at least one of you meatheads to show up. I’ll get the address and stuff from her too!”
“Sounds good,” Seungcheol nodded, making a quick note on a scrap piece of paper to see whether Mingyu would be free and to exchange phone numbers with you so you could contact him directly.
…
“Hey Cheol?”
“Huh?” Seungcheol looked up from his desk. He had been very much in the zone, so the interruption had him slightly befuddled. “Oh, YN? What are you doing here?”
“Do you mind if I chill in the lobby and charge my phone? I didn’t see Wren, they must be doing something else, but I didn’t want to just be like a loiterer without someone knowing,” you huffed.
“Yeah, I mean, but you didn’t answer my question. Are you okay?” he asked. You didn’t look completely upended, but you were a little frazzled.
“Oh, yeah I’m fine! I just got lost and my phone battery died so I couldn’t pull up a map,” you grumbled, shuffling back to the waiting area and setting your bag down. You rifled through briefly to pull out a charging cable. “I decided to bus and walk home after work, since I’m still trying to get the layout of the city, but I got super lost. I slightly recognized this neighborhood from when I drove in for the tattoo. So here I am!” you gestured as if to say ‘ta-da’.
“Ah, I see,” Cheol couldn’t help but laugh as he took a seat next to you in the lobby. “How is work going?”
“Pretty good! I’m picking up the quirks of the software that they use, but for the most part, the job is very similar to my old one and I’ll be good at it. I like my coworkers too, which is always good.”
“Good,” he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“How was your day? Busy?”
“It was okay,” he shrugged, “No tattoos today, I have Wednesdays set aside for bookkeeping, paperwork, and other businessy activities. Not my favorite, but gotta do it.”
“And how’s that?” you grinned at him, “If I remember right, you weren’t the most mathematically inclined.”
“You remember correctly,” Seungcheol grimaced.
“If you ever want help with the bookkeeping stuff, let me know. I can build a mean spreadsheet,” you offered. Despite not having been close with him in years, you felt invested in his success.
“Really?” he cocked his head at you, surprised.
“Of course! We were friendly before, right? We can be friends for real this time,” you scrunched your nose playfully at him. “Plus I definitely owe you for sending me Mingyu and Chan. Lifesavers, those two.”
“Yeah, they’re alright,” Seungcheol chuckled. “I might take you up on that spreadsheet thing, cause doing the math by hand is strange and unusual punishment.”
“Sounds good, just text me,” you nodded, eyes lighting up when your phone had charged enough to power itself back on.
“YN!” Wren called your name excitedly as they returned to the reception desk. “Sorry, I was taking inventory. What are you doing here?”
Seungcheol returned to his office as you gave Wren the rundown of your unfortunate turn of events. You wanted to be friends this time around, huh? That could be alright.
…
“I’m starting to regret this whole ‘friends’ thing,” Seungcheol groaned as you dragged him towards the bar. The rest of the studio staff was already there, but he had taken his time closing up, hoping that Wren would’ve run out of patience and just left without him. In the past, this strategy had been successful, but that was before you were part of the equation. You had a longer attention span and just when Seungcheol thought he’d gotten away with it, you’d popped up at his side, asking him if he was ready to go.
“No take backs,” you teased, only releasing the grip on his sleeve after you’d pulled him full inside the establishment. “Wren! We’re here!”
“Finally! Did he do his usual thing of taking way too long?”
“Yes, you were right,” you laughed, hopping onto an empty barstool.
Cheol narrowed his eyes at you. While he had grown to be able to handle Wren’s brand of shenanigans, he wasn’t sure how to feel about your powers combined. He watched you chat excitedly with Vernon about lizards or something before deciding that he needed a beer.
“Anyone else need drinks?” he asked, glancing across the table.
“If you’re buying, then yes!” Hoshi jumped up excitedly and appeared at Seungcheol’s side.
“YN, what do you want?” Wren tapped on your shoulder gently as they moved to order with Cheol.
“Oh, whiskey soda with a cherry?”
“What?!” Wren’s eyebrows pinched together, “Miss girl, this is a dive bar. Can you please
order something normal?”
“Hah! Well then just get me a beer or something,” you shrugged, eager to get back to discussing the Galapagos marine iguana’s algae based diet with Vernon.
“What the hell are they even talking about?” Wren did a double take before their boss tugged them towards the bar.
“It’s better that you probably don’t ask,” he chuckled as he hailed the bartender.
“Hey what can I get you?”
Wren rattled off the group’s order before looking back at you. “Shit, and some sort of beer,” their brow furrowed as they scanned through the options.
“You got cherries back there?” Seungcheol cut through Wren’s thinking.
“Yeah,” the bartender fixed him with a surprised look.
“Okay, then a whiskey soda with a splash of sour and a cherry. Nix that beer.”
“Weird, but sure,” the bartender laughed, moving to fill the order.
“I don’t think she asked for sour?” Wren asked Seungcheol.
“She always forgets to say it. She won’t like it without it,” he shrugged with a wry smile.
Wren watched their boss out of the corner of their eye. In the few weeks of knowing you, Wren had done a little bit of poking and was surprised that you and Seungcheol both independently maintained that nothing had ever happened or even threatened to happen between you two. In fact, you both had such a surprised reaction that made it seem like neither of you had even entertained the possibility. Yet, small things like this happened every so often and would surprise Wren anew that things were just platonic between you two.
“You got it all?” the bartender asked again, watching Cheol and Wren haphazardly gather up the six drinks between them.
“I think we’re good,” Wren finally nodded, leading the way back to the table. “Okay, so…,” they trailed off as they doled out the drinks around the table.
“Oh! I thought I was getting beer?” you were surprised when you received your drink.
“They had cherries,” was all Seungcheol offered up in explanation.
“Oh, well thanks!” you beamed at him before taking a sip.
“So what was the name of that documentary again?” Vernon asked, drawing your attention back, “I might just leave now to watch it,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled out his phone to make a note.
“Oh come on,” you chided him, “We just got here! I’ll give you the name of the documentary at the end of the night, as incentive,” you suggested.
“That’ll work,” he grumbled slightly, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning his attention back to the group’s conversation. Hoshi was regaling the group theatrically about something or the other.
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. He was surprised that you’d managed to convince Vernon to stay out. That was something that even he couldn’t pull off sometimes.
“So YN, are you liking your new job?” Hoshi asked after sharing his many personal thoughts and feelings about Tiger King.
“Yes!” you nodded, “I really like everyone at the practice! My trainer is super funny and nice and she said I’m basically ready to fly solo next week,” you grinned, a little nervous now that all eyes were on you.
“Remind me what you do again?” Joshua asked kindly. He was one of the piercers at the studio that you had probably spent the least amount of time with.
“I’m a vet tech! So, you know, helping with exams, running analyses, and giving vaccinations. That kind of thing.”
“Ah, so we have some things in common then,” Joshua quipped about the vaccinations.
“Hey if you’ve got a passion for stabbin’, might as well get paid for it,” you joked, prompting a chorus of laughs.
Eventually, the group broke off, some heading to the dance floor and others moving to play darts. You watched the game of darts until you were ready for a refill. As you waited for the bartender, you fished the cherry out from your melting ice cubes. It was the best part, after all.
“What’re you drinking there?” a voice to your right drew your attention.
“Hm,” you regarded the man with a suspicious glance, “I don’t think I'll tell you. You look like you’d tease me for it.”
“Oh? Well it’ll be tricky to buy you a drink, then,” he chuckled, a little taken aback by your response.
“I-,what?” you blurted out after processing his words.
“I’m Yejun,” he smiled at you, “Can I buy your next drink?”
“Hm, I suppose you can!” you chuckled. You observed his side profile as he flagged down the bartender. “So do you live here, Yejun?”
“I do,” he nodded, “Do you?”
“I do now,” you grinned, “I actually grew up around here and recently moved back for a job. Things are kind of the same, kind of different.”
“Oh really? How long has it been since you lived here? And what’s different?” he asked, smiling charmingly as he leaned against the bar, turning to face you fully.
Seungcheol watched intently as you chatted with this man. His brow furrowed slightly trying to gauge whether he needed to intervene. For a while, your expression was wary, but eventually you broke out into a teasing smile and he could tell that the attention was welcome. You were more than capable of holding your own, Cheol knew that, and so he returned to watching darts.
Wren was stumped as they watched Seungcheol watch you. For a moment he’d almost looked jealous, but that tension eventually dissipated and he returned to darts as if nothing had happened. When Wren looked at you again, you were happily chatting with a man at the bar, which was somehow even more confusing.
…
“Ah, I’m so glad you were free this weekend! You’ve been so wrapped up in Yejun that I feel like I barely see you anymore!” Wren tittered animatedly as they wrapped you up in a hug.
“Wren we hung out on Tuesday,” you laughed, shaking your head.
“Yes, and it’s been far too long between then and now. Speaking of, how are things going with Yejun? If he’s not treating you well, I will bring the boys to beat him up!” Wren threatened.
“There’s no need for that at all,” you shook your head vigorously, “Things are going good! I don’t know that I feel super…serious about him, but it’s been fun so far!”
“Hm. Well if you’d rather just date someone at the studio, I’d prefer that so I could see you all the time! I think Vernon is single, and you both love those damned lizards.”
“Hah! Iguanas,” you corrected them as you scanned down the list of cocktails. An aperol spritzer sounded good in the day’s warm weather. “No, I won’t date anyone at the studio. I don’t date friends, that’s a recipe for disaster.”
“You’re smarter than most,” Wren laughed. Couldn’t fault your logic.
“How are things with the boys? I feel like it’s been a bit since I’ve seen everyone. Anything interesting happen lately?”
“Oh, we might have a stray cat hanging around?” Wren clapped their hands together, “There’s a calico that showed up both yesterday and today.”
“Really? No collar or anything, I assume? Does it have a clipped ear? Is it friendly?”
“No, no, and yes,” Wren answered, “Should we do anything special for it?”
“Honestly, we should try and grab it so that we can take it to a vet to get it checked out. See if it’s microchipped. I can bring some stuff from the office and maybe let’s pick up some wet food after lunch? You can bring that to the studio.”
“Sounds good!” Wren nodded gamely. “Aside from that, nothing new at the studio. We’re a boring bunch these days.”
“You know honestly, that’s not a bad thing,” you smiled.
“We should go out for a happy hour sometime this week,” Wren suggested as your entrees arrived. “Maybe Thursday? You can bring Yejun!”
“Oh sure! Are we going to try and bring Seungcheol? Or not worth the fight?” you scrunched your nose up playfully.
“I mean, I always want the whole gang to be there. But might need your help again.”
“I can be on Coups duty,” you laughed, “It’s light work.”
“Alright, well if you’re in then I’m in,” Wren laughed. You did seem to have a way with Seungcheol that nobody else did.
The rest of lunch was filled with odds and ends of conversation before you and Wren walked to the supermarket to pick up a few cans of wet cat food. Wren headed back to the studio and you drove to the veterinary office to pick up some supplies. A humane trap, a cat carrier, and a kitty straightjacket accompanied you back to the tattoo studio.
“I’m here!” you announced as you brought the trap into the reception area.
“Um, what’s happening now?” Minghao, one of the other tattoo artists, looked on curiously as you fiddled with the gate of the humane trap.
“I told YN about our new friend! She’s going to help us trap it so we can take it to the vet.”
“Oh, I see,” Hao chuckled before returning to his room. Since you’d moved back home, you’d clearly established yourself as Wren’s new partner in crime. It was usually entertaining.
“Okay, I think I got it,” you nodded before grabbing a can of food and walking back outside to place the trap against the side of the building. You popped the can open and placed it at the back of the trap. “Now hopefully we catch the stray cat and not some other beastie,” you muttered to yourself as you walked back inside. Last time you’d set up a humane trap, you’d woken up to a livid raccoon instead of the stray you’d set out to capture.
“Hey Wren, can you order more of these supplies please?” Cheol dropped off a list at the receptionist desk, barely registering your presence. Between your help setting up his profit and loss statements and just general shenanigans with Wren, you’d become somewhat of a regular at the studio.
“Sir, yes sir!” Wren saluted playfully before waving you out the door. You had errands to run yet, but you let Wren know to call you if and when the stray showed back up.
…
“Oh my gosh, she is so so cute! I have named her Sausage Patty, we shall call her Patty and I love her very much,” you gushed over drinks. The studio had organized a staff outing again and Yejun had opted to join, so all of your people were in one place.
“You said this was a cat?” Yejun asked, “I thought your place didn’t allow pets?”
“It doesn’t,” you sighed, “But Cheol can keep her in until I can find a new place, right? It isn’t too terribly long before my lease is up,” you pleaded with him hopefully.
“Ah,” Yejun shifted uncomfortably, “I, um. We should talk later,” he ducked his head to whisper in your ear.
“Oh, okay?” you nodded at this ominous feeling request.
“So Yejun, tell us about yourself,” Wren prompted, eager to get to know the person you’d been dating. “YN has mentioned some things, but I’m nosy.”
Yejun chuckled good naturedly and shared his age, where he had lived before here, and that he worked as a financial advisor at the local bank.
“Oh interesting, do you enjoy that?” Joshua asked, eyes dancing.
Seungcheol fixed Joshua and Hoshi with a warning glance as Yejun answered Joshua’s query. He could tell that the boys did not find Yejun particularly interesting, but they didn’t have to in order to be nice. You were the one dating him, after all.
“It’s alright,” Yejun shrugged, not picking up on Shua’s teasing. “There are things that I like and things that I don’t, but that’s any job, isn’t it?”
“Sure is!” Hoshi chimed in mischievously, “For example, Seungcheol is the thing that I don’t like most about my job.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cheol laughed, “If this is where the conversation is going, then I’m going to grab a beer,” he announced. Joshua took the opportunity to join him at the bar.
“My god, our YN is dating a banker? Where did we go wrong, Cheol?” Joshua bemoaned jokingly as he leaned against the bar.
“Joshua,” Cheol warned him, the slightest edge audible in his voice. “Be nice.”
“He’s so dull,” Joshua pressed on, “She can do better.”
“That’s not our business,” Seungcheol shrugged as he accepted a fresh beer from the bartender. “If you can’t be nice, then I suggest you stay away. YN will take it personally if you tell her you don’t like him. Just leave it.”
“Fine,” Joshua ran his tongue over his teeth with displeasure, “A banker of all things. Please.”
“You remember when you dated that flight attendant, right? We all kept it to ourselves until things ended. YN is our friend now, so you can do her the same courtesy.”
“I wish you’d given me your honest feedback then. That was a major waste of my time,” Joshua bristled as he recalled that toxic relationship.
When they returned to the table they found that Hoshi had wandered off with Vernon to play darts and Wren was doing their best to hold the conversation with Yejun. There really wasn’t anything specifically wrong with Yejun, he just didn’t have much in common with any of them. Seungcheol briefly wondered what you two talked about, but it left his mind just as quickly.
“So what did you want to talk about earlier?” you asked Yejun hesitantly as he walked you to your door. There was a nip in the air and your cheeks were flushed pink as you looked up at him.
“Oh, yeah,” his expression filled with unease, “I guess I should let you know that I’m allergic to cats. It hadn’t really come up before, but it’s relevant now.”
“Oh,” your expression fell at this news. Somehow it was both a big deal and not a big deal. On the one hand, you were still in a very casual stage with Yejun and wouldn’t be able to live with Patty for a while even if you and Seungcheol did manage to work something out. But on the other hand, if this was a deal breaker, you wondered if you were just wasting your time. You loved animals and couldn’t envision a future without them. “Are you allergic to other animals too? Or just cats?”
“Mildly allergic to dogs, but my cat allergy is quite severe,” he answered apologetically.
“I see,” you nodded, “Well…I would say that since I’m still not sure I’ll be able to convince Seungcheol to keep Patty for me in the meantime and I’m at least five months out from being at the end of my lease, I’m not sure this needs to change anything between us? What do you think, though?”
“I agree,” Yejun smiled with a sense of relief.
“Great,” you grinned up at him. “Well, I’m home. Maybe we can do something next week?”
“That sounds great!” Yejun pulled you in for a quick peck before moving to drive himself home.
…
“Hello?” Seungcheol’s brows furrowed as he read the name on the incoming call. “YN? Are you okay?”
“Hey,” you sniffed, second guessing yourself. You briefly considered hanging up, but decided it would be helpful to have a sounding board. “Are you busy?”
