#and the entirety of the next day would be spent on the phone
Text
'i wish you'd just care about me' arranged marriage skz.
pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, and hyunjin.
w: blood, violence in changbin's
pt 2 is ⇀ here
𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴
it wasn’t the best of circumstances. no. the day you were bathed in white, promised to a man, and walked down the aisle by your father to be given to the hands of your husband was one you spent in mourning, swallowed by grief. “i bet you’re so excited, yeah?” the makeup artist asked, brushing a pearly shade of pinkish red onto your lips. she had a soft genuine smile as she asked, surfacing you into reality from the fogginess in your head. you nod, once, “yes, i am.” you lie in an attempt to make conversation easy. most of the guests that day knew of the arrangement, but other’s hadn’t a clue - which made appearances dire to keep up with. part of you was pleased to move onto a new chapter in your life if it meant moving on from life with your parents. but the other part reminded you that you were going into a new marriage completely blind to the man you’d call your husband. you met him one singular time before changing your last name, the entirety of it was spent with your parents talking to his own - glances you cast in his direction, if only to study the face of the man you hoped to love one day.
his jaw was set coldly, eyes focused on the conversation shared between your parents. he was handsome but just stone. was anything there? you would wonder. is there a man beneath that face? the bone beneath his skin rippled in tender structure, ears pierced, nose rounded, and a heart-like shape to his mouth. while there was no longer hope to hold out for, you scrounged up a bit more in the depths of your chest in desire to love him one day. truly love him. and to be loved in return.
two months into your marriage and you still feel the brick wall dividing you from your husband. it wasn’t exhausting all the time, no. you saw him smile; a few times actually. sometimes you think of it when going to sleep. you hadn’t heard him truly laugh, but you still maintained that same hope from the first time you ever saw him that one day you’d be the reason for him to. your new routine as husband and wife took a minute to settle into; with chan slowly rising to ranks of his family’s company and your own growth in the business of your own. your days were spent at home in your office working from home, a lot of calls into business meetings that you kept your mic muted for, and phone calls to overseas clientele for holiday season.
chan would wake in the morning and rise from your shared bed quick to get ready for work, leaving you to fix coffee and shrug on a robe in the cold of your home (winters weren’t kind in the mornings) when he’d leave, you’d have a cup ready for him, cream and a sugar cube. “thank you, have a good day.” he’d wish, already halfway out the door with a small tired smile on his face. “you’re welcome, you too,” you’d say, scrolling through your phone as the door would shut.
he’d take little notice to your attempts at growing your relationship, and you hadn’t had the time to bring it up to him yet that you wanted to try to have a wonderful marriage. you’d step into the living room wearing a new dress for a banquet for the company, smile a bit wider and brighter than usual - he’d look up from the couch, phone still in hand and would give you a thin lipped smile. “you look nice.” you’d rent a movie, one he’d said he’d wanted to watch soon, and welcome him home with drinks by the couch and he’d brush it off, “ah, sorry. i have a company thing tonight. tomorrow maybe?” of course, he’d forget the next day anyway so it would all be for nothing. when he’d come home extra late and you’d be in bed, buddled in pjs in the comforter with a book and the lamp on next to you, you’d muster your best smile and set your book down. “hey, how was work?” he’d sigh, pulling the tie from his neck. “nothing new really.”
and then you’d beg yourself, beg yourself, to just answer the question of why were you in love with him?
maybe it was for all the times you’d get to see him smile, the chuckles as you’d watch a movie, the thank you’s for cooking, and everything in between. maybe you loved him for the way he stumbled into the kitchen almost late for work, his hair a bit messy and his tie disoriented and you stopped him - “wait,” you put a hand up, walking up to him to fix his tie. it was the closest you’d ever been to him besides the day you’d gotten married, you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “sorry, my hands are cold.” your voice still laced with sleep as you straightened his tie and flattened his hair. “i-it’s okay.” he assured, clearing his throat. “eat some on your way to work, coffee’s on the counter. have a good day, okay?” you push a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin into his hands, pointing to his coffee before turning back to the stove. “r-right. thank you, have a good day.”
that was pretty cute. you even for a moment thought there’d be hope for you, as his cheeks flushed pink when you started working on his tie. sitting at your desk in your office you’d smile at the thought before catching yourself and smacking your own cheeks.
but time was catching up with you, and the unbearable ache of loving him was almost too much for your heart to handle. you at least needed to know if he felt the same or if he ever could - but in the following days after your realization, you proved yourself right. there was no way. no way this could work out. a steady stream of emotion was constantly running through you; you couldn’t focus on work, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat - and you wondered if he even noticed. you were growing increasingly frustrated with chan, and every passing day of limited conversation, barely any eye contact, and virtually no response from chan was wearing you down. one second you were smitten, and the other you were pissed.
and it eventually all came to a halt.
the front door of your house shut loudly, louder than usual. and you had a sneaking suspicion chan hadn’t the best day at work. well. that was a shame - you were still pissed, and to think he had the audacity to come home angry from work when he could barely prove to be a communicative partner was enough to leave your blood boiling. you’d let him have it if given the chance.
“how was work.” it wasn’t so much a question as much as a routine statement. you sat on the couch, shuffling through your movies to find the one he’d been wanting to watch, which upon realization, you didn’t know why you did that when you were pissed at him.
“fine.” he stomps into your shared bedroom, yanking the tie from his throat as he did so. you roll your eyes and keep shuffling with a much heavier hand this time. when he re-emerges from the bedroom, he’s shed his tie but still has on his button-down and suit jacket on, you furrow your brows and sit up from the couch.
“what’s wrong? what happened?” you ask out of the goodness of your heart. he tosses open the fridge, sighing. “nothing. nothing happened.”
“you wanna watch that movie you said you wanted to see?” he runs his hands over his face, closing the fridge door. he looks for a moment as if he’s thinking, his hands on his hips as he swallows. “no. not tonight.” he finishes, beginning to walk out of the kitchen before you stand.
“i really really wish you just cared for me.”
it was quiet, quiet, when you said it. the words left your lips before you could realize that your vision was getting a bit glossy. he freezes in his tracks, whipping his vision towards you at the sound of your voice. there wasn’t venom to your words like you expected there would be, no. just defeat. chan hears it, he hears it in you and all of his frustration, his anger, his annoyance, just melts away. instead, his chest is swallowed with guilt.
“i try,, i try so hard to make this work, chris. i really do.” you wipe your face even though tears haven’t fallen yet, and he thinks it’s to stop them from ever doing so, at least in front of him, and his chest aches. he’s turned to face you now, just six feet away or so, and his brow softens at the sight of you.
“i cook for you and make you coffee every morning and try renting your favorite movie because you said you wanted to watch it and wear pretty things out to work events and when i go out with friends but,, you don’t,,,” you look at him when you speak, he sees that water building in your eyes and takes a step closer to you, almost wanting to reach out but stopping himself before he’s to do so. your head shakes, you sniff one more time.
“because that’s what married people do.” this time he does walk closer, you don’t move, but you don’t look him in the eye either - it seems much to hard to do when you’re on the brink of crying.
“i promised myself,,” you lift a clenched fist to his chest, tapping him once with it, your lips screwing together in frustration though your voice is still soft and tearful. “that as your wife i’d love you one day.” your hand drops from his chest, you wipe your eyes when a single tear spills over your waterline, ducking your head to do so out of his line of sight. “is it too much to ask the same from my husband.”
it’s quiet for a minute, in one way he knows everything to say. every sweet word to soothe over your aching heart, because that’s what he’s suppose to do as your husband, and there’s another part of him that has no clue what to say.
because what kind of husband is he to leave you feeling as empty as this.
“i told myself on our wedding day that,, i never wanted to be the one to make you cry.” his palms come to cup your cheeks, though his large hands end up swallowing some of your jawline and neck as well. your eyes widen a bit at the feeling, “look at me?” he asks, voice quiet. you do so with guidance from his own hands. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.” even he has some water building on his waterline, you notice. you frown, feeling his thumbs dry your under eyes.
“i never wanted to make you feel uncared for or unheard. i appreciate everything you do for me. and i’m sorry i’ve made you question if i care for you.” he wipes his thumbs under your eyes once more before his hands lower a bit. “you’re my wife. i care about you so much. and i’ll show you that, i promise.”
you talk for a little longer, but disregard the movie for the night, instead, you settle on curling up beside chris who wraps an arm around you, his cheeks a bit pink as you adjust yourself in his hold. he feels the burn of your own cheeks against his arm. “is this okay?” he asks, his opposite hand settling on your hip. you smile, “of course. i’m your wife, you can touch me. can i touch you?” he hums, scooting closer, giving you the okay to lay your arm across his midsection. you close your eyes for a moment, if only to enjoy the feeling of holding your husband for the first time. the warmth that always seems to naturally radiate off of him, the closeness of his breath, the feeling of being the only woman who gets to see him like this.
“i didn’t know you were so cuddly, mr. bang.” you smile to yourself, his hand stroking soft over your hip. “only when given the chance, mrs. bang.” he replies. “ooh,, too smooth.” you admire.
when silence encircles the both of you, and you feel sleepiness begin to creep up on you, he speaks again, “did you mean it when you said you’d learn to love me one day?” his voice is quiet, so tender - it licks at the wounds of your heart and seals them shut. your heart pounds behind your ribcage and you breathe deep to settle the rage of affection steadily brewing in you. “of course.” you reply, your face beginning to bury in his neck.
“well, that’s a shame.” you furrow your brows, opening your eyes to look up at him. before you can reply he speaks again. “because i love you now.”
𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴
“the summer berries on the bushels in the forest are getting ripe now, i brought you some.” you lift your basket, both hands wrapped around it’s weak woven handle, showcasing your proud supply of freshly picked goods. you set the basket down a moment later, your husband batting a quick eye to the basket before he looks back to his spread of books a second later. “mm.” is his only reply.
lee minho was the protector and guide of the largest castle in the northern part of your land. he was a renowned alchemist and practitioner of magic, known for being aid to a handful of people in the village you were raised in, and most notably - a fierce god of night. a vampire.
it was true the stories of bloodlust and killings that tainted centuries of vampire lore; but lee minho set out to do something different. he hadn’t a care of the human experience, which he shared with that of his ancestors, but he had no need to kill them either. animal blood tasted just as delicious as a human’s. and when befriending a human, their loyalty was like no other. so he didn’t kill them, no, he made pacts and promises, and if anything used them more like pawns but they’d die soon before he did.
and then there was you. his wife. promised to his hand by your family - a pact of sorts, one of which you both hadn’t necessarily agreed to if it wasn’t for both of your families stepping in to further push along the marriage. in a quiet candlelight scenery you were married to your now husband, and your seal of a kiss was shared. which, honestly, you didn’t regret. he was very handsome - and kissing handsome men was always a joyous occasion (well, mostly anyway)
he was rageful. not at you, maybe more to existence itself. he was never angry towards you, he never showed it, but you could see deep within the brown wash of his eyes that he was indeed an angry man. he had a hate you’d only seen a few times, and every time you looked a little too hard you felt yourself look away - to anywhere else in the room. afraid of what it meant, afraid of his own distaste.
“you’re wearing the dress.” he notes. his vision still wondering over the pages in his book. your slightly fallen expression gleams a little at his comment. “yes, of course. you bought it for me.” your hands smooth over your torso, he still doesn’t look up. your lips twist at the sight of your husband’s disinterest, but you turn to wash the berries and leave the room.
most of your marriage to minho felt like a huge disinterest on his side. he’d lived many years, this much was true. but in your short time to live, you longed for a husband who loved you; and part of you thought minho was largely incapable of this. he never showed it. he never showed anything for that matter; he was always so far away. life not only was nonexistent to him as a man, but in his very eyes. he showed not a shred of emotion, and even in your good memories with him, he showed very little. part of you blamed it on his years of living, but yet the other part of you reminded you it was all the more reason to care. every day felt like a slow drag, you weren’t really living, not really. survival maybe. but being bound to this castle with a man who rarely payed you mind left an ache worse than death. were you not to his standards? maybe that was it.
you’d shed too many tears over the situation, now every time you cry you try to pull yourself together in the face of your grief. upon talking to your family, a few members reminded you that your voice was powerful, and you should very much share your opinions to him on the matter if your marriage was to work - but that was the thing. a few months in with the man you were to learn to love, and you felt even now it was helpless. it was a sting that brought you to your knees, god how you wanted to just tell him. tell him you loved him - and hear it from his own mouth.
upon your ravage of feelings and your family’s request, you resorted to writing a letter to your husband. you surely wouldn’t have the guts to face this powerful man in person, not like this. so you took to beginning your note in scribbles in the isolated space of your bedroom.
your lips twitch in thought as you think over the contents of your letter, your hand stilling still quipped with a quill. you’re swallowed with silence in the stillness of your bedroom, word after word is brought to the front of your brain. there’s a number of things you could say, but not enough words in the world to describe how you felt.
“lee minho, i’m unhappy.” you speak aloud as you write, taking a moment to look back at your writing, quickly scribbling the line out before starting again.
“dear husband, i have a few things to bring to your attention.” you nod along as you write, happier with this line.
“i believe if we’re to work as husband and wife, we should talk more.”
“i try time and time again to gain your attention, to bring you happiness in a way i know how.”
“but,, it seems to never be enough.”
“if you don’t want me,” you pause, your fingers fumble with the quill in your hand as your palms begin to warm against the hardwood. your lips twitch again.
against all things in your brain reminding you a married couple should speak of their issues and this was a must in your relationship if either of you wish to continue - an overwhelming feeling of pure grief washes over you and your hand as you still to keep from writing.
every bright moment in your relationship flashes before your eyes like matches starting a fire. it’s so overwhelming that your voice dies, and a tight tug at the back of your throat halts you to a shred of reality you hadn’t dwelled on. you sit further back in your chair, eyes glossing over into thought - lost entirely to the contents of your brain. realization has hit you like a truck in the face of your confrontation.
because what about all of the wonderful times you’ve spent together.
what about the dancing of your wedding day, the golden burn of his watchful gaze, the presents, the meals shared, the wishes of good morning or good night? what about all of the times that kept you so closely tethered to him? what about the times that kept you in love with the man who barely spoke to you.
you take a breath - and as quiet as it would be, it’s blaringly loud in the silence of your bedroom.
“i want to love you. i do. and,, i think i do.” clarity has left your quill, and instead, you write from your heart. what you truly feel.
“i hate that you don’t notice when i try to do kind things for you.”
“i want to work in matrimony of us.”
“i know our marriage is against our wishes, but i want to make it work.”
“i just.. i just wish you cared about me.”
a hand sharply grabs your chin, pulling your gaze to meet that of your husband's golden gaze.
“not care?” he asks, his face screwed into a sort of confused expression. “not care?” he asks again as his expression contorts again, further - until his hand is tender.
you’re so sharply pulled from your own head that you’re left with whiplash. he’s heard you? where was he? did you leave the door open? your eyes are blown wide as you face him in the realization he’s heard everything.
your mouth dries as you look at him, his gaze cuts into your very being and you feel utterly frozen. “no-! i didn’t mean it-” “you do though. i’ve made you feel this way.” his gentle grip on your chin leaves you, and he shuffles away, sitting firmly on your bed. his gaze seems lost, as if he couldn’t keep up with the words you’d admitted.
“minho..” “i do care.” he cuts in. you swallow, your brows melding together as you do so. “i don’t… want you to feel this way. and i’m sorry for doing so.”
in the face of confrontation he seems genuinely distressed, not that any part of you doubted it - but it was comforting to hear the words leaving his mouth.
“if we’re to be married, i want you happy. comfortable. i don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” he explains.
“i just,, i want to work this out. i want us to talk more; tell me what makes you happy and what hurts you.” you reassure, holding onto the back of your chair as minho’s head hangs low. “i’m your wife, i want to hear all of that.” a small smile stretches across your mouth; it’s lopsided and a bit sad, but it’s there nonetheless, and the sound of your voice lets minho’s head rise as he meets your gaze once more.
he sees in you the beauty he sees across the room even as you just sit a few feet away from him. it’s overwhelming, suffocating; and part of him hates it a little bit for suffocating his heart in one swift swallow. you’re all encompassing and human - he’s learned self-control few could achieve, and yet even a few months into a marriage he didn’t agree to and he’s smitten. he wants to reach deep inside his chest and pull his heart out by it’s tethers, and apart of him wants to feel your love to the highest degree he could if just to be surrounded in heaven once more.
“were you lying then?” he pauses, hands wrung together. “when you said you loved me?” a small quirk in the corner of his mouth leaves your face and chest hot.
“i wasn’t lying.”
minho’s made home on your bed, lulled to his side as his pretty eyes wash over your face. you aren’t connected, in fact, you’re a little afraid to touch him - regardless of this fact, your wrist lifts to reach nimble fingers to his face, but you pause, your soft fingers retracting into your palm.
“touch me.” he needs. his hand cupping your own to bring to his face tenderly.
your face is flushed with a dusty pink, the feeling of his face beneath your touch lights the nerve endings in your palm alight. your brow quirks in thought, but not for a moment do you part with his sun-washed eyes.
“how did you become a vampire?” you ask quietly, your thumb strokes the soft skin beneath his eye, his hand stroking the back of your own.
“i was born into it. my family comes from a long blood-line of vampires.” you hum in response, taking a moment to study the wash of sun-like gold that overtakes your husband’s eyes. fractals of evening sun beam through the curtains in your bedroom, creating a soft sleepy haze in your room. dust is seen floating in the room in the portions of sun that reach into the room.
“you’re beautiful.” he beats you to it, realizing he too has been looking at you the entire time. you retract your hand nervously, a smile stretching across your face in sweet embarrassment. “thank you.”
“do you want to be one one day? or do you value your life?” he’s half joking, a floppy smirk on his lips as he sighs a laugh. you hum once more, looking to his mouth to see the slight glimpse of fangs visible to you.
“maybe. if it meant i got to spend more time with you, than yes.”
minho’s smirk widens, his eyes washing from your face to the curve of your jaw, to the drop of your neck. his mouth parts, his hand coming to the curve of your ribcage over your waist, his warm hand freezes you in place. he lowers his lips to the column of your neck, a lowly drunken gaze filtering over his face. “that could be arranged.” his breath meets the tender flesh of your neck before he presses your waist closer to your body, his soft lips meeting your neck in a single kiss.
𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴
“be careful on the job today.” you crane your neck out of the doorway of the kitchen to look at your husband as he tightens a holster around his thigh. he looks up for a moment, face momentarily stricken with something similar to surprise at your well wishes. he looks down a moment later, checks the clip of his pistol, and then shoves it into the holster. “i will. i’ll be back tonight.” the door closes sharply behind him and you’re left in the silence of your home yet again.
there’s a pool of melted ice on top of your coffee, you take a sip anyway, the palm of your hand now wet from the sweat off the glass. in truth, you were trying. very sternly trying to make your marriage work. but with circumstances of said marriage coupled with the dangerous reality of your lifestyles, it felt like your assumed fate was dwindling before your eyes - a thin bow ready to snap under pressure.
being born into crime wasn’t all good fellas or the godfather all the time - no. it was nasty business, some of which you came to regret but again this was the only life either of you knew, leaving the business would be impossible without a gun to your head. you persevered in the face of guilt anyway, not knowing fully how your husband felt about the situation. the sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your head for a moment, leaving you rolling your eyes at the sight of your mother’s name across the vibrating screen.
“yes?’’ your coffee tastes bitter now, too much water - you pour the contents into the sink as she begins talking.
“hey hun, there’s a job tomorrow that’s opened up. one of the boys got canned, we’ll pay his bail through an anonymous source but we have to wait a few days so the cops don’t catch on. you in?” your fingers tug a coffee filter out of it’s wooden box, stuffing it into the machine as you press a button on your grinder.
“mom,” your hand comes to your eyes, rubbing them tiredly. “i told you i was out of the dirty work. i’m doing that shit anymore. and i’m severely out of practice of doing anything hefty.” you explain, the grinder stops, you pour the grounds into the coffee machine. she sighs on the other end, her voice coming through more heated now - pressure started weighing on your shoulders. she says your name with a deadly tone, it leaves you feeling as though there’s a cold metal rod stiff in your back.
“why don’t you ever look out for this family? you think you can just leave and do the bare minimum when your father and i have slaved over making a good childhood for you?” and then you’d argue back and forth until you felt like ripping your hair out and you’d finally cave and you mom would end the call sharply and once again leave you in the silence of your home that was beginning to feel more like a prison.
when you heard the beep that ended the call, you tossed your phone to the couch and let your mind wander yet again - what else was there to do in your seemingly failing marriage and rocky relationship with your parents? you hadn’t many friends unless they were in the business, and that only counted for a few really close ones. you track around your kitchen with your fingers pushed into your hairline, and your mind wanders back to something she’d said on the phone a few weeks ago.
“we found you your husband, is that not good enough for you?”
you hadn’t even the energy to put up with audacity of that claim. so you ended the call and showered, but it still ate at you greatly - because no. no it wasn’t enough. changbin, as dedicated to the lifestyle as he was, and you respected him for his commitment, was terrible at showing you what he truly felt. most conversations were barely that, mostly exchanges if anything - and the few good times you’ve had together were truly the only thing keeping you around if it wasn’t for the godforsaken hope you managed to hold onto.
you saw the good in him - the good he was capable of, and every time you’d suffocate yourself in thought about being three months in and still not working together as a married couple should, you reminded yourself of this fact. it’s what kept you in, what drew you closer to him. because what could you both be? it’s already bad enough you have feelings for the guy and he clearly didn’t feel the same way.
“fuck,, what am i gonna do.” to clear your head you showered again, tying back your wet hair and slumming around the house until changbin arrived back home when you’d be drifting off to sleep. at least you had an opportunity to clean; and when the house was clean, you felt a bit better. you were correct about changbin returning late - you heard a long sigh as he entered your bedroom, the plop of a duffel bag could be heard. when you look at the time on your phone you see it’s just past three in the morning.
“how’d it go?” you ask tiredly from the bed, the bathroom light flickers on and he raises his head a bit. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you.”
“it’s okay. you okay?”
“yeah. yeah, everything went fine. what’d you do today?” you see the rings of exhaustion circling his eyes as he strips off his shirt and hides the smallest of winces.
you sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes as the sink begins to run. “i talked to my mom on the phone. doing a job tomorrow night. cleaned the house though.”
“what kind of job?” he asks as he starts the shower. you talk a bit louder so he can hear you over the sound of the spray. oh he wasn’t going to like the sound of this - these kinds of jobs were everyone’s least favorite in the business.
“there’s a warehouse on fifth, when you’re leaving the downtown area. apparently some guys are trafficking there. gotta take them out.”
“shit.. be careful. small time guys have been trying to make names of themselves.”
“i know, i will be.”
careful you were, but careful was not enough. those guys holed up in that warehouse with every corner covered, not only that, but with automatic weapons with full mags, dressed in black to blend with the shadows. the job was done, the victims released into promised care and with you aid in the following days, be returned to their families or brought to homes, but not without some wounds of your own. the guys dropped you off at the back of your house, granted it was past midnight but you couldn’t be too careful. your home was secluded - but what the law knew was unbeknownst to the organization in regards to this mission in particular.
you left your weapons in the van with the promise of getting them back the next day. “c-clean the blood off it for me, would you?” you grinned, shuffling from the van with your arm slung over your partner. you lean nearly fully into his weight as he aids you in finding your back door. you bang on the big sliding window before unlocking it, letting changbin know you were home.
“we gotta get the fuck outta here. you be careful yeah? call me tomorrow morning.” the driver calls before peeling away from your home. you nod, using the wall to stumble inside your house as the living room is suddenly flooded with light, and your husband walks out of your bedroom with his phone in hand and his brows furrowed.
“changbin,,” you push the door closed, leaving bloody handprints everywhere you touched.
“fuck- okay, okay, okay- it’s alright. come here.” his outstretched hands come to wrap your arm around his shoulders and stabilize on your waist as he helps you walk to your bathroom.
hot spots of pain blossom on your waist, ribs, and leg. it’s throbbing, all encompassing, and leaves your eyes watering when changbin’s palm presses a little harshly into your side. throughout the house your gasps and groans of pain are heard, changbin is working as diligently and carefully as he can to help you to the bathroom, only imagining how much you must be hurting.
“okay, okay- i’m gonna lay you on the floor okay?” he helps you rest along the floor after he’s put some towels down, and kneels by your side before grabbing the extensive first aid kit you kept in your bathroom. you nod, closing your eyes to focus on breathing, but every breath in hurts, and every exhale throbs your wounds.
“where are you hit?” he asks, you now notice his hands are tainted with your blood in just a few splotches. he rummages through the kit, reaching for the hem of your shirt as he cuts through your gear and clothing. “m-my sides, and,, one in my left leg.”
“alright. it’s gonna be okay - let’s get you sewn up. what happened?” he asks as a way of distracting you from how bad this was about to hurt. he pours some alcohol in his hands before barring your torso to his eyes, now seeing the festering wounds.
“t-they-” you laugh because it’s hurting so bad and your eyes are getting glossy as adrenaline leaves your body. “they had automatics… every one of them was geared the fuck up. and not only that but there must’ve been twenty,, twenty five of them and five of us.”
changbin’s head slowly shakes in disappointment that you were set up that badly for failure, his haw is tight - but he remains focused on the task at hand, cleaning you up. he lifts you up with one arm and helps you shred your arms of your sleeves completely, focusing now on the wound near your ribs. “why’d they send you in with only five people? did they want you to die? fuck.”
“seems like it.” you chuckle, his hand stabilizes before he reaches into your wound with medical pliers to grab the bullet still embedded in you. your grip tightens on the towels beneath you, eyes now swimming with tears as you groan at the feeling of the tug of the pliers.
“i know, i know. you’re doing good though, talk about something. tell me about the job or- your favorite music or something.” his hands dip into a bowl of water, returning to your wound to clean you from blood and put some pressure on the wound.
“the job was shit, but,, the guys are gone. all the victims are safe and i’ll work on paper work to get them home tomorrow.” he hums, nodding. he puts a bit of topical numbing around the wound before grabbing sutures to close the open wound. “as far as music,” you laugh to yourself again, your gaze focused on the ceiling. “you trying to get to know me? didn’t think you cared so much for that.”
his hands pause. then lower. he looks at you with a kind of genuinity you didn’t expect from the man you called your husband. “of course i care. you’re my wife.”
“you’re always so focused on the work, on your job. you’re gone a lot. i can tell you care about the organization i just,, i don’t know. i always hoped you’d care for us too.”
he frowns a bit, his gaze is focused back to his hands as he threads the string more diligently through the needle. he’s paused, he has a focused expression and you can tell when you look at him he’s thinking - part of you hopes you haven’t stumped him, or made him uncomfortable - maybe you did hold out too much hope.
“i do care about us. about you. i always figured since we were arranged to be married that you wouldn’t want much to do with me.” when he returns to working on your wound you wince, eyes closing tight. he apologizes quietly, but it’s over quicker than you expected.
“i want everything to do with you, silly. you’re my husband. i want this to work between us if we’re going to be married.” your eyes are still watery and the throbbing hasn’t subsided - you wonder if part of this is delusion since your filter has seemingly disappeared in the face of pain.
he smiles, softly. “i’m sorry that i’ve made you feel that way, and hey-” his hand reaches for yours, the one that bears the ring he gifted you on the day you were married. your eyes meet his as your head lulls to the side, you grasp onto his hand as if he’d stabilize you - and he does. “i do care about you. genuinely.”
you squeeze his hand, the wash of tears that drowned your eyes from pain spill finally. “i care about you too.”
“don’t cry, silly. i’m almost done, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
after changbin coaches you through treating your wounds, he runs you a quick bath and helps you wash the dirt and sweat from your hair. it felt strange to say you felt an overwhelming trust to him - but maybe that was just the energy he exuded. he helps you to bed, and quickly showers off himself before laying next to you.
his arm wraps around you, and the pain in your side has dulled from the medicine he made you take after closing up your wounds and cleaning them. your head rests on his chest comfortably. “you never answered my question about music.” he says suddenly.
“i’ll play you all my faves tomorrow morning when you cook me breakfast because i got shot.” you grin cheekily against him.
“deal.”
𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴
“i am to be his wife.” there was no expression in the gaze you cast your parents, hands folded neatly in front of you, ever obedient in the face of nobility. before your eyes, in the face of your youth your life of freedom ever awaiting your embrace is taken from you and shackled. your life is to be given to a man you didn’t know, and when shoved his own in your hands you feel the pulse of forgotten life in your palms. there was more to say other than you didn’t want this, there was more words you could sputter in anger at your parents, other screams and cries for this to not happen, yet you swallow, let your eyes gloss over, and prepare a wedding in the following year to a man you’d meet only once before promising forever to him.
across from you at the altar he stood jaw tight, eyes glassy yet lifeless. when the wedding guests settled and your father handed you off to the prince’s hands, you breathed deep in an attempt to conceal the building tears that sparkled in your eyes. officiant you didn’t know, in the sea of people commending your marriage you knew few faces, and he spoke vows because of remembrance not because of promise. when he lifted the veil from your eyes to look at you, he for a moment faltered and his lips flattened.
you kissed him because you had to. and you slept beside him that night because you had to.
in marriage, you always imagined that life would blossom with a spark of light. as a seal to two people’s testament of their love it would grow into something truly beautiful - it would drink in the sun, bathe in the rain, paint its colors on pages and tell its story on lips through decades. as a young girl, the idea of one day marrying someone that loved you was thrilling to say the least. it was pure; and good. and every notion, every dream, every promise to your life you’d made, was stripped from you in a single evening.
you’d rise from bed when the maids would wake you to dress. you’d be dressed beside your husband, wearing the rings that testified your union, and would watch over the kingdom that would be given to your hands one day.
there was no use in trying, not even from the start.
but you wanted to love him. oh you terribly wanted to love him.
beside him you’d sleep - watching the curvature of his heart shaped lips, the breathing his body exuded - existence. how you were his without him even knowing. only in this state could you see him, really see him. the sprawl of his hair on the pillow before it was to be tied back that morning upon your wake. beautiful he was. when his eyes fluttered open, he wet his lips and you heard him speak - for the first time it felt as though it was to you.
“i’m sorry.”
for the entire rest of the day you spent in a haze in your own head.
two months have gone by, and you were achingly in love with him. but you couldn’t say the same for him; his headspace was unknown. you shared a great castle together, a smaller one just outside the village as your parents lived inside the city walls in the palace, but home felt like a restraint on you. nothing was sacred.
when you spoke, it was matters of business and a shred of the time was talk of personal matters. the only truth you spoke to hyunjin was in the hours before he’d wake when sleep would leave you too early. you tuck your folded hands together under your pillow, your eyes washing over his face as he slept. upon your movement, he turned to his side, his broad shoulders creating lines of his body beneath his sleep shirt. part of you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around him and tell him you believed in the both of you, but your thoughts still to silence.
“i wish you cared for me, in the way i care for you.” you mumble quietly.
“but i cannot say it yet. you’re a shadow; yet you’re sorry. i’m so confused in my love for you.”
that’s when he turned over, his eyes open. the maids walk in a second later and your wide eyes glance to them. they pause in their steps, looking between the both of you. had he heard you? surely not. you push yourself onto your elbows as he speaks to the maids, his own hands planted firmly in the mattress.
“i can dress her.”
they quickly excuse themselves after, mumbling as they leave the room hurriedly. the room stills, you’re left in the wake of his words with confusion bubbling through your head and your face suddenly flushed. he stands without another word as they’ve left the room, moving to the closet to fetch your under clothes, corset, and gown for the day.
“hyunjin,” you speak softly.
“i care greatly for you. i do, but-”
you swallow, still sitting on the bed with your legs curled beneath the covers. “you cannot dress me.” you hold a hand to pause him in his movements as he approaches with your day clothes in hand. he swallows, “you’re my wife. i can dress you. if you’d let me.”
hwang hyunjin was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen, and this he knew as well - yet the cool confidence he usually carried on his shoulders, in his handshakes, and in his voice, had dissipated. he looked at you with darting eyes that searched your own for the answers he needed, his hands gripped your dress tight.
his hand stretches out to you, offerance of aid. you look to his palm, the gentle length of his fingers, and find his exuding energy welcoming - so you take his hand. it’s warm as your skin washes over his own, his hands were smooth and embracing, and you stand before him with a sharp intake of breath.
“i’ve made you feel this way,” he begins, beginning to untie the laces that hang from the neck of your night dress. there’s a great deal of nerve vibrating through your body at the prospect of him dressing you, but regardless you let him in the wake of his tenderness. and if it meant a moment you could share closer to him - you’d take it.
“you only speak your feelings to me when you think i’m asleep.” at that your breath stills, panic settles in quietly to your bones.
“i-i’m sorry i-” “you have no need to apologize, it’s me. i’ve made you feel this way. and i’m sorry.” when your dress is removed, he kneels at your feet to gather it before letting you step into your under dress. you rest your hand on his shoulder for balance to do so.
“in truth, i can’t tell you why i love you.” he says, his hands working to tie your second layer skirt around your waist, once it’s firm and not uncomfortable, you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes. “you cannot say such things to me and not mean it. you can’t.”
“i know i haven’t shown it, but it’s true, that i promise you.” with that, he gently guides your arms through the holes of your corset, and begins lacing it, leaving your eyes drowning in tears as your lips tremble.
“you-you haven’t shown it. how am i to know you love me or that i love you when we hardly have a relationship. you’re my husband, i want to love you as one.” you gasp as he pulls the strings to tighten it, his palm laying flat on your back as he tugs once more.
“it’s a promise i make now, to show you i do indeed love you. i want you to tell me when you’re hurting, i want to help, i want to grow with you.” his hands lay along your waist as your corset is tightened. when he rounds you, seeing your eyes fogged over, his heart pangs with guilt.
“i’m sorry, truly. that i have made you feel this way. but please, know my promise is true.” his hands come to gather yours in his grip.
you nod, wiping your face for a moment as you lift your gaze to look at him. “then i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. i want to work to make this kingdom a happy place for our people, we must work together in that regard.”
hyunjin listens, strokes his thumbs across the backs of your hands and you speak for a while longer on your marriage, how you’re both willing to work to make your love make sense, how you wish to be a unit in making the kingdom a place of happiness for your people. he prepares for the day, wearing an outfit the same shade of off-white as your own with his long dark hair tied back into a bun.
he offers his arm to you before you both leave your bedroom, smiling softly. “thank you for talking to me.” he says, opening the door for you. “thank you for listening and talking as well. it feels nice to have this weight lifted.”
“i agree.”
sorry if hyunjin's is written weird i was listening to cornfield chase by hans zimmer and got lost in the sauce.
#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x female reader#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#stray kids comfort#skz fluff#skz angst#skz comfort#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x female reader#lee know x reader#lee know x y/n#lee know x you#lee know x female reader#changbin x reader#changbin x y/n#changbin x you#changbin x female reader#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x y/n
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Ready to roll?
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 9
Prompt: No Upside Down AU
Rated: T
CW: one mention of masturbation bc Eddie is a horny little shit
Tags: Future fic; Flirting; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in rollerblades
Notes: Another collab with the amazingly talented and creative @house-of-the-moving-image - check out their art!
"What?" Eddie says eloquently, tearing his eyes from the laminated menu.
The waiter is hovering next to his booth, pen tapping against the notepad in his hand. He looks annoyed. Probably pissed at Eddie for interrupting his quiet night shift. Well, tough luck, pretty boy.
"I said …" the waiter pauses, heaves a brief but heartfelt sigh. "Are you ready to roll?"
Eddie blinks.
"Listen, dude!" The waiter says flatly, but there's a blush blossoming on his neck. "I'd ask if I may take your order, but I'm, like, contractually obfuscated to say … this instead. Goes with the theme, y’know?"
He gestures at the entirety of himself. The cheerfully colored shirt and tiny shorts. The little apron around his waist. The knee-high socks disappearing into a pair of chunky, red-and-white rollerblades, and … oh, right.
"Well?"
Eddie snaps his eyes back up and shit, for how long has he been staring at those legs like a creep?
The waiter is scowling at him. He really is pretty. Exactly Eddie’s type. Gold-flecked eyes, stupidly voluminous hair, pink lips twisted into a bitchy little scowl. Eddie imagines pushing him up against the wall on those stupid wheels of his, sucking and biting that scowl right off.
"Hm," he makes instead. "The guys at the label said I'd enjoy the cake, but I'm starting to think they weren't talking about the menu."
The scowl deepens.
"Cheeseburger and fries," Eddie says. "And a strawberry milkshake."
One elegant eyebrow arches.
"... Please?"
Waiter boy smirks at him, a brief flash of perfectly white teeth. Eddie wants to lick them.
"Coming right up." He jots the order down, shoves pen and notepad into his apron pocket. As he does, Eddie catches a glimpse of the name tag attached to his uniform shirt. (Which has nothing to do with him ogling the way the fabric stretches over that toned chest, because he wasn't doing that, thank you.)
It says "Hi, I'm Steve. :-)"
Wait, what?
The whirr of rollerblades on the floor tiles jerks him out of his stupor. He's glad he didn't take off his sunglasses, because holy fuck, he must be gawking like an idiot right now.
Because he knows a guy named Steve. Or knew.
A guy named Steve with perfect, caramel hair, tan skin littered in moles and an irritatingly pretty, aloof smile. Not that Eddie was ever at the receiving end of that smile. The closest Eddie ever got to him was back in eighty-six, when he was dealing drugs out of his van. In the driveway of that palace in Loch Nora, while the King and his court partied inside.
Eddie watches how waiter boy comes gliding out of the kitchen, wipes down tables and refills napkin holders.
It can't be.
Steve Harrington is back in the hellhole that is Hawkins, Indiana - or maybe at some college halfway across the country, preparing to take over daddy's business. He's most certainly not wearing rollerblades and a pair of stupidly short shorts, waiting tables in a cheap twenty-four hour diner in Seattle.
Then again, back in eighty-six, who would've thought that Eddie Munson would be owning his own record label one day?
When waiter boy arrives with his order and leans in to put it down on the table, Eddie peers over his sunglasses to cast an inconspicuous look at his profile.
There's a pair of moles on his neck, near identical in size, spaced apart like a perfect little vampire bite.
Well, slap his ass and call him Sally.
Eddie knows these moles, has spent entire nights jerking off to the thought of sinking his teeth into them.
"Staring costs extra," Steve mutters at the milkshake.
Before Eddie can say anything, the phone on the counter rings and Steve rolls over to answer it. Eddie chews on his too-salty fries and can't help the grin that tugs at his lips as he watches the boy twirl the cord around his fingers while taking the order.
The night just officially got interesting.
Steve looks over, catches him staring and gives him the flattest, most unimpressed look Eddie has ever seen on a person who just realized they were being checked out. The blush has reached his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Eddie winks and Steve rolls his eyes before he turns his back on him. Eddie doesn’t complain. That ass does look fantastic in the shorts.
He takes his time with the meal. The burger is nothing to write home about, but the view more than makes up for it.
When he is done, he saunters over to the counter, pulling out his wallet. Steve is busy counting mayonnaise packages and muttering under his breath. He blinks in confusion when Eddie slaps down a fifty, starts digging for change in his apron.
"Nah," Eddie says. "Just keep it."
Steve frowns at him. "That's way too much."
"Don't sell yourself short. I thought staring was extra?"
Steve opens his mouth. Hesitates. Closes it. Pockets the money.
"Thanks," he murmurs, eyes trained at some point behind Eddie's shoulder. "Roll by again."
Eddie just barely manages to turn the incoming snort into a grin.
"Sure will,” he mutters, leaning across the counter and into the boy’s space. “Maybe I'll try that cake next time."
"Oh, please," Steve huffs. "As if you could afford me, Munson."
Eddie feels his jaw drop. "Wait, you knew who-"
The doorbell chimes.
"Hi there!" Steve chirps at the guy in the door. "You called, right? I'll check if your order is ready."
And then he's gone and Eddie is staring at the still swinging kitchen door like an idiot.
It isn't until he's back out in the dark street that his confusion morphs into something else. His majesty wants to play coy? Well, Eddie can indulge him, can't he?
He makes his way home with a new spring in his step. Looks like he's found his new favorite dinner spot.
Part 2
All my holiday drabbles
#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#steddie holiday drabbles#steddieholidaydrabbles#hype's holiday drabbles
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Artistic desire [Husk x Shy!Reader] Fluff
A/N: This was a request sent by a lovely follower. I'm not particularly good at writing shy characters but I did my best. Hopefully this suits your taste.
Word count: 3.4k (3,481)
Warnings: none unless you count mentions of mommy and daddy issues
You were a bit of a social recluse. Your parents fucked off and died somewhere in one of the seven rings when you were a teenager and since everything is basically free, besides drugs and sex, you just stayed in your parents’ manor. The only person that really checked up on you everyday was Charlie. You crossed paths when you were younger, rode through the emo phase together and now you’re both older.
Before her hotel opened up, she was eager to tell you of all the plans. Every. Single. Plan. Of course, you didn’t mind the chatter through the phone. You enjoyed something that filled up the empty halls in your home. You helped her redesign a bit but after a while, you were in a pit of…the opposite of an art block?
You spent every waking moment, painting and creating art. If you thanked your demon parents for anything, it’d be the part where their powers passed onto you naturally. Your mother was a beautiful muse, perfection in keeping everything aesthetically pleasing. Your father painted his muse at every given moment. You didn’t necessarily hate them per-say but you sure as hell didn’t love them. The moment you kept something out of place, an inch off the center, your mother scrambled to fix it.
She didn’t yell or bother with correcting you, she would just obsess with the finer details. Your father never stepped up for anything other than painting. Hell forbid you switch up his paints and he’d be locked in his room all day. Finishing piece after piece.
You didn’t take after any of their obsessive traits. Instead you embraced the messy lines, the off-centered pieces. You embraced the imperfection and impurities that came with hell itself.
And that is exactly how you ended up in Charlie’s Hazbin Hotel. She convinced you to take your artistic abilities to brighten the place up. With the surprising help of Alastor, you chose compromise on the color palette. The fabrics, the decor, the lights, the curtains, the rugs. It was all your choosing. And when Alastor decided to phase in a bar with Husk included, the odd placement of green itched your brain in a good way.
The bar wasn’t the only thing that got you going. A surge of inspiration waved through your entire being the moment you saw him. The moment you heard his voice you wanted to capture it in art. There wasn’t a passing day where you didn’t sit at his bar, eagerly waiting for his next story.
At first, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you considering how well you got along with Alastor. But that opinion quickly faded the more you hung around him. Every time he’d tell a story, he noticed you always doodling in delight, listening to every detail. You didn’t participate in conversations much but he could tell you were listening to the whole thing. Your legitimate interest in his stories warmed his heart a little bit more than he’d ever admit. He soon realized that you two were probably the most sane demons in the entirety of the hotel.
“The usual?” He asks. You nod and continue to fill your sketchbook with drawings, the act visible to him by the way your eyes shine. He poured three glasses for you both. One glass of whiskey for him, a glass of champagne for you, and one of your old paint cups with water. He handed you your drink in a champagne glass and your cup next to your sketchbook. Last time he handed that to you, you accidentally drank the paint water.
You quietly thank him as you gleefully kick your feet in the empty space under you. The chairs hoisted you up enough for you to not touch the floor when you sat, something he found admirable. He hummed as he cleans a couple of glasses left over from when Angel was drinking.
Oh how he wished to take a peek at your drawings. He would never try to ask, he learned from one of your small conversations together that you said it’s like a diary. And he’d be damned if he pried into that. The only time he’ll ever get any information from people is when they’re absolutely fucked up wasted. He watched as your face was unbelievably close to the book, the sound of your pencil against the paper was soothing to him. Oddly enough, it was never complete without it.
“Hey, Y/N? Could you do me a big big big favor? Pretty please?” Charlie speaks up, breaking the silence between you two. He sighs and starts to stock up his shelves knowing that you were probably going to get hoisted away now. He feels the weird shift in his chest that made him realize he was actually in love with you this whole time.
“Yes, Charlie?” You looked up at her as you put your pencil down. “What can I do to help?” Your voice was smooth jazz to his ears. He wanted to hear you speak more. And he hated when other demons talked to him. But your voice. He’d fight in a war with the exorcists to hear you speak to him more. He secretly wished you said his name instead.
She gives you a guilty grin, “So, I was trying to make a sign for Sir Pentious and well…”
“It looks a little bit like vomit!” Nifty chimed in, unashamed.
Charlie laughed nervously, “I may have chosen the wrong green…Would you mind, helping me out?”
You smile, “Of course.” You get up, following Charlie and Vaggie to the opposite side of the lobby to give aid in their color struggles.
Nifty continued her cleaning and while she did, she realized that you had left your sketchbook wide open. Of course, as it is in Nifty’s nature, she snatches the book off of the bar’s countertop, just out of Husk’s view and takes a look at the page it was open to. She gasps and runs over to Angel and Alastor, eager to show her finds.
“My my. What a wonderful find you’ve got there, Nifty.” Alastor grins. He was not much of a lover but he sure as hell enjoyed seeing his little pet get flustered. And perhaps he’s been more tolerant lately so he figured he can have a bit of happiness in this hotel.
“Oh. My. Fuck.” Angel stares at the sketches you have of Husk. The two pages were filled with him and just him. Him cleaning the glasses, him fixing his hate, him with his wings out. Some were obvious direct sketches from his day-to-day life but the others were all from your mind. There was one of him in a fancy suit. One with his hair slicked back the way he briefly mentioned it during his stories of being an overlord. Angel stares at the page a bit longer before looking over at Alastor who shared his mischievous grin.
While you were painting the sign with Vaggie, Charlie is pulled to the side by Alastor. “Charlie, my dear. You would say that you are a lover girl at heart, would you not?” He asks.
“Uhm. Yes. Yes I am, Alastor.” She answers with confusion in her voice, “Why?”
“Why, Nifty had some groundbreaking finds just a moment ago that I believe I should be sharing with you.” He smiles widely as Angel hands her the open sketchbook.
“Somebody,” he whispers, “Got a little thing for Whiskers~”
Charlie takes one long look at the page and was about to start squealing in delight until Alastor puts a finger up to her lips. “Ah ah, my dear. Now’s not the time for that. Wouldn’t it be best that you talk about this with her in private.” He suggested.
“You’re right! Ohhhh my gosh! This is amazing!” She grins, “I’ve known her in all my years here in hell and I have not seen her take a liking to anybody. I’ll definitely talk about it with her!”
-----------------
The sign for Sir Pentious was up in congratulations for his arrival and his development. Everyone was cheering him on by the bar. You scout around for your sketchbook, swearing you left it by Husk. He wouldn’t be the type of guy to take personal things like that.
Just as you were about to ask him where it was, Charlie quickly drags you into a spare room, filled with excitement. Excitement that drove you a bit nervous.
“Charlie? Is there anything you need me to do here?” You ask, scanning the empty room around you.
She simply could not contain her excitement. “It’s come to my attention that you, my lovely lovely friend, may have a teeny tiny crush on someone.”
Oh fuck.