“No, what’s up?” he shook his head, noting that you hadn’t answered his question.
“Can I swing by? I need some advice. Or maybe just to talk, I’m not sure,” you muttered, pressing your palm against your cheek.
“Yeah, of course,” Cheol nodded, “I’m home right now so come by whenever. Patty would like to see you too, I’m sure.”
“Okay, I’ll be over soon then,” you nodded forlornly before ending the call.
You second guessed yourself the entire way over. Maybe this wasn’t a big enough deal to bother Seungcheol about. Maybe you should’ve called Wren instead. But you knew that Wren would not be impartial and you knew, in your gut, that if it wasn’t a big enough deal to bother Cheol about, then you wouldn’t have called him. Before you knew it, you were parked in front of Seungcheol’s place and you weren’t about to drive right back home.
You walked up the steps and tried the doorknob. With all of the shared cat custody, he had gotten into the habit of leaving the front door unlocked when he knew you were on the way. Today was no different.
“I’m here,” you announced generally as you slipped off your shoes. Cheol appeared with a beer before you had gotten the second one off.
“You sounded like you needed a drink,” he smiled sympathetically at you.
“You know all about me nowadays, huh?” you laughed, taking the cold beverage from him.
“Little bit,” he grinned, “So what’s up?” he asked after you took a seat at his kitchen table. You gestured for him to sit down next to you before you answered.
“Yejun and I broke up…I guess? Is it even breaking up if you were just kind of dating?” you thought aloud. “Whatever you want to call it, we will no longer be a thing.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Seungcheol’s expression creased with worry. “Do you want to talk about what happened? Or what’s helpful?”
“I’m not too torn up about what happened,” you thought for a moment, trying to identify your feelings, “But I am sad. But I don’t feel like I should be sad because it wasn’t that serious? Also he was allergic to cats so was it gonna work out anyways?” you were surprised when you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. You had done such a good job of keeping it together all week, but now talking about it in such clarity really broke something free inside of you and suddenly you were crying.
Seungcheol froze. He had never seen you cry before and he was at a loss about what to do. He wanted to be supportive, but didn’t really know what that should look like for you. Did you want a hug? Did you hate hugs? It frustrated him deeply that he didn’t already know the answer.
“What would be helpful right now?” he found himself asking.
“It’s silly, but I could use a hug,” you sighed, almost rolling your eyes at yourself. You’d never really been one for physical affection, but the thought of being wrapped up in Cheol’s arms seemed comforting in a way that you needed desperately right now.
He moved immediately, standing over you with his arms outstretched. You stood up to fit yourself into him and his arms folded around you without thought. You were surprised at how natural it felt. You allowed yourself a few more sobs into his chest before letting yourself just feel warm and secure in his hold.
Seungcheol experienced the whole gamut of human emotion as he held you. Anger at Yejun for causing you to feel this way. Empathetic sadness. Relief when your crying stopped. And…pride at the feeling of being able to provide you comfort. It was very different and new to Seungcheol to see you in this emotionally vulnerable state, but not unpleasant by any measure.
“Okay, I feel better,” you chuckled sheepishly, pulling away from Cheol and wiping at your cheeks. “I should go home and get some sleep.”
“Okay,” he nodded at you, surprised at the instinct he felt to pull you back in.
“Thanks Cheol. Seriously.”
…
“I think I’m getting cold feet,” Seungcheol grimaced after seeing you mix up the bleach in a somewhat alarming way.
“No, no take backs!” you frowned, turning your foil-covered head towards him.
Several days ago, you had bought the largest containers of bleach powder and developer that they sold at the beauty supply store. You kept saying that you weren’t torn up over Yejun, but you figured why not allow yourself to partake in some of the traditional post-break up rituals? An entirely new haircut didn’t appeal to you, but adding some vivid color did seem fun. You weren’t totally sure how Seungcheol had caught wind of this undertaking, but when he’d thought out loud about going blonde again, Wren had been insistent. Whether it turned out looking good or his hair fell off, it didn’t matter too much to Wren. Both outcomes were equally pleasing.
“I-,” he grimaced, “If I end up having to buzz my head, you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Cheol, relax,” you tried to reassure him, “I have done this before. Now just sit still.”
Seungcheol sucked on his teeth before acquiescing and sitting down on the stool in front of you, allowing you to get started. You grinned happily as you ran your fingers through his hair, sectioning them off and applying the bleach to the foils. The way he enjoyed feeling your hands running through his hair was a little surprising to him, but soon he found himself just watching you and smiling at the way you smiled.
“Are you excited to be blonde again?” you asked around three quarters of the way through. “Was the last time in high school?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Cheol thought for a moment, “Didn’t you help me and Jihun that time too?”
“Probably? Like your guys’ senior year?”
“Yes,” he smiled, “That was a good look, if I do say so myself.”
“I agree,” you nodded as you grabbed a spare grocery bag to pop over his completely foiled head. “Okay, now we can let that process for 30 minutes. It should start to feel warm, mine kind of does already,” you touched your own foils gingerly.
“Okay, you wanna watch something while we wait?” he shrugged, flipping on the television.
“Sure,” you nodded, sitting down on the couch. You giggled happily when Patty hopped onto your lap and you scratched her under the chin.
“She loves you,” he chuckled, watching you interact with the cat.
“She loves you too!” you insisted, “Go see your dad,” you whispered at her playfully, which she ignored.
“No, she’s your cat and your cat alone. I’m just her landlord,” Seungcheol chuckled, unable to keep himself from thinking about the implication of ‘dad’.
“Okay, time to check!” you jumped up when the timer sounded. “Let me check mine first and then I’ll check yours,” you announced as you moved to the bathroom mirror.
“How’s it lookin’?” Cheol asked, leaning against the door jamb.
“I think a little longer, I’ll check again in fifteen. Now come here,” you beckoned him over. He moved to face you and spread his feet apart until you could see the top of his head. You peeled back a few foils and were surprised to see that it had lightened sufficiently. Lucky bastard. “I think you’re good to go, Seungcheol! You can rinse that bleach out and then I’ll tone you.”
“Word,” he nodded, helping you remove the rest of the foils and tuck them into garbage. You massaged your fingers through his hair, evaluating the rest of the strands before confirming he was ready to rinse. Without a word, he tugged his shirt up over his head before moving to grab the shower head.
“What are you doing?!” you almost shouted, alarmed by the shedding of clothes.
“I don’t want to get my shirt wet,” he shrugged, somehow pleased at the way you jumped.
“Let me get out of the bathroom first,” you grumbled, flushed in the cheeks as you made your way back into the living room.
“Okay, I’m done. You wanna check your foils again?” he emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel.
“Yes,” you nodded, trying to look anywhere but at him as he had not put the shirt back on.
After you had also rinsed the bleach out from your ends, you started mixing up toner and color. For a second time, you were applying and massaging solution into his hair.
“This feels nice,” Cheol remarked with his eyes closed, enjoying your touch.
“Does it?” your eyebrows raised, trying to stay composed. You didn’t need to look at his bare chest. You didn’t. “I guess that makes sense, like a scalp massage, right?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes slowly opening again to meet your gaze through the mirror. His lips had curled into a half smile and the way he looked at you made your heart stop for a moment.
“Okay, go pop another bag on your head and let that process for 20-ish minutes?” you glanced away, clearing your throat needlessly. As Seungcheol flopped onto the couch, you applied the tanzanite hair dye to your bleached ends, doing your best to avoid staining his bathroom permanently.
“Okay, my timer’s up!” Cheol announced as he burst into the bathroom again unceremoniously. Apparently you’d zoned out after applying the purple dye and you jumped at his intrusion. “Scoot,” he grabbed you at the waist and relocated you easily. He grabbed the showerhead and leaned over the tub, rinsing the silver toner out of his hair. You intended to leave, you wanted to leave, but when it came down to it you couldn’t do anything but stare at his broad back, mind frazzled at the way he had lifted you up so easily.
“Damn,” Seungcheol whistled appreciatively, regarding himself in the mirror, “This looks good!”
“You’re welcome,” you nodded surely at him, “And you doubted me.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry, you killed it,” Cheol grinned at you. Without thinking it through, he pulled you into his chest and gave you a squeeze.
“Cheol, dye!” you panicked, pushing him away. “See, now you’re purple,” you frowned, looking at the splotch of purple on his chest that had transferred from your hair. Without thought, you swiped at it with your fingers, hoping to wipe it off before it stained too badly. It took a few passes, but eventually you gathered it all and rinsed it down the sink drain.
“Thanks,” Seungcheol coughed, nerves alight at the friction of your fingertips woefully close to his nipple. A quick shudder ran through him before he could gather his thoughts and compose himself.
“Okay, now get out, I’m going to rinse out my color. Mine’s gonna be messy, so I’m just gonna take an actual shower,” you shooed him out insistently.
After you closed and locked the door for good measure, you let out a sigh. What had you been thinking, touching his bare chest like that? You must be out of your mind. Jumping into the shower, you let the water wash the dye from your hair and the thoughts from your mind.
Seungcheol ruminated while you showered. He had already acknowledged that something in him had shifted after you’d visited him last week. You had always just been Jihun’s sister and that hadn’t really changed much since you’d moved back. However, seeing you in that emotionally vulnerable state last week had started to chip away at the way he thought of you.
“Whew, okay, the ordeal is done!” you laughed as you emerged from the bathroom pointing at the towel wrapped around your head. “I picked a darker one, but I can’t promise that the purple is gonna wash out,” you chuckled sheepishly, skin pink and glowing from the shower.
“I’m not worried about that,” Cheol shrugged, “Now take a rest, stylist,” he teased, patting the couch cushion next to him. Patty chirped in protest at the noisy impact, but settled back into his lap eventually as you finished the show you had started earlier.
…
“Cheol, Cheol!” Wren beckoned Seungcheol as he was walking through the hallway towards the stockroom.
“What?”
“What do you think about starting a Tiktok account for the studio? People seem to really like them, it could help us drum up some business!”
“I don’t know…,” he rubbed his chin contemplatively, “Are you going to run it? I want no part of it, to be honest.”
“Yes, I will!” Wren nodded furiously, “This looks way more fun and I could definitely do it between my normal job responsibilities.”
“I-, okay. But people have to agree to be in your videos, okay? None of this sneaky filming business,” Seungcheol furrowed his brows at them before returning to his office.
To Seungcheol’s surprise, Wren really took initiative of the social media management and within a month or so, had amassed a significant number of followers. Wren was always on their phone anyways, and so kept on top of the latest trends and viral sounds. Seungcheol was also surprised at the ways in which the internet seemed to love their ragtag group. Folks found Joshua to be painfully handsome, Vernon and Hoshi to be side bustingly funny, and Wren to be endearing. You had even featured in a handful of videos when you’d happened to be at the studio and commenters the entire week afterwards playfully demanded ‘more YN content’.
“Cheol, have you reconsidered showing your face on Tiktok?” you asked after watching a ‘the art versus the artist’ tiktok.
“No,” he shook his head firmly.
“Aw man, this would’ve been a good video too!” you pouted, turning your phone to show Wren.
“Oh damn it, yeah it would be!” they shouted woefully.
“What is it?” Coups asked, feigning indifference.
“Okay, so the concept is showing art and then the artist that made it. Cheol you’re so talented, I feel like this is such a nice way to showcase your work!” you pleaded with him, though you were not particularly hopeful. When he didn’t reject you outright, you offered him your phone to show an example.
“Hm,” the corner of his lip pulled back as he contemplated. Your heart rose hopefully in your chest, was he genuinely considering this?
“YN can be in the video too! She’s a good example of healed work!” Wren clapped excitedly at the prospect. “We can start the video zoomed in on her thigh tattoo and then zoom out to show you!”
Seungcheol raised his eyebrows at you in an unspoken question. It seemed that he was in if you were too. Holding back an ecstatic squeal, you nodded, over the moon at finally getting Cheol to agree to be in a Tiktok.
The first section went smoothly. Wren positioned you in front of the studio window for flattering lighting and then zoomed in on your thigh. The second part where they would zoom out to a video of Seungcheol was not as seamless. First they wanted to try a solo shot, which didn’t pass muster. Then you tried posing next to Cheol, which Wren deemed ‘too stiff’. Finally, they took over full creative control and positioned Seungcheol behind you with his face above your shoulder. After a few more failed takes, he didn’t even register it when he leaned forward to mumble idle threats into your ear. Something about ‘never should have agreed to this’ and ‘I don’t know that we need a receptionist anyways’, which made you chuckle.
Wren stilled in the midst of filming. Their gaze moved from the screen and lifted over the phone to observe you directly. The sight of Seungcheol with his face tucked into your neck and making you laugh was so tender it made Wren want to scream at the both of you.
“You got it?” Seungcheol looked up suddenly.
“I mean…I got something,” Wren replied, bemused.
…
You were excited. Jihun was coming home for Thanksgiving! By your math, it had been well over a year since you’d last seen him, so your parents were going all out. They’d invited all of your friends, but Seungcheol had been the only one to take them up on the offer. It was going to be nostalgic, the five of you together, but holidays were all about nostalgia, right? You’d spent the day with your parents, helping them prepare the house and meals. Seungcheol had been assigned to pick up Jihun from the airport when his flight arrived that afternoon, so you were surprised when you heard a knock on the door a little after noon.
“Oh, who-?” your mom wondered as she opened the door, “Seungcheol, darling, you’re early!”
“I know, but I thought I’d come see if I could help with anything until then,” he shrugged, stepping into the threshold.
From the kitchen, you did a double take. Seungcheol was wearing an unbuttoned button down with a matching t-shirt underneath and accessorized with a medium weight chain necklace. He looked nice, which made you momentarily self conscious that you were still wearing chores clothes. You threw him a quick smile before returning to finish washing the sheet pans that were no longer needed.
“Can I help?” he offered.
“You wanna dry?” you suggested, pointing out a dry towel. He nodded and settled in next to you, drying off anything you handed to him. “What time does Jihun’s flight get in again?”
“Three, so I’ll probably leave around two. There’s probably airport traffic today.”
You nodded as you finished up the dishes and set the gloves aside to dry.
“Mom, what else can I help with?” Seungcheol had already wandered off in search of your mother.
You rolled your eyes. He had called your mom ‘Mom’ since you were kids. The first time had been an accident and you had replied ‘No, she’s my mom!’ quite indignantly. Your mom had chuckled and patted young Seungcheol on the head, reassuring him. At first he continued to call her ‘Mom’ mostly to irritate you, but over time, it sort of just became reality. Seungcheol was over at your house so much that he really did feel like family at times.
“You’re so thoughtful, Cheol,” your mom beamed up at him, “You can come help Dad and I wrap dumplings if you like.”
“Sure,” he nodded, hip checking you away from the kitchen sink so he could wash his hands. You huffed indignantly as you took your seat at the dumpling table as well.
“So Seungcheol,” your dad cleared his throat, “How are things at the shop?”
“Good! Not much has changed since you were last there,” he cocked his head thoughtfully.
“You’ve been to the studio?” you queried, confused at the idea of it.
“Yes, of course! We had to congratulate him once we heard he was taking it over. I’m not sure we’re tattoo people, still, but our Cheol is a business owner now!” your dad laughed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“It’s still a small town, YN,” Seungcheol chuckled, “Not much happens without everyone knowing about it.”
“That’s true,” your mom nodded. For example, she had heard through the grapevine that you often hung out with Seungcheol and his staff at Anne Kim’s bar. Apparently quite an edgy group of youngsters. The Kim’s had long ago given up running the establishment themselves, but it was a good source of passive income and town information.
“That’s so funny, I can’t imagine you there!” you giggled.
“They brought me a cake and everything,” Cheol chuckled, recalling that day fondly. It had taken some explaining to get everyone to understand that they were not, in fact, Seungcheol’s own parents and the cake had done a good job of quieting them all down.
“That’s so cute,” you gushed.
When you’d been younger, it had sometimes bothered you how easy it was for your mom to love your friends in what felt like the same way that she loved you. Now that you were older, you could appreciate her capacity to love in a different way.
“I should go get Jihun,” Seungcheol announced, placing one more lopsided dumpling onto the tray before standing up.
“Drive safe!”
“Will do,” Seungcheol smiled at your mother, disarmingly charming.
“What a good boy,” she preened happily as you finished wrapping up the dumpling filling. “Have you hung out with Seungcheol much since you’ve moved back?” she asked, even though she knew the answer already.
“Occasionally,” you shrugged, but as you did the math you realized that you’d probably seen him more than anyone else in recent days. “I’ve probably hung out with his receptionist, Wren, more though. They’re nice!”
“Oh, Wren! Yes, I remember from the studio. They’re just cute as a button, aren’t they?” your mom chirped. So you weren’t willing to admit that you were closer with Seungcheol than you’d ever been before. That was okay.
“Yes, they really wanted to come for Thanksgiving too, but they decided to go to their partner’s family’s instead.”
“Well, you know you don’t need an excuse to bring them around. Our house is always open. You too,” she gave you a pointed look. You grinned sheepishly. You knew they always wanted you to visit more.
“I’ll bring them around!” you nodded affirmatively.
“In fact, the rest of the shop can come too! They’ll keep us young,” your dad added suddenly. Your dad had always been quieter than your mom, but every so often he said something that left you absolutely slack jawed. This was one of those times.
“I’ll let them know,” you shook your head with a chuckle. “I’m going to go shower and change now.”
Your parents waved you off goodnaturedly and you retreated to your childhood bedroom. Everything you needed was in your duffel bag, but you couldn’t help from getting distracted by all of the stuff that your mom had kept exactly the same. Filled with nostalgia, your fingertips skimmed across the figurines, books, and other memorabilia. Your diary caught your eye and you pulled it out by the spine, curious to read some of your old thoughts. It was all cringey as hell, but it made you laugh as you thumbed through. As you reached the end, something fell out from the pages which surprised you. A polaroid of Seungcheol from the night you had told Wren about many months ago at this point. It was from the night before he and Jihun had left for college and the last time you remembered him being blonde prior to this most recent bleach job. You smiled softly as you peered at it in disbelief. Seungcheol looked the same, but different. His roots were a touch more grown out than they were right now and he was wearing that dog tag necklace that he had felt was so cool back then. What a handsome doofus.
“Woof, nostalgia is one hell of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath, surprised at your own reaction.
Shoving your thoughts aside, you jumped into the shower and focused on getting ready. The warm water soothed you infinitely and you hummed contentedly to yourself as you finished getting ready. You changed into a cute yet comfortable outfit and headed down the stairs to join your parents. You were in the middle of contemplating a cookie when the front door opened dramatically.
“I’m home!” Jihun announced excitedly as he entered the house. To your surprise, not one but two figures followed him inside.
“Jihun-a!” your mom cooed excitedly as she moved towards the door. “Oh who’s this?”
“Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend Hyejin!”
“Oh my goodness, what a surprise!” your mom tittered excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me so I could have prepared?”
“Mom, you’re always prepared anyways! I wanted to surprise you,” Jihun shook his head.
Your parents tsked appropriately at Jihun while ushering Hyejin inside. As they tittered over her, you threw a look at Seungcheol.
“Surprise!” he wiggled his hands weakly, which made you burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes before joining the family in the living room.
“Hyejin, this is my sister, YN,” Jihun gestured towards you as you entered.
“Hi,” you grinned excitedly at Hyejin. “I’m very excited to share with you all of Jihun’s most embarrassing stories!” you shook her hand with a little too much vigor for your brother’s tastes.
“I’m so excited to meet you all!” Hyejin smiled. She was so pretty!
“Genuinely, you’re so pretty, what the hell are you doing with Jihun?” you couldn’t help but ask mischievously.
“YN,” Seungcheol furrowed his brow, “Easy.”
“You’re right, I’ll let you settle in. I’ll ask later,” you whispered surreptitiously to her, drawing a small chuckle. Instead you joined Seungcheol as your parents lightly grilled Hyejin and Jihun about their relationship. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell any of us,” you mumbled at Cheol. “Did he share much on the drive with you?”
“No, not much,” he shook his head. “I was surprised too, I haven’t seen her on his socials or anything. Must be recent?”
“Hm,” you shrugged.
Seungcheol watched you as you looked on with interest. You looked really cute in your holiday cardigan. You could feel Seungcheol’s gaze on you. You kept your eyes facing forward, but you couldn’t help a light shiver before you decided it was time to rejoin the fray. Seungcheol looked on from the kitchen, allowing you this familial moment. Dinner passed quickly, everyone enjoying the opportunity to catch up with or get to know each other. You found that you were a big fan of Hyejin. She was funny, clever, and so easy to talk to. Seungcheol and Jihun caught up easily, like old times. Your parents looked on happily at their lovely little family.
“Okay, time for a movie!” your mom announced once everyone had finished eating.
“Movie?” Hyejin wondered and the rest of you stood.
“Family tradition, movie theater after an early dinner,” Cheol answered with a smile. “Are we playing for right to choose? Or perhaps because we have a guest…?” he gestured to Hyejin.
“Oh I think guest chooses,” you nodded supportively.
“Really?” Hyejin was surprised. “Okay, let me see what’s showing,” she laughed, pulling out her phone.
“Ooh I'm excited, good choice again Hyejin!” you bounced on the balls of your feet as you waited in line for concessions.
“Behave,” Seungcheol grabbed you by the shoulders, pinning you in place.
A jolt of heat darted through your chest at his grip. You suddenly flashed back to the day of your tattoo. This was a very similar feeling to when Seungcheol had grasped your upper thigh and murmured ‘good girl’ to you, effectively knocking the wind from your lungs. You stilled, unable to face him.
“Good girl,” he went on to commend you thoughtlessly as he perused snack options.
You blinked. A sharp exhale left your lungs as you struggled with the effect this was having on you. You wanted to punch Seungcheol, how could he be so careless with his words!
“Popcorn,” you answered the teenager when you got to the front of the line.
“What size?”
“Large,” you answered. You had saved room.
“Should we just share a bucket?” Cheol suggested.
“No! Get your own popcorn,” you scrunched your face at him. The possibility of accidentally brushing hands with him was too much to consider right now.
“Okay, damn,” he chuckled bemusedly as he went to order his own popcorn.
You knew you were acting odd, but you couldn’t help yourself. In an effort to distance yourself from Seungcheol, you wandered towards Jihun and Hyejin, eavesdropping on their conversation. They were discussing something boring so you wandered towards your parents instead.
“YN-ah,” they beckoned you towards them. “How are things since moving back? I know it was always a little small for you here,” your mom asked genuinely.
“You know,” you thought for a moment, wanting to answer honestly, “I was worried I wouldn’t be happy moving back…but I’ve made some good friends and I’m actually pretty happy!”
“That’s great,” your dad smiled at you.
Your mom studied your expression closely, but you didn’t give much away. She was curious whether your contentment was tied to Seungcheol as much as she hoped it would be. Your parents had always been big fans of Cheol throughout childhood. Part of it was proximity, of course, as Seungcheol had been at the house almost constantly throughout middle and high school. But the other part of it was that they saw the ways in which Seungcheol complimented both you and Jihun. Seungcheol had always had a calm energy and presence that didn’t hinder you from being yourself, but also tempered your personality when occasionally necessary.
“Movie time!” your parents announced, ushering everyone towards theater six. As everyone paired off, you found yourself sitting next to Seungcheol.
“We should’ve just shared a popcorn, we paid basically double to have the same amount in separate bags,” he pouted at you.
“I want to have my own bag, leave me alone!” you whisper shouted at him, scrunching your face at him in the dark.
Hyejin giggled as she watched you and Seungcheol with fascination. Jihun had mentioned that you all had been childhood friends, but not that you two were dating. She wondered how long it’d been since you and Seungcheol had gotten together and whether Jihun even knew. She’d have to ask after the movie was over.
“That was good,” you nodded surely as everyone piled into the car. “I was especially a fan of the scenes where the fruit and vegetable carts were upturned. Love me a good ‘my cabbages’ moment!”
“Me too!” Hyejin giggled
The ride back was filled with excited discussion, laughter, and some good natured teasing. Your parents helped themselves to a slice of apple pie and let you all know you were welcome to the leftovers if you got peckish before they retired to bed. Eventually Jihun and Seungcheol wandered off to look at something in the basement, which allowed you to visit with Hyejin more.
“So how long have you and Seungcheol been dating?” she asked.
“W-what?” you sputtered. “Me and Cheol? No, we’re not!”
“Oh, I’m sorry! Are you really not?” she flushed, “You two seem so close!”
“No, no, don’t be sorry!” you leaned towards her, not wanting her to feel embarrassed, “We are close! But we’ve known each other for years,” you tried to explain.
“That really surprises me. You two seem very much in step with each other,” she mused. She had literally watched him eat the chestnuts that you’d pulled out of your stuffing and set on a side plate.
“I-, I mean I guess we are closer than before these days. I moved back to town a few months ago and Seungcheol is probably one of my closest friends right now,” you thought out loud. You weren’t sure whether it was just the longevity of the relationship, but there was a deep comfort that you had with Seungcheol that just couldn’t be beat.
“Ah, I see,” Hyejin nodded, tipping the rest of her wine back.
“Do you want another drink? Or maybe we can go bother the boys?”
“Why not both?” she laughed, so you led the way.
“Oy, degenerates! What are you doing down here? Smoking weed?” you teased as you bounced down the stairs.
“I mean we could be,” Jihun’s voice called back.
“Holding out on us,” you rolled your eyes playfully at Hyejin as you rounded the corner.
“Hey,” Hyejin grinned, looping an arm around Jihun’s waist and squeezing affectionately.
“Yo,” you punched Seungcheol awkwardly in the shoulder before flopping onto the futon next to him. “It’s been a damn minute since we were all down here, huh!”
“Yes it has,” Cheol’s eyebrows raised dramatically as he considered the length of time. “Probably haven’t been back since before college started.”
Jihun nodded in agreement and they both took turns sharing fun stories with Hyejin until your eyes started drifting shut. These beers really took a toll on you these days.
“Hey, YN,” Seungcheol’s voice and shoulder nudged you awake.
“Hm?” you murmured.
“You should go to bed,” he suggested.
“No, I’m fine! I’m just resting my eyes,” you protested, struggling to keep the aforementioned eyes open.
“Oh not this again,” Seungcheol shook his head. He had fallen for the ‘resting my eyes’ line a grand total of twice before he’d learned his lesson. That just meant you had already dozed off and were going to fall asleep again shortly. “YN, if you don’t go to bed now, I’m going to carry you up.”
“Do it, you won’t,” you goaded him sleepily. You managed half a yawn before he had hucked you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs.
Jihun had been scrolling through his phone, and so looked up with slight confusion to see Hyejin grinning knowingly.
Seungcheol dumped you onto your bed as gently as he could manage, but you still landed with a loud ‘oof’. He scoffed as you curled into your pillows and comforter like a caterpillar into a cocoon. Why couldn’t you just admit you were tired like a normal person?
…
A few weeks after Thanksgiving, you were at Seungcheol’s again spending quality time with Patty when Jihun Facetimed him unexpectedly. Patty was sitting on your chest on the couch when Seungcheol picked up.
“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Not much, I was just calling to check in. Thanksgiving made me realize that I’ve done a shit job of keeping up with you so I want to change that!”
“Oh, for sure,” Cheol laughed, a little surprised. “Oh, YN is here too!” he directed the phone to you and Patty. You waved from underneath her.
“Oh, YN is there?” you heard Hyejin’s voice in the background. “That reminds me, I’m gonna to text her!”
[hyejin]: ‘hey, I saw an ad for this yesterday and it made me think of you!’
You squealed in excitement at the attached screenshot she sent of a frog stun gun. It even had a little butt on the back! Patty jumped off of your chest in protest of your loud noise, but your excitement was difficult to contain.
[yn]: ‘OMFG. THNEED’
[hyejin]: ‘right?!? when they do their next shop update, i’m ordering for both of us!’
“Coups, look!” you hopped off of the couch excitedly to show Seungcheol, completely derailing his conversation with Jihun. “It’s a frog. And a self defense stun gun. And it has a butt!” you flipped through the pictures excitedly. Seungcheol nodded good naturedly at you before returning to his discussion with Jihun.
“I didn’t know you had a cat,” your brother's voice floated across the room. Seungcheol explained the situation, to which Hyejin sent you a slew of texts rapidly.
[hyejin]: ‘are you sure you’re not dating seungcheol?!?’
[hyejin]: ‘you can tell me if you are. i wont tell jihun!’
[hyejin]: ‘im cool!’
[yn]: ‘im not!’
You furrowed your brows slightly. You and Hyejin had kept in touch since Thanksgiving and she had taken to fussing over you like an older sister. For the most part you loved it, but this probing about Cheol made you feel…confused. It wasn’t the first time that people had mistaken you as a couple and you almost understood why. No, the thing that was difficult to contend with was the fact that you…didn’t hate it?
[hyejin]: ‘okay 👀 im just sayin not many people would let a cat live at their house just for a friend’
[hyejin]: ‘but maybe im wrong!’
You sat up and watched Seungcheol over the back of the sofa as he chatted with Jihun. You didn’t bother to process what they were saying, but you watched the way the corner of his lips lifted into a half side, revealing one of his dimples. You’d seen his dimples a million and one times before, but this time it felt like your heart shot up into your throat, clogging it. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you tried to clear it either, that bitch was stuck. Seungcheol threw you a ‘you good?’ glance before returning his attention to your brother. There was nothing remarkable about it. There was no reason it should make you nervous. And yet, the slight pinch between his brows and the clear concern in his eyes made you squirm.
“I gotta go!” you announced to Seungcheol and Jihun, waving casually at them before pulling on your shoes. Patty gave you a departing headbutt and you were out the door.
“I thought she didn’t have plans today,” Seungcheol’s expression was clearly confused after you left.
While you drove home with all of the windows rolled down in an effort to regain composure, Seungcheol tied up his conversation with Jihun. The house felt quite empty now that he wasn’t on a call and you were also gone. It was a surprising thought for him to have, since he’d long ago gotten accustomed to being alone and in fact quite liked it. But he’d be an idiot to ignore the fact that his life had changed dimensionally since you’d come back into it.
You’d coaxed him into a closer friendship with his staff members, gifted him the furry little gremlin that he now looked forward to coming home to, and you yourself had become someone that he thought of often and cared for deeply. He’d been unsure whether it was the same kind of proximity based fondness that you had shared before, but upon further consideration, he concluded that this was not the case. These days he didn’t just tolerate you. He sought you out. He wanted to fill his time with you. He wondered if you felt the same.
…
[wren]: ‘come on, please?!’
[yn]: ‘i’m tired 😩’
You frowned at your phone. You weren’t actually so tired that you didn’t want to go out, but you felt a sort of reluctance to go because you’d been avoiding seeing Seungcheol. It had taken some time to sort through your feelings, but you’d finally accepted that you were struggling with an attraction to him that you needed to get over. You were sure you could, you just needed time.
Seungcheol ran his hands through his hair as he finished up his profit and loss statements for the month. It had been a good month. In fact, an extraordinarily good month, which also meant that there were many more transactions to account for. In the past, he probably would’ve rather walked off of a bridge than do his P&Ls, but the spreadsheets that you’d help build for him were a genuine lifesaver. You’d even helped with figuring out how to automate data downloads from the PoS system which saved him and Wren a huge amount of headache. He really needed to treat you to dinner or something as a thank you.
[seungcheol]: ‘when are you free?’
You stared at your phone. What the hell was in the water today? Your heart had jumped when you’d seen Seungcheol’s text. You were of two minds: one wanted to read and respond to it immediately while the other wanted to throw the phone into a garbage chute. As usual, you let both sides percolate before reaching a happy compromise. You read the text but didn’t respond until later.
[yn]: ‘kind of depends. what for?’
[seungcheol]: ‘i want to take you out.’
[seungcheol]: ‘as a thank you for the p&l spreadsheets’
Your hopes rose and fell just as quickly as you read the texts in sequence. It was a professional matter.
[yn]: ‘that’s not necessary! friends help each other’
His brow scrunched upon reading the word ‘friend’. It sent such a pang through his chest that he wasn’t expecting, but he felt persistent today.
[seungcheol]: ‘i dont see why that should stop me from showing you that i appreciate you. let me know when you’re free for dinner’
Your heart flip flopped in your chest. How could you get through a dinner with him when just a text affected you like this? And yet you had no valid reason to say no.
…
You tapped your toe nervously as you waited for Seungcheol. You had decided on Friday after work and he had insisted on driving you, because he had wanted to keep the restaurant a surprise. So here you were, 6:12 pm on Friday and incredibly, unreasonably nervous about dinner. You wondered if you could still cancel.