“Haaaa. What?” You ask, trying to contain your composure. “I don’t like anybody. That’s funny. Hah hahhh…” You nervously laughed.
Just then, Charlie hands you your sketchbook. “Nifty found it and well…you left it open to your most recent sketches…of Husk!” She squeals.
Your face turns a bright red as you swiped the sketchbook out of her hands. “Charlie! Oh fuck, please don’t tell me you told him.” You were every shade of red possible in hell out of sheer embarrassment.
“Of course not! I wouldn’t take that adorable opportunity away from you and him!” She hugs her shorter friend, “So. Tell me all about it! When did it start? When did you know?” She gasps in excitement as she thought of more questions to bombard you with, “Why? How did you find out? What do you like most about him?”
“W-well I…” You stutter, hugging your sketchbook close, “I’m not sure when but I just know that, these last couple of weeks he’s been…um…you know. Kind of inspiration? My…muse. If you will.”
Charlie loved your answers and continued to ask more questions. “So when are you going to tell him?” She gasps, “Oh my gosh—You guys should totally go on a date!”
“A DATE?” You choke, “Fucking hell—Charlie. I cannot bring myself to do that. You’re the only person I can talk to without stuttering too much and you want me to go on a date with the very demon I like?”
The answer was yes and before you know it, you and Husk are getting pushed out of the hotel with a pile of cash in both of your guys’ hands, courtesy of Charlie. She somehow got you both into matching outfits. A dress with hearts on the collar with a white and red pearly necklace to match. Husk was somehow, probably by Alastor, shoved into his overlord suit and tie.
“You motherfuckers better not fuck up my bar! I worked all day to keep shit organized!” He yelled at the closed door, “I’m talking about you, Angel Dust!” He scoffed and fixed his sleeves.
You couldn’t bear to look dead at him. You safely got peeks from your peripheral. On one of your attempts, the two of you made eye contact for a brief second. You immediately looked away, muttering an apology under your breath.
“Are you gonna stand there staring at nothing or are we going?” He elbowed you gently.
“Oh! U-Uh. I’m not quite sure…where we have to go.” You admitted.
He rolls his eyes, “Thrown into battle blind, huh?” He chuckled before moving in front of you, “Take my hand. Can’t have other demons fucking with our artist.”
You look at him, memorizing the way his grin sat on his face. A light blush forms across your cheeks as you take his hand. He walks with you down the city and into the nearest fancy club in your area.
“Ah. I think this is gonna be a little…”
“You scared?” He grins, “You’ll be fine. You��re with me. I’ll fuck shit up if I need to.” He flashed you his playing cards, edges as sharp as can be.
You sigh and nod, walking in with him. He sat you down at a quieter side, as quiet as a famous club can be. You both share a bottle of whiskey, your sudden interest shocking him.
“You know, that art thing you do is mesmerizing.” Why did he have to bring that up now? You internally groaned. “It’s like magic whenever you put whatever’s in that brain on paper.” He stirs his drink with a claw, looking at you. You swear you see a bit of sparkle in his usual dull eyes.
“Th-thanks, Husk.” You stutter. The way his name came out of you warmed him up more than his drink. He wanted you to say it again so badly. "I’ve seen you do magic too y’know.” As much as he paid attention to your work, so did you. You have endless sketches of him playing with cards, fucking around with Angel’s hand with a smooth move so quick one could barely catch it without attentive eyes.
“Ohhh,” He leans in a bit, a teasing grin plastered on his face, “So you watch me that close, huh?”
You choke on your drink, spitting a bit out, “Wh-what! No.”
He chuckles a bit, leaning back, “Cut the act, Y/N.” He closed his eyes, putting his glass up to his lips, “Alastor told me already. And Nifty. And Angel. And Charlie, you know she can’t keep a secret well.”
You were a mess. They told him and they didn’t tell you that they told him? You’re definitely messing with their rooms later. But how much did they tell him? You can’t pinpoint it. “I-” You coughed, trying to clear up your throat from your near death experience via literal drowning in alcohol. “I can’t help that you’re just…nice to draw.”
You turn away, a bit ashamed and definitely flustered. He was quiet, watching you intently as he sipped on his drink. “I like drawing anything I like.”
Now it was his turn to choke a bit but you didn’t catch it. He wiped his mouth, “So you like me then, right?”
You turn to face him not expecting his face to be so close to yours. A little shift and you two would fall into a kiss. You weren’t able to read his face well. He had a blank expression. You stare at him, face red.
“It’s okay, fucker. You know how it is,” He elbows you, laughing a bit before grabbing your hand to drag you out of the club. “I’m the bartender that knows everything about everybody.”
He rarely used his wings, unwilling to accept his demon form. But tonight, he stretched his wings out. “What’re you-”
“Do you trust me, Y/N?” He looks at you over his shoulder, holding your hand a little tighter. You nod in response.
Without a second thought, he pulled you close to him, hugging you to his chest. You blinked and you were off the ground, soaring through the air. He held you close, careful to not let you fall.
“I want you to see something. Something I doubt anyone’s ever shown you.” He keeps his head up, unaware of how starstruck you’re looking at him. You were also too scared to look anywhere else.
He flies as high as he can, stopping at a certain point before holding you in his arms in a bridal style way. “Look around, Y/N. Take it all in.” He speaks softly. You look around and from where you guys are, you can see the entire Pentagram City. Your eyes are filled with a breathtaking view of the city you grew up in. He smiles at the sight of your interest, “As much as I fucking hate this place. It’s not bad when you can’t hear the chaos going on down there from up here.”
“It’s beautiful. I…I have to paint this.” You state, wishing you had your book with you. You rest your head on his chest. After a while you feel him fly towards a high point at the edge of the city, landing on a mountain. He doesn’t let you down as soon he lands though, he didn’t want to ruin your adoring looks at the view.
Your face is lit up with admiration, you feel at peace. It was quiet but a soothing kind of quiet. Your ears caught onto a different sound while you rested on his chest. Is he purring?
You look up at him, “Thanks for the ride, Husk.” Smiling warmly, you cupped his face in your hand. You swear you felt him lean into it. He puts you down gently before putting his hand over yours, returning your warm smile. “Can I ask you a question?”
He purrs softly, the vibrations reverberating on your hand. He nods. “Is it okay I…pet you a bit. You’re just so fluffy.” He went from looking at you with his eyes half shut to wide open, in disbelief. “I-It’s for my art! My drawings.” You laugh nervously, “You know…reference…” It was half a lie, which he is aware of, you actually do want to capture his soft looking fur in your drawings but wanted to know exactly how dense or fluffy it is.
He laughs, closing his eyes as he sat on the ground with you following after him, “You’re lucky I like you, Y/N. Go for it.”
He hated when people treated him like a cat but for you, he’d make an exception. He’d make multiple exceptions for you. You begin to stroke the top of his head, making sure you remember how it feels in your palms in case you never get the chance to do this again. His purring grew louder as he leaned into your touch.
You began to pet his cheeks, getting a closer look at his face, taking in every detail. From his heart shaped nose, to the way his eyebrows fluffed out of his face. He slowly opened his eyes, peeking at you. You were too mesmerized by how unbearably handsome he is to see him inching closer.
He grabs your hand on his cheek, “I could kiss you right now.” He could what? Before you got a chance to react he pulled you into him, his lips crashing on yours. You yelp before giving in and melting into him. The kiss didn’t last too long but it felt like hours.
You stared at him as longingly as you did dumbfounded. “Look, babe, I notice everything about you. Everything you do.” He holds your head in his hands. “I see the way you light up when Charlie brings you paintings. How you paint with that focused look. You’re one of, if not, the only demon with sense in that hotel and respect my boundaries. You’ve never pushed my buttons once. And I truly, truly appreciate it.”
You lean into his hold, holding his face in return, “I understand you a lot more than you think, Husk. I know it’s silly but I find comfort in you. I love the way your voice sounds. I love watching your magic tricks. I love the way you effortlessly make a drink without even looking. And I love the way you fight. You fill me with so much artistic desire and you get me out of the toughest art blocks out there.”
“And you help me stay calm when everybody gets on my nerves. I’ll take a fight on for you any day, babe.” He rests his forehead on yours, “Who would’ve thought my cold little heart could be warmed up in hell of all places, huh?”
He shifts and rests his head on your lap as you continue to pet him, humming softly as you did.
"And who would've thought I'd be able to get the grumpy bartender to purr in my lap?"
You two enjoyed the rest of your night together. He actually stole a bottle for you two and you both drank the night away.
.
.
.
“You think Y/N’s ruffling his feathers? If you know what I mean.” Angel laughs followed by a quick slap on the back by Vaggie. “Ow! It was just a joke. God, tits.”
“Oh I believe Husk is having a wonderful night.” Alastor grins, aware of what the soul he owns has done, “And might I say, he is quite the charmer. Truly a hidden gem. Under all that gruff he is but a little kitten.” He hummed, teleporting away into his tower.
Charlie was so excited and had set up a congratulations sign on the wall for when you two return. She was happy her dear friend finally found comfort in somebody.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk x reader#fluff#hazbin hotel x reader#did i mention this was fluffy#fluffy
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The Younger Kind Part 14 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Despite his best efforts, Bradley's mind is flooded with thoughts of you. After receiving a lecture from his best friend and making Noah cry, Bradley makes the decision to reach out to you. But perhaps it's already too late.
Warnings: Angst, swearing, and age gap (18+)
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
As soon as Bradley woke to the soft sunlight filtering in through his bedroom windows, his eyes settled on your purple crown. He tilted his head and examined it with a frown. He hadn't moved it since the night you wore it while he fucked you on the couch during your anatomy lesson. And now it seemed too precious to touch.
He had been hoping to spend some time in here with you yesterday, but instead he had shut things down with you completely. He stared at the ceiling trying to convince himself he'd done the right thing by trying to protect you. But all he could think about was how he made you cry.
And then Bradley spent the entirety of Sunday wallowing around in his underwear. He meant to do something productive. He planned on taking Noah grocery shopping. But as soon as Noah woke up and walked into the kitchen, Bradley lost the energy to do anything else at all.
"Is she here?" Noah asked, holding up some coloring books and a bag of Skittles. Bradley's heart sank. You must have left those on Noah's dresser last night.
"No, bub. She's not here."
He watched Noah's face fall as he sat at the kitchen table with the coloring books. "Can I eat them?" he asked, shaking the candy.
Bradley swallowed hard. "Yeah," he croaked, tearing the bag open for his child to eat Skittles for breakfast. Maybe Meredith had a point about his lack of stability.
"Share?" Noah asked, holding out the bag, but Bradley shook his head.
"I never deserved them."
The next day, Bradley started a week of work during which he promised himself he would get into a normal routine. But it was hard to make plans that didn't involve you when all he could do was think about you.
When he got to the coffee shop, the barista made him his coffee along with yours as soon as she saw him. "Thanks," he muttered, accepting both cups and a sharpie. He scrawled peasant across both cups and forced the drinks down on his drive to work.
To make matters worse, Noah asked for you constantly, and Bradley didn't know how to tell him that his beloved babysitter wouldn't be coming around anymore because his dad lied to her. So he didn't really say anything at all. Instead he watched his son look as dejected as he felt.
Tuesday after work, Bradley picked Noah up and they both headed over to meet with Tracy, his lawyer.
Once Bradley was seated across a small conference table from her while Noah colored on copy paper, Tracy sighed and shook her head.
"Bradley. I told you months ago that you needed to work on getting a custody agreement into place with Noah's mom." She was flipping through the papers in the manila folder that Meredith had left with him.
"Yeah," Bradley grunted. "Well, am I too late?"
She didn't answer him for a long time. Rather she added notes and marked things up with a purple highlighter. He thought of your purple crown hanging from his bed. He thought of your purple Skittles and nail polish and all the purple crayons. Who the fuck used a purple highlighter anyway?
"There's no way to prove she abandoned Noah," Tracy told him firmly, and Bradley already felt defeated.
"But she did!" he growled, already feeling bad for getting snippy with his lawyer, but at least he was paying someone to deal with his shitty attitude right now.
Tracy looked him calmly in the eye. "It doesn't matter if she did, Bradley. She would have access to the same phone records you do. She would be able to show that she tried to contact you fairly regularly. Furthermore, she lives in Oceanside, so she could claim she stayed nearby in an effort to be more involved. I can almost guarantee her lawyer will to try to push this back on you."
Bradley scoffed. "Can they do that?"
"Absolutely," Tracy confirmed. "They will try, and they will probably succeed. Judges usually like to side with mothers. And Meredith will be able to play the victim in this scenario pretty easily, I would imagine. How is a mother expected to help provide for her son if the child's horrible father won't let her spend time with him? How is Meredith expected to do anything for him when you have been keeping Noah from her?"
"He's almost four!" Bradley said, gesturing toward Noah as he colored quietly. "She's just acting on this now. Doesn't that look bad?"
Tracy shook her head sadly at him and listed off so many plausible sounding excuses that Bradley's stomach churned. "She tried to work it out with you, but you snubbed her. She didn't have the monetary resources until recently. You made her feel uncomfortable. She got bad legal advice previously which set her back. She wanted to make sure she was in a good place mentally to be a parent. The list of excuses could go on and on. She and her lawyer will find one that fits her nicely."
Bradley felt sick. "I can't lose him, Tracy. And you know as well as I do that none of that is true."
She nodded, reached across the table and patted his hand, and then said, "This is why I advised you to fix this before."
Bradley took some deep breaths while she shuffled the papers in front of her. "What can I do now?"
Then Tracy was looking at him with sharp eyes. "Did you tie up your loose ends?"
Bradley was uncomfortable. He undid the top two buttons of his khaki uniform shirt and took a deep breath. "If you're asking me if I broke my own heart and Noah's by telling the first girl I've had feelings for in years that I can't see her anymore, then yes, Tracy, I tied up my loose ends."
"Bradley. You're the one who asked me to advise you. From this point on, you need to look flawless. Do you understand me? You can see her again after we complete litigation."
He ran his hands over his face, suddenly exhausted even though he'd gone to bed at eight last night. "This is all going to be very confusing for him," Bradley said, nodding toward his son who had already used up half of Tracy's stack of paper. "And I can't ask someone to wait for me when we don't even know how long this is going to take. When I don't even know why this is happening."
Tracy handed some papers to him. "Since I believe you can't win the argument that Meredith abandoned Noah, we need to look at custody options. If you don't want to ask for any child support from Meredith, and you're willing to work with her for visitation rights, I'm nearly certain you can win full custody."
Win. Bradley didn't like thinking about Noah as an object. One that could be shared, passed from one parent to the other, and awarded ownership of. But he had to in this case.
He grunted, "No. No visitation. I want her out of the picture completely. I don't want her money. I don't want anything from her. I want full, sole custody. Do you think we can settle out of court?"
"With that list of demands? Doubtful. I don't think she will settle."
-----------------------
You only left your bed on Sunday to go to the bathroom. You were sad, about Bradley and what you thought you meant to him, but you were especially distraught about how much you were going to miss Noah. And you were so upset with yourself, too. You were angry. You had grown so attached to that little boy and his father. Bradley was a walking, talking red flag, but you just couldn't seem to help yourself.
He didn't want you. He was more than willing to mess around with you, sure. But you were beginning to see that Bradley only saw you as an easy piece of ass. One that would melt when he pretended to beg. One that he could butter up with vanilla lattes. One that would let him have a quickie before work. All while going out with other women. All while planning to sort things out with Meredith.
You wondered how much of what he'd told you that night on his living room floor was actually accurate. If she really left them, why was he willing to discuss getting back together with her now? Why was Bradley going to let her have a chance to be a real mom to Noah?
Every time you thought about how you ran away from Meredith at the park, you rolled over and buried your head under your pillow. She had more rights to be around her son than you did, and you ran away from her. Mortifying. And your arm still hurt and would take weeks to heal.
Thursday was Noah's birthday. You really wanted to see him. You already had birthday presents for him. You had been planning on baking him a dinosaur cake for the past week. It was all you could think about.
You needed a distraction. That's how you ended up drunk at Greyson's place on Wednesday night. It was a stupid decision. You had class in the morning. You had interviews for jobs coming up, and you needed to get good recommendation letters from your instructors. But Greyson had cheap vodka, and he was paying attention to you.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks," he said, refilling your drink with a huge pour of alcohol.
"I've been busy," you replied, laying down on his couch as his living room started to spin. "Babysitting. But not anymore."
Somehow you felt a little less sad now as the music playing from Greyson's phone made everything sound fuzzy. And when he set the drink down and climbed on top of you, there was no initial hesitation in your body as he kissed you. He didn't have a mustache, and he wasn't as big and substantial as Bradley, but his kisses felt okay. You knew him. You were used to this.
You arched your back for him to remove your shirt and your bra. He was hard and rubbing you through his jeans as he sucked on your breasts. You moaned softly. He lacked the same finesse that Bradley had, but it still felt good. You could do this.
Greyson unzipped his jeans and guided your hand inside his underwear. You opened your eyes and looked up at his handsome face as you stroked him. "Will you go down on me?" you asked before you really processed your words.
"What?" he grunted, thrusting into your palm. "How drunk are you?"
Your hand paused on his length. What the fuck were you doing? You didn't even want this. "It was just a question, Grey," you mumbled, shifting underneath him.
"Come on, babe. Guys don't like doing that."
But that wasn't true. You closed your eyes, and you could still hear Bradley desperately asking to taste you there. I want to know if you taste sweet all over, Princess. Will you let me find out?
You sat up, startled by the thought, and now the room was really spinning. Bradley liked going down on you. Maybe he was a liar and a manipulator, but he had really enjoyed that. He had made you feel so good. And he hadn't expected anything in return from you afterwards.
"Let's just fuck," Greyson said, reaching for your leggings and yanking them down your thighs. "That's what you need. I'll get a condom."
You watched him stand up and walk away. You were going to cry, you could already tell. And when he returned, you must have had tears in your eyes, because he tossed the condom onto the couch next to you and said, "I knew I shouldn't have given you that much to drink. You probably can't even give me head now."
"I just want to go home," you replied, hating the angry look on his face as he stood above you.
"Fine," he agreed, and he called you a ride. You went to his bathroom, wishing you could go to Bradley's house instead of your empty little rental. And then you cried more. Even splashing cold water on your face seemed to do nothing.
Ten minutes later, Greyson was closing his door behind you as you stumbled outside to find your Uber. The cool night air cleared your head a little bit, and when you got home, you went to your couch with a bag of Skittles.
It was midnight now. It was Noah's birthday. You sucked on a green Skittle and typed up a text to Bradley. Just this one. You'd let yourself send this one text, and then that would be it.
Will you tell Noah I hope he has a wonderful fourth birthday? And tell him I hope he keeps singing the dinosaur song. Please let me know if I can drop off his birthday presents.
You hit send after rereading the message at least ten times. Bradley probably wouldn't respond, and that was fine. You could always just leave the birthday gifts on their front porch. And then you'd never see them again.
Next thing you knew, you were waking up the next morning thirty minutes before your first class started, and you had a handful of Skittles stuck to your palm along with a raging hangover. And you had worn Greyson's hoodie home again even though you meant to leave it at his place last night.
-----------------------------
When Bradley woke up on Noah's birthday to a text from you, he sat up to read it immediately. He couldn't believe you texted him nearly seven hours ago and he was just seeing it now.
You had birthday presents for his son. Bradley cradled his face in his hand and read the message a second time. You were so sweet. So good to Noah. And Bradley had insinuated that you were everything but that when you had been here on Saturday night. Yet you still wanted to give Noah something for his birthday.
And then he let his imagination run away. He was getting hard as he pictured you in his kitchen, wearing your crown. But he couldn't let himself get off to the thought of you. He didn't even deserve that much. So he just got dressed and started getting some cereal ready for Noah.
Once again, he had no groceries, so he made himself coffee and ate a carrot for breakfast before waking up Noah.
"Happy birthday, bub! You're four now!" he said, scooping Noah up into his arms and holding him tight.
He couldn't lose this feeling. He just couldn't. His lawyer had all but assured him Meredith wouldn't be able to win full custody without visitation. So no matter what, Bradley would still get to feel this, at least on occasion. But as Noah rubbed his sleepy eyes and smiled at him, Bradley knew that he wouldn't be happy with anything except full, sole custody of his kid. He wanted to keep doing exactly what he had been doing for the past four years. "Let's have some cereal, and then I'll take you to daycare."
"Okay," he replied, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck on the way to the kitchen.
"Aunt Nat is gonna bring you cupcakes later, and then we can have a big party on Saturday."
"Can my babysitter come to my party?"
Bradley set him down and knelt next to the chair. He brushed Noah's hair back from his face and watched him eat Cheerios. "I don't know," he muttered. "I don't think so."
Would you even want to come? Would it be a good idea? Bradley had already lied to you about so many things to get you away from the two of them. But now Noah was crying. Fat tears rolled down his rosy cheeks as his face scrunched up. Great. He made his son cry on his own birthday.
"I miss her, too," Bradley promised, wiping away each tear as it fell.
"You said she was your favorite." Noah looked at him accusingly, as if he knew Bradley had already broken your trust in him.
"She is," Bradley whispered, kissing Noah's forehead. "Eat your cereal."
Bradley stood and picked up his phone, reading your message one more time. He had been blaming Meredith for everything in his mind. But really, he was the villain here in so many ways. Just as he was about to respond to you, he got a call from his lawyer.
"Tracy. Please, give me some good news."
"Sorry it's so early. But I just got off the phone with Meredith's lawyer. She did not agree to our terms, and now we have a preliminary hearing scheduled for next week, just as long as the judge approves it for his docket."
Bradley's heart was pounding as he asked, "Is that good?" His eyes were on Noah as Tracy responded.
"I think it's very good. You asked for sole custody. You tried to offer her visitation rights, at my urging. She rejected the offer. Now we can really dig in and fight. Because we aren't going to backpedal to this offer again when I think you can get exactly what you want."
Exactly what he wanted. Bradley pictured you and Noah napping on the couch with a movie on while he stroked your soft skin. He pictured the three of you eating pizza while you dumped dressing all over your salad. He pictured you underneath him on the living room floor feeding him Skittles while you laughed. He pictured himself eventually picking out a new car for you, as long as it wasn't burgundy.
"Great. Thank you, Tracy. Just let me know when and where. I'm ready to fight."
-----------------------------
After work, Nat went ahead to his house with dinosaur balloons and some cupcakes while Bradley picked Noah up from daycare. He came out wearing a birthday crown that did not look as adorable on him as the construction paper crowns you and he made.
"Let's go eat cupcakes and have a great night with Aunt Natasha," he said, kissing Noah all over his face while he laughed.
When he carried Noah inside the house, Nat grabbed him up and said, "Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Then she turned to look back at Bradley and leaned to look past him, confused. "It's just the three of us?"
"Yeah," he confirmed, wishing she would end the conversation there. But of course, Bradley wasn't getting anything to go his way right now.
"Is she coming later? Is she still in class?"
"No."
Nat eyed him up and down. "What did you do?"
"Can we talk about this later?"
"No."
Bradley sighed and led them into the kitchen, which Nat had decorated, and Noah climbed down from her arms trying to catch a balloon on his way.
"She's not coming," Bradley told her softly as she messed with his coffee maker.
"So she's coming to the party on Saturday instead?"
"I didn't invite her."
She turned to glare at him. "You've been about an inch away from telling me you're in love with her, and now you're telling me you didn't invite her to Noah's party? Oh," she gasped. "Does this have to do with Merebitch and the custody threat?"
Bradley grunted, not loving having this conversation in front of Noah. "I broke things off. Last Saturday night."
"What?" Nat gasped, getting in his face. "Why am I just hearing about it now? You liked her. You didn't like any of the women from the app, but you liked her. You were actually happy when you came to work after you saw her. What is wrong with you?"