[seungcheol]: ‘here’
“So much for that,” you muttered to yourself before stepping out of your apartment. The only indication of dress code that Cheol had given you was ‘don’t look like a hobo’, so you’d chosen a simple black dress with a colorful and fun cardigan. There was a slight chill in the air, so you pulled the cardigan a little tighter around yourself as you climbed into his car.
“Hey,” he broke into a smile as soon as he saw you. “You look nice.”
“Thanks,” you replied as you buckled your seatbelt. You gave him a quick once over as he backed out of the parking space. He was dressed in all black and the visual focal point was a half-pearl, half-chain choker necklace that really stood out. “Oh I like that!”
“I thought you might,” he grinned at you as he leaned back, settling into his seat after getting onto the highway. “It seems your kind of style,” he explained when your brows furrowed.
“Ah,” you nodded, not quite sure what to say. “So where are we eating, will you tell me now?”
“Yes. We’re going to Kyōten, in the city.”
“What?!” you glanced at him, slightly alarmed, “That’s kind of a haul!”
“It’s not too bad. Plus our reservation is at 7:30. I budgeted enough time.”
“Still, you don’t have to drive that far! We could’ve eaten somewhere in town,” you grumbled.
“I’ve been wanting to try this place too. Not everything’s about you, baby,” he teased. This was true in part. Seungcheol was interested in the omakase menu at this restaurant, but he likely wouldn’t have gone by himself. “How’s work been, by the way? I feel like I haven’t seen you around much lately.”
You flushed at the moniker ‘baby’ before pushing through it to answer him. It was true, you’d been working a handful of extra shifts at work here and there in preparation for the holiday season. But you’d also been making yourself scarce because you still couldn’t control the physical reaction that you sometimes had to Seungcheol. You omitted that part in your answer, but did share a handful of funny stories that had happened at work lately. Seungcheol, in turn, updated you on some of the interesting happenings at the studio as of late. Hoshi had finally been able to do the largest tiger flash that he had available, which had been incredibly exciting to him. Joshua had attended the annual APP conference and made a lot of good contacts. The studio was working out details on a guest piercer spot in the near future. Before you knew it, you had pulled into the parking ramp near the restaurant.
“Oh it’s windy!” you remarked as you stepped out of the car.
“Here,” Seungcheol pulled a spare puffer jacket out of his backseat and handed it to you. You’d wrapped it around yourself gratefully as you completed the short walk to Kyōten.
“We have a reservation for 7:30. Seungcheol,” he informed the hostess. She nodded kindly and led you through the dark space towards the sushi bar. You remarked at the beautiful architecture and decor as you hopped onto the bar stool. “I’ll just stand, if that’s okay?” he asked the hostess, tucking his stool slightly to his left under the bar.
“Have you all done this before?” you asked the people sitting next to you as you waited.
“No, we haven’t!” they shook their heads, “Have you?”
“Oh thank god! No, I definitely haven’t. You haven’t either, right?” you asked Seungcheol, realizing you didn’t know.
“No,” he shook his head.
“Don’t be nervous! Just eat what they give you,” the couple on the other side of the bar from you smiled kindly. “The chefs here are great, they’re very interactive and fun. Just have a good time.”
Reassured now that the ice was broken, the six of you chatted before the chef came. The pair next to you shared that they were celebrating their second anniversary. They had also driven in and were staying for a long weekend in the city.
“That’s so fun, I love that! We’re just here for the night,” you smiled at them, the sake warming you from the inside out.
“What about you two? Is this a special occasion?”
“Sort of,” Seungcheol answered, draping his arm across the back of your stool as he did so. “It’s a thank you dinner for YN. She’s been a huge help with my business this year, so I thought I ought to show her my appreciation properly.”
“What do you do?” Miseon asked curiously.
“I run a tattoo and piercing studio,” he answered.
As he explained in more detail, you felt like your back was itching, the way you were hyper aware of his arm draped behind you. Seungcheol had gotten closer and closer to you as he’d engaged in the conversation with Miseon and Nuri. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to physical closeness with him, but the interior of this restaurant was so intimately lit that it tricked you into overthinking the whole situation. Even after the chef arrived and dinner commenced, he didn’t distance himself from you at all.
“Would you like to join us for a few drinks? We’re having such fun with you!” Nuri asked once you were all back on the sidewalk.
Seungcheol looked to you, indicating that he was game. The way you smiled back at him, flushed in the apples of your cheeks, made his breath hitch.
“Sure!” you nodded excitedly. You’d also really enjoyed Nuri and Miseon and were happy to keep the night going.
The four of you did some quick googling before settling on a bar a few blocks away. At the second crosswalk, you’d been a little too engaged in the conversation and nearly stepped into oncoming traffic. Without thought, Seungcheol had hooked his arm around your waist to pull you back and simply left it there. Your eyes flew to him at this touch. He was looking straight ahead and you were surprised when the idea of planting a kiss along his jaw popped into your mind. You flushed and shook your head when his head turned to look at you again.
The bar was cute and the next hours passed quickly as you chatted with Nuri and Miseon and enjoyed the ambiance and music. A few times you had looked up to see Seungcheol’s dark eyes trained on you from across the bar and you’d flushed each time. Before too long you were saying your goodbyes and driving back home. The car was quiet as you and Seugcheol both reflected on the night.
Even though he had framed it up as a ‘thank you’ dinner, you felt like that label didn’t quite fit. You might have been overthinking it, but Kyōten had been so intimate and the way that Seungcheol’s touches seemed to linger felt different than your usual closeness. You’d also been mistaken as a couple a few times and neither of you had bothered to correct them, which you usually did. Perhaps it was the context of being in a city you didn’t live in, but it just didn’t seem important this time.
Seungcheol tapped his fingers against the gearshift as he drove. He’d known Kyōten might be a little more romantic than your typical dinner with a friend, but he’d chosen it because he’d overheard you share with Wren that you were really interested in trying omakase style dining. It hadn’t been totally conscious on his part, but he’d found himself finding ways to be closer to you throughout the evening and he’d been surprised at how you’d responded. You hadn’t shied away from his touch and he’d seen you blush a few times throughout the night in ways that made him wonder if his attraction towards you wasn't completely one sided.
“Did you have fun?” he asked, glancing towards you as he drove down the dark roads.
“Yes,” you beamed at him, “Although you spent entirely too much money, Cheol.”
“Hey!” he cut you off with a stern look, “I told you, this is a show of my appreciation. Let me just appreciate you.”
“Hm,” you pursed your lips at him, trying and failing to not imagine those words in a different context.
Seungcheol pressed his tongue against his cheek. He’d always enjoyed the way you reacted when he teased you.
“Thanks for driving,” you threw him a smile before reaching for the door handle. You were eager to get out of this car, which felt entirely too hot right now.
“I’ll walk you,” he announced, leaving the car as well and stepping to your side.
“Oh?” you were surprised. This was not typical.
“I really enjoyed tonight,” he commented as you stepped onto the front stoop of your apartment building.
“Me too!” you beamed, eyes creasing softly at him.
“I want to tell you something,” he cleared his throat and your heart stopped.
“O-kay,” you nodded a moment later when you were actually able to retrieve your voice.
“I-, uh,” he cleared his throat again when he tried to speak. “You are very important to me, so I want you to know that nothing has to change between us after I say what I say.”
You blinked at him, heart racing so fast that you were worried you wouldn’t be able to hear him over its beating.
“My life has changed a lot since you moved back. I am closer to my friends, the shop is doing really well, and I have a cat that I guess I love now. And that’s mostly because of you, so thank you for that. But also, I, uh, my feelings about you have changed. I think about you often and my house honestly just feels empty when you’re not there. So I like you,” he felt like he was shouting now, so he tried to reign it in, “I like you and you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know.”
Your brain had screeched to a halt and you were frozen throughout most of his confession. The cogs started turning again as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead and let you know he’d text you tomorrow. He was back in his car when you’d gathered yourself enough to run after him.
“Hey!” you practically jumped out in front of his car as he tried to leave the parking spot.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” he shouted, jumping out of the car after slamming on the brakes and putting it back in park.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” You couldn’t explain why, but you were fuming. “You need to be less careless with your words!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Seungcheol threw his hands up, completely caught off guard by the fact that you were…yelling at him?
“You can’t just call me ‘good girl’ while you’re tattooing my inner thigh or tell me you like me and then leave? What about me and my sanity?”
“What?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows raised into his hairline as he processed what you had said. Surely you didn’t mean…?
He was taking too long to understand so you walked towards him, grabbed him by that damned pearl chain necklace, and pulled him into a kiss. He was surprised for just a moment before he was kissing you back intently.
“Were you doing it on purpose?” you asked between kisses.
“What?” he asked, not totally grasping what you were asking.
“Was it on purpose?” you reiterated, fingers teasing at the hairs on the back of his neck. “Your little touches, grabbing my waist? You were driving me crazy,” you exhaled sharply.
Seungcheol paused at this confession, drawing back to look at you fully. His eyes raked over you and you grew hot under his gaze.
“It wasn’t, but I guess I couldn’t help myself,” he chuckled, lips curling into a half smile.
“Turn your car off,” you demanded and Seungcheol was more than happy to comply.
#scoups fic#seungcheol fic#scoups fluff#seungcheol fluff#svt fic#svt fluff#scoups fanfic#seungcheol fanfic#svt fanfic#svt imagines#seungkwansphd:writes#kpop fanfic
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Mechanised Devotion (Part 1) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~
~ Please be nice to me, this is my first time writing fanfiction in a while and honestly have just been experiencing the phenomena that is Matthew Lillard as William Afton. Also, first time posting on tumblr! Also thinking of making this a multi-part series, so feedback is really appreciated!~
CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships.
When it had been suggested by your previous manager that you should see a career counsellor, you had thought it was a funny joke. You had laughed at the idea of something such as going to see another human being who's job was solely to tell you what jobs you were good and qualified for.
Until the paperwork had been handed over in an unsealed manila envelope letting you know that you had been terminated.
Unemployment had hit you like a truck, but without the pay-out that might have come from the trucking company. Filing paperwork to try and get even a few dollars a week to survive and contribute towards your house-share whilst already struggling to try and push through college had fallen by the wayside and you had been hitting the pavement both physically and online to try and find your next job.
That perfect one that was sure to turn up the next day, or maybe the next week.
But as somewhat expected, that moment had never arrived and neither did that job. So it was with great reluctance that you found yourself in a drab beige building with the occasional sound of human misery making the area feel like anybody was left alive in the room despite the faint clicking of the keyboard from the receptionist.
'Would it have killed them to put a small plant or something in the room?' You found yourself thinking as you looked around, almost missing the gesture from the receptionist lady who scowled over her glasses at you and handed you a slip of paper.
"Your councillor will see you down the hall, third door on the left."
"Thanks ma'am." your voice was quiet, and the woman scoffed before shooing you away with her somewhat ridiculously long nails. You wondered how she managed to do anything with them, but your thoughts quickly turned to the office you were supposed to find as you set off quickly down the hall.
The walls were beige, the floors were beige and you were minorly impressed that they had found somewhat beige doors as you moved down the hall cautiously. But the door you needed seemed almost comically like an old episode of Scooby-Doo where it was easy to tell what object was going to be interacted with due to the significantly different colours and quality of drawing. For some reason, the one door you needed was a nice deep wooden colour, although you seriously doubted it was real wood in a place like this. It took you a moment to breathe deeply, steeling your nerves and running your hand through your hair to tidy it up a bit, hand smoothing down your skirt before reaching up and knocking.
There was sound of shuffling from inside before a smooth, warm voice that came from inside though slightly muffled. "Come on in!"
Entering slowly, you blinked as you spotted a man sat at the desk infront of you, his hair peppered with greys despite being a cool brown colour and his slightly gaunt face adorned with greying stubble. Glasses perched on the end of his nose, which he looked over the rim of to see you before reaching up and pushing them back onto his face with his index finger, standing up with a warm, lopsided smile. What surprised you next was how tall he was. The guy was easily over six feet tall, and you felt dwarfed by his sheer size, broad shoulders accentuated by a neat by rumpled beige plaid shirt and a neatly knotted tie.
"You're my new client right? Come on in! Sit, sit!" he gestured to the cracked plastic chair opposite the desk with a large hand before extending it to shake your own, hand engulfing yours and allowing you to feel how rough and calloused they were compared to your own.
'How does an office worker get such rough hands?' you wondered as you took a seat, hands automatically tucking your skirt underneath you as you sat in the hard plastic chair. Blushing as you felt the man's grey eyes wandering over your appearance with something akin to disinterested amusement before he opened a folder and made a humming noise as he scanned it.
It allowed you to look around his office, noticing several framed diplomas on the walls, surprised by the amount of colour in the room with the warm wooden bookcase and even the occasional muted purplish-blue folder dotted amongst the shelves. You noted his room smelt like coffee, both freshly brewed and stale grounds somehow, a faint smell of smoke and cologne. Sniffing quietly, you wondered if perhaps the person who had sat there before you had been a smoker and worn some cologne to try and impress. But you supposed that you had gotten dressed up yourself despite your scuffed up converse ruining the somewhat ill-fitting blouse and skirt giving some illusion of professionalism.
"So, what are we going to do with you?" His voice made you jump as you suddenly snapped your attention back to him. Heart pounding as you blushed, realising as he tilted his head slightly to one side that he had caught you off-guard and slightly snooping.
"Pardon sir?" You asked, swallowing softly as you met his gaze for a moment before you looked down at your hands again. Picking slightly at your nails and more specifically the pale blush nail polish you had hastily tried to apply yourself that morning to hide the fact that you bit your nails. He paused before sighing and leaning forwards onto his elbows, chin resting on his hands as he gave you a somewhat lazy smile.
"I asked, miss..." he glanced at the paperwork before letting your name roll off his tongue in a way that made your heart pound slightly. You weren't sure why it did, but some tiny part of your brain was eager to hear him say it again. "what I was going to do with you. You have a clean employment record...aside from all the dismissals due to.." He paused and pulled his glasses down to peer over them to stare the text, his lips moving silently as he read before putting his attention back onto you. "it says here 'staffing issues and personal life interferance'?" Raising a quizzical eyebrow
"I um... I had some issues at home at that time Mr..." Glancing down at the nameplate on his desk, you realised he had never formally introduced himself to you apart from the handshake. "Raglan. I'd rather not talk about it."
"Well, I can't help you find a job if you don't help me help you." The man you now knew as Steve Raglan sighed, giving you another one of those lopsided smiles that made you feel like you were talking to a sweet, disappointed but supportive dad and gave you a pang in your chest that you might be letting this total stranger down.
"You don't have to tell me today, but I want to see you next week and I want you try to open up, tell me about what was going on and I might be able to offer something." Steve offered, gesturing to his pile of potential job prospects. You weren't aware that he was looking at you again, wondering if you purposely had chosen something that obscured your body-type and meant you weren't confident in yourself, or whether financially you had chosen what option was available.
The way you sat there meekly and picking at your nails was somewhat infuriating as he wanted to demand you looked at him when he spoke, but he remained calm. You were probably his most interesting client to date, hunching in on yourself and avoidant of filling in the blanks that your open ended statement had left. He decided he would lay on the charm slightly, see what got you to cave in and perhaps provide some amusement as his mind whirled with too many ideas and desire to move, do something and be far more active than his life as Steve Raglan allowed.
"I guess I'll see you next week then, thank you having me Mr. Raglan." you spoke softly and stood up. Watching as the hulking man stood too and opened the door with a somewhat sad smile, like he was watching a bright student walk down the wrong path in life.
"Of course, please, take this and give me a call if you would like to talk about this matter sooner. I hate to see a young woman like yourself go to waste because of one little hiccup." Another pang went through your chest as he spoke. He really did seem dissapointed in you, and some how, you found that you wanted to please the man you had met barely half an hour before.
As you walked down the corridoor, his eyes lingered on your smaller retreating form and tilted his head to one side, licking his lips to wet them for a moment in thought. He hoped whatever you were hiding from his was worth his time, and would perhaps find him another fun thing to play with.