Bradley leaned in closer. "Meredith threatened her. Threatened me and Noah through her. And she already got her arm all banged up trying to keep Noah safe. She's better off without me." His eyes drifted toward Noah who was poking his finger into the icing on one of the cupcakes.
Nat grabbed him by his shirt and shook him. "Invite her right now. Invite her to come on Saturday. Meredith doesn't get to control everything you do just because she decided to show up and start a bunch of shit- I mean crap," she said apologetically as she winced toward Noah.
"I can't, Nat... I was... not kind to her the other night. I told her she was too young and immature for me. I called her a kid. I told her it wouldn't work between us."
Nat looked disgusted. "Fix it. And while you're at it, give her a little credit, Bradley!"
He shook his head. "Meredith already has me by the balls, Nat," he whispered harshly. "I'm not going to let that happen to her, too."
"Look at your son. Does he love his babysitter?"
Bradley narrowed his eyes and glowered at Nat. Then he looked at Noah, and his irritation melted. "Yeah. He's very attached to her." Bradley knew you were attached to Noah as well. And he himself was aching inside without you around.
"Then let him have everyone he loves at his birthday party this weekend. Or you will regret it."
---------------------------
You were in bed on Thursday night, trying to tire yourself out with a book so you could fall asleep. Greyson was texting you nonstop, trying to see if you were "feeling better" and "wanted to come over and try again". As if wanting a guy to make you feel good while hooking up was some sort of wild idea you came up with. Like asking him to go down on you was the most outlandish request he had ever heard.
Your phone vibrated again. "Oh my god, Grey. I am not in the fucking mood!" You ripped the charger out of your phone and contemplated throwing it across the room. You were so angry and hurt, and you didn't feel like this was going to get better anytime soon.
Then you saw that it was Bradley who had texted you, and you thought about taking your phone outside and running it over with your car instead. "Not interested in you, either," you muttered.
Like a dumbass, you had texted Bradley last night when you were drunk and sad that it was Noah's birthday and you wouldn't get to see them. And apparently now he was finally writing back. You wished you had the willpower to just delete his message, but that wasn't going to happen.
Bradley Bradshaw: I'm having a small party for Noah on Saturday afternoon. I'm sure he would be thrilled if you could make it. Hopefully you can.
-------------------------------
He invited Princess! Will she come? Did he only invite her for Noah? Or is he just as miserable as his child is without Princess? Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !
PART 15
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all i can taste is this moment ; 이민형
pairing idol!mark x female!reader
synopsis after being separated for months due to mark being on tour, you try and make his return as memorable as possible. overcome with being reunited with your boyfriend, you realize that no amount of gifts or decorations could equal the way you felt with him.
genre tooth rotting fluff, reader uses she!her pronouns, nicknames (baby, love, pretty boy/girl) used, slightly suggestive at the end.
wc 2.1k
part two to this, but can be read as a stand alone!
you sat in the airport, a small bounce in your leg. you weren’t anxious per se, just overcome with the all consuming feeling that mark would be yours in the next ten minutes. this feeling had been bubbling within you for days but had now begun to overflow from every pore.
you had covered your apartment from head to toe in decorations. streamers and balloons were taped to your cabinets, which greeted you from the door, and small gifts that you had collected during your time apart sat neatly wrapped on the counter.
you and mark had never been apart for this long. three achingly long months had you both exhausted, not having each other to recharge on after long, stress-filled days.
"someone seems excited." your friend grinned at your state. bobbing legs and fidgeting hands made up your body, while a smile was fighting to stay put against your lips.
you had spent the entirety of the day before and the morning of on the phone with mark texting, calling, and facetime-ing.
after that night a few months ago, you both agreed to take time for each other out of the day. whether it be through sending videos recapping your day while simultaneously doing your nighttime routine (mark) or sending small texts or photos throughout the day instead of paragraphs (you).
with all the thoughts running through your mind, you almost didn’t feel your friend's hand shake your shoulder. "your lover boy’s here." your eyes quickly focused ahead of you on mark, completely missing the smirk pulled on your friend's lips at your lovesick expression.
you couldn’t even speak, with love, relief, and happiness taking over all your senses. you nearly felt stuck to your seat with shock before a sudden jolt pushed you forward and into the arms of your boy.
"holy shit," his breathy voice greeted you in a warm, hard hug. it was the type of hug that made you lose your breath and feel nothing but his arms tightly wrapped around your back and shoulders.
strangers could’ve thought this was a goodbye, and the sight of the two of you holding one another so tight as if you could slip away any second, but there was still that feeling creeping on you.
you knew this would more than likely happen again, making you want to make his arrival even more special.
"god, i missed you so much. fuck, i missed you." he pulled back only slightly so he could hold your face between his hands. his eyes held every emotion his words couldn’t seem to express.
"i missed you more than words can explain, mark." the words came out shaky as tears brimmed your eyes, and he had the same reaction.
a small tear fell from his eye and curled with the appearance of his smile. you wish humans had developed a way to take photos with the eye because you would have captured that beautiful moment. but it brought your own smile to your lips, knowing that you were the only person to see him like this and share this intimate moment with him.
"your hair…" his hair was long and blond when you last saw him. even with a beanie covering his head, you still noticed the short, dark strands underneath. "you like?" he moved his head as if he were showing off for the paparazzi, making you both laugh at his silly antics.
"okay love birds, some of us wanna go home and sleep." renjun’s half-hearted voice broke you both from your daze, sending you all out the door towards your respective cars.
hand in hand, the two of you made your way to your car. "fucking finally." mark sighed once he got seated in the passenger seat. without another second of silence, he pulled you in by the neck before you were even able to crank up the car.
your lips fit into his perfectly, as they always did, but this time it was as if mark was trying to express everything he felt in that moment in a single gesture. his hands that rested on the back of your neck centered you to the ground with their weight, and his lips moved so softly but with so much love that it made you dizzy.
it was evident on your face after he pulled back that the kiss had taken a toll on you. cheeks flushed and eyes fluttering, his face broke out into a toothy smile. "i was waiting to do that." he stroked his thumb up and down the sides of your neck, sending a small chill up your spine.
"clearly! you almost knocked the air out of me." you joked before finally cranking up the car and heading home.
your stomach began to flutter as you made your way into your apartment building.
would he think it’s too much?
are you being too dramatic?
your worries were soon silenced as mark kissed you feverishly in the elevator just as the door closed. "i seriously think i’m having kiss withdrawal from you, pretty girl." he spoke lovingly before kissing you once more right before the door opened, leaving you a blushing mess.
it’s like there’s a magnetic pull between the two of you, with his hands seemingly always on your sides or held between yours. you also couldn’t contain yourself, spending a bit too long at red lights ogling at your boyfriend's pretty face on the drive back.
if it weren’t for the nerves creeping up your neck, you would be all over him, just as he was with you.
"need help, baby?" he questioned as you fumbled with your keys at the door like it were your first time holding the object. "oh no, sorry, i’m just…" you couldn’t quite get the words out with the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment suffocating you at this point.
"baby, everything okay?" mark’s eyes searched for yours in an attempt to understand what was going on. "come on. i wanna know what’s running through that pretty little head of yours." his hands came up and rested on the sides of your face, making you to finally look up at him.
"it’s just…" you began, his head slightly nodding for you to continue. "i wanted to make this all very special for you since this is the longest it's been that you’ve had to be gone for, and i’m now just overthinking it, and- shit, i just don’t want you to think i’m this crazy over the top girlfriend." your words were rushed, leaving you to catch your breath.
mark’s eyes softened while his mouth was pulled into a toothy grin. "you did something for me?" his sweet voice was laced with an airy laugh as he looked at you like you had told him the secrets of the universe. "yeah…" you sheepishly turned and unlocked your door, hoping mark didn’t notice how red your face had gotten from all of his sweet words.
you opened the door to reveal all the decorations you had put up earlier that morning. a spider-man "welcome home" banner hung across the upper head cabinets, and colorful balloons and streamers were attached to the ceiling, along with two gifts that still sat on the table.
he walked in without saying a word, his back turned to you since he raced through the door right as you opened it. with the lack of words and no way of seeing his face, you began to get worried again.
"i know it’s too much just-" your words were cut off immediately when mark’s lips crashed into yours. teeth slightly clanking together and hands aimlessly searching to hold you anywhere and everywhere, he couldn’t contain himself.
you yelped slightly, bringing your hands to hold his face, and you could feel his cheeks heating up from under your palms. "i kiss fucking kiss love kiss you kiss." you couldn’t contain the smile that instantly pulled at your lips while mark’s were placed against yours.
"i love you too." you breathed as he finally freed you from his lips. "just… god you’re so amazing." his arms wrapped around you tightly and he picked you up from the ground, causing you to squeal at his silly antics.
he finally sat you down on the counter, right beside the presents you had gotten for him. "oh, for me" his dramatic voice made you laugh and pull him into you for what felt like the thousandth time in minutes.
"it’s just a few things that made me think of you while you were away. don’t get too excited, pretty boy." your hands ran through his dark strands to fix the messed up strands from your scandalous actions at the door.
he picked up a tiny, blue-wrapped box with a small white bow tied neatly around it. his delicate fingers undid the wrapping so as not to mess up your hard work. little glances and smiles were exchanged after every rip of wrapping, as if he were a little kid on christmas.
finally ridding the box of all its wrapping, he was left staring at an even smaller brown box. inside was a tiny pendant with your initials on a silver chain.
"and look!" before he could even get a word out, you reached down your shirt and pulled out a matching necklace, except with a “m” hanging from the chain.
"i know you don’t really like rings, and with this, you could wear it all the time under your clothes for things, and it’s even waterproof!" you geeked out. mark was still relatively silent, consumed with his love for you. his heart felt like it was going to explode at any moment.
"you’re fucking amazing, you know that? you’re incredible, baby." his hands were placed on either side of your thighs, which now trapped him in front of you. his eyes followed yours no matter what as you clasped the chain around his neck.
after placing a quick kiss on his cheek, he opened his next gift with just as much eagerness. this one was in a bag stuffed with colorful tissue paper. it was filled with various t-shirts with mark’s favorite artists and media.
"you know you can never have too many!" you smiled as he examined each shirt. "you mean we. me and you both know these will end up on you at some point." he teased, making you blush at the suggestive comment. "yeah, yeah, whatever, pretty boy." you pulled him back in-front of you by his hand. all your nerves finally falling out of your system, leaving you at ease.
he was between your legs once more, fingers pawing at your thighs and hips. "mmm, i missed you lots you know? spent every single second thinking about you." he groaned as his head laid against your palm.
"i saw you everywhere, baby. everything reminded me of you; it almost drove me insane. i mean, did the new spider-man movie have to come out while you were gone? the universe must know that’s our thing!" mark’s smile grew more and more at the words that came out of your mouth. his head seriously couldn’t wrap around how in love he is with you.
"it just sucks cause i feel like i lost so much time with you." your free hand came up and caressed the sides of his face and raked into his hair. "i know, pretty baby, i know." his head detached from your hand as he then attached his lips to various parts of your face.
first your cheek, then your brow, temple, forehead, nose, and then made his way down your neck, causing your breath to hitch and your eyes to flutter shut. your fingers gripped harder on his hair.
"mark…" you moaned as his lips attached to a specific spot. "yes, pretty girl?" he looked up at you with lethal amounts of love and lust in his eyes. "i know one way we can make up for the lost time." his face now came up at level with yours. your fingers looping into his belt loops, pulling him flush against you.
"oh yeah and how is that?" his head tutted to the side as if he were actually oblivious, which clearly he was not in any way. "i think you know…" you smirked as you hopped off the counter and threaded his fingers into yours to guide him towards your shared room.
small laughs between kisses and longing touches were exchanged on the way. you both completely drunk on one another, while all of the pent-up feelings you shared finally being freed.
now all you could taste was each other, and you two would never want it any other way.
© martiniblues | do not copy or translate my work!
notes | maybe i got a bit too carried away… BUT i’m so sorry for my disappearance and for how long part two took to come out. i just got back to school and my job had been pretty hectic (help). i have so many ideas for new works and will hopefully have a lot more time now. hope you enjoyed this and please leave suggestions in my ask box!!!
#mark lee#mark lee fic#mark lee fluff#mark lee imagines#nct#nct 127#nct 127 fic#nct dream#nct dream fic#nct fluff#nct mark lee#mark lee x you#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x reader#nct x reader#nct x you#nct scenarios
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CUPID'S ARROW! lee heeseung x f!reader
SYNOPSIS-> you and heeseung, the schools hot topic and archer, have always despised one another. ruining each other's presentations, tripping each other in the hallways- you name it. so when the boy stops tormenting you due to his new girlfriend, you realize maybe you wanted him more than you thought you did.
PAIRING-> lee heeseung x fem!reader
GENRE-> enemies to lovers, highschool au, fluff, a little bit of angst maybe?!:!:??' oneshot
WORDCOUNT-> 9k ! (hello ?)
AUTHORS NOTE-> in honor of my favorite libra i decided to comeback🤗 if this flops im leaving again Okiiiii Purr👌 this took me 5 years By The Way. I dont even remember if i had a perm taglist Hel! Update i found itReblogs are greatly appreciated let your favourite enha tumblr senior pop off
PERM TAGLIST-> @bubblytaetae @qghosty @viagumi @artstaeh @bigtoewinwin @strwberrydinosaur @enhacolor @rendezrei @shinsou-rii @notrosemary
The school's atmosphere was always bustling, you and your small friend group never felt like outsiders in these rusty walls. Graduation was right around the corner and as much as it should have been a good thing, you felt as if a huge part of your life will be taken away from you. Instead you'll receive a piece of paper for the countless sleepless nights and mental breakdowns. You wondered where all the time between freshman year and the last months of senior year had gone.
Niki. He was with you since birth, or at least you liked to believe that. It was the perfect cliche, next door neighbor and family best friend born on the same day. You always called him a walking red flag for the numerous times he'd do something against the norms. It was small things like pouring his milk first or more concerning instincts where he’d tie his shoes before actually getting into them. He’d defend himself with the barrier of time saving, but you doubted it was even true. But aside the weird things he’d do, the true him was a sunny and caring person. He liked the feeling that making people happy gave him. He put the people closest to him before himself. In Conclusion, he had a heart of gold but a brain full of air.
Jungwon. It has always been hard for you to give a coherent depiction of his personality. Every first of the month he became a new person. In September he made ‘deez nuts’ jokes but as soon as october came they were old and cringe. His confusing being made Jungwon an interesting and alluring person. Although he changed his identity every month or so, his heart and kind nature never changed. He was your personal 911, under the phone for every small inconvenience or big downfall. You loved every part of him and would never trade the clumsy boy for anyone else.
Yunjin. She was outgoing and so talkative it was almost impossible not to fall asleep during one of her storytimes. In freshman year you told her to befriend the school's most envied girl, Miyoung. The moment you almost lost her to the shit person Miyoung was, you realized how much your friendship really meant to you. Yunjin was stubborn so it took you a lot of courage to confront her about the problem. She also pulled the swim team's captain, Jake . Most people envied her for the bond she shared with him, some wondered how these two people even got together in the first place. It was true. Yunjin was nothing like Jake, but maybe her true self was the reason she fit so well into the mold he gave her.
You all assumed the entirety of your small town was or is in this school. The people were welcoming and talked until their tongues went dry. You all internally agreed on making the most out of the time spent in school before going on with the miserable life this town was offering.
The only exception was Lee Heeseung.
He tried to make your life miserable even before graduating. One dirty look could make you shut off for the entirety of the next period on your time table. And if that wasn’t enough he’d try to ruin everything good you had left of that day. Sometimes he’d leave you alone, just to make you believe it was all over. Those days always felt like the rain before the storm. He was nothing but a full of himself asshole who rode off of academic success and school popularity. Girls admired him for his archery achievements and tall, sporty figure.
It was hard to tell exactly where it had all started, the competitiveness and hatred he shared towards you. How did sitting together at lunch, or attending his competitions turn into something so disastrous and sad.
Perhaps it was the track you both took up, and had to compete against each other in. Or maybe your final results that topped his. On the other hand it could've been the brief relationship between you and his best friend, Park Sunghoon. But you’d rather believe it's just pure jealousy. You were always better than him in everything except that pointless arrow shooting he cherished so much. No one performed as well as him in archery so maybe that was the reason he liked to rub it in your face every chance he got.
You got to know him from both sides, and sometimes you’d deny the fact you missed him before he got brainwashed by the meaningless highschool fame.
“It’s eight, right?” Heeseung asked, pen pointing towards the answer in the middle of all his scribbles.
His glasses were constantly sliding off his nose, as he used all the brain power left after the tiring school day to solve his algebra homework. The numbers started to look all the same, and he wondered if x was a number or the problem he had to solve.
“I got 4” you said and he sighed.
His head hung low as he scribbled over the answer once again. Heeseung’s eyes traced over the equation, looking for the moment he made a mistake. He looked disappointed, and you felt bad for being the smarter one at that moment. It’s not like you corrected him to boost your own ego.
“How do you do it? Why do you always get the right answer?”he asked quietly, embarrassed with himself.
You had wondered yourself. Why did you always have the right answer to everything and algebra equations? It came to you naturally, and you never thought of it as something others didn’t possess.
“Show me your paper, Heeseung, '' you asked politely. His wrought hand slid the paper towards you, avoiding any eye contact. “2608 divided by 652 isn’t 8”you pointed to the set of numbers.
He said nothing, just wrote down his final answer on the spot under the question on his work sheet.
A beat of silence came in the library, and you just noticed how quiet it has gotten. Usually the small whispers of other students caught your ear, but now it felt as if you two were the only ones in this modest room. Your eyes trace the study desks and contrary to your belief, all of them were packed with groups of students studying. Some were deeply focused on their literature assignments or chemistry homework, others rather spoil the learning process for the rest.
“I think I’ll just give up. This is pointless” Heeseung murmured, packing his things back into the emptiness of his backpack.
“If you give up now, later it’ll be even harder for you. We’re only in freshman year” you said, grabbing onto his hand.
It was cold, and you felt the feeling of failure radiate off of him.
“Heeseung, I believe in you, I promise. Let’s just finish this and I’ll reward you with some dinner after this. How does that sound?”you sounded like a mom, but he didn’t seem to care.
A smile briefly decorated his face, as he brought the black backpack back up to his chest to pull out the worksheet once again. He grabbed a pen from your pencil case without asking, and continued to focus on the next question.
“I think that sounds nice,” he answered in a moment of comforting silence.
The thought of that day brought you back to the memory of the Heeseung you learned to like.
///
“Oh c'mon I have no money!” Jungwon said cuddling up to Niki.
Niki’s lunch plate was full of delicious food and the most random items the school's cafeteria offered. He looked at Jungwon and just slapped his hand away, pushing a handful of chips into his mouth. To show off probably. Jungwon sighed and moved onto his next target.
“What about you Y/nnie? I’m so hungry, can you hear my stomach rumbling?” he questioned giving you puppy eyes. You just scoffed and slid your extra sandwich towards him.
He squealed in excitement, and took the smallest bite, savoring the treasure in his hands. Niki just shook his head, and kept on eating what his plate gave him.
“I thought we agreed on sabotaging Jungwon every lunch?”he commented, and Jungwon glared at him confused.
“What do you mean by that?”he asked, concerned for himself, and his empty wallet that accompanied him to every lunch period.
“Where is Yunjin?” Niki asked, dogging the older boy's question.
Jungwon just sighed and finished whatever he had left of the sandwich in his hands.
“With Jake, I’m not sure,” you replied.
“They're probably making out under the bleachers again. I mean it’s summer time” Jungwon said, wiping his fingers on the soft material of his pants.
Every summer time, Jake and Yunjin would be caught under the bleachers of the football field. They’d usually get detention, and continue it there. All of you saw it as their little tradition, as disgusting as it was. The bleachers reeked of the most disgusting smell, probably not being thoroughly washed since they were built.
Jake seemed like the typical player type, full of himself, and way too proud of his athletic achievements, but he was the complete opposite. He liked to hide away in the depths of the school, never interrupted class with the stupid jokes boys his kind made, and loved small gestures people directed towards him. Jake liked Yunjins company because she brought out the best in him. She brought him to heights he's never seen, and that is not in a sexual context only. People didn’t envy her for being with Jake, but rather for being the missing piece in his puzzle.
“We should go to the football game next week!” Jungwon asserted excitedly at the thought of Yunjins and Jake's tradition.
“Isn't that something straight people like doing?” Niki snorted.
He didn’t see anything special in seeing the boys of this highschool compete against some other highschool nearby. He had a point though, our school is going to lose either way.
“I thought you and Sunoo were friends?” you said, remembering Kim Sunoo was a famous quarterback. He was tall, really attractive and actually looked decent on the field with all that gear.
Even you found yourself crushing on him in the beginning of sophomore year. He had a charming aura that you wanted to get to know better. It obviously didn’t work after he indirectly rejected you. Looking back at it now, you aren't sure what went through your mind.
“Well my friendship with him doesn’t mean I care enough to watch him throw a ball around” Niki shrugged.
It was hot and dry, the sun peeked through the large windows. It hit your back, warming you in a not so comfortable way.
“I could really get a cold water right now” you sighed and looked over to Niki who despite having an overflowing plate, didn’t possess any drink at all.
You regretted voicing your inner thoughts as the chair behind you jerked. It was like you could predict the future when Heeseung’s tall figure covered the boiling sun that spread through your back.
“You want something to drink, Y/nnie?” Heeseung said and you could feel his eyes burning a hole on the back of your head.
His arms extended to grab the Sprite off his table. Sunghoons hand stopped him.
“Leave her alone dude” he said calmly.
Jay and Sunghoon have grown tired of Heeseung’s childish antics. They knew he had absolutely no reason to keep on making you miserable. They’ve called him out on it countless times, but he doesn’t seem to care at all.
“And what if I don’t? You’re not her boyfriend anymore”he whispered and groped the drink in his hand.
He turned back to you smiling, your body was already facing his, a look on your face he knew well. It was you signalizing you knew what was coming. It’s not like he hasn’t pulled this ‘prank’ at least forty times this year.
“Back to you. What about a Sprite, hm?”he said with a sly smile.
“Can you just leave me alone, seriously?” you said, unfazed by his dominant act “You already spilled coffee on me last week, Heeseung”you added and he chuckled.
“Yeah I did, and it was fucking awesome” he said twirling the can in his hand.
You felt the fizzling liquid quickly move on from your freshly washed hair to your forehead and along the length of your shoulders. You felt sticky, and disgusting. Heeseung laughed, probably being the only one who found the incident funny.
The chair jerked once again, and Sunghoon stood up pushing Heeseung away from you. He took the tissues from the pocket in his jacket and handed them to you.
“You don’t have to help me, you know?” you said avoiding eye contact. Sunghoon shrugged.
“This is the least I can do to make up for having an annoying and childish friend”he mutters, but the admission alone was enough to calm your heart.
Your warm hand trembles slightly as you grab the tissues from him. You wiped whatever you could off your face, and put the wet hair into a messy ponytail. Words leap at the tip of your tongue as you hold back everything in you to keep yourself from wrestling Heeseung to the floor.
“I think we need to talk, Heeseung” you say and he calms his laughter down.
“For what? No need to waste anymore time on you today” he laughs and gives you that dumb face you hate.
You exhale yet another breath of annoyance “I don’t think you have anything better to do, if this is the peak of your day”
“I do, right Sunghoon?” he asks, hoping to get the answer he wanted but Sunghoon stays quiet, observing the scene before him. “Why do you still act the way you did when you two dated? Seriously, it’s so annoying” he huffed.
“Cause you’re being an asshole, Heeseung” Jay interjected, still seated by the trios usual table.
“And you’re being stuck up. What's wrong in having a little fun?” he sighed.
“You’re the only one having fun, Heeseung” you said, and he stared into your eyes.
He wasn’t fazed by your words or anyones in fact. He wanted the high ground in life so going under the influence of peoples opinion wasn’t even an option for him.
“I have to put myself first” he giggled, and you rolled your eyes at his stupid comment.
He was standing inches away from you, and you could swear the heat was radiating off of him. He smelled of Japanese cherry blossoms. You found that strange, expecting a man like him to wear the strongest cologne out there.
The truth was, Heeseung always went for a softer look. He had the whole package from the hair to the shoes. Maybe it was one of his tactics to stand out and showcase his individuality as best as he could.
“Can you just let this go? The whole act you have going on. It’s become old”you say, your voice monotone. He looks around the cafeteria.
“I don’t see anyone better to make fun of” he states, and grabs your hand “Consider that as a compliment” he adds, and smiles brightly.
No matter how much time has passed from the day you met to this moment, his sweet and charming smile never changed. It was made to mesmerize others, and sometimes you couldn't help but get excited.
Your hand jerks away from his “Fuck, just cut it out, please. Just let me have some fun with my friends before graduation” you plead.
Heeseung has never seen you actually beg him to stop. As much as an asshole he was, maybe you were right. He didn’t think about graduation until now.
Heeseung was scared to graduate and leave his school career behind. He knew whatever accomplishments he had in archery would give him nothing in return in college. He knew the adoration of younger girls wouldn't transcript to college. And he knew his friends wouldn't waddle after him. He knew he’d be alone again.
He stayed quiet. The only thing consoling the immediate silence in the small circle you made, was the chatter of other students placed around the cafeteria. Heeseung’s heart courses unsteady blood through the canyons of his uneasy stomach as he exhales a rocky breath.
“Whatever” he murmurs into the sunshine, leaving you and his friends behind as he walks out of the large lunch hall.
///
The school days became more steady and quiet. No clouds in the sky, and no interruptions during lunch. No dumb comments when you spoke in class, and certainly no cocky notes in your locker.
You didn’t see Sunghoon’s and Jay’s smiley faces waving at you anymore as you sat down at your usual lunch table with Niki, Jungwon and Yunjin, since they didn’t sit behind you anymore. At first you wondered why, but you just assumed it was a blessing from the god above. Not that you hated Sunghoon or Jay, you could never, it was more about the boy you despised.
Sunghoon and you used to date, and you knew he couldn’t get enough of the comments Heeseung made about it on a daily basis. He started using it as an insult, and scolding him everytime he tried to help you after one of Heeseung’s foolish pranks. The reality of your relationship was pretty sad. Cause not only is Heeseung using it as a taunt towards your now ex boyfriend, but he was the authentic reason for your breakup. He felt as if you stole his best-friend from him, so he made your lover choose between you or him. The choice is probably obvious by now. I mean he had no certainty this love would last.
“It’s been pretty quiet without Heeseung coming around, hm?” Yunjin whispered, doodling hearts around her English worksheet. A smile perks up on her lips as she writes Jake's name in one of them.
“Well, finally”you reply shortly, focusing on the question before you. You twirl the pen between your fingers, as Yunjin chuckles softly.
“Weren’t you used to it by now? I mean isn’t it weird to not have him spill drinks on you anymore?” she nagged you once again, knocking you out of your trance.
“Who wouldn't be used to it? But I definitely do not miss having wet hair and clothes for the rest of the day”you smile, and write down one of the answers.
Of course you felt like something was missing, but you’d never actually admit it. You knew something was missing, but coming to the full realization of what that was, belittled you.
“Didn’t you ever like Heeseung? Like at some point you had to like him. Especially when you two were practically besties!”she exclaimed, and you had to hit her, afraid Jay might hear.
Jay sat next to Yeonjun, head in hands. You snook secretive glances at the boy, and he seemed just as confused as you were. He kept asking his deskmate for answers but from what it looked like, he didn't have them either.
“I don’t know, Yunjin. Maybe, but it surely wasn’t anything big. You know, Heeseung used to be pretty fucking cool back then”you smiled, your mind rushing back to the memory of freshman Heeseung.
“Niki was so jealous of him, I’ll never forget that” Yunjin giggled, and grabbed your pink highlighter to color in her heart dedicated to Jake.
She smiled as the heart filled with a bright pink color, fading her boyfriend's name a bit, but she made sure to correct it right after.
“Don’t you ever hang out with Heeseung? Especially since you spend so much time with Jake?” you asked curiously.
She chuckled and shook her head.
“We never hang out with a third person. We’d probably make them really uncomfortable,“ she answers, and you laugh along with her.
“Back to you, Jake told me Heeseung doesn’t even talk about you anymore. Can you believe that?” she huffed, as if it should have offended you.
You shrugged. The less embarrassing things Jake, Sunghoon or Jay knew about you, the better. But you wondered why he’d talk about you in the first place.
“He’s also been really secretive lately. They were supposed to go play some games at Jay’s, but he bailed out. Jake said he never does that '' she exclaimed dramatically.
“I really don’t care, Yunjin. Maybe he finally realized what a shit person he truly is” you explain, and she just laughs.
“I hope so too” she whispered a short response “Are you still coming to the game? I finally convinced Niki to come ‘see his friend throw a ball around’ ”she made air quotes, and you chuckled.
“Yeah, me and Jungwon wanted to go from the start anyways” you say, and she squeals excitedly.
///
“Can we sit here?” Sunghoon’s voice caught your attention, as he stood alongside Jay and Jake.
Yunjins face lit up at the boy standing in front of her “Yes!” she squealed, and clung onto Jake’s side “You never sit with me at lunch, baby” she murmured into his chest, and he giggled.
“She’s right, you guys never sit here. What happened to mood killer Heeseung?” Jungwon asked, and they shrugged, just as curious as him.
You looked around the cafeteria, but in fact a six foot, blue haired man was nowhere to be seen. You always wondered why he chose a hair color that could potentially make him look like an idiot amongst the towns people, but you couldn't lie and say it didn't fit him.
“He’s not here, and he’s not answering our calls, I think he’s skipping,” Sunghoon said tiredly.
“I heard he’s been ditching you guys quite often lately” Niki asserted sarcastically , picking at his lunch uninterested.
His parents cut off his money after he failed his math exam, so he no longer had the option to buy out the whole buffet. He was stuck with the disgusting, soggy food the school offered for free.
“Yeah, he has. I don’t want to offend anyone, but after the lunch incident it’s like something has changed in him,”Jay said, being a witness of the scene.
“Why would I be offended by all people, the more freedom, the better” you said, and Jay silently agreed with you.
Getting rid of the fear's tight grip, really washed a lot of other things off of you. It made you so much more comfortable and especially much cleaner, literally and practically. But his sudden ignorance and complete change in demeanor wasn’t all pluses, but maybe it was too early for you to realize that.
“Seriously I should've studied for that exam” Niki muttered, pushing his plate of soggy pasta away. He reached for his backpack but found nothing edible inside.
“What’s wrong with him? That pasta used to be the highlight of my day in freshman year” Jay hummed.
“There is something seriously wrong with you, man”Niki responded “That pasta tastes like battery acid, and maybe like the crumbs on my bed on a good day”
“You eat the crumbs you find in your bed?” Sunghoon asks, disgusted.
Another red flag Niki carried around with him.
“Yeah, you don’t? I thought everyone eats the crumbs in their bed” he said, and nobody agreed.
“First of all, I wash my bedsheets and don’t eat in my bed” Sunghoon said, and Niki scoffed.
“You’re seriously mentally ill, all of you actually. Bedsheets are supposed to be changed every two months or maybe every month if I feel generous”he educates them.
“Me and Y/n once slept over at your house, and I woke up with crumbs in my ass” Jungwon said, and Niki rolled his eyes.
“Could have slept on the floor then”Niki asserted, and sneaked one of Yunjins fries into his mouth. She was way too occupied with Jake to even notice or have any awareness of the people around her “Okay I think we should stop talking about my crumbs now, please”
“Trust me, no one wants to know about your disgusting ass habits,” Jungwon sniggered.
Somehow you found yourself looking around the hall for that one familiar face, yet as good as your vision was, you couldn’t spot him anywhere. Why did you want to see him so bad?
“What about you, Y/n?” Jay asked, and you had no idea what the initial conversation was even about.
Jay had changed the subject, moving on from Niki a long time ago, but your mind was focused on something, or rather someone else.
“What?”
“I asked what you plan on doing after graduation” he smiled, and you pushed your focus back onto the group around you.
“I don’t know yet. I do want to go to college, a lot actually, but what for, I’m still trying to figure that out” you said quickly. Jay nodded understandingly.
“What about a boyfriend?” he smirked and nugged Sunghoon. He just rolled his eyes and moved away from the boy.
“I don't think I need one at the moment”you answered with a smile.
It went quiet as Jungwon's face changed drastically. He saw something others couldn't make out just yet.
“Speaking of boyfriends and girlfriends,, is that fucking Miyoung?”Jungwon exclaimed, and the mention of her name made Yunjin jump away from Jake’s arms.
“What are you talking about?”she said, her body trembling. Her heart began racing as Jungwon pointed to the entry door.
You didn’t want to look, suspecting the outcome.
“So that's where he went,”Sunghoon laughed, and before he could call them over, Niki stopped him. Sunghoon quickly realized, and gave up on that idea.
“No way he actually started dating Miyoung, isn’t she like a total bitch” Jay said, directing his words towards Yunjin.
“She is the most awful person I’ve ever met,” Yunjin said, her gaze still glued to the couple.
“Well that explains why Heeseung’s dating her now,” Jungwon chuckled.
There was the confirmation you didn’t necessarily want.
Heeseung and Miyoung are dating now.
“So that’s why he doesn’t bother you anymore! He doesn't want to make his girlfriend jealous” Jay exclaimed, you just laughed quietly, and tried to completely cut out your friend's words with the company of your own phone.
“This has got to be a serious one if he gave up on teasing Y/n” Sunghoon said.
As much as it made you happy he left you alone, the reason behind it did not fire up that same emotion in you. But you could not stop life from moving onwards, and if this is what makes him satisfied then so be it, right?
“Why did you stop being friends with her anyways, Yunjin?”
…
“I can’t, me and Miyoung are going to the movies” Yunjin said excitedly, but you couldn't quite return her feeling.
Once again, you were being ditched for Miyoung, and it felt pretty fucking shit. It felt as if Yunjin was drifting away from you for some new girl she barely knew. But you couldn’t stop her, she was your best friend and her happiness was your priority.
So when Yunjin and Miyoung were enjoying the movies you and she loved, Heeseung was by your side. He listened, and helped you cope with the pain of being replaced. You remember him holding your hand so tightly, telling you how much you mean to many people, and to never doubt Yunjins platonic love for you. It was a new thing for you and him. You were usually at each other's side when exams came, and when he competed for the gold medal, but never when a crisis striked.
You wondered why he did it. Did he just feel bad for you and didn’t want to make you more miserable when you came to him?
Miyoung was your complete opposite, she was more like Yunjin. That’s why they connected so fast. You envied their friendship despite the fact you were still considered Yunjins best friend.
When Heeseung heard all about Miyoung, he couldn't hold back the shit he had to say about her. Every bad thing he recognized within her, from him, sounded fifty times worse. It was his way of helping you realize Yunjin will grasp that soon enough too.
And he was right. Miyoung had nothing but bad intentions towards Yunjin.
…
Maybe seeing him all over Miyoung hurt ten times more because he was there for you when no one else was. He was there when his now girlfriend wanted to tear your friendship apart.
///
“You’ve been acting really off recently” Jay commented, while you two accompanied each other on the walk back home.
Jay lived in the same apartment complex as you, but you never cared enough to notice him. Usually it was only you and Niki ignoring the rest of your neighbors.
“I think it’s just your imagination, Jay '' you laughed, and took another bite out of Jay's candy bar.
He made a sad and offended face when half of his chocolate bar was gone.
“No seriously, even Jungwon noticed, and I trust him”he said.
“You and Jungwon really hit it off, hm?”you asked, trying to bring the spotlight off of you.
You guessed it worked when Jay's face lit up “Yeah, we did! He actually seems to like spending time with me”
“We all love spending time with you and everyone else, Jay” you smiled brightly, and he laughed.
It was true. Ever since Heeseung completely cut them off for his girlfriend's company, your friend group adopted them. Yunjin couldn't be more happy now that she got to spend every second of her day with Jake. And you felt happy cause they gave you the little unreal pieces of Heeseung you found yourself missing.
Seeing him with Miyoung, turned something upside down in you. It didn’t let you function properly and it felt like you've hit rock bottom. You couldn't help but wonder, why her? Although anybody else wouldn't make the growing feeling in your stomach any better. It was still a new thing to you, and you couldn't quite put into words what it was.
“Do you miss Heeseung? Or at least the person he used to be?”you asked, and Jay wasn’t expecting you to be the one to initiate a conversation about Heeseung.
“Well obviously. We still talk, but it isn't the same at all. I really want to go back to the day when it all went downhill, maybe I could've done something,”he answered with a fabricated confidence.
“Don’t blame yourself for something you can't control,” you said, holding his hand. It was a habit you picked up from the one and only Heeseung himself. “For the short time I knew Heeseung, he’s just like that. You never know what's coming until it's already done”
“Short time? You and him were constantly talking in freshman, I’m really shocked you didn't catch feelings for him back then”he laughed.
Feelings. Now you realize that maybe after all you did like Heeseung. It came to you after you found yourself reminiscing on the memories you shared. He used to mean a lot to you, and when he started changing his demeanor towards you, it wasn't easy to let go. You tried to fix it but you didn't have any tools. You just had to buy a replacement, but there weren't any others like him in stock. That’s why you started dating Sunghoon, because he was the closest you could've gotten to Heeseung.
“I don't think I catch feelings that easily,”you laughed.
Lie.
You lay in your bed helplessly, the sheets clinging onto your sweaty body. Your room elopes you in a constant darkness, and the wind blows softly through your open window. You can’t focus on anything, your heartbeat picking up at every sharp inhale.
Your mind was racing from one thing to another, but someone who stayed consistently flooding your brain was Heeseung. Because you have finally come to the realization this was never about Miyoung or the childish pranks, it was about him.
It was an untypical connection you longed to study.
///
“I know what's going on so you either say it yourself, or I’ll just be blunt about it right now” Niki said through the speaker of your phone as you kept on straining from the real purpose of the call.
You trusted Niki, but this is something bigger than the time you told him about Sunoo. Back then the only thing you two could do about it was laugh and make up fake scenarios with you as the main character.
“If we both know then why talk about it? It doesn't matter anyway” you murmured, fiddling with the settings of your fan.
“Because I want to help you, and if you don’t tell me the full thing I have nothing to stand on” he explained, and you sighed.
On one hand, you wanted to hear Nikis advice, but would that really help? Would any of this really help your already fucked up situation?
“I don’t even know where to start, Niki” you said and he let out a sound of understandment.
“Just tell me everything, don’t hold back. You can trust me with this” he told you after a brief moment of silence.
You stayed quiet, attempting to process everything through. The admission alone was hard enough, but spilling out the truth to one of your bestfriends was the real challenge.
“Niki, I’m not sure myself, if what I feel is real. I’m wondering if any of this is real” you started softly, and he kept quiet signalizing for you to continue. “I want to have him all for myself, and I know it’s selfish, but what can I do anyways”
“Do you seriously want this?” he asked.
“I don’t know Niki, I don’t know anything just yet” you responded.
“I think it’s okay to not have answers,” he assured.
There was nothing that could help your blossoming feelings for Heeseung. Even after he embarrassed you on multiple occasions you couldn't do anything but fall deeper in love with him. Maybe it’s because you still had the feeling his freshman self was still somewhere inside of him under the pile of shit he’s been consuming lately.
“Okay” you mutter. “Just be realistic with me” you ask of him, and he nods understandingly.
“I would never lie to you, Y/n” he whispers “Just follow your gut, okay? I know that may be hard, but if you actually want to try, do it. There's nothing to lose here anyways” he says.
You nod, unable to say anything. It’s weird, the feeling you're experiencing. It leaves you uneasy, the thought of your current situation. You’re unsure of anything going on.
“I want you to be nothing but happy, if it's with him, or anyone else, but sometimes things don't go the way we want them to because we don't trust ourselves” he adds, noticing you've been awfully quiet.
“I don’t want to embarrass myself again, Niki '' you mutter.
What were you thinking, seriously? Heeseung was the unreachable boy, only the prettiest girls of this school could have. Miyoung was one of them, drop dead gorgeous, skinny with porcelain skin. You didn’t see those features in yourself, but maybe it was just your insecurities getting the best of you.
“You can’t embarrass yourself if you don't even try. Even if you do, what's wrong with that? You know you have us, we’ll never make fun of you” he assured with a soft smile.
“Is it even worth it? I mean I don't have any assurance this would last if anything. What if we just went back to hating each other, and I’m left all alone again” you ask, and he shakes his head.
He gets closer to the camera, head in hands. “Just because of what happened with Sunghoon, doesn't mean you have to kill any hope you have of a relationship with others. That's not how it works” he tells you softly. “Just trust yourself, and the process, okay?”
///
You had a goal.
Win Heeseung back by graduation.
You always considered yourself to be a competitive person, not exactly in the right field, but competitiveness always lingered somewhere in your gut. And that’s exactly why you would do anything to feel his touch again.
It didn't take you long to realize you took his teasing for granted. Your mind was begging for him to leave you alone, but your heart perhaps liked the constant attention, and the fact he’d think about you more than anyone. It was stupid, but what could you do? It was hard not to miss the not-so sweet nicknames he’d give you. It was hard not to miss his dumb pranks and sweet laughter.
How were you going to reach your goal? You didn’t exactly know. You just decided to follow your gut, just as Niki said days before. Maybe you were reaching too far, but what's wrong in admiring the stars?
“Sunoo said the team has been actually working hard this month. I’m starting to gain hope in our schools first win” Niki said, clicking away at the Superstar SM on his phone “Fuck, I lost” he groaned.
“Only the best can do Kick It on hard mode” Jay shrugged, receiving a death stare from Niki, who loaded up the song again.
“I don’t think you should get your hopes up too high, Niki. Sunoo said that last time, and guess what?They lost” Sunghoon murmured, copying Jake's chemistry notes.
You silently agreed with Sunghoon. The only reason you all tagged along for the game was the free food your school was giving out on match day. It was probably their way of compensating for the awful game our football team was about to present to us.
“You’re seriously so bad at this, '' Jay laughed, and pulled out his own phone when he saw Niki lose once again.
“Don’t be a show off, I’m just having a bad day. Look, I literally have two stars on Cherry Bomb” he shoved the phone into Jays face.
“Stop being annoying, Niki” Jungwon commented, and the boy looked like he was about to kill him.
“It’s not my fault, he started it!” he said, offended.
“I just got an S level Doyoung!” Jay squealed.
“No way, you’re such a liar, '' Niki said, sliding over to Jay's side.
While the two boys were preoccupied with the beloved game, and Jake was busy keeping Yunjin her special company, Sunghoon and Jungwon were copying Jay's notes, you couldn't stop looking over at Heeseungs table. He seemed to find himself new friends amongst Miyoungs circle. He sat there laughing with Kwangsun and Taehyun, keeping his arm around Miyoung.
Kwangsun and Taehyun were Jakes teammates so you knew them very well. Not only were they the worst on the swimming team, they also had the worst personality. Talking to them was like talking to a wall, they lacked any sense of humor and interest in the world around them. You wondered how Heeseung was talking to them so comfortably. Probably because they weren't responding so it didn't even matter what he said.
“How are you feeling? Everything alright?” Sunghoon asked, keeping his eyes on the notebook. He didn’t look at what he was writing down, just blindly copied Jay's work.
“I’m okay? Why are you even asking?” you answer with a question.
He laughs, and drops the pen. Jungwon takes the opportunity, and slides the notebook closer to himself.
“You’ve been awfully quiet, you know?” he states softly.
“You shouldn't worry about me, Sunghoon. I see you have a lot more to copy, seriously do it before lunch ends” you say trying to change the subject.
Was Sunghoon suspecting something? Did he know something you didn’t? It was hard to tell, and that was making you even more stressed than you already were.
“I’m your friend, I worry about you, Y/n. But i respect it if you don’t want to talk about it now” he smiles and picks up his blue pen “Give that book back” he groans, and slides the book back over to the middle.
“This is unfair, I can barely see what's written there!” Jungwon fights, but the boy next to him just shrugs.
Were your friends catching on? Were you really that obvious?
“Life is still going on, three rainbow stars, beat that” Jay exclaimed, a cocky tone to his voice.
Life is still going on, right.
///
“I’ve been waiting for this for so long!” Niki exclaimed happily, as his eyes scanned the buffet in front of the football field's bleachers. He looked like he was ready to stuff his face any moment now.
“Don’t get too excited, we might not be able to pack you into my car after this” Jay said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Very funny, Jayshit. Let a man enjoy his food” Niki responded, grabbing the first pastry in sight. “Sunoo claimed some really good seats for us, by the way” he added bluntly.
“Maybe you really are useful sometimes, Niki,” Jake said, and got a middle finger in return.
“I remember last time we got some nosebleeds,” Jungwon said, helping Niki sneak half of the buffet into his backpack.
“This is why I am always useful,” Niki said, smiling at Jake.
“That makes no sense, if you were useful you’d get the good seats too last game” Jake asserted.
“Shut up, Jake. Don’t you have a girlfriend to take care of?” Niki rolled his eyes.
You chuckled at his child-like behavior, and grabbed Jay’s drink to take a sip yourself.
“What's up with you and always stealing my shit, get some yourself” Jay said, and jerked the drink away from you. You laugh, and smile at him.
You look around for any familiar faces, but it seems as if no one has arrived yet. That's what you get for being two hours early, just because Niki can't miss out on the strawberry donuts.
“Isn’t that Miyoung, and Heeseung? I thought he hated football” Jake chuckles.
They're here too? It can't get worse can it?
“Miyoung likes it. Her brother is on the team” Yunjin says, and Jake nods.
You drop your head to the ground, and start playing with the strings of your hoodie. Maybe if you don’t say anything you’ll sulking will go unnoticed.
“He hasn’t talked to us for a good two weeks. He really is down bad” Sunghoon comments.
“Do you think Miyoung forbade him from talking to us?” Jay asked, hoping for Yunjin to answer, since her brief friendship with the girl might allow her to know.
“She usually does when she doesn't like her partner's friends” Yunjin fulfilled Jay's wish.
“Why so? Especially since I have probably never talked to her” Sunghoon said, a confused look spread on his face.
“I wish I knew that one,” Yunjin said.
Seeing Heeseung with her was different for you this time. It's like something turned inside of you. Maybe it was because of the fact he loves her enough to sit through a game he hates with his whole soul and heart. You wonder if he’d do the same for you.
The scenery was beautiful. The sound of soft chatter and the summer breeze swayed through your features. The sun hid behind the clouds, the only source of light being the large lamps placed around the field. It was the perfect highschool cliche, but your mind was constantly at war with the bound feelings. It never left you alone. Before you fell asleep, while you ate breakfast, while you showered or brushed your teeth. He always flooded your brain.
“I think I’ll get in a quick bathroom stop before this mess starts” you smile, and get up from your seat next to Jungwon.
“You want me to go with you?” Yunjin asks, averting her gaze from Jake to you.
“Sorry, I don’t really feel like making you hear me pee, I’ll be back soon” you smile, and Yunjin just giggles, setting her head back on Jake’s soft shoulder.