#william afton x reader#steve raglan#steve raglan x reader#fnaf movie#fnaf x reader#william afton#springtrap#springtrap x reader#purple guy#william afton x you#william afton smut
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i. incandescent glow
summary: have you ever been so alone you spend the day confusing a man in a coma?
pairing: assumed e.m x reader, eventual s.h x reader
warnings: my blog is 18+ MDNI; mutual pining, yearning, miscommunication, poorly-wired idiot signals, vague nineties vibes, asshole-ish rockstar eddie, best friend & store manager steve, drug abuse, comas and hospitals, found family, hop and wayne knocking sense into people, eventual smut, schmaltzy rom-com goodness, mention of thanksgiving, christmas, and new year's holidays
w.c.: 8.2k
a/n: when I say that writing this kicked my ass, I'm tellin' you I had a rough time. @bettyfrommars this flannel-wearing Steve is for you especially! Please enjoy & I hope y'all like it 🥹
series m.list | playlist | currently spinning:
Steve hadn’t planned for his life to amount to this, he’d simply blinked and found himself in a new decade, still rewinding tapes at Family Video. Granted, he’s district manager now and has several stores in the area he’s responsible for.
Meanwhile, Eddie got the hell outta dodge and Corroded Coffin actually made something of themselves. Two albums under their belt and a forth-coming world tour after the holidays, and, more recently, a cover on the Rolling Stone. Ed had called him up once it was all finalized, “Can you fuckin’ believe it man?!”
And, Steve loves Eddie, so he could actually believe it. He tries and fails to keep his jealousy at bay, Ed is one of his best friends for christ sakes. Steve is happy for him, he really is, despite the revolving doors at rehab centers dotting the west coast, late night calls from strangers because Munson passed out in someone’s bathroom again.
He is, after all, Eddie’s emergency contact. Gareth approached him after the second stint at rehab and suggested it, thought it would be the best all things considered. Steve readily agreed and signed the forms, kept his pager on him, and dutifully smoothed things over when Eddie’s benders got a bit too much.
So, he’s rewinding tapes when his pager goes off. He glances at the number and drags the phone across the counter. Nestling the handset between his shoulder and cheek, he punches in the numbers and shoves the tape in a plastic case to be shelved later.
“Hello, this is Hawkins Memorial Hospital. How may I direct your call?” a kind, if perfunctory voice recites. He can hear the hustle and bustle of the hospital waiting room, muted conversations and the ringing of phones.
“Hi, this is Steve Harrington. I received a page from this number regarding Eddie Munson.” Steve eyes the clock, he’s on closing shift by himself already having sent he employees home to celebrate with their families.
“Yes, one moment please.” The receptionist places him on hold, allowing Steve to rewind a couple more tapes and sort them for shelving. “Mr. Harrington?” the line roars back to life, no longer the receptionist, but the doctor in charge of Eddie’s care instead. “Mr. Munson came into the hospital unresponsive but breathing, he was revived by a…” He rattles off a name that Steve has never heard before. “His, fiancée, as I understand it.”
Steve feels the floor sway under his feet.
Eddie.
With a fiancée?
“She’s here now and in a bit of shock, as you can expect. Since you’re his emergency contact, we wanted to alert you of his current state as well as get any contact information for family and friends that need to be made aware.”
“Oh, uh, sure.”
The doctor continues to relay that they’ve elected to place Eddie under a medically induced coma for the time being, to allow his body to flush the drugs from his system before assessing for any further damage.
Steve is transferred to a medical assistant who takes down Wayne and Hopper’s information. He figures between the two men the job will get done, but let’s be real, it’ll be Joyce that activates the phone tree and calls the kids, and he plans to swing by the hospital later that evening once he’s closed up.
Grabbing the stack of tapes and begins to shelve them with a shake of his head. It would be just like Eddie to get engaged and not be fucked to tell anyone. Returning to the counter, he fiddles with the cuffs of his flannel shirt— Robin got it for him the last time she swung through town, insisted that Steve’s wardrobe needed some serious upgrading and all but thrust it upon him.
“It brings out your eyes,” She said, leaning against the wall outside the dressing room. Her worn boots kicked against one another, half of her reflected in the mirror while Steve assessed.
“It’s brown.”
“And gold!” She turns him around to press down the collar and pop the first two buttons of the shirt open. “It’s color theory man, just trust me on this, okay?”
Which is how Steve found himself the new owner of several flannel shirts of varying hues. And boots. When he complained it was all too lumberjack-like, Robin shushed him and continued to flirt with the cute check-out girl.
But that had been months ago. It was coming on Thanksgiving now and his two best friends had been too busy traveling or showing art pieces to even call. He doesn’t mind, not really— well, he tries not to. Steve gets it, people are busy, things to do and people to see.
The remainder of his shift goes by slowly. Kids home from school, families coming in by the dozen. Steve manages to complete a few menial tasks in between customers, throws on Planes, Trains and Automobiles just to have something on in the background.
He’s helping a regular when his pager beeps again, this time flashing Robin’s number. The door dings as they leave and Steve’s already wedged the phone to balance against his shoulder once more as he leans and elbow on the counter.
“Eddie has a fiancée?!” is the thing she screeches down the line. “When the fuck did that happen? Harrington, you’re supposed to keep me aware of these things!”
He signs and scrubs a hand down his face, “I’m his emergency contact, not his guardian.”
“Have you met her? What’s she like?”
“I don’t—”
“I got the first flight out of the city. Which means I had to go to LaGuardia blech,” She makes a gagging sound down the line. “Jonathan’s picking me up now from Indy. Oh my god, is she pretty?” Robin pings between her travel plans and hypothesizing about Eddie’s girl, “I bet she’s a total knock-out, knowing him. How did they meet? D’ya think she’d pose for me?”
“Slow down there, killer.” Steve laughs, “Might want to meet the girl first before propositioning her.”
She huffs a laugh, “You’re right, of course. She’d probably think I’m insane or something. What would I do without you Stevie?”
“Probably scare off more chicks than you already do.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself Harrington.” Robin’s laugh is loud and warm, soothing something in his gut. “I’ll see you tonight, dingus.”
“Sure, stay safe. Call me later, bye.” He places the phone back in its cradle and has half a mind to check the room behind the curtain, just in case some teenagers slipped past without him noticing, but then the phone rings.
“Thank you for calling Family Video, this is Steve. How may I help you?”
“Uh, hi.” A voice says down the line, small and tight. You introduce yourself, quickly followed by, “I’m at the hospital, with, uh Eddie?”
“Oh! Hi, how’s he doing?”
“Good, still in the coma.”
Steve can hear some voices filtering through the mic, loud and familiar.
“So, Hop and Wayne made it? That’s good.”
“Yeah, yeah, Joyce too. The kids are here too, I guess? It’s all a bit overwhelming.”
He huffs a laugh, “Yeah, I can only imagine.” He occupies himself with the slinky on the counter, much preferring to hear your voice than deal with the families that just walked in, ten minutes to close. “You holding up okay?”
An intake of breath, “Mmhm.”
It’s a feeling he knows well.
You’re overwhelmed by all these people you’d never met, on top of the fact that your fiancee is in a coma. Steve feels like shit, having you handle all of that by yourself. If he hadn’t stupidly sent the mid-shift employees home early, he would have been there to help you navigate it all.
“Joyce wants to know if you’re coming by after work. If we should wait for you,” You say after a beat or two of silence, “Or if you’ll just meet us at the house for Thanksgiving tomorrow?”
Steve rolls his neck in an effort to relieve the built-up tension there, bones popping, he rubs a hand at the nape of his neck. “Could you put her on real quick?”
He listens as the phone changes hands and Joyce’s comforting voice intones, “Steve?”
“She’s freaking out.”
“What?”
He sighs, “The fiancée, she sounds like she’s in a bad way.” He checks out the straggling customers, “Don’t wait on my account. I’ll see Ed after I’m done here.”
“Okay, Steve.”
“Does she have a place to stay? I know Rob is crashing with you and Hop—”
Joyce laughs, “We’ll have a full house I suppose. I can put Jonathan on the couch or something, don’t worry about it Steve.”
“Right. Okay.” He gives the final customer a smile and wave as they wish him a happy holiday. “I’ll see you later.”
Hanging up the phone, Steve walks to the door to turn the lock and flip the sign to ‘closed.’ He lingers against the door, resting his forearms against the bar, watching as the snow falls against the dark sky. Wonders how it is that just from the sound of your voice, he felt himself falling not unlike snowflakes outside.
Earlier that day
Turns out, landing the Corroded Coffin interview was not the boon to your career you thought it would be.
Maybe you’d set yourself up for failure. And it didn’t help that you had one big, fat embarrassing crush on a member of the band. Generally, being a fan of the artist coupled with the tendency to romanticize things in your mind only led to disaster.
Or, in your case, attempting to revive the frontman of the aforementioned band on the bathroom floor.
Eddie Munson was unresponsive at your feet, a panoply of pills and baggies scattered across the floor. Having no time to think, you launch into action— checked for breathing and finding none began CPR followed by chest compressions, all while yelling for help.
Gareth is the one to find you, compressing Eddie’s chest with your two hands in between administering two breaths after every 30 counts.
“Call an ambulance!”
You can’t even bring yourself to feel sorry about your tone, harried and frantic, as he stumbles out to call 911. Thankfully, the paramedics are quick. One paramedic asks, “You’re his fiancée?”
Dumbly, you nod, too in shock to register what’s been said. Someone guides you down the steps and into the front of the ambulance strapping you in with a seatbelt. He can’t just die, you reason, not when Corroded is just taking off— a world tour in the new year and a cover story with Rolling Stone.
Your editor would have your head if something were to go wrong. Munson was notoriously picky with interviews and reporters, it was a miracle they’d approved you for the job. Rumor has it that he’d have much preferred Nancy Wheeler, but the board wasn’t keen to bring in a free-lance reporter for the job.
Somehow, this would be your fault.
Arriving at the hospital isn’t any better. Gareth and the other band members stayed behind to call management and see what was to be done about Eddie, and made you promise to call them once you’d arrived at Hawkins Memorial.
Nevermind that you’re alone in a town you’d never stepped foot in before today. And all at Eddie Munson’s behest.
They rushed him off past the swinging double-doors, out of your reach. Stepping to the front desk, you ask the receptionist where the nearest pay-phone is, and she offers you one of the hospital phones instead.
Dialing the number hastily scribbled onto your hand, your fingers brush along the plastic keys listening for the trill of the ring down the line.
“Hi, Gareth? We made it to the hospital, they took him back with a team of doctors and nurses.”
“You didn’t go back with him?”
“It’s family only, I think?” You scratch the back of your neck nervously. “It’s not a big deal, I can stay in the lobby until you get here.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna be a while…”
He goes on to explain that their team has to meet and discuss next steps. The band can’t leave until they’ve done so and their manager asked them to stay put.
“That’s shitty.”
He hums his agreement.
“And I’m just supposed to stay here by myself? I don’t—”
“That’d be great, that is, if you don’t mind,” Gareth interrupts. “They’ll call his emergency contact soon enough. But we’d really appreciate having someone we know there until then.”
“Oh, okay.”
He thanks you for being so cool with all of this and says his goodbyes. With a short smile, you hand the phone back to the receptionist. Heaving a sigh, you drop your head into your hands and lament, “I was gonna marry him.”
Unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s attending nurse overhears you and recalls how the paramedic who brought him in said something about a fiancee. Turning toward you, she places a delicate hand on your back. You jump with a start and look up.
“You’re the fiancée, right?”
“Wh–”
“It’s okay honey, he’s doing fine. I’ll take you back there now.”
Allowing yourself to be guided by the kind nurse as she prattles on about something or other, you wonder how to get yourself out of this. No one was going to buy that Eddie Munson has a secret fiancee. If he was awake, he’d probably laugh you out of the room himself.
But, as it was, they’d placed him in a medically induced coma to let the drugs work their way out of his system. A small miracle, that. The doctor briefs you on his status, all of which flies directly out of your brain, too focused on how small he looks in the bed. Tubes dripping fluids and machines whirring or beeping every so often. Tattoos a stark contrast to the pallor of his skin, a sharp relief against a marble canvas.
A medical assistant approaches you and asks about an emergency contact or the contact information of family and friends.
“I don’t–”
The dazed look in your eye must give something away because the assistant attempts to pat your back comfortingly before saying they’ll check his personal effects.
The nurse, impossibly kind, rests a hand on your shoulder, “Let him hear your voice, honey.”
Her shoes squeak along the tile floor as she leaves. There’s a brief reprieve where you’re left alone with Eddie in the hospital room. The nurse and medical assistant flit in and out occasionally, making notes in his chart here and there. But you’re transfixed by the man in front of you— beautiful and impossibly out of reach. He was even before the interview, you rationalize, but now he’s even more so. It’s bittersweet, almost, makes you want to reach out and hold the hand at his side, silver rings glinting in the fluorescent lights.
“Hi,” You greet. “I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing here, huh?” You take the seat closest to him. “Well, I didn’t really get a chance to introduce myself, so here it goes.” Taking a sip from the coffee the nurse left to fortify you, you recite your full name. “And I think you should know your family thinks we’re engaged. Never been engaged before, so this is all very sudden for me.” You huff a laugh and roll your eyes, “Um, what I really came here to tell you was, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“I don’t know what to do,” You continue, a quasi-one sided conversation and therapy session all in one neat package. “I’m just a reporter for the Rolling Stone. And if you were awake, or hell, even if Gareth were here, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Oh, god not that I’m blaming you.” Your hand finds his arm briefly before you jerk back as if stung, “Shit, sorry.”
“This is not how I pictured my life going, to be honest with you. I thought when I did get engaged, I’d at least have the luxury of knowing my fiancé, or y’know them being conscious at least.” You sigh and take another sip of shitty coffee, “Don’t get me wrong, I love my life— I’ve got a great job and apartment, I get to travel and write for a living. It’s definitely not a bad gig.”
“It’s just, I never met anyone I could truly be myself with, y’know? Laugh with, and I mean ugly laugh with a snort and witch cackle. D’ya ever believe in love at first sight? No, probably not, you’re too rock and roll for that. Or have you even seen someone, and you knew that if only that person really knew you, they would…”
Thinking back to your Corroded Coffin research and tabloid perusals, you sigh. “Of course, they would dump the perfect model that they were with and realize that you were the one they wanted to grow old with.” You shake your head, realizing how ridiculous you sound, talking to a man in a coma who probably can’t even hear you. Your voice falls to a hush, “You ever fall in love with someone you’ve never even talked to? Have you ever been so alone you spend the day confusing a man in a coma?”
“No? Me neither.”
There’s the sound of shuffling of feet echoing from the hallway, followed by a relived: “Oh, there he is.”
A voice startles you from the doorway, deep and masculine, albeit out of breath. A tall, broad man steps into the room quickly followed by a shorter woman and a lankier man. The first addresses you, “You must be the fiancée, I’m Jim Hopper.” He holds out his hand in greeting.
You shake his hand, palm engulfed in his larger one.
“This is my wife, Joyce, and that there is Eddie’s uncle Wayne.”
“He’s so pale,” She laments, crossing the room to his bedside. “Oh, my god.”
You nod to each of them, dropping your hand from Hopper’s. He studies you and you feel like squirming under his gaze, he’s still in uniform but sets his hat on a nearby chair. Great, just what you needed, a police chief to sniff you out.
Grabbing your things, you ready yourself to leave. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I should—”
“Nonsense,” Joyce says from opposite of you, she brushes a few strands of hair away from Eddie’s face. “The kids’ll be here soon and they’ll want to meet you.”
Wayne claps a hand to your shoulder, warmly giving it a squeeze.
“The doctor said you found him and gave him CPR until the paramedics arrived?”
“Oh, um, yeah.”
“They say the only reason he was breathing when they brought him in was because of you.” His voice is hoarse, he coughs into his fist and clears his throat. “Thank you, for that.”
“It’s what anyone would’ve done.”
He squeezes your shoulder once more, “Not necessarily,” and moves off to sit in one of the chairs.
“The doctor should be back soon,” You say, sitting beside Wayne. “He said the vital signs and brainwaves were looking good.”
Joyce nods and shoots you a smile, making idle chit-chat while the rest of you wait for the kids to arrive. There was some concern over Wayne and his heart condition, doesn’t take to shocking news too well, as you understand it. But who are these kids, Eddie’s kids? You didn’t recall coming across any mention of a previous wife or children in your research, but there are stranger things for rockstars to get up to than having a secret family you suppose.
It’s only when Wayne nudges you with his foot that you realize Joyce has been calling your name, “Where are you staying?”
“Oh, a hotel for the night.” You say softly, “I have to get back to New York soon.”
“Well, I won’t hear of it.” Joyce says looking to Hopper, “She’ll stay with us, won’t she Jim?”
He looks back at his wife and seeing her steely resolve, he knows better than to argue with her. “Sure, you’ll spend the holiday with us.”
Damn.
“Oh, we should see if we need to wait for Steve,” Joyce notes, just as a gaggle of people walk in. “Hi kids!” She stands quickly to greet them, their names coming too fast for you to keep up. A man and woman about your age bring up the rear, Joyce hugging them in turn.
Quietly, you step out to collect yourself. After taking a few breaths, you spot the medical assistant from earlier and flag him down for the emergency contact information. He scribbles a name and several phone numbers on a scrap of paper, “I would try this one first,” He points to the middle number, “It’s the work line, I think.”
“Great, thank you!”
Entering the room again, Wayne introduces you as Eddie’s fiancee and rescuer, to whoops and hollers. The younger woman lets out a wolf-whistle and drops you a wink, causing the heat to skitter underneath your skin. Making toward the phone, you dial the number and read the name on the paper.
Steve Harrington.
“Thank you for calling Family Video, this is Steve. How may I help you?”
The rich baritone of his voice, strong and deep, brings a quiver to your knees. Stumbling your way through an introduction, you make disastrous small-talk and wave Joyce over. She takes the phone with a smile, pushing you lightly toward the assembled group where the young woman, Robin, takes you under her wing.
“Fiancée, huh?” She asks with a quirked brow, to your noncommittal shrug. “Hmm.” Her eyes sweep toward Eddie, “I think you can do better,” She jokes with a wink.
Wayne drives you from the hospital to the house, graciously stopping by a grocery store along the way because you didn’t want to show up empty-handed. You make quick work of the deserted aisles, grabbing the necessary ingredients for pumpkin and pecan pie. He helps you to load the bags in the back of the truck and softly croons along to Woody Guthrie as he drives along the icy streets.
A comfortable silence sits between you. Wayne Munson is a man of few words, which is fine by you. The less opportunity for talking yourself into a hole, the better. He comes to a stop in front of a two-storey house festooned with Christmas lights. He carries your bags from the truck into the house, promising Joyce that he’ll be back tomorrow for Thanksgiving. Joyce rolls her eyes fondly and turns back toward the kitchen, leaving the pair of you in the entryway.
You rock back on your heels uncomfortably. Before you can make your escape, Wayne’s hand falls to your shoulder again kneading gently. You glance up to find his watery eyes and quiet smile; he pulls you in for a brief hug. “Thank you sweetheart,” He sighs, followed by a sniff, “I don’t know where he’d be without you, or where we’d be for that matter.” Giving you a final squeeze, he releases you and calls out a goodbye to Hopper and Joyce, shutting the front door behind him.
“Hey kid,” Hopper says, leaning against the bannister. “Join me outside for a minute?” He shrugs into his coat and nods toward the front porch. “Lemme grab my smokes, I’ll meet you out there.”
Well, shit.
It takes everything in you to not give in and pace along the icy boards of the porch as you wait. He’s figured you out, you know he has, and now he’s going to kick you out and you’ll have to call a cab and get back to the hotel before booking it to the airport first thing tomorrow.
“I know you and Munson aren’t involved, kid.” Hopper shuts the front door with a soft click, “Heard you back at the hospital talking to him.”
Your blood goes cold and you know there’s no way you can spin yourself out of this one. “I know, I know and I’m so sorry. It just all happened so fast and Wayne has that heart thing—” Your voice is choked and tight as you try to explain.
“Hey, slow down, take a breath. This isn’t the end of the world.”
“I’ll tell them, I just—”
He shakes his head and lets out a sigh, “Let me level with you,” He brushes off the snow and ice from the top step and invites you to sit down beside him. “God knows what that boy did to earn your attention, cause I certainly can’t make heads or tails of it.” He lights up a cigarette and offers one to you, “No? Can’t say I blame you, it’s a bad habit.” He takes a long drag in thought, leaving you to stew in your guilt. “What I’m trying to say is this: whatever you did, it brought him back. Eddie’s here and breathing because of you, so, in a way, we have him back because of you.”
You stay silent, knowing that whatever Hopper just shared with you is important. The guilt doesn’t leave you, not entirely, but this gruff lawman confiding in you does lodge something loose from the knot in your chest. And when he throws his arm over your shoulders to draw you to his side, you can’t help the watery smile that makes its way across your face.
He smells like your dad, the same blend of tobacco, leather, and spice. It’s been far too long since you’ve indulged in the memory of him, so you allow yourself the weakness, just this once.
And you let Hopper lead you back inside his loud and warmly lit home where Joyce greets you with a plate for dinner and promises to help you bake the pies for tomorrow.
Steve is dead on his feet when he arrives at Hop and Joyce’s house. He’d swung by the hospital to check on Eddie and talked with the doctor and nurses. It was all pretty standard— let him dry out and then assess for further damage. His vitals were good and there didn’t appear to be a need for concern at this point. The doctor, of course, recommended a stay in rehab after being discharged from the hospital, which was already suggested by Corroded’s management team.
“You fucking idiot.”
That’s the first thing Steve says to Eddie, quickly followed by:
“When you wake up, I’m gonna kill you myself.”
He doesn’t linger, knowing he’ll be back tomorrow, and the next day until Eddie wakes up. But it’s gone midnight by the time he turns the key at Hop’s place, kicking his boots at the door to rid them of the snow and ice, before toeing them off at the door. They thunk across the hardwood as he carelessly kicks them off, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it on the hooks by the door.
“Sshh, dingus, you’re gonna wake her up!” Robin hisses as her socked feet light down the stairs.
Steve smiles, relieved to see her, before asking, “Wake up who?”
Robin rolls her eyes and gestures to your sleeping form on the sofa. Steve studies you from a few steps up, one hand resting on the wooden bannister while the other pauses mid-air as he unravels his scarf. “Eddie’s fiancée, of course.”
“So, that’s her?”
You’ve turned your back to them, and you’ve curled in ever so slightly on the sofa. One of Joyce’s many blankets covers you, but your socked feet stick out from underneath one corner— dancing penguins.
At least, that’s what Steve thinks are on your socks. But, he may need to get his eyes checked again.
“What, you haven’t met her?” Robin takes in Steve’s shocked expression, before it softens into something akin to how he goes all moon-eyed at the babes who frequented Scoops Ahoy or Family Video when they were teens as his eyes fall to you once more. “She’s great, you’ll love her. Now c’mon, let’s get you some food.”
“Cereal?”
She snorts at that, “Not my cereal. You took the toy surprise last time!”
Safely ensconced in the kitchen, Robin and Steve catch up in between bites of sugary cereal. She regales him with how valiantly Jonathan tried to get you to take his room upstairs for your stay and how stubbornly you’d refused, insisting you’d be fine on the couch.
“I was right,” Robin says, some milk dribbling from her mouth as she chews. “Total knock-out and smart. Dunno how Munson managed it.”
“Oh y’know, the Munson charm probably.”
She hums in thought, setting her empty bowl in the sink. “Why d’you think he didn’t tell us?”
“Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise?”
“Fuck, what if he knocked her up?!”
Steve’s eyes blow wide at that thought. “Uh,” He says, astutely, “I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Yeah,” Robin hops down from her perch on the counter. “But how do we know?”
“You could ask her.”
She punches him in the arm, “You don’t just ask women if they’re pregnant Steve, geeze.”
He shrugs and slurps the sugary milk from the bowl before setting it alongside Robin’s. He licks his lips and crosses his arms in thought. Steve hadn’t considered the rather obvious conclusion that his rockstar best friend had inadvertently knocked someone up. Considering the groupies and types that flocked to Eddie, it was a long time coming.
If that’s what the case may be.
As it stands, it’s nearly two in the morning and Steve is exhausted. Thankfully, Family Video is closed for the holiday tomorrow, but he knows that in a few hours everyone is going to tramping around the house and generally being a nuisance. And he really doesn’t wanna drive clear across town to his place.
Steve pauses on the stairs, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. Robin clears the landing and calls to him from the guest room, “C’mon dingus, I haven’t got all night.”
With a shake of his head, he climbs the stairs mindful not to linger too long on the creaky boards. He settles in sharing a bed with Robin, her icicle feet darting under his calves as he fusses with the blankets. His head hits the pillow, and he’s out like a light.
All you can think as you blearily blink yourself awake, is how everything is so loud. Even when they try to be quiet, scampering across the hall past the living room where you clung to the last vestiges of sleep - it was loud. Strained whispers about breakfast and hospital visits, the opening and closing of doors, Hopper hissing at the kids to “Keep your mouths shut,” and to “Stop chasing each other across the house!”
A man, whom you can only assume is Steve, stumbles down the stairs, sweats swung low on his hips sporting a threadbare t-shirt and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You’ve never seen a human being with bedhead like that - strands sticking up every which way and the sheer volume it had, my god. Hand falling from his eye, his glasses slot back into place, a pair of simple round frames decked in silver. He stops short at the landing, one hand grasping the wood of the bannister, watching as you set the phone back in its cradle.
“Leaving so soon?”
And that voice - all husky and low from sleep, with a slight rasp to it. It’s amazing you’re not reduced to a puddle on the floor at this point. He stretches slowly, like an animal would, a hushed groan falling from his lips. You swallow the lump in your throat and drag your eyes from the sliver of skin exposed at his hip.
“No, just talking to Wayne.” You offer meekly, voice rusty from disuse, “He’s on his way over for an early morning hospital run.”
“Mmm,” Steve nods, “That’s not a bad idea.” He turns the corner from the stairs and stands beside you in the entryway. “I don’t think we’ve officially met,” He says, offering his hand to shake. “I’m Steve.”
“Nice to meet you.” You shake hands and introduce yourself. His hand is large and warm, the contact of your skin against his sending a shiver down your spine.
“That’s a pretty name,” He smiles at you, beginning to wake up a bit more. “So, you’re the fiancée.”
“Yup.”
“Huh.” He looks you up and down, clucks his tongue and departs, making his way toward the kitchen.
Once there, all hell breaks loose. Joyce and Hop are manning the stove and counter, flipping pancakes and shovelling eggs onto plates and all but throwing them at the kids. Wedged into the breakfast nook are Dustin, Lucas, and Mike while El, Max, Robin, and Jonathan commandeer the table in the kitchen.
“Mornin’ family.” Steve greets, bee-lining for the coffeemaker. Blessedly, there’s a fresh pot brewing in the percolator while he scavenges for a mug.
Mumbled versions of “Morning Steve,” sound out from the peanut gallery between bites of food and sips of coffee or orange juice. Joyce sets a plate in front of him on the counter and ruffles his hair, “Morning kiddo.”
Hop sighs from the stove, turning the dial of the burner to ‘Off’ before intoning, “The kitchen is officially closed, you gremlins.”
Steve chuckles as he removes the coffeepot and gives a generous pour into the ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug El made many moons ago. He’s not sure of your preferred cream-to-sugar ratio, so he decides to go without and trots out of the kitchen.
He sees the front door close at the end of the hall and quickens his step not wanting to miss you. Spying a pair of slides from god knows who, he slips them on and pulls the door open. Wayne’s old pickup is idling in the driveway as you step into the cab, feet unsteady and the newly formed ice of the drive. Wayne nods to Steve in greeting as he walks toward the house, while Steve waves in return.
“Careful,” He says as a hand comes to rest at your back.
Tossing a ‘thanks’ over your shoulder, you settle into the seat with a click of the seatbelt. “Did you need something?” You ask, breath forming puffs of vapor in the morning light.
“Well, uh,” Steve begins, ducking his head and gesturing to the mug in his hand. “The coffee’s not too great over there at the hospital.” He hands you the mug through the open door.
“Oh, thank you.”
He leans against the car, face level with yours. One fist at the roof of the cab while his opposite arm braces against the open door. A lock of hair falls into his face, and he’s so attractive that it’s stupid. “So, uh, y-you’re comin’ back, right? You’ll come back?”
You glance to him, unsure of why he’s so concerned with your whereabouts. “Yeah, we’re just checking in. We’ll be back soon.”
Steve nods at your confirmation, pushing off of the truck to stand at his full height. His hands slide to his hips, fingers just beneath the band of the sweatpants as he slowly arches his back, hips bobbing toward you. And you don’t know whether to maintain eye contact with him or focus on the looming proximity of his crotch.
“Oh boy,” He exhales, looking off into the distance. “What a day.”
Your eyes dart away when he looks to you once more, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “Well, thank you.” You hold the mug up and take a tentative sip, “Good goddamn,” You whisper in disbelief.
“It’s good, right?” You nod and take another sip as he smiles, “I had a dream about you last night.” He tugs at the band of his sweats while your eyes cut to his.
“What?”
“Yeah,” He leans against the truck again, face closer to yours and arms resting against the roof of the cab. “I ended up havin’ a dream about you.”
“W-what was I doing?” You stammer out, as the sound of crushed snow and ice underfoot signals Wayne’s return.
“Well–” Steve starts to say before he’s cut off by Wayne’s, “Y’ready, sweetheart?”
You nod and clear your throat uncomfortably.
“You comin’?” Wayne asks Steve before he closes the passenger door.
“Later.” He turns to leave as Wayne settles into the driver’s seat but before you can pull out of the driveway, “Oh, y’know, you gotta make sure to bring back the mug because it’s Hop’s favorite.”
You stare back at him blankly.
“Or he’ll kill ya.”
“Okay,” You breathe watching as he makes his way back to the house, Adidas slides flopping through the snow.
Returning from the hospital an hour or so later, with plans to bring a few plates over for Eddie’s attending doctor and nurses, you nearly breeze past Steve sitting on the staircase with a mug of coffee and paper in hand.
“Hey,” You greet, toeing off your boots and shrugging out of your coat. “Wayne’s coming back for later, just had to grab some things from his place.”
He’s changed out of his sweats and done something to tame his hair. You can hear Joyce frantically corralling the kids in the kitchen, something about Mass and how she refuses to be late again. Steve shakes his head and drinks his coffee, ready and waiting to cart Robin, Dustin, and Max over to Our Lady of Perpetual Mercy for the Thanksgiving Mass.
But it would seem that no one warned you about Mass last night, which would explain the deer in headlights look you’re sporting now. Steve stands from his perch on the stairs, turning to yell at Robin, “Our Lady may have perpetual mercy, but I don’t and you’re really pushing it today Rob!”
When he turns back, you’re no longer in the entryway. The kitchen door swings as if someone just passed through, and he can hear your voice over the chatter from the kids. Joyce is rattling off instructions and times for food to be cooked and you’re diligently taking notes on the whiteboard attached to the fridge. Your handwriting is neat, and a bit slanted, giving it an effortless look. Capping the marker, you let it swing from the string on the fridge.
“Think that about does it,” You assure Joyce, gesturing to the lone velcro roller in her hair. “I’ll have everything ready by the time you get back.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with?” She asks, unraveling the roller and setting it on the windowsill above the sink. “I’m sure Robin has something you could borrow.”
Steve catches your eye roll and snorts into his mug. Your eyes cut to him, silently admonishing his outburst. He shakes his head and sets the mug on the counter, seeing Hop’s mug he loaned you earlier already on the drying rack.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” You kindly brush her off, “Besides, you’ll want to get going soon and I would just hold you up.”
“And the hotel is dropping off your luggage later?”
You nod, tying on an apron and moving to wash your hands. “Yeah, I spoke with the concierge this morning.”
“I wish you’d just sleep in Jonathan’s old room,” Joyce tuts, “He can go on the couch, he’s used to it.”
“Mom, I already offered—”
You laugh and raise your hand, “It’s fine Joyce, I’m already an imposition as it is. The last thing I’d want to do is put him out.”
Steve watches as you blend in with the family, how easily you soothe Joyce and her worries, banter with the kids, and crack jokes with Hop. It’s easy to see why Eddie could fall for someone like you. He just wishes he could find someone like that— easy going and kind, someone who fits in like a missing puzzle piece.
But maybe it’s too perfect.
Now there’s some food for thought.
A loud honk from Hop’s Bronco jars him from his musings. Steve claps his hands together, rallying the troops, “Okay, who’s with me?” Dustin, Lucas, and Max jump up from the table and gather their coats, scurrying out to the beemer. Robin takes the stairs two at a time, struggling to shrug into her coat. “Look alive, sunshine!”