You can’t look at her being happy with him anymore. It makes you want to throw up.
The gentle sound of the latest pop hits poured from the speakers mounted in every corner of the school building as you made your way to the restroom, feeling helpless. Various students hastily made their way to the field.
Yeah, sure, you did hate him. But one look at said enemy, all those words could be shoved out the window.
The air felt so heavy, as you sat on the sinks marble. No matter how hard you searched, there still was no answer. There was no escape and you’ve already lost any control of yourself. You were going insane each sleepless night thinking about him.
You looked into the mirror's reflection and didn’t recognize yourself anymore. Have you changed out of your own pure will, or was it because maybe you weren’t enough for Heeseung when he left. Was it the way you looked, acted or was it any of your other flaws? There’s no answer.
You completely lost track of time, but nobody seemed to be looking for you anyways.
A quiet sound echoed through the bathroom. You didn't even bother to look, expecting Yunjins voice to hit your ears anytime now.
“Do you know how much I hate you?” a so familiar voice reaches your ear.
It still hasn’t hit you. The same person you were bawling your eyes out over, was so close to your helpless figure, yet the calmness of your heart didn’t let the feeling sink in just yet. It was probably the years of Heeseung’s torment that made you believe he was here only to return to his old antics.
You can’t bear to look at him. It’ll just go full circle, and explode, really.
“No” you respond, still avoiding eye contact.
“Words can’t describe” he says, and you can feel him smile. “I go fucking insane whenever I think of you” he added breathily.
You shiver at the harshness in his voice. You didn’t remember it being so coarse.
“Don’t do this, Heeseung” your voice shakes.
“Look at me,” he whispers, and harshly lifts your chin up to make you eye to eye with him.
A long drawn-out sigh from the bottom of his chest leaves him. He slowly lowered his head, and immediately froze in position; making the closeness between you much more intimate. The air around you felt warmer as his eyes pierced through you, studying every detail of your face.
“I’ll show you just how much I hate you” he finally speaks,
Any thoughts you had before Heeseung stepped into the pity party you were hosting in the bathroom, flew right out as his lips smashed into your soft and delicate ones. Your heart heaves uneasily, as you give into the feeling of him against you.
The kiss is lustfull, full of anger he had stored up ever since you went separate ways. He didn’t hold back, his tongue relentlessly prying your mouth open until you gave into his action. The lack of oxygen pulled you apart, your mouth still open from the initial shock.
Yet his lips felt like a magnet; pulling you closer and closer, un-allowing any resistance. You couldn’t stop yourself, leaning over again, wanting to feel his soft lips once again. There really was no turning back.
“Could Sunghoon make you feel this good?” he asked breathlessly, as his lips planted softs kisses on your jawline.
“No” you breathe out, and he smiles.
“That’s what I thought” he smirked, caressing your warm cheek.
Even the mere thought of you and Sunghoon made him burn inside. He liked having you all to himself. Sharing was never an option.
It suddenly hit you.
“Heeseung, why are you doing this?” you asked, backing away from the boy, throwing his hands off your face, feeling a sudden disconnection between the two of you.
“You know how obsessed I am with you?” he whispered, maintaining eye contact. “You remember when you asked me to leave you alone, because you wanted to have just a little bit of fun before graduation?”
You nodded, not knowing exactly what this was about. Hearing all the sweet, yet concerning things that came out of his mouth, made you want to forgive him right there and then without any good explanation to the years of hell he gave you.
“It made me realize, you know, maybe I wanted you more than I thought I did” he finished and although he tried to maintain a dominant act, you could still see his sly smile peek through.
You couldn't give into him that fast.
“Oh so you decided to start dating Miyoung? Makes so much sense Lee Heeseung” you scoffed, trying to intimidate him at least a little bit.
It obviously didn’t work because Heeseung seemed to be unfazed by your words.
“Feelings get caught up in the mind” he said calmly “But loving you long makes it feel a little better”
Whatever he was trying to say didn’t matter, because really you didn’t care. You weren’t gonna lose the opportunity you’ve been manifesting ever since he left.
“Promise this is the last time you pull this type of shit?” you ask after a minute of silence.
Heeseung lets out an airy laugh and smiles. He lifts up his pinky finger, and intertwines it with yours.
“Promise”
Heeseung really wasn’t that tough after all.
///
Heeseung can’t exactly go back to the moment he started to fall in love with you. Maybe it was the day you helped him with his math homework, or maybe the time you cheered him on while he competed in the archery finals.
But he knows exactly when he realized it.
“You promise you won’t tell him, right?” you ask, smiling.
The two of you sat at the back of the library for your weekly study session. You’ve been giving him hints of a recent love interest, and as an unusually curious man he wanted to know more.
“Who's he, just tell me! And I know him, interesting” he laughs.
“It’s Sunghoon. Yes, your best friend Park Sunghoon” you announce and he feels his heart drop. He hoped you’d take him by surprise, and let the words, ‘You Heeseung, it’s you whom I like’ leave your lips. But it was Sunghoon.
Fucking Sunghoon.
Of course, he wouldn’t let this ruin his friendship with Sunghoon. He was sure his friend didn’t even like you back, and soon enough he could be helping you get up after the heartbreak.
But what he didn’t expect was for you two to actually start dating.
At first he held all his anger in, trying his best to avoid any contact with you. Soon it turned into ignorance, and he found himself completely overlooking you. He thought of it as the better way out. When it got to the point he couldn't look past anymore, he made Sunghoon choose, knowing what would be the result of it. Sunghoon chose him, but you submitted to the feeling of hatred.
///
Now, after all this time, Heeseung could watch you bicker with your friends over the tiniest things with his own eyes. He could finally sit down at your usual spot in the library and receive the most prized tutoring from you once again. He could watch you accept your diploma, and run back to him with the biggest smile on your face.
Expressing love for you was different. Years of uncountable pranks, and hateful messages were all just the sweet feeling in disguise.
#heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung#heeseung angst#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enha#jay#jake#niki#sunoo#jungwon#sunghoon#heeseung scenarios#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enhypen smau
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For a Paul imagine: reader has a date night planned, and it would be the first time in a while. But, Paul forgets and switches patrol shifts with someone else. Reader waits up, but eventually realizes Paul forgot and goes to bed.
A/N: Thank you for this one, LOVED writing it. But ummmmmm it gets a lil spicy and they don’t even rly fight so I honestly failed at my own game. He’s just too persuasive, you know? Even the him that I create from my very own thoughts 🫣🙄
CONTENT WARNING: sexual implications, body licking/biting, heavy on the sexy vibez purrr
[All dressed up, just for me?]
The pack’s patrols have been endless lately. A small group of slightly-too-interested bloodsuckers had been circling in around the Olympic Peninsula, and had unfortunately plucked off a couple of fisherman who had been out on their boats right off the beach. Sam and Jacob wanted all hands on deck for perimeter patrolling, and your imprinted lover, Paul Lahote, was their right hand man. You couldn’t remember the last time that Paul had been home for more than a night in a row, and you’d gotten quite used to -although not happy with- the feeling of an empty bed. You and Paul hadn’t gone farther than a few handsy make-outs in over a week, with Paul typically passing out as soon as he was home and only being woken from his sleep with a phone call from Jacob, or a howl coming from the forest outside the house early in the morning. The other day, you’d expressed to Paul how much you felt you needed a date night.
Paul had been exhausted, home for the first time in two days and apparently barely coherent. “Yeah! Um…,” He had yawned, lazily stretching out his lanky, muscular body and throwing his arm around you as he laid next to you in the bed, “Let’s go to dinner…Saturday night, we can do uh - oh, dinner at the Riverside?”
He had scratched his head, his eyes blinking as he stared across the room at the TV playing a movie.
“That sounds amazing.” You had happily sighed against him, feeling reassured that Paul had seemingly made an effort. You knew he loved you so deeply, and you knew there was nothing that could ever pull him away from you, what with his imprinting causing him to only truly ever see you. But, at the end of the day, the Alpha’s commands came first, and if the pack needed Paul, he was there in a heartbeat. Those commands came so often lately that you weren’t sure Paul even had a moment to realize that he hadn’t paid much attention to you. You’d been helping around the reservation, going to your job at the local farmer’s market, and hanging out with Emily throughout the long days.
Emily had even asked you how you were holding up, noticing that you seemed a bit quiet when you were visiting her last week.
“What’s up, (y/n)? Everything going good with you and Paul?” she had inquired, her hawk-like eyes seeming to observe you quietly for the entirety of the time you spent kneading breaddough together at her and Sam’s kitchen table. You hadn’t met her eyes, slightly embarrassed that she had so easily seen through your facade of…okay-ness.
“Oh, yeah! Yeah, no everything’s good,” You had proclaimed with a little too much enthusiasm, putting more force into your kneading as your internalized emotions presented themselves. Emily had stopped moving, staring at you intently from across the table. You had continued to knead your dough vigorously for several more moments, feeling her eyes burning into you, before you paused as well and finally looked up to meet her gaze.
“Okay…,” You mumbled, your shoulders slumping in defeat, “So everything is not good.” To your surprise, a wave of relief had washed over you as you finally said the words out loud. You had been going crazy, not entirely sure if the lack of affection and attention was in your head, or if you were being selfish, or if it was simply a reality you needed to accept as the pack’s Third in Command’s ‘imprintee’. Emily had nodded slowly, a knowing and empathetic smile creeping onto her lips.
“(y/n)… it’s not easy being an imprintee, I get it. Sam’s been gone every night, too. And if he’s not gone, he’s thinking about being gone, and thinking about who he needs to tell to go on shift. But it’s truly not a reflection of their love for us, I can promise you that.” She spoke in a soft and low voice, staring at you with her gentle brown eyes.
You shook your head, starting to poke at the bread dough again, “I don’t know, Em. It’s like he doesn’t even see me right now.”
She nodded understandingly, “Oh, (y/n),” She murmured, a sad and careful look in her eyes. “Because his soul is attached to yours so deeply, (y/n). You are part of him. He may genuinely, honestly forget that you are two separate beings sometimes, that you are a human who can’t hear his thoughts and know how deeply he loves you ALL the time. He may be so comfortable and happy with you that he forgets you aren’t part of the whole wolf thing, too. It sounds silly, but he’s still a man, after all, underneath all the magic and power.”
You smiled as you remembered Emily’s words, feeling more at ease as you prepared for your date with Paul. There’s nothing to worry about, you told yourself. You stared at your reflection in the mirror now, as you finished doing your hair. It was now Saturday evening, and you were waiting for Paul to finish his day shift. Dinner at the Riverside Restaurant - that was the plan for tonight. Paul had suggested it himself, so you felt reassured that tonight would be a good thing for the two of you. You were giddy with excitement, happy with how you look and looking forward to some long-awaited intimacy with him. You slid into a dress that Paul hadn’t seen yet, a silky spaghetti-strap number with a high leg slit up the right thigh, showing off a generous amount of long, toned leg. You decided to make it a bit more alluring and added a sparkly leg chain from your drawer, one you’d never worn, pulling it up and around your thighs and ass under the dress. You strode over to the floor length mirror in the corner of the room, nudging the dress down to sit perfectly against you, and adjusted your hair. You felt pretty. In fact, you looked pretty damn hot, and you knew without a doubt that Paul would think so too. He never failed to act shocked and overly impressed at your appearance, even when he woke up next to you every day and saw you at your greasiest, or most exhausted.
You grabbed your phone off the dresser next to the mirror, glancing at the time. 6:18pm. Paul usually gets off shift around 5:30, and you wondered for a brief moment if there could’ve been some emergency causing him to be late. Your face paled and you felt your heart rate increase the moment you let yourself consider he could be in danger. Nonetheless, his job was insanely dangerous, and it crossed your mind whether you liked it or not.
You quickly shot him a text.
Hey! Comin home soon?
You decided to try and busy yourself while waiting for him to arrive. You sprayed your favorite perfume on, checked your makeup and hair one last time, and went down the stairs of the cozy house. A crackling fire always helped you relax. You grabbed some of the wood Paul had carried inside the other day, and started to get a fire going in the living room fireplace. Paul had taught you quite well how to make a fire, and you were proud of yourself when you got it going relatively quickly. You lit your favorite candle as well, and decided you’d take the extra bit of time before Paul got home to clean up the house. You figured since he’s been so busy, and so tired, a clean place would be a nice gift for him to come home to. And, keeping your hands busy always helped time pass faster for you. Cleaning felt therapeutic at the moment. You got to work, vacuuming the living room, putting the clean dishes away, and throwing a load of laundry into the washing machine, folding and putting away the clothes from the dryer. You left your phone on loud, knowing that you’d either get a message from him or he’d walk through the front door any minute now. After you finished making the house nearly spotless, added another log onto the fire, and still hadn’t received a message from him, you decided to check the time again. Surprisingly, over an hour had passed, and it was 7:30. You were starting to worry.
You clicked Paul’s contact, calling him. After 6 rings, you heard the beginning of his voicemail - ‘I’m busy, you know what to do’ his gruff and cocky voice came through on the recording. You hung up before the beep, rolling your eyes. You stared down at your phone. Exhaling slowly, you tried to think of reasons why he wouldn’t be answering your text OR call, and would also be late for the date. You tried desperately to not let your mind go to horrible places, and decided to text Emily.
(Y/N): Hey Em- is everything okay with the boys? No answer from Paul, we had a date planned tonight.
Within the minute, Emily responded:
Emily: Sam stopped by only half an hour ago before he went back out, said everything was going fine… maybe call one of the boys? pretty sure Embry took tonight off, he’ll have his phone.
You stared down at her message for a few moments, relief washing over you once you realized that the pack wasn’t in any life threatening danger, but confusion hitting you in it’s place when you realized that that would mean there was nothing stopping Paul from getting home over an hour ago. You swallowed, trying to calm yourself. You flicked through your text conversations until you came to Embry’s name, and tapped the icons until you were calling him.
It rang twice, then Embry’s soft voice came through the phone speaker.
“(Y/n)! What’s up, honey?” Embry was always a sweetheart to you; all of the boys were. You knew they all loved you deeply, and it was hard for them not to - they could hear and feel all of the thoughts that Paul had for you.
“Hey! Um- just wondering, do you know where Paul is?? We had a date planned for tonight and he should’ve been home a while ago…,” You said into the phone, running your fingers through your long hair and starting to pace around the living room, your bare feet padding across the thick carpeted floor. You heard silence for a moment too long.
“Embry? You there?” You asked, unsure if you’d lost connection.
“Uh yeah, (y/n), sorry…I’m here. I, I-didn’t know you guys had a date… I asked Paul if we could trade shifts cuz it’s my Mom’s birthday tomorrow and she wanted to celebrate tonight. He said no problem and that he had nothing goin’ on. I’m sorry, if I’d known I would’ve never asked him,” Embry’s sympathetic voice came through the phone, and your heart dropped.
“Oh…,” you murmured, trying to push aside the sudden onset of shocked pain that washed over you, “No worries, Embry, it wasn’t your job to know about it. Thanks for telling me. I hope you guys have a nice celebration tonight… tell your Mom I said Happy Birthday, yeah?”
“Aw man, (y/n), I’m really sorry, I’m sure he just forgot, you know? He’s rly gonna hear it from me for this one, though, don’t you worry. The guy’s gonna wish he remembered…and yeah, thanks, I’ll tell my Mom,” Embry responded lightheartedly, his tone sincere.
You managed a light chuckle, “Thanks, Em - I’ll see you soon, have a good night.”
After you hung up with Embry, you stood for a moment in the same spot in the living room and let your arms fall, your phone slipping from your hand onto the couch. You felt just about everything you could feel: anger, hurt, betrayal, confusion, disappointment. Above all else though, you felt alone. You seemed to be chronically alone, lately. This was the one thing you’d asked for. After weeks of Paul prioritizing the pack, which you’d understood and had patience for, you had finally expressed that you missed him; that you needed this. That something was missing. You knew now that he hadn’t been truly hearing you. You exhaled loudly, falling back onto the couch dramatically, and stared at the loudly crackling fire in front of you. For a few minutes, you sat stuck in your thoughts, unsure what to do with yourself. Suddenly, your phone dinged loudly. You quickly reached for it, turning it upright to see the screen. You were slightly disappointed to see a text from Emily instead of Paul, your anxiety having built up as you sat in silence, but then felt comforted at the fact that your best friend was always in your corner.
Emily: Did Embry answer! Where’s Paul?
You sighed, reading the message, and began to type back.
(Y/N): Paul apparently gladly took Embry’s shift when he asked to trade. Said he had ‘nothing going on’
You saw the (…) bubble pop up, showing you that Emily had begun typing the moment your text sent.
Emily: Wtf. Paul can be such an airhead, I swear! I’m sure he forgot, (y/n), hope you don’t think for a second that he’d ever do that on purpose
(Y/N): Oh, I know. There just seems to be a lot of forgetting happening recently
:( wearing a new dress and everything
Emily: :( love you (y/n) <3 I bet you look bangin, lady! Call me if u need me okay? Maybe take a bath or something, do a self care night, ya know?
You almost smiled at Emily’s text, and would have if you weren’t feeling so defeated.
(Y/N): Love you Em
You tossed your phone again to the side and decided to throw a few more logs on the fire. You ambled into kitchen, poured yourself a glass of rosé and put your favorite show on, getting under one of the massive fluffy blankets and settling in to try to relax. By 10pm, you were strewn across the big couch, the warmth of the fire having lulled you into a gentle snooze.
You woke with a start to the feeling of hot hands on your skin.
“Baby”, you heard the deep, rough voice murmur against your ear, hot breath hitting your cheek. Your eyes slowly blinked open, and you could see Paul’s massive frame over you as he knelt in front of the couch, one hand on your waist and the other caressing the back of your head.
He pulled back and smiled an immensely apologetic smile, the hand on your waist squeezing gently.
“Hi, sleepy girl,” He said softly, his rich brown eyes gentle and bashful. You didn’t respond, your brain glitching, confused and tired as you tried to piece together why you were mad at him, a difficult task when the man sat right in front of you. His features became more troubled when you didn’t respond.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, (y/n).”
You stared back at him, still not answering, and noted his shirtless torso only inches away from your face. When you peeled your eyes away from the abs and back to him, you caught his gaze stuck on your bottom half, and looked down to see what he was staring at so intently. Oh, that’s right. The dress. The slit that ran up the side of your leg was open, your entire thigh and right buttcheek exposed, and a large portion of your bikini line being put on display. You were glad you’d shaved. The faux fur blanket covered the rest of you, your half-bent leg being the one thing sticking out from under the fluffy cover. His eyes were stuck, his gaze lingering on the body chain that wrapped around your thigh, sparkling and glinting in the glowing firelight.
“(Y/n)…,” He whispered, swallowing hard. You watched as his Adam’s apple lifted up, then fell back down with the movement. His breathing hitched, and he finally flicked his eyes back to yours. His features were serious now, his brows drawn together.
“You have to know that I didn’t mean to forget, baby. I truly, honest-to-god didn’t mean to. Embry shifted like 10 minutes ago when he got home from dinner with his Mom just to let me know that you’d called him, and I had like 5 missed calls from Emily once I shifted back and…God I feel awful, (y/n), I figured if I traded shifts with Embry tonight, I’d get tomorrow off and we could spend the whole day together I-…I am so so sorry.”
You looked down, not bothering to hold his apologetic eyes, and took your bottom lip between your teeth as you absorbed his words and thought.
He bent closer, his large hand leaving your waist to caress your face, both hands framing your head now.
“I know it’s more than that, too. There’s no excuse for tonight but… I know I’ve been neglecting you, baby. I realize that now. You’ve needed me and I haven’t been there. I haven’t been there for you and I’m so, truly sorry for that. I’ll do better, I will. It’s easy to forget sometimes that just because you and I have this eternal bond, that doesn’t mean I can just forget to show you I care. And I care, (y/n), I care so much. You are who I’m thinking about when I’m out there on patrol, when I’m protecting this town. You are what gets me up every day. You’re the most important thing in my life. You know that, right?”
Throughout Paul’s rambling monologue, you had lifted your eyes, finally meeting his intense brown orbs. He held your face, gently and quietly speaking his words, not pulling his gaze away from you even for a single moment. He had brought a smile to your lips at several points in his little speech, and you felt wetness begin to prick in your eyes at his words. He had felt it too. He knew something was off between you, too. You felt an emotional release at his acknowledgment of what you’d been holding in for weeks. You could feel his love, deep and primal, radiating from him- oozing from his very being.
He continued to stare, his eyes narrowing and his hands shaking you ever so gently.
“Answer me, (y/n). You know that, right?,” he repeated, his tone and face still serious, but a glimmer of playful energy in his eyes now.
You couldn’t help but break into a wide smile now, and a light giggle fell from your mouth. His face broke into a massive grin at the sound, and he planted a hard, wet kiss on your lips, his mouth soft & hot. He groaned very lightly into the kiss, then pulled back to stare at your face again, proceeding to plant quick and delicate pecks over and over, along your mouth and then your cheeks, around your temples, down your jaw and along your throat. He kept going until you were a giggling, squealing mess beneath him. His hands fell to your waist and he gripped you against the couch, holding you hostage as he continued attacking you with his lips. “Okay, okay! Stop!” You finally broke your silence, your breathless voice coming out in begging pleads as his kisses and strong hands held you captive. He pulled back, his dark eyes now filled with a new expression. It was one you recognized, and hadn’t seen in a while. His gaze fell, trailing down your throat and along your chest, moving downwards until it fell yet again on the exposed, supple skin of your thigh. His jaw suddenly tightened, and his tongue left his mouth briefly to swipe across his bottom lip.
“Christ, (y/n). I really missed out, huh?” His eyes were still on your legs, and his left hand reached out to let the tip of his middle finger drag along the skin of your thigh. “Never seen this dress before,” he muttered, lowering his head to leave soft, hungry kisses, beginning at your knee and moving up until he reached the inner side of the open slit. He flicked his gaze up to your eyes. “You got all dressed up, just for me?”
“Mmm, really should’ve remembered our date, huh Lahote?,” You responded smugly, a smirk on your face as you took in the view of his slightly desperate expression. His eyes darkened suddenly at your words, and he moved his mouth up your body, leaving kisses wherever he could find skin. Between kisses, he murmured deeply against you, his hot breath sending waves through your core. “And what were you planning on us doing after this date, (y/n)?” His eyes shot up to your face now as he lowered his mouth down to the top of your thigh, letting his hot tongue slowly drag across the exposed flesh. You felt your face flush and your heart begin to thump harder in your chest. With his keen wolf senses, you knew he could likely hear the change in your heartbeat, and your fear was confirmed when a mischievous chuckle left his mouth.
“Mmm, yeah. That’s what I thought…,” He squeezed your thigh with his hand, the muscles in his forearm flexing, “That’s what this dress was for, huh? Is that what you’ve really been needing?” His tone was soft, his deep voice babying you, the way that only Paul knew how. He nipped softly at the flesh on your inner thigh, another rough groan escaping his lips.
You decided he didn’t get to be rewarded for his mistake so easily, and snapped your legs closed, crossing your arms over your chest and furrowing your brows. His eyes snapped up to your face, his expression darkening again. He tsked; shaking his head and scowling slightly at you. When you remained still, your arms crossed and your chin lifted in defiance, he narrowed his eyes. Then, his features softened, and he lifted his massive body so that he completely hovered over you. Heat radiated from him, and you secretly ached for him. You wanted him to lower himself down, so that all of him was touching all of you. You stared up at his face, which was now only inches from yours. He could read you like a book; he knew forgiveness came easily to you. There was no fooling him - you knew he was very likely seeing the want in your eyes. He leaned in slowly, resting his soft lips against yours tenderly. When he pulled back, he gazed at you lovingly, now going along with your feigned hesitation and apparently, full of remorse again. Oh, the games this man sure can play.