Goodbyes ring out as you follow them to the porch, watching as they clamber into their cars. You wave as they pull out of the drive, Joyce rolling down the window for a final reminder about the dinner rolls. With good humor, you nod and give her a thumbs up as the Bronco drives onto the street.
The church parking lot is packed by the time they arrive. Steve drops off Robin and the kids before peeling out to find a parking spot, while Hop leaves the Bronco in the drop-off lane in front. Mass has already begun when Steve enters the chapel, quickly he slips in alongside Hop and Joyce at the family pew.
“We pray that the Lord’s healing presence will be felt by those who are sick and by their families. Especially Robert Newby, Barbara Holland, and Edward Munson. We pray to the Lord,” The priest intones from the lectern.
“Lord hear our prayer.”
Steve stands in between Hopper and Robin, waiting for the priest to move it along.
“O, God, you call us to live as one family. Save us from…”
Finally, they sit. Half-paying attention to the priest, Steve turns to Hop and asks, “So, who’s this fiancée?”
“She’s Eddie’s girl, she’s family now.”
“You’d think if Eddie were getting married, he would have announced it in the Times.”
Hop turns to him, “We read the Indianapolis Star.”
And the congregants say, “Amen.”
“If she’s family, why isn’t she at Mass with us?”
Hop snorts, “That’s rich, comin’ from you, kid.”
“I like Mass better in Latin,” Wayne pipes up from his seat next to Joyce, “It’s nicer when you don’t know what they’re sayin’.”
“D’ya think about what I said the other night?”
“Nope.”
“Steve, come on.” Hop stands with the rest of the congregation, “You’ve got the instinct for it, and gettin’ through the Academy is a breeze.”
“I told you,” Steve says following suit, “I don’t wanna be a cop for chrissakes.”
“Stop swearing,” Joyce hisses, “We’re in Mass.”
“But there is something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Well, you can talk about it later,” Joyce reminds them.
“Talk about it now,” Robin says leaning toward Steve conspiratorially, “He can’t kill you in church.”
“Will you please pipe down?” An exasperated parishioner asks from the pew behind them.
Hop scoffs and slowly turns around, “Hey, be nice, pal. We’re in church.”
“You’re disrupting the Mass!” He hisses back.
“Yeah? And who made you the Pope?”
“Jim!” Joyce hisses, nudging with an elbow.
“Now how did Argyle get to be a lector?” Wayne asks, “He took over Ed’s gig with Reefer Rick after he moved to LA with the band.”
Steve and Hopper snort, Robin tries and fails to repress her laughter. Down past Wayne, Dustin and Mike are a few seconds from a slap fight while Max and El whisper in between fits of giggles. Joyce sighs deeply.
And the congregation says, “Amen.”
Cooking Thanksgiving lunch goes off without a hitch. Everything was ready, as you promised, by the time they’d returned from Mass and you’d caught the tail end of Joyce’s scolding: “We will try to behave as a civilized family might—”
The kitchen door swung open to reveal Hopper and Joyce both stopping short at the sight of you washing dishes.
“H-how did you—” Joyce’s mouth opens and closes, struck dumb at the sight of gleaming dishes in the drying rack and the dishwasher already running.
“Oh, hi,” You toss over your shoulder, “The dining room table is set, I was just cleaning up in here.”
Steve and Robin file in soon after, bickering about something or other. They’re talking fast and cutting each other off, but it doesn’t deter their conversation.
“Why do you keep singling me out?” Steve balks, throwing his coat on the back of a nearby chair.
“Well, if you hadn’t been pestering Hop throughout Mass we might’ve—”
“And I can’t even defend myself?”
“Forget it,” Hop cuts in with a warning tone, “And I know you gave her my mug, Harrington.”
“Oh, did you need it?” Your hand flies to the cabinet above the coffeemaker, a fresh pot already brewed. “It’s all washed and ready to go.”
Dustin enters shortly after, “Let’s just vote Steve off the island,” and thumps him on the chest in passing.
“Yeah,” Hop agrees.
Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “Well, I’m ashamed of all of you.”
“Oh, there’s some news,” Max mutters sarcastically, leaning against the fridge.
Steve’s eyes fall to Lucas, “Even you Sinclair.”
Lucas throws up his hands in exasperation, “I didn’t even do anything!”
“Okay, enough.” Joyce says cutting through the nonsense. “It’s Thanksgiving, we’re going to eat lunch without any of this bickering. And then, with any luck, you lot will pass out watching the game and I can finally get some goddamn peace.”
Everyone has the decency to look mildly embarrassed, that is until:
“No swearing.”
Steve punches Robin in the arm, “Can it.”
The room descends into guffaws and fits of laughter shortly thereafter. Joyce eventually herds everyone into the dining room, Robin pours the drinks while Hop carves the turkey. Everyone helps themselves to the various sides— dinner rolls, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and roasted veggies. Wayne arrives with cornbread fresh from the oven and some vanilla ice cream to go with the pies for dessert.
The candles are lit casting a warm glow around the room, illuminating smiling faces. And it’s nice. Nice to belong, if only temporarily, to a big family that loves hard. Growing up, it had been only you and your dad. And after his death, that left only you. You had missed it, all of it— the inside jokes, sibling taunts, half-assed scolding followed by a cheeky wink, and that effortless touch.
It was second nature, how freely they expressed their affection for one another. Steve roping Dustin into a half-nelson for a noogie, Jonathan and Will kicking eachother under the table, El and Max communicating in half-formed sentences and wild gesticulations, Joyce, Hop, and Wayne sharing long-suffering sighs.
“Hey,” Robin says, nudging you with her elbow after refilling your wine glass. “I’m thankful for you.” Her voice is soft, like she’s sharing a secret. Cheeks tinged with a flush from the wine, she smiles at you and raises her glass. “I’d like to propose a toast,” She announced to the group, “To our newest addition and guardian angel, cheers!”
The sentiment is echoed across the table, calls of your name and ‘here, here.’ And it’s so kind that your heart could burst. You sip your wine and swallow around the lump in your throat. Going back to your meal, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched, observed. Glancing up, you catch Steve looking at you from across the table.
The flicker of golden light against his face does little to ease the knot in your chest. His hair is slightly disheveled, a lock falling across his face wrought loose from his fingers combing through it. His eyes appear more green than hazel in the light, studying you from behind wire frames. Your pulse kicks up under his scrutiny, and he looks at you as if you’ll unravel right then and there.
Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe it was the years of tropical vacations instead of celebrating holidays with friends and family that made you forget that, actually, families are complicated and any recollection of pleasant holiday celebrations spent with your dad were a figment of your own nostalgia-tinted imagination and the promise of skiing the next day.
For a moment, shame creeps upon you like a thief in the night. You tear yourself from Steve's gaze, not noticing the concerned furrow of his brows as you hastily stand and offer to clear some plates from the table. Sweeping out of the room and nudging the kitchen door open with your hip. He absentmindedly swirls the remaining wine in his glass and blows out a puff of air.
Ever the detective, it takes Hopper all of two seconds to ascertain that Steve did something to hasten your departure from the table. Seeing as the punk is pointedly not looking his way, Hopper lobs a dinner role at Steve, grazing his cheek only to land on his plate sending the cutlery clattering. He jerks upright, setting the glass on the table, “What the–”
“That’s enough,” Hop warns with cool detachment and a knowing look in his eye. He nods toward the kitchen, “Now, go make nice.”
Everything is still mostly out of your control in the kitchen, precisely because you don’t know where anything should go and having a knot in your chest as hard as a rock does little to help matters. But Steve silently rescues you by beginning to unload the dishwasher and Robin starts a thirty minute tale of increasing ridiculousness and by the time the attention turns back to you, you are slightly less hysteric and better able to answer El’s kind questions.
You swallow a twist of guilt and a bigger twist of gratitude. You feel some anxiety brimming in your stomach and nod, giving El a strained smile.
Something knocks against your shoulder. The warm scent of cedar and musk invading your senses— Steve.
“Your shoulders are up near your ears,” he observes.
You sigh at that, trying to roll out the tension, but not quite managing to. Par for the course, with your indeterminate stay in Hawkins looming in the air and stretching far across the foreseeable future.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#fic: tbsg#Spotify
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Times Long Since Past - Soap x You x Ghost
Content Warnings - Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, therapy, pregnancy
A/N - Not gonna lie when I say I nearly cried writing this part.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
The therapy office was located in a strip mall that had obviously once been a 1950s era housing estate in the past. You glance around the parking lot before Simon places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you from whatever pit you were trying to sink into. “Don’t stress.” He mutters and you roll your eyes.
“When in the history of the world did that ever make someone not stress?” You ask and he shakes his head but you can see his eyes crinkle just slightly. You sigh and look at the general area where the office was as your hand rests on your stomach. “Do you really think this will help?”
Simon nods, “It helps.” You sigh again before you nod and begin walking towards the office. A bell jingles over the door when you enter the office, Simon not far behind you and keeps the door open for you so it doesn’t bang into you. The receptionist smiles at you, a well practiced kind smile as she gestures for you to come forward. The waiting room was comfortable, only one other person sat in one of the chairs mindlessly flipping through the magazines.
“Name?” The woman asks and you try not to let the happiness in her voice grate on your soul. Would you be happy like her again? You give her your name and she nods as she types it into the computer, “Date of birth?” You mindlessly rattle it off and give her the time of your appointment (in fifteen minutes) and she smiles at you, “Alright, if you could fill out these forms,” She passes the forms on a clipboard with a pen. “And take a seat. The doctor will be with you shortly.”
You waddle over to the nearest seat and sit down before you start to fill out the form. Its basic questions and you recognize them all from your psych evals in the military. You bite your cheek before you begin to fill them out truthfully. When you finish, you hand the clipboard back to the receptionist and sit back down.
The therapist is nice. Clinically nice. You want to scream and rage as he calmly asks questions about what brought you here. His voice is perfectly level and you can’t even use it as an excuse for the reason you think he’s judging you. “It's not my job to judge, it's my job to help.” He says when you hesitate to answer.
“I lost someone very close to me.” You answer, picking over the words carefully because you and Johnny hadn’t put a label on it before he had died. Your stomach lurches at that sudden thought and you squeeze your hands into fists.
“I see. Was this person the father of your child?” He asks and you nod tightly. The thought still leaves an awful taste in your mouth.
“He died in action.” You take in a shaky breath, “He didn’t even know.”
“Let's start there. If at any moment you feel uncomfortable we can stop this session.”
You leave not feeling better or worse but like a small weight had been lifted from your chest. As you walk back out into the waiting room with the therapist, talking about the date of your next appointment you see Simon. You freeze, having totally forgotten he had promised to wait for you the entire time. He inclines his head at you and you're brought crashing back into reality.
You climb into his car and as he turns it on he offers to buy some lunch. “Got any cravings?”
“I’m pregnant. Of course I have cravings.” You grumble, “Mexican food. From this little hole in the wall place.” He hands you his phone, which is all kinds of busted up but the screen still works so he hasn’t replaced it yet, for you to type the address into.
You take a seat at one of the outside tables and a young man hands you both a small menu. The smell from inside the restaurant makes your stomach rumble and apparently the baby is into the smell too because they kick at your stomach. Hard.
You wince and bow your head a little as you hiss out a “ Fuck. ” You don’t see the way panic shoots through Simon but you feel his hand grab yours. You don’t pull away.
“Are you okay? Are you in pain?” He asks and you shake your head.
“The baby just decided to do some kickboxing, no big deal.” You let out a tight laugh that hardly seems to convince Simon. “Simon, I’ll tell you if it hurts okay? Promise.” Those words seem to put at ease and the arrival of your waiter draws attention from the way his ears turn pink.
Lunch is quiet between the two of you after that moment partially helped by the way you sort of shovel the food into your mouth. You can’t help the small moan that leaves you as you bite into enchilada and Simon coughs on the sweet soda he had been drinking.
You and Simon arrive back at your flat, takeout box in hand because your eyes were bigger than your stomach and you had ordered another enchilada and he places it in your fridge as you settle down onto the couch. Exhaustion pulls at you despite the good sleep you had gotten last night and you hardly notice when Simon places the throw blanket on your lap.
“You know… you still have some gifts to open.” Simon mutters and you look at him with bleary eyes and make a noise of confusion before you look at what he has in his hands. The gifts from the MacTavish family. Your stomach sinks and your throat closes up at the sight. You sniffle but reach for one of the soft green green eyes.
Inside the first one is a little soft green dinosaur onesie and a few baby books. One of the books has a couple of lullabies and nursery rhymes. The other is easy recipes to make during the first couple months with the baby. More onesies in the next one, soft blues, pinks and yellows, a teddy bear and a card with a heartfelt message from his sisters. Of course a few items such as a milk pump and a diaper bag are already filled to the brim with items.
Just as you think you’ve finished opening everything, Simon hands you a card and one more bag. “The cards from Mrs. MacTavish, the bag is from me.” He clarifies although he really didn’t need to. The bag was a soft gray. You open his gift first and genuinely laugh when it's a onesie with little skulls. You shake your head at his gift before you set it to the side. You carefully pull the card from the envelope it was in and open it. A couple pictures fall onto your lap but you read the message first.
My bairn was a lot of trouble during those first few months. I hope yours doesn’t come with the same mischief for the sake of both of you. I know there is nothing I can say to ease the pain or the hole that Johnny left in you but you’re not alone. You’ve been given a beautiful gift whether he knew it or not. You’ll always have a piece of my wee boy and you’ll always be welcome in my home. I’ve made a few copies of pictures of when Johnny was a wee bairn for you. Welcome to the MacTavish family.
You glance down at the pictures, tears in your eyes as you look through them. You couldn’t help the small laugh that left you at one of the pictures. Chubby baby Johnny pouting in his chosen outfit but the others make tears fall from your eyes. You rub your thumb over one of the photos of him smiling up at the camera, chubby hands holding his foot up.
#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you#soap#call of duty#cod#ghost x reader#mw3 spoilers#simon ghost riley#thyh#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x soap#ghost x soap x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#soap x ghost#soap x y/n#soap x you#soap x reader
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Tattoo Cherry
Summary: You've been working as the receptionist for Deja Vu Tattoo for about two years now and you still haven’t gotten a tattoo. But recently, you've been playing with the idea in your head so what's the plan? Oh right, ask your friend and the owner, Hongjoong, to do the honors.
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Hongjoong x F!Reader
Words: 4k
Warnings: corruption kink highk, fingering/oral (fem receiving), vaginal sex, no protection (please... use protection), a bit of dirty talk, they're horny idiots, mutual pining, besties with tension
Genre: smut
You didn't hate tattoos. Quite the opposite, actually. You thought tattoos were amazing. You couldn't wrap your mind around the idea of someone committing to something so personal for the rest of their life. Marriage was a similar concept in that area but even that wasn't as permanent.
You've always wanted one in the back of your mind. Despite the pain, despite the scariness of keeping it on your skin, and despite the fact that you didn't have a single clue what you'd get. A butterfly was too basic and so were flowers and lions and whatever else. The more you thought about it, the more it made your head hurt. It had to mean something for sure but you didn't think anything was worthy enough to be tatted on your skin.
You thought working for your best friend Hongjoong would help with this. He had come to you a few weeks after he had opened his shop called Deja Vu Tattoo and asked if you needed a job. You didn't, really. You had a job at a boring office working a simple nine to five but you also had a Hongjoong and after knowing him for a few years, you knew working for him would be better than any office job.
It was an easy job, for sure. You answered calls, booked appointments, ordered supplies, and made sure the shop was running when Hongjoong got too overwhelmed. He paid you decently and through him, you met his seven other best friends who were absolute dreams. Not only were they insanely nice to look at but they were sweet guys who made you feel included. It was a family.
"Y/n, you should've been here! The client was practically screaming and I didn't even pierce her yet." Jongho huffed as he threw himself on the couch in the waiting area. He was ranting about some client that was so sensitive. You just wanted to order masks in peace but you decided to listen anyway. "And get this, it was just her ears. Can you imagine?"
"You sound extra bothered today, Jongho." You pointed out, your fingers stilling over the keyboard just so you could give him a look. He pouted at you.
"I get that it's my job but I don't understand how you can be so squeamish over an ear-piercing. She even brought her boyfriend and he just kept apologizing the entire time. I didn't even get to pierce her." Jongho's the youngest of the bunch and while he was mature in a lot of ways, his age seemed to show whenever he was feeling petty.