“Baby…,” he whispered, leaning in against your ear, his hot tongue swiping along the delicate skin below it.
“I’m so sorry, sweet girl. Can you forgive me?” His voice was rough, hunger for you laced throughout but with a tone that was now a beg, filled with a tangible desperation. You knew he’d do whatever it took to gain your forgiveness. And you were ready to let him beg for it for as long as you felt necessary.
A/N: I could totally go further with this. And perhaps, if I was asked nicely, I would 😏
#Paul Lahote#Paul lahote imagine#twilight#twilightxreader#Paul x reader#imagines#fanfic#paullahote#twilight imagines#fanfiction#paullahoteimagine
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The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Two
Chapter Two: The Cabin in the Woods
Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader
Word Count: 3K
Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.
Chapter Summary: You search the woods for the house you were taken to that night. It’s been hours and you’re lost. Your phone has no service, it is getting dark, and your dumbass didn’t tell anyone you were going on an adventure.
Warnings: mutual pining
A/N: A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. I really hope y’all enjoy this one. It was a tough one to write, Walter was so feisty!
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
When you arrived at the hospital, you had another nurse and colleague check out your head injury on your next shift. Armed with a clean bill of health and a brain bursting with unanswered questions, you try to go about your day.
The entirety of your workday was spent having coworkers break you out of a trance. Every few minutes, you’d gaze off into nothingness until those around you noticed and snapped their fingers in front of your face. You kept thinking about the wolf and Walter, trying to piece the two together.
After work, you change your clothes and put on your hiking boots. Even though the drive from the cabin to Liv’s house was short, that was in a vehicle. On foot, you will need to cover a lot of ground. You decided against driving your car down the road that splits the forest.
If you parked at the entrance to the forest near the park grounds, you could easily sneak back to your car and bypass the curfew checkpoint at the tree line. Not that you planned on being out until nightfall.
Parking your car in the gravel-filled lot, you tighten your scarf around your neck and start your journey into the woods. Walking takes you about ten minutes to get to the clearing where you and Olivia enjoyed wine coolers. It didn’t seem like it took you this long to get to the clearing a couple of days ago, but you don’t stay long enough to dwell on it.
Retracing your steps, you walk for another few minutes in search of the tree with the giant roots jutting out from the forest floor. After ten minutes of wandering, you think about giving up because daylight is in short supply. Looking down at your phone, you curse when you see the battery percentage looking back at you. Eleven percent wouldn’t get you far should you need to make an urgent call or use the flashlight since you forgot to bring one.
After another few minutes of traipsing through the forest, you trip over a large root and accidentally find your tree. Following the roots, you find the little alcove that you had planned to hide in during your game with Liv. You notice the setting sun as you turn to sit on the higher roots.
Taking out your phone, you realize that it had shut off due to low power. Shoving it back in your pocket, you stand up and wipe a hand down your face. You’re pissed off, cold, and now have no way to contact anyone should you need to. Anger boils your blood as you stand in the now-dark forest.
Pacing for a few seconds doesn’t calm you down. You start to hear all the little nocturnal animals coming alive and usually, you would find this peaceful. However, you would give anything to hear a certain howl. But it’s just crickets, frogs, and owls out tonight.
You don’t know what else to do but…
“Fuck. Fuck! Fuuuuuuuuuck!” You scream out into the void, it would seem.
Until you hear a response in the form of a huff behind you.
When you turn around, you're only a little surprised to see the same wolf from before walking toward you. You stand still until it stops about a foot from you. You look down and study its paws, large enough to rip your throat out. But the wolf just sits down as a dog would and looks up at you before yawning, showing off its sharp teeth and long dusty-mauve tongue.
If this were a dog, you would have reached out a hand to pet it. But the sheer size of it was enough to keep your hands to yourself. You didn't have to think about that for long before the wolf was back on all fours walking around you and nudging at your leg as it started to walk away. It doesn't make it far before it turns around to look at you.
"Oh, am I supposed to follow you or something?" You feel silly asking the wolf a question, but only less so when it huffs in response, "Okay. Following a wolf wasn't on the itinerary. But it isn't attacking me so whatever," You finish, mostly to yourself.
Following the wolf, you notice you are going in a completely different direction through the forest. Of course, the last time you were here was an inebriated adventure but you could've sworn you would go right instead of left. Either way, you're putting your faith in a four-legged carnivore so you stop thinking about what should or shouldn't be happening.
A light in the distance can be seen through the trees and once you reach it, you find yourself in front of a medium-sized cabin. There is a light at the little fence encircling the property. The black Ford F-150 that Walter drove is parked to the side in the driveway. You have to admit you didn't expect to see this place look so...normal. It almost looks quaint.
You shuffle on your feet and are suddenly too nervous to propel you forward. Whining at your side reminds you that you aren't alone. You absentmindedly reach your hand out to stroke the wolf's fur. Thick, coarse fur slides through your fingers. Glowing, yellow eyes look into yours and your fear starts to dissipate. The wolf licks at your hand and then takes off around the back of the cabin.
You think about shouting after it or running after it, but instead, you walk up to the fencing. You could swear you hear a door being closed in the back of the cabin, but you can't be sure and you don't want to snoop. Opening the latch to the gate, you walk through the front yard dragging your feet. Your fight or flight response makes an appearance when you hear movement in the house.
'It's now or never,' you think, raising your hand to knock on the door.
Three sharp knocks and you shove your hands in your pockets, waiting for the door to be opened. You jump at the sound of something crashing to the ground and soon the light above the door is turned on. You hold up a hand over your eyes as the harsh fluorescent beams down on you in the dark of night. The door is opened and you take your hand down to see Walter standing there. You’re once again under the spell of him.
He stands tall at about 6’1", and his hair is a disheveled mess but it only adds to the sex appeal. His brows are scrunched together and it doesn’t look like he needs you at his doorstep right now by the scowl across his pretty pink lips. He’s shirtless, sweaty, breathing hard, and smells like a wet dog. The denim shorts he wears are tattered at the ends and his defined calves are on display. His bare feet are a bit dirty as if he’s been running barefoot.
Your eyes shoot back up to his, a faint glow makes his blue eyes look almost golden. He blinks a few times and the glow is gone, aquamarine replaces gold.
You run through a mental checklist. Wet dog smell, check. Frayed shorts that were probably thrown on in a hurry, check. Golden eyes, check. You feel so stupid thinking about the last item. Walter’s hair color is the same as the wolf that brought you here.
“Are you going to come in or are you going to just stare at me like I’m a–”
“Werewolf?” You blurt out, cutting off Walter’s sentence.
“Just come in, and I can explain everything,” He opens the door and steps aside to let you in, but you don’t move, “I won’t hurt you, I promise. Please come in?”
His sincere tone and pleading eyes get the better of you. You sigh, chewing the inside of your cheek. Walking in, you step just inside the living room, giving Walter enough space to close the door behind you. You notice a side table knocked over, a lamp, and small knickknacks on the floor next to it. You turn back to look at him and his face is that of a kicked puppy.
Of course, it is.
“Look, I didn’t–”
“As much as I want to have this conversation right now, I can’t get over how much you smell. I’m gonna need you to take care of that ASAP. Go get clean and I’ll tidy up. And where is the kitchen? I need coffee if I’m gonna have this conversation sober.” You say, taking off your coat and laying on the back of the couch.
Walter walks you to the kitchen and watches as you busy yourself with the coffee maker. You tell him politely to get out of his kitchen and go shower. He opens his mouth to talk but closes it when he sees your eyebrows raise and your hand go to your hip. He simply nods and walks away. You hear him walk up the stairs and soon the faint sound of a shower being turned on before a door is closed.
You fill the coffee maker with grounds and water, setting it then make your way to the living room. Picking up the end table, you turn it right side up and set it on its legs. You bend down to pick up the figurines from the floor. You’re not surprised when they turn out to be two wolves, the larger one made of light wood and the smaller wolf a dark mahogany.
You hear the coffee maker sputtering and go in to check on it. Pulling out two mugs from their spot in the corner cabinet, you fill one and leave one for Walter, not sure if he even wants coffee so late at night. Did werewolves even drink coffee?
So, that’s it. You’re just entertaining the idea that werewolves not only exist but that you’re in a cabin with one. In the back of your mind, your grandfather’s tale of the Claw Creek creature demands attention. You were going over it when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
You bring your mug to your mouth to take a sip when Walter appears in the doorway, just as beautiful as when you saw him for the first time. His wet hair curls around his ears. He’s wearing a tighter-than-necessary heather gray henley, the front of it holding onto his pecs for dear life while the sleeves are pulled up to show off muscular forearms. A pair of jeans hug his meaty legs and boots cover his feet.
“You stare a lot.” His words break you out of your ogling and you finally pull down the mug from your lips.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Wolfie,” you comment, suddenly hyperaware that you may have just said something rude.
Walter’s chuckle surprises you, and you’re put at ease, “Wolfie?” He challenges, walking toward you.
You shrug your shoulders and stand your ground, looking up at him as he stops in front of you. He nods to the coffee maker and you step back to let him make a cup for himself. He takes a sip and hums at the flavor. He turns to ask you about it and you answer before he can open his mouth.
“Cinnamon. Just a few shakes and it takes away the sharp bitterness. Now, if you’re done talking about coffee, can we talk about how you can turn into a wolf?” Your frustration peeks through and Walter nods, leading you back into the living room.
Once you get to the couch, you set down your coffee on the table in front of you and turn to face Walter. He takes the cue and starts to speak.
“So, what do you want to know? Do you want me to go through my entire lifetime? It’s quite long, so far. Or start where I was attacked and bitten by someone I thought was a friend? Should I dispel werewolf myths about uncontrollable shifting during the full moon?” He rambles on, probably trying to confuse you or overwhelm you.
Luckily, you’re already overwhelmed so his attempt is in vain.
“I have a couple of questions. The first one is: Do you eat people? The second one is: Could you follow my scent to find me?” you offer, pulling your leg up to sit on it while leaning against the back of the couch.
“I don’t eat people. I don’t think Werewolves as a whole, ever eat people. Attack? Sure. But no, I don’t crave human flesh,” he pauses, looking down at his hands, “How’d you know about the scent thing?” He’s suddenly super interested in his fingernails.
“I didn’t know about the scent thing. You just confirmed a hunch, is all,” You reach for your mug, bringing it closer to your lips before taking a sip, “One more question and I’ll release you from the hot seat. Are you safe out here? Like, I mean, with the animal mutilations in the town, they were talking about sending hunters out to look for whatever was doing it.”
“That wasn’t me, just so you know. I’m safe out here. I actually live in town, I just come here to shift and get some time away. No one comes out this way. This used to be an abandoned shack, but I fixed it up over the past years. Got electricity going and made it...wait. You care if I’m safe out here?” he presses, a toothy grin showing off his sharp canines.
“You saved my life, I can’t care about your wellbeing? I’m being nice, don’t push it, Wolfie,” you snap, a little harsher than you meant to. You did feel lied to, but he was being honest with you. You shake your head before insisting, “I’m sorry, I just...this is a lot. And I need you to know that I was really pissed off with you in the beginning, but I know why you didn’t tell me. Safety and all that. Maybe you can drive me back to my car so I can start the drive back home?” You were cut off by an intense yawn that came out of nowhere.
“Speaking of safety, you look like you’re ready to fall over. You’ve had all of about two sips of coffee and that yawn almost unhinged your jaw a bit there. Just, I won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re tired behind the wheel,” he admits, turning concerned eyes on you.
“You know, as a wolf, using puppy dog eyes on me should be considered unfair. And how do I know this is not some elaborate excuse to get me into your bed so you can have your way with me, huh?” you huff, squinting at him as his eyes glimmer in the low light of the room.
“Do you want me to have my way with you?” he leans back, head over his shoulder, and crosses his arms over his broad chest.
Your hand flies out to slap his bicep. You figure that was easier than giving him the answer that was on the tip of your tongue.
He rolls his eyes and gets up from the couch, pointing to your coffee cup in your hand and motioning for you to give it to him. He takes both of your unfinished cups to the kitchen and when he comes back, he heads for the stairs. “You coming, pup?”
“Pup? Is that because I called you Wolfie?” You stand up from the couch, tilting your head at him before walking to follow him up the steps.
“I don’t know, give me time and I’ll think of something better.” He winks at you and smiles when you duck your head.
Once Walter shows you to his bedroom, you don’t hide your urge to look over everything in the room while he leans against the open door. You almost get upset when you see that his bedspread isn’t a large picture of a wolf’s face. Somehow you thought it would just fit in with his vibe. But the midnight blue damask comforter that covers the bed is actually way more fitting.
“Wait, where are you gonna sleep if I sleep in here?” You question as you sit on the bed and take off your boots.
“I figured I would sleep on the couch. I don’t need much sleep anyway. Unless that was an invitation…?” he smirks and is surprised when you look to be thinking it over.
“Can you stay in here ‘til I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone.” you confess, looking everywhere but who you were talking to. You can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you also know you won’t sleep in a bed that’s not yours all by your lonesome.
“Are you alright? I mean, of course, you’re not. What am I saying?” he rambles, coming into the room fully and hunching his shoulders so he can seem less intimidating.
Walter walks over to the bed, pulls back the bedspread, and motions for you to crawl under the covers. Once you are comfortable, he turns on a low light on his dresser and turns off the overhead light of the room. Coming back to the bed, he sits at the edge and toes off his boots before you pull him to lie down next to you.
Turning to face him as he lays on his back, you stare at his face as he looks up at the ceiling. You’re interlacing your fingers so that you don’t reach out and trace his jawline when a thought pops into your head.
“When’s the last time you had a woman in your bed?” You breathe, mentally kicking yourself for not thinking longer before you voice your thoughts.
“It’s been a while. Years. I don’t really...mingle much.” He murmurs, eyes never moving from one particular spot.
You refuse to acknowledge the “lone wolf” analogy, instead, you steady yourself before putting a hand on his. “Thank you for saving me, Walter. Goodnight.” Taking your hand back, you close your eyes and let tiredness take its course.
“You’re welcome.” His soft voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s the last thing you hear before you’re fully asleep.
To be continued…
A/N: Wow, you mean to tell me I got these two folks in bed together and they’re both dressed still? What?! Don’t hate me!
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HELLO MILA <333
I love ur blog sm and i just realised i never asked anything ??????
So i was wondering if u could do something with beomgyu’s s/o surprising him at their recent tour 🫶🏻👀
word count: 2.1k
genre: fluff, (secret) established relationship
dear anon!!! thank you so much for your wonderful request, i hope i was able to do your idea justice! i had lots of fun writing this, and i've always wanted to try writing something similar! i'd love to hear your thoughts, thank you for your support and patience 🤍
the nature of your relationship with beomgyu had always been built on something light-hearted, even as the two of you grew into your separate selves and careers.
it’s what you believed kept your relationship blossoming– the spark as so many relationship experts had dubbed it. it’s what you believed kept you and your boyfriend together after so many years, after so much time spent apart, and after so many things had attempted to come in the way.
easily put: loving your idol boyfriend was easy because of the both of you were just a little bit unserious (sometimes).
the unexpected call comes at an hour too late for you to ignore. beomgyu’s manager is on the other line with a proposition that makes you sit up in bed and tug your sheets off urgently. you nearly think you’re stuck in the midst of a wishful dream, his voice a mere product of your sleep-deprived mind. but then he mentions something you’d been pondering on for months, something you’d never thought would be brought up to conversation with your boyfriend’s management team.
you’re left staring at your frazzled reflection in the bathroom mirror when he hangs up. he leaves it up to you to decide whether or not to tell beomgyu.
so, when beomgyu’s message inviting you to their last show on tour appears on your phone with a muted ding!, you decide to act. it feels a little mean, and it nearly makes you break your act when he sends enough sad face emojis to make the app lag, but you tell him you’re busy; unable to get a day off from your employer, who’s livid at the thought of you taking a vacation on such short notice.
it’s believable, almost too much so, because beomgyu answers with a voice message comforting you and promising to take you next time. he also sends you a selfie of him in his hotel bed, hair wet and lips devastatingly pouty, and you resort to turning your phone off to avoid telling him the truth.
you’ve come across countless photos and videos from his concert before, received even more from your boyfriend directly, but no amount of beomgyu fancams could prepare you for physically seeing him on stage. he looks absolutely incandescent, like a star that’s gotten to close to earth, and your lungs constrict at how effortlessly he carries himself through the songs.
the fervor and keenness with which he throws himself into his performance has left you awe-stuck every time, but seeing it on a stage in such a large-scale venue makes your heart squeeze with pride. there’s a certain glow to all of the members, really, one that made it hard for you to take your eyes off the stage during the entirety of the three hour show.
the stadium’s alive with roaring fans, the energy palpable in the thrumming air as each note reverberated like an echo. the eagerness in your throat nearly suffocates you. with every passing song, you could feel yourself growing more and more nervous, increasingly unsure of how beomgyu will react. despite sitting somewhat close to the stage, he has yet to acknowledge that he’s seen or recognized you.
beomgyu’s eyes briefly meet yours during one of the ments when he’s scanning through your section. his gaze pauses on you for just a moment longer, enough to let you see the brief flicker of shock on his unassuming face, before he schools himself and moves on to fans that are seated higher up. but you still manage to catch his gaze on you every now and then throughout the remainder of the show, fleeting and brief, yet progressively more incessant as everything draws to a close.
you swear you see him mouth something at you, but then confetti’s being blast out and you’re drowning in the screams around you. admittedly, the hardest part is waiting for the venue to begin emptying out, enough so that you can find a trusted staff member and be escorted backstage. you’re unsure of how long after the show it’s been when you can finally slip away to see beomgyu, but it’s all forgotten in the past when you turn into a room and see him staring back at you, this time unabashedly.
everything around you bleeds into hazy, distant nothingness as you run forward to close the gap between you two. beomgyu’s arms encircle you like a lifeline, pressing you into his chest with a measured tenderness. he’s warm and firm and familiar, and as he tucks himself into your shoulder, you feel like you can finally breathe again.
“i can’t believe you made it,” he mumbles against your neck, hold tightening around your waist. he’s sweaty all along the front, shirt practically drenched through after hours of performing, but all you can think about is the fact that he’s finally here. not on a screen. not in your fleeting thoughts throughout the day.
“airplanes are a crazy invention,” you joke breathlessly.
beomgyu laughs wetly from where he’s nuzzling your collarbones, seemingly intent on getting as close as physically possible to you. your own hand raises to card itself through his damp locks, untangling them where they’ve gone unruly from his dancing. you almost feel awkward with the mill of staff around you, but they look too busy tending to the clean-up process to even worry about the two of you huddling in the middle of it all.
“you two are so cute,” you hear from behind you, and as you crane your neck to meet taehyun’s genuine eyes, you flush.
stepping back from the hug, you feel beomgyu’s calloused palms move to cup your cheeks, gently cradling your face with a tenderness so raw it nearly hurts. he’s looking at you with such intent, almost as if in belief that you’re real and in front of him, and you resist to rock forward on your toes and kiss him square on the mouth. his thumbs smooth over your damp cheeks, and you realize with a start that you’ve been crying.
as the room continues to crowd with more staff filtering in, beomgyu takes the initiative to pull you into one of the more secluded corners of the lounge for some semblance of privacy. you lean back against the wall and peer up at him through your lashes, studying the way the glitter of his makeup catches the light. he’s even more beautiful up close, impossibly ethereal, and your heart aches at the thought of leaving him again.
the rest of the members seem to have also taken note of your presence, judging by kai’s excited holler from the doorway, and you preen under their attention when they crowd into your corner. beomgyu makes a noise of complaint when they circle around you, but the frown on his face doesn’t last long as he watches you hug the rest of his bandmates. they’re all still dressed in their stage outfits, equally sweaty and noticeably exhausted, and yet they greet you with such heartfelt enthusiasm that you feel yourself go warm all over.
“no way, you didn’t tell us you were coming!” soobin pulls back from smothering you to look you over, gasping when he notices the tour shirt you’d slipped on over your outfit. “you’re wearing the one beomgyu sent you! oh, i hate couples. i’m going to be sick–”
soobin breaks off, pretending to gag, and you swat at him with a smile so wide that hurts your cheeks.
“we’ve missed you so much,” kai continues earnestly, grinning impishly, “probably more than gyu, if we’re being honest.”
“careful, i know where you’re sleeping tonight,” your boyfriend grumbles, sticking his tongue out at the both of them as he scoots into your side, wrapping his arm around your waist.
“so do i? we’re literally staying on the same floor…”
“at this point, can’t we just ask manager-nim to get an extra room at our hotel for you?” yeonjun’s question is innocent, but it makes you go warm all over. partly from excitement, partly from embarrassment.
“no way, your manager’s done already done so much for me.” that was an understatement. he’d been more than understanding when you’d first brought the idea up to him, been too kind and patient in sorting out details and ruling out alternatives. he’d pulled too many strings to secure you a spot at the show, backstage even, that it felt outright inconsiderate to ask for more. you’d gotten to see beomgyu shining from afar, gotten to see him sweaty and tired and soft between your arms.
it was enough, no matter how selfish you wanted to be.
“it’s okay,” a deeper voice cuts you off before you can continue, and you back up into beomgyu in surprise. their manager laughs good-naturedly at your shock, moving in between the members and reaching out to shake your hand in greeting.
“it’s okay?” you squeak, meeting his hand tentatively.
“i appreciate your consideration,” he nods, turning to pat beomgyu on the back. “the boys have all worked really hard on this tour. it’s the last stop, and they have a long flight back to korea tomorrow. what’s one night of celebration? you’ll have to take a separate car and follow extra protocol, but it won’t be anything our team can’t handle. beomgyu, think of this as my congratulation to you for a successful tour.”
“if beomgyu gets to be with his partner, i want in-n-out,” soobin pouts, and everyone in the circle breaks off into laughter. yeonjun seconds this with a raise of his hand, and you watch with amusement as kai and taehyun quickly follow suit.
“thank you,” beomgyu whispers to his manager, smile sincere and flustered. his hold on your hand tightens, and you look over at him to share a knowing look.
the anxiousness at the back of your mind doesn’t disappear as beomgyu and the rest of the members go through the motions of warming down and preparing to leave. you’re instructed to wait on one of the empty couches in the corner, leg bouncing restlessly as you watch your boyfriend disappear down the hall, presumably to change into something with less frills and gems.
outside, you can still hear the hum of excitement from the venue, though considerably scaled down from what you remember it being during the show. your heart squeezes with pride at the thought of how far they’d all come– sold out venues with capacities the size of small towns. an achievement so deserving, and yet once unfathomable to the entire group.
beomgyu returns clad in sweatpants and a loose shirt, face wiped clean of highlights and glitters. he seems almost bashful as he approaches you, looking around with a shy quirk to his mouth as he comes to back you up against the corner. you know what’s coming before he even leans in to peck you, know from the determination in his eyes that this isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of him like this tonight.
“ready to head out?” he asks once he pulls back, reaching for your hand with a smirk playing at his lips. your fingers comfortably slip between his, and as you make your way out after the staff, you clear your throat and try to hide the blush on your cheeks.
“i also want in-n-out,” you say.
your boyfriend’s answering laugh is loud and fond, and it rings down the hallway like peals of bells. he leans into your side, nudging you with his shoulder, and you note that he still smells like the body wash you have at home.