"Are you bothering y/n again?" Seonghwa asked, running a hand through his hair. "You know she's busy."
"Busy, my ass. She's probably playing tetris or something."
You gasp and put your hand on your chest as if you’d been shot. “I would never.”
"And what if she gets calls?" The elder scolded, "Or someone comes in and hears you talking shit about a client. Can you at least wait till we close?"
Seonghwa's the oldest of the eight men. While you made sure the shop was in tip-top shape whenever Hongjoong was busy, Seonghwa made sure the boys kept their heads on straight. He was the official second in command and he didn't hesitate to keep the boys in their place.
"Seonghwa, you can relax. Let the little boy rant." Seonghwa immediately burst into a fit of laughter but Jongho stayed silent with crossed arms and a frown.
"I'm literally twenty-two years old!"
"Then you should probably act like it!" Hongjoong called from his office. You and Seonghwa were practically hollering as Jongho stomped back to his tattoo station. Hongjoong came out of his office shortly after, standing beside you as you continued to order things. "Hello, Beautiful." He greeted.
"Hello," You smiled up at him, "Is there anything else you need from me before we head out?"
"Head out? Where are you guys going?" Seonghwa asks, making himself more comfortable on the couch and taking out his phone.
"We're going to get some lunch. We'll be out for a little bit." Hongjoong replied.
"So a date?" Seonghwa teased. You choked on your spit. A date with Hongjoong?
He shifted slightly in his spot, "We're going out for a good meal. Hold down the fort till I get back?"
Seonghwa finally looks up from his phone, "I always do."
It wasn't a date. Hongjoong didn't think of you like that but you couldn't really say that you didn't think of him like that. The guy was dripping with charisma. He was a talented tattoo artist who always made sure that his personal clients and the other boys' clients felt comfortable. He took his craft seriously and treated everyone with respect. Not to mention, the man was a walking example of sex appeal. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that much.
Maybe it was the way he carried himself, making sure to walk around with confidence but staying humble. Maybe it was the way that he was comfortable in his masculinity to the point where he wasn't afraid of painting his nails or occasionally showing up to work with makeup on. Or maybe it was that not-so-random neck tattoo of the flower you drew for him when you first met. You'd love to date Hongjoong, you just didn't know if he wanted to date you and you sure as hell weren't going to make the first move.
The restaurant you pull up to is small and cozy. The atmosphere was nice and you were well aware that you and Hongjoong looked so out of place. It was like Beauty and the Beast but only if the Beast was covered in black ink and not brown fur. Hongjoong didn't seem to mind the staring though so neither did you. They were probably staring because he was so good-looking.
"What are you going to order?" He asks, flipping through the menu.
"I'm thinking this kimchi plate. You?" It wasn't unnatural for Hongjoong to take you out on your lunch break. In fact, it was pretty common. He didn't take you out when he was super busy but those were the days that you would bring him food to make sure he had something in his system. You cared for each other.
"This curry ramen looks really good."
Any situation that involved Hongjoong flowed really well. There was never a dull moment when you spent time with him. He carried the conversation if there was even a moment of awkwardness.
"So, I've been thinking..." You start, leaning back in your chair.
Hongjoong laughs, "That can't be good."
"I'm being serious, right now." You shot back even though you laughed at his joke, "I'm thinking of getting a tattoo."
"Finally! You've been working at the shop for some time now. I'm surprised you didn't want one sooner."
"I still have no idea what to get but I want you to tattoo me."
Hongjoong's eyes widened as he sipped his soda. He felt a sudden foreign feeling... was it nervousness? Sure was. He's tattooed hundreds of people. It wasn't a matter of whether or not he thought he was good enough. He was just scared to fuck up your first-ever tattoo, especially because you meant so much to him.
He also felt strangely turned on at the idea of being your first. Your skin's as smooth as porcelain, and even though you weren't a virgin by any means, he'd be the first to permanently taint your skin. There'd be physical proof that he had been there. It was sick to think this way, he knew. You weren't an object that needed to be branded but it sparked a sudden sense of possessiveness.
He wasn’t blind either. You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever laid his eyes on. Your hair was always styled so nice and your makeup on point, although he preferred you without. You were such a sweet woman too, occasionally getting the guys coffee and snacks in between clients.
When Hongjoong’s tattoo shop was a mere dream, you encouraged him. You were actually the first person who didn’t laugh in his face. You’d been there for every step and whenever he felt like he’d fail, you’d be there in a flash to lift him up.
"Are you sure?" He asked, still on the fence. "You're not really good at making decisions."
"What are you even talking about?"
"Remember when you thought that office job was your dream?" He was trying his best to be smooth. He felt gross about the dirty thoughts that were coming up in his head.
"Remember when you wanted to be a poet?" You sassed back. "You even wrote me a poem."
"You don't need to remind me of Star 1117. I really did want to be a writer but I was more passionate about tattooing people." He rambled. Star 1117 held a special place in your heart mostly because he dedicated it to you. You could recite it word for word if he asked, not that he would. Hongjoong thought that was his worst poem.
"Hey, Star 1117 was, and still is, iconic."
____
Hongjoong tells you that you'll get the tattoo in a week so you can think of what you want to get. He was going to give you a few months, more than a few, but you insisted that you wanted to get it as soon as you could because you were so excited.
"I heard you're letting Hongjoong pop your cherry." Yeosang mused. He started working at the tattoo shop a year after you did, already having a few dainty tattoos scattered on his right arm. Now, he's covered in bigger, more elaborate, tattoos all over his body.
"I'm kind of hurt. I thought we were besties." He pouts at you as he leans over the counter in front of you. You roll your eyes but don't spare too much attention. You were trying to find space in Hongjoong's schedule. Your design, even though it took you the full week to come up with, was small so you knew it wouldn't take long but you knew Hongjoong. He'd probably take his time and make sure you were comfortable.
"No offense, but I wouldn't trust you to even draw with a sharpie on my skin."
"You do realize I work here too, right? I tattoo people daily like, that's what I get paid to do?" Yeosang's head tilted to the side as he sarcastically asked. You laughed to yourself.
"I do know that. I'm the one who fills up your schedule with clients. I just... I trust Hongjoong more." Which is true. While you did trust the men in the shop with your life, Hongjoong was on a different level for you. You wouldn't feel right if you had someone else tattoo you.
"No, I get it. I'm just teasing."
"Thank you."
"We all want our first time to be special." The man walked off before you could say anything, not like you could come up with anything in the first place.
____
"So, you're sure about this?" Hongjoong asked, his hand gripping the tattoo machine tightly.
"For crying out loud, Hongjoong, I will literally go to a different shop." Actually, you wouldn't. Plus, no other shop was going to give you the tattoo for free.
"Alright, fine." He didn't want to admit he was nervous but he was. He could feel the sweat in his pits. "But don't blame me when you regret it. Now, let me see the design."
You feel a rush a giddiness take over as you giggle like a child and take out the folded piece of paper from your back pocket. Hongjoong takes the paper and his eyes go wide.
"No way. No. I'm not tattooing this." He pushes the paper back to you and you whine.
"It's my tattoo, on my body. Please?"
"You want me to tattoo lines from a poem I wrote four years ago?" You knew he wouldn't like the idea at first but you thought he would just roll his eyes before silently tattooing you.
"I gave you the paper, didn't I?" You roll your eyes, "Come on! I love this part." You point it out for him and he sighs to himself, visibly struggling to wrap his head around the idea.
“…Fine.” You shriek with excitement and clap. “Just shut up and tell me where you want it.” You point to the inner part of your upper left arm.
Maybe it was because this was your first time or the location of the tattoo but it was way worse than you thought it’d be. Your eyes were screwed shut underneath your right arm which you had wrapped around your head in response to the pain. You tried to calm yourself down with breathing but they came out like whimpers.
It was torture for Hongjoong. As much as he wanted to hear all the noises you were making, it was getting difficult to tattoo you. He wanted so badly to be on top of you, to be doing not so holy things to elicit this same response.
He doesn't know how he did it but he finished the tattoo and heaved a heavy breath.
"It looks great." Hongjoong compliments. "You did really... well."
"I was crying like a baby." He laughs at this and stands in between your legs in front of you. You sit up and let him wrap up the new tattoo, all the while watching it get wrapped in cellophane. It looked so pretty.
"You were really loud but you did so well for me, babygirl." His hand reached to caress your cheek and you felt yourself gulp. Kiss me. Kiss me. KISS ME.
"Did I?" You ask, playing into his playful tone. "I should be rewarded then, right?" You hook your pointer fingers into his belt loops and pull him closer, feeling his warm breath fan your face.
His eyebrow quirks as he looks down at you. Your silent prayers seem to be answered when his lips finally collide with yours. It's messy and hot, teeth hitting each other as all the built-up tension takes over your bodies. Hongjoong's hands are all over you, touching you everywhere his hands can reach while your hands are too busy messing up his hair.
Your hands find the hem of his shirt and pull it off of him and yours follows suit with your bra. You pull away just far enough to take him in. You knew he was fit but damn, you could stare at him all day. You rake your hands over his abs softly and relish how they contract under your touch.
His tattoos were no joke, either. You never knew he had so many on his upper body. There was a huge dragon that started on the left side of his ribcage and disappeared as it wrapped around his back, its tail resting on his right shoulder. You never noticed his collarbone tattoo which read 'eight makes one team'
Hongjoong snatches your hand and breaks you out of your haze, your worried eyes snapping up to see if you had done something wrong.
"I'm gonna reward you now, beautiful." He said, kissing your palm softly before letting it go. He helps you out of your shorts, tossing them to some corner of the room and getting on his knees. The new cool air hits your skin, helping you sober up slightly from the intoxicating moment. You're just about to feel nervous when you feel that first small lick to your clit.
Your head falls back, eyes rolling. Your hands immediately find Hongjoong's head, pushing him further into you. He feels pride take over at the way you react, your moans egging him on as he lets himself go. His arms wrap around your thighs, locking them onto his shoulders as he dives in, lapping up every bit of your arousal and making sure you're legs stay open.
"Oh, fuck!" You cry, pulling his hair.
"You're so wet, baby." He replies, pulling away so he can drag a single finger along your lower lips, occasionally circling your hole just to drag his finger back up. "… so pretty."
"Hongjoong, please..."
"Please what? I'm not a mind-reader." His finger stops right at your hole again and your back arches with anticipation. But he doesn't enter you, he stops completely.
You look down at him and the sight alone makes you need him even more than before. His chin is still wet from your juices, his eyes dark and dilated with want. He looks so good between your thighs and the thought of him eating you out all night has you clenching on nothing.
He chuckles lowly, "Did you need something from me?"
"Please touch me."
"Where?" He taunts, standing up and putting his hands on your chest, playing with your nipples until they get hard. "Here?"
You shake your head no.
He hums as he plays dumb, his hands tracing the curves of your body, "Maybe you want me to just hold you here?" His hands resting on your hips.
"Baby, please, I need your fingers inside me." You rush out.
"Ah, that was going to be my next guess." His two fingers finally enter you slowly and your head falls back again. His thumb rubs circles into your clit and your hands are gripping the sides of the chair.
"Joong, I'm- I'm gonna-" You stutter, your mind slowly slipping away.
"I know, baby. Go ahead whenever you're ready." He encourages, his fingers continuing to bring you to your high. His voice sounded like pure aphrodisiac to you. How could you refuse? You came in an instant, painting Hongjoong's fingers with your juices.
"I gotta be in you, right now. I feel like I'm going crazy." His hands fiddled with the buckle, his excitement clouding his mind and making him struggle. Maybe this was a mistake but you guys were flowing so well. You had to feel the same way, right? He had to know before you continued.
"Tell me how you want it." Hongjoong huffed. He was above you now, his dick rubbing between your wet folds. It was driving you crazy; you just wanted him to fuck you but the words weren't coming out. He pulls away slightly, his eyebrows knitting together and eyes pleading. "No, look at me and tell me you want this... want me."
The vibe was suddenly very serious. You almost forgot why you were in this position. You didn't even have to think though. You knew what he meant even though he didn't explain himself. You did want him. You've wanted him since you met him.
You look into his eyes and cup his face. You give him a small smile. "I've wanted you, in every possible way ever since I laid eyes on you."
You can feel him relax as he sighs, "Thank god... I'm definitely gonna fuck you now."
You mutter out a please and Hongjoong's entering you without another beat. His dick is big, bigger than in your wet dreams. He bites his lip, forcing himself to take it slow despite really not wanting to. The look on your face is what keeps him strong though. He hated knowing you were in pain even if would only last a second.
Even when he was all the way inside, he waited until you were fully adjusted. You looked into his eyes and gave him a reassuring nod. His hips moved slowly as he gripped your waist like he wouldn’t ever let go. You knew you’d have bruises and the thought of this moment having physical proof on your body was making you more excited.
"Move, please, faster" You look up at him and move your hands to rest on his shoulders, trying to speak through the cloudiness of pleasure. Hongjoong wanted to imprint the look you were giving him into his brain. It was better than anything his wildest fantasies could come up with. But he obliged before you completely lost your patience. You both had been waiting too long.
He moved quick just like you asked, burying his head in your neck and occasionally leaving soft kisses. His hips were pistoning into you just right.
"Oh, fuck, baby. You're so fucking tight." His hands moved from your hips to the back of your legs, pushing them up so you were bent in half on the chair. Your hands instantly grabbed the sides of the chair, trying to keep yourself from flying off from the strong thrusts.
Hongjoong felt so good inside of you. He was filling you just right and you wanted to watch so bad but your eyes wouldn't stop rolling. You were reaching your limit but you didn't want it to stop. It was too good.
Hongjoong was fighting his own battle. You felt like a glove, warm and tight. You looked so beautiful under him. It all felt like a dream to him. He wasn't going to last long.
"Hongjoong!" You cried, feeling the knot in your stomach about to burst, "Please,"
"I know. I got you. I'm almost there" He replied back between moans. He shoved his head between your breasts, planting hickies along your chest. You didn't think it was possible but his thrusts were becoming faster and harder.
Your orgasm hit you in a flash. It caught you by surprise but Hongjoong was right there with you. He let you ride out your high before pulling himself out with a grunt and releasing on your stomach.
He let out a heavy sigh of satisfaction and put his hands on the side of the chair, shifting his weight on his arms so he could rest while standing.
"That was..." He started, taking deep breaths.
Post nut clarity started to hit you as you closed your eyes, trying your hardest to calm down from the high.
"Did you hate it?" You asked, your eyes practically glued shut so you wouldn't have to see the look of disapproval if he really did hate it.
Instead, he laughed... really loud. The sound surprised you enough to make you look at him. "Did I like it?" His tone was sarcastic. "Y/N, I have wanted this since we saw each other."
You felt your face warm up at this. "Me too."
"I know." Hongjoong said, feeling cocky. "You said something like 'I've wanted you since the first time I saw you! Muah, muah, muah." His tone was high-pitched in an awful attempt to mimic you.
"Hey!" You sat up and pushed him lightly. "I don't sound like that."
He just smiled warmly at you before kissing your lips and getting you a few napkins to clean up. After you wiped all the sex off your body, you got up and looked in the mirror, holding your arm out in a way to look at your new tattoo.
It's exactly the way you wanted it, in his handwriting and everything. You smiled to yourself.
"Do you like it?" Hongjoong asked, coming up from behind and wrapping an arm around your waist. Your head nods fast like a child who's just been asked if they want ice cream.
"It means everything to me."
____
"You look different." Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at you.
"I got a new tattoo!" You beamed, extending your arm so he could see.
"No, no, this is different."
"You're crazy."
"No he's right... There's something about you." Jongho joined in, narrowing his eyes too and shaking his finger at you.
"Hongjoong gave her head!" Wooyoung screamed from his station. You gasped, your head whipping in his direction.
"Woo!" You cried.
"Dicked her down too!" Hongjoong screamed back from his office.
"Hong!"
"Yeah, you thought you were the only two in the store but you weren't! But don't worry, I left and locked the door the moment I heard." Wooyoung explained, walking over to your desk.
"What's the tattoo say?" Jongho asked, grabbing your wrist and coming closer.
Thinking of you. That’s the greatest happiness for me.
#ateez#ateez smut#kim hongjoong#hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong smut#kim hongjoong imagine#choi san#jung wooyoung#park seonghwa#choi jongho#kang yeosang#song mingi#jung yunho
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