“almost sounds like you’re more excited for the food than to spend time alone with me,” he pouts.
flicking him on the forehead, both of you pause before a set of doors, ones you assume lead to the exterior of the building. you know his manager isn’t far behind you, and after being briefed on the measures you’d have to adhere to once outside, you think it’s best you stick by a familiar face. the security milling around should have you feeling more on edge, but beomgyu’s secure hold on your hand is enough to make you forget all about the predicament.
“i’ll see you at the hotel,” he promises.
there’s a crowd of staff forming behind you, commotion rising in the hallway as the team prepares to leave. you look at the flutter of beomgyu’s lashes as he looks up at them, then back at you, and you hum quietly when he begins to let go of you hand.
“with in-n-out?”
beomgyu’s smile is blinding, like that of a star you’re finally able to hold in the cusp of your palms. “with in-n-out.”
#nightdiary.writes#written-asks#txt#txt headcanons#txt x reader#txt fluff#txt angst#txt fic#yeonjun headcanons#soobin headcanons#beomgyu headcanons#taehyun headcanons#hueningkai headcanons#yeonjun x reader#soobin x reader#beomgyu x reader#taehyun x reader#hueningkai x reader#txt imagines#txt boyfriend#txt scenarios#tomorrow x together headcanons#yeonjun fluff#soobin fluff#beomgyu fluff#taehyun fluff#hueningkai fluff
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The One You Need | two
🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach,
so maybe just this once,
you could be the one I need,
if you let me be the one you need 🎶
pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader
rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni
summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life.
warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset, past relationships, men vs boys, sexual tension, dubcon [tagging to be safe] [slight alcohol consumption but neither is drunk], verbal consent received, reader described as female, no other physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n.
word count: 6.1k
part one | joel miller masterlist
a/n: i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. & tagging @hausofobsession because charlie's the best
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
It had been three and a half weeks since move in day and a few things had become abundantly clear about your new surroundings.
1. Having your own place rocked. You did what you wanted. You answered to no one. If you wanted to have a one person dance party at two in the morning, you did. No downstairs neighbors hollered and banged on their ceiling – your floor. You could paint the walls whatever color you wanted and tear up the flooring if you had the impulse to. Nothing ever again had to be “renter friendly” .
2. Having your own place was a lot of work. There were any number of things that seemed to break, leak, or hang crooked on any given day and instead of ringing up a landlord and complaining, you could only complain to yourself… And then figure out how to fix the broken, leaky, or wonky thing. And it boggled your mind how dust and grime seemed to manifest out of nothingness. Rooms you don’t even remember stepping foot into had somehow acquired a thin film of dust. You were constantly cleaning something or fixing something, and in the most unfortunate of times, your cleaning of something resulted in you also needing to fix it. If anything, owning a home had reinforced to you that you were indeed the man in your life.
3. Joel Miller was practically the mayor of the neighborhood. Everyone knew him. It was impossible to spend any amount of time in the yard and not be bombarded with Joel Miller, Joel Miller, Joel Miller. While he wasn’t particularly outgoing, he seemed to be there when someone needed help. Whether it was Mrs. Cole with her grocery bags or the young, single mother next door to him who needed someone to put her son’s basketball hoop together. He was an everyman. And though he had helped you in a big way on your first day as part of the neighborhood, you’d spent the past few weeks dodging him as much as possible.
4. And lastly, you needed his help again. At some point during the week, a foul odor had wafted through the entirety of your home. And short of thinking an animal had crawled up and died within the walls, you began scouring the house with as much disinfectant as your sense of smell would allow. Every inch of every room was scrubbed down, and when that still didn’t get rid of the odor, you figured it was time to call an exterminator. Dehydrated, hungry, and about to snap, you opened the refrigerator and was punched in the face by warm, smelly air that burned your nose more than the disinfectant. Ah, the source.
How long the fridge hadn’t been working, you didn’t know. What you did know was that all the perishables – namely the dairy products – had certainly perished. And after three hours on the phone with a local handyman you’d found online, his ultimate advice was, “get a new refrigerator”. On a normal day, that was easily said and done. You would’ve ordered one the same day and gotten it delivered the next. Only, you’d spent the week prior throwing an obscene amount of money at new furniture to fill the oodles and oodles of empty space you now found yourself inhabiting.
You had genuinely thought about asking Joel for help that same day. At least to get the fridge out of the house because you were sure the smell wouldn’t leave until the entire appliance did. But when you looked out your window, his truck wasn’t in his driveway. And it didn’t arrive back until late that night. There was no way you were going to burden him so late, so you cracked some windows and told yourself you’d ask him in the morning. But the next morning when you Houdini’d yourself out of bed and made a pot of coffee, his truck was already out of the driveway again. An hour and a half later of throwing everything out and deep cleaning it, the fridge didn’t nearly smell as bad. And after a while, you kind of just let it be.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Saturday. A day of rest. Except you were standing on Joel’s porch, curling your hand into a fist to rap your knuckles against his door, about to ask him to do a little work. A shred of guilt was growing inside of you. Yes, he had said to reach out if you needed something. He’d been nothing but neighborly. But you knew what you were doing. The thing where you use a boy for your gain but have nothing to offer in return.
Joel opened his front door, breathing a little heavier than normal with a sheen of sweat over his face and down his neck. He appeared to be completely clothed, but whether or not you’d caught him in a state of undress and he threw this on, you had no idea. From what you’d observed by peeking out your front window, the single mother that lived next door to him seemed to have a little bit of a crush. Perhaps that crush was reciprocated on his end.
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You squinted your eyes shut and partially shielded them with your hand.
“What?” He looked down at himself, tugging on his shirt, “no, I just got in from doing yard work out back.” Joel took a deep breath and slowly let it exhale. He remembered when he could be working hard all day and not even feel it. Now there were days when he went up the stairs in his house and got winded. “How ya’ doin?”
“Good, I… I need your help again,”
Joel grinned, something cheeky that you wanted to slap right off his face.
“Don’t look too excited about it. My fridge is on the fritz and it’s too heavy for me to move,”
There was a part of him that wanted to bring to attention that this was the second time in less than a month that you were coming to him for help. Ultimately he thought better of it. The hard line of your lips and narrowness of your eyes clued him in that you were waiting to rebuke anything he might say. Instead he disappeared from the doorway, leaving you utterly confused, only to return a minute later with an old metal toolbox in hand. He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him.
“No, it’s not getting fixed. I’m getting a new one,”
He quirked his eyebrows and looked down at you, “that fridge is only three years old.” He stepped off his porch and started toward your house.
You took a few quick steps to catch up with him, falling in line and then keeping up that pace to stay even with him. It did look like a fairly modern make. “How do you know that?”
“‘Cause I helped Mrs. Wilson get it in her house three years ago. I’d told her to get that fridge because I knew it’d last. Now unless you or Mrs. Wilson did something on it that it’s not meant for, it should still be perfectly fine.”
“What’re you implying?”
Joel shot a wink in your direction, “you have any male suitors over lately? Get a little frisky in the kitchen over dinner?”
Your jaw dropped as you followed Joel up your porch steps. “No! You can see my house from your house. You know I haven’t had anyone over,”
“I don’t spy on my neighbors.” He walked through your door after you’d opened it for him, “are you spyin’ on me?”
“No, I’m not,” you protested, leading him into the kitchen and directing him toward the problem appliance. “But I do know that next-door neighbor of yours, fancies you,”
“Fancies me?”
“Mhm. She twirls her hair every time she talks to you,”
Joel set the toolbox down on the counter and angled his body at the fridge, “does she now?” He wrapped his arms around it, fingers gripping to the sides, and began to shimmy the entire thing out from its little cubbyhole.
The whole display was rather impressive. Despite actively not yearning or searching for a relationship, acts of masculinity did get you going. It was the double-edged sword that lived inside you. Boys – can’t live with them; can’t live without them. Just because you couldn’t rely on men, didn’t mean the desire to sleep with them wasn’t there. But even you knew, that under no circumstances, were you to sleep or have any sort of sexual contact with Joel Miller. Even if he was a rugged display of masculinity. With sinewy muscles that strained beneath his skin when he flexed them. And fingers that surely knew how to wrap around more than just the handle end of a hammer. He was your neighbor. You weren’t going to shit where you ate. But by God if he didn’t look like a delicious meal.
It’s the reason you picked up so quickly on the tell-tale signs of attraction by Little Miss Next Door Neighbor. She was looking at him the way all women did when they wanted to be swept up by a man. They wanted to be handled, and led, and submissive. Something you could never be. To a man? Absolutely not.
This argument you were having with no one but yourself was interrupted when Joel called your name with a tone that indicated to you it wasn’t the first or second time he was calling it. You blinked and focused your eyes, finding he was only partially visible – most of him being shrouded by the fridge that he now stood behind.
“S’not working because it’s dirty. Do you have a handheld vacuum?”
Approaching him, you contorted your body around it to sneak a peek at what he was looking at. “It stopped working because it’s dirty?”
“Could be somethin’ faulty inside, but the condenser coils and gasket seals are a mess. My guess is it’s just that,”
“I called some handyman and he told me I needed a brand new fridge,”
Joel peeked his head out to look at you, “why you callin’ some random handyman when you got one ‘cross the street?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, “I was going to but you worked weird hours this week and were never home when I looked out my window.”
“So you are spying on me,” he chuckled. “That’s why you’re jealous of Kelly,”
“Who’s jealous?!” It wasn’t lost on you that your voice rose about an octave or two higher than your normal register. You were sure Joel clocked that, too. “I’m just making sure you know she’s got a big ol’ schoolgirl crush on you,”
“She doesn’t ‘cause we’ve gone out before and it wasn’t a match.”
“Does she know that?”
“I’d say she does,”
You smirked, having a little fun poking the bear. “How do you know?”
“Because when a woman gets naked and propositions a man for sex, and he says no, it’s usually a pretty definitive sign.”
“Yeah, right,” you laughed incredulously, “no man looks at a woman who’s ready to fuck and says no to her.”
“This man does,” he looked you dead in the eyes and held your gaze. “You got a vacuum?”
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
The resoluteness of Joel’s answer had honestly come as a shock. It was something you knew you’d want to circle back on at some point simply because of how insane it seemed. A straight guy turning down sex from a woman? He had to have been the first man in history to do so. The thought kept you busy while your refrigerator kept him busy. Coincidentally, you both became significantly less busy around the same time.
“It works again?”
Joel plugged the fridge back into the wall and stepped out from behind it. He wiped his hands in a rag you’d brought out for him, which just happened to be one of your old, white t-shirts. He didn’t seem to care. Or notice. “Gotta give it a few minutes. See if it’s gettin’ cold,'' he looked up at you, noting how you began to get a little more fidgety, looking around. He wasn’t sure why; perhaps just itching to get him out of your house. “You got any food for dinner?”
“Yeah,” you said half-heartedly, thinking about how you were about to endure yet another day of some sad, canned soup. “I can whip up a can of something,”
He shook his head and waved you off, “come by tonight. I’ll fix you a meal,”
“You just fixed my fridge.”
“Maybe,” he smiled.
“I should be cooking you a meal,”
He shook his head vehemently, “I haven’t eaten chicken noodle soup since I was about nine, and I don’t aim to start up again.” He pulled open the fridge door, set his hands on one of the shelves and decided it was slightly colder than it had been just a couple minutes prior. “It should be good to go now,” he loaded up his toolbox and locked it up. “Swing by around seven. If you stand me up, I’m coming back over here and breaking the damn thing,”
“Joel,”
“Seven.”
With that, he was out before you could protest again. Somehow both of you knew you’d be showing up to his house that night. Annoyance bubbled up at your surface with the realization that not only did you know you weren’t going to disobey him, but he knew it too. The few hours between him leaving and you showing back up on his porch for dinner had been spent sulking. Whatever this was becoming – you weren’t sure what just friendship looked like with a boy because no single, unattached boy you’d ever met only wanted friendship – was getting to be too much. There needed to be a line drawn in the sand. You needed to draw the line in the sand. And more importantly, after the line was drawn, you and Joel needed to be securely on opposite sides of it.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
But curse this man and his ability to put ideas in your head. Horrible, awful, domestic ideas. The sorts of ideas that made you think this image of him: on the back porch with a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, a dish towel slung over his shoulder for quick access, flipping over and inspecting a couple steaks, chewing on his bottom lip as he pondered how close to medium they were getting… was an image you could get used to seeing.
It was how all boys in the past had gotten you.
They wooed you with their little acts here and there of masculinity. Or their wit. Or just cute looks. They made you believe that they were different. That they were honest, and open, and evolved. And you’d get sucked in and follow the white rabbit down the hole. For a while it’d all be good. You would actually believe that you had found an evolved man that you could coexist with and be happy. But after the momentary bliss, you’d come to realize that the wool had been pulled over your eyes. You’d been deceived and lied to. The boy could not manage his own emotions, let alone understand yours. You’d sit in the anger that you betrayed your sense of self to make room for this boy, and only when you’d talked yourself far enough off the ledge, you’d explode like a time bomb. Afterwards, a tiny piece of you would be the only thing left to go around picking up all the other little fragments of yourself. And you’d put yourself back together with tape and a promise that you wouldn’t ever allow another to break you like that again. That is, until another boy found his way to you and made you think he was different. And thus the cycle continued.
“You have family out here?” Joel looked up from the barbecue and took a sip of his beer while he waited for you to answer.
Taking a step forward and buying some time by swigging down a gulp of your beer, you shook your head. “They’re all in California still. Just had to get away. What about you?”
He nodded and closed the grill, “Sarah’s a few hours away at school and her mom’s ‘bout a half hour away. But my brother’s here. I work with him actually,”
“You must be close with him,”
Joel nodded absently.
“But no wife for Joel Miller,” you smiled, half-hidden by your bottle. “I take it no girlfriend either since apparently you don’t like getting laid,”
He laughed. It was the first real, hearty laugh you’d heard from him. It seemed to shake his whole body and he opened the grill back up and plucked the steaks off it, depositing them on an awaiting plate. “I like getting laid. It might be my favorite thing to do,”
“That’s why I think you’re full of shit. Turning down, what’s her name…”
“Kelly…”
“You’re telling me,” you approached Joel slowly, got right up close to him, and dragged a delicate finger over one of his shoulders and down his bicep to prove a point. “A woman… an attractive woman, I’d say… stripped down in front of you, told you to have your way with her, and you said no thanks,”
Joel watched your finger. His tongue poked out of his mouth quickly to lick his lips before he flashed his eyes back to you, obviously finding great pleasure that his gaze in this close proximity made you avert your own eyes downward. “Exactly,”
You half-smiled and shook your head as you took a step back, “bullshit.”
He shut off the grill and scooped the plate up. “Explain to me why you think that’s bullshit,” he meandered past you and pulled his back door open, allowing you the chance to walk in first before he followed you in.
Instinctively, you progressed into the kitchen, where two stools at the counter were awaiting with place settings. You perched in one while Joel set the steaks down by you and continued to the oven where he pulled out a tray of roasted vegetables. “Because you’re a guy,”
“Man,” he corrected and started placing food on your plate.
“A man,” you mocked. When he finished giving you food and moved onto his, “thank you. And men don’t do that. They chase pleasure. They get their dick wet and they move on down the line, leaving a path of destruction in their wake,”
This time, Joel waited to respond until he was seated next to you. He clinked his bottle against yours, “thanks for coming over.”
“To be honest, I was actually afraid you’d blow up my fridge and I can’t really afford a new one right now,”
“But I’m gonna have to disagree with you,” he focused on his plate and cut into his steak. Seemingly pleased with the degree with which it was cooked, he took a first bite. “Men don’t only care, as you so delicately put, about getting their dick wet.”
“Joel, come on, you know…”
“Boys do. For sure. A boy would look at you, a beautiful woman, and see a direct path to his pleasure. Absolutely. And a boy probably wouldn’t care too much about whether or not you were getting as much out of it as he was. ‘Cause he’s getting his, right?”
You nodded, silently pushing a mixture of steak and veggies into your mouth, enraptured with where he was going to take this conversation. And slightly unable to concentrate past the point of having heard him call you beautiful.
“Men don’t do that. A man would look at you and see that yes, you’re a beautiful woman. But he’d also see that you’ve got a helluva brain, and you’re witty, and funny, and more than a little stubborn. He’d see that you hold yourself and everyone else to a high standard, and he’d want to meet it. And when he slept with you, he’d want to make sure you were getting more out of it than he was,”
Awe-struck was the only word to describe how you felt. Was a guy actually verbalizing everything you already believed? That there was a difference between boys and men. And that most guys thought they were men simply because of their age, when you knew age meant nothing in defining a man.
Joel took a deep breath and finished off his beer, “I turned Kelly down because I knew if I slept with her I’d be taking on a lot more than I wanted to with her. And despite whatever your experience with men might be, this one’s not out to leave a path of destruction behind him.”
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
What were these complicated feelings inside of you? Someone who prided themselves on being emotionally intelligent and level-headed and yet… you were spinning like a top. On the one hand you wanted to keep everyone a safe arm’s length away, and on the other you wanted Joel to scale the walls you’d constructed and fortified around yourself. For a long time there was an odd sense of accomplishment at how tall and strong you’d managed to build them. Look at how good they were at keeping people out. But now there was someone in front of you that you thought you wanted to let in – only in constructing your walls, you never put in a gate. And that ribbon of apathy, and the moments of enduring loneliness, maybe it was all self-inflicted.
Who knew how to hurt you better than you?
The beer helped dull those thoughts. Finishing off the second as the conversation meandered through Joel’s last relationship. A topic that would’ve given you supreme pause, and yet he recounted it with ease as if he were just a court reporter, tasked with jotting down the facts. He even acknowledged his role in the dissolution of that relationship. His eyes seemed to glaze over and travel to a distant land as he described all the ways he didn’t measure up. How he was never quite what that woman wanted. And how he had no idea how to become what she wanted. On the flip side, he admitted she’d started off as someone that only saw the moon with him. She’d kept some nights from being too cold and lonely. Only when a certain amount of time passed, did she speak up and sort of declare a relationship was there.
That conversation ended when a third bottle was grabbed for each and moved to the living room. Both on the couch, you with your back pressed up against one of the arm’s of it. Your knees bent with feet planted securely on the cushion. And Joel sitting as close as he could with your legs creating a physical boundary between you. Even his thigh covered your toes, as if seeing how close to the boundary he could get. Despite feeling like this was someone you wanted to let through your walls, however temporarily, your brain still managed to cut off any inkling from your heart – using your body as the vehicle to keep everyone at bay.
“Hmm?” Joel hummed and grabbed your attention back to the present. “‘S’not fair leaving me hanging after I just spilled all my gory relationship details. What about yours?”
You shook your head, trying to appear innocent, “there’s not much to say.”
“Say anything,”
Staring at him, you took a deep breath and a generous sip of your new beer. Then feeling on the good side of buzzed, you stretched forward to move for the coffee table. Seeing your plight and the awkwardness of the angle given that you weren’t inclined to lower your legs to make the action smoother, Joel leaned forward, gently took the bottle from your hands and set it on the table for you.
“He was nice at the start. A bit older than me. I thought it meant we’d be on the same wavelength for once, y’know? That he’d outgrown the frat boy, tool bag phase and moved into a more evolved one. It got physical quick and it was… awful.” You glanced down at your hands, remembering for the first time in a while about what sleeping with that guy felt like – a trial run with hari-kari, complete and self-inflicted betrayal.
With your pause and sensing obvious discomfort, Joel reached across his body and got a loose grip on your shin. He gave it a soft squeeze that felt like permission to stop if you were so inclined. But it didn’t hurt like it used to; as if you had been able to remove yourself from the equation and were now just recounting the plot of some terrible film you’d seen once.
Shrugging and with a half-smile he couldn’t place, you looked back up at Joel, “he had a good time.”
“Was it ever good for you?” He mumbled as though he didn’t actually want to hear the answer. And because you hadn’t reacted in any way to his hand on your shin, he took a chance and used that grip to lower your leg across his lap.
“No, but I’m a helluva actress.”
He raised his eyebrows and absently took hold of your other leg and lowered that one across his lap, too. Now the literal barrier you’d put between you had been carefully circumvented. “He never stopped to figure it out?”
You shook your head, “he was getting his, Joel. See, it’s hard to figure out when you’re dealing with a boy. They hide it well,”
Joel reached forward and set his half-empty beer next to yours on the coffee table. When he reclined back to his previous position, his hands migrated to your feet and squeezed them with a familiarity of an old married couple who’d been practicing this dance for decades.
“It ended two and a half years ago, so a distant memory,”
He only nodded. You thought he’d have something about that. Something like what’ve you been doing for two years without a man. But maybe he figured you were doing just fine. Probably better. So he only squeezed your feet again before his hands migrated a little further north to your knees, fingers just barely dipping between your thighs that you’d managed to keep pressed together. Finally he asked:
“No fillers in the meantime?”
It made you laugh. Any number of innuendo could be applied to his question. It was also at this point that you felt your resolve fading. The will to keep him at bay becoming less of a conscious effort. “No fillers. Not really my style,”
“Not a one night stand kinda girl?” He smirked and shot a playful glance at you. There was no chance he was unaware that the press of your thighs together had lessened. Any further action of his hand would’ve resulted in him going wherever he wanted, however he wanted. But he didn’t. His hand remained where it was, gaining no further purchase and adding no extra pressure.
“Would you be if sex was never good for you?”
He chuckled and threw his head back against the couch, “fair enough.” He shook his head, absently staring at the ceiling. Only when he’d gathered his thoughts and words did he shift his gaze back to you. “People are simple creatures,” there was a slight pause and though you opened your mouth to refute that, he continued first. “I mean the biology part. It’s not hard to get a woman off,”
“Okay, hotshot. Let me go get a horn for you to toot a little louder,”
He grinned widely, showing off nearly every tooth in his mouth. The look made you smile as well – like a kid getting caught opening presents before Christmas. “There’s a lot of hard tasks in this world,” he pursed his lips and shrugged, “making a woman come isn’t one of them.”
The heat you’d felt rising in your chest and neck after he’d successfully moved your mattress into your bedroom was returning. Only this time, you felt it settle in your cheeks, and you wondered if he was aware of it. Your eyes were glued to him, wide, trying to pick up on as much visual information they could get. What you found was Joel adding the slightest of pressure between your knees to spread your thighs just enough for him to pivot on the couch and face you squarely.
You swallowed down a lump in your throat, eyes flicking over the sight of him: the way graying curls moved across his forehead, or the way his eyes never left yours. Not even for a second. Not even when he was positioning himself closer to you, kneeling back on his shins with his thighs nudging yours upward at an angle. He smiled softly, a gentle thing that instantly put you at greater ease, and leaned in closer to you, planting his hands on the couch on either side of your chest.
“Can I kiss you?” His focus wandered down to your lips when they parted.
In all your years of life, no one had ever asked that, and it took you aback, scrambling to make sense of the English you believed you were fluent in. But you nodded quickly and assumed that would’ve been the green light. Probably would’ve for most people, but as you were coming to learn, Joel wasn’t quite like most people.
He smiled and bowed his head, taking a breath to gather himself. In the meantime, his hair was close to your nose and the muskiness of his scent was everything you thought and wanted it to be. He raised his head and looked at you again, his eyes practically pleading. “Can we make that verbal?”
“Yes,” you exhaled. But when it didn’t result in his lips meeting yours with haste, you tried again. “Kiss me,”
Like a fire ignited under him, Joel closed the rest of the gap between you. Hands drifting to your cheeks, he cupped your head with the most practiced of ease and pressed his mouth to yours, first with closed lips to test the waters before the next action was the parting of his lips on yours. His tongue searched for entrance into your mouth, finding it when a soft breath was exhaled.
While trying not to talk yourself out of this moment, you also tried to think about the last time you’d been kissed like this. Or kissed at all, period. But like this, with want, and desire, and passion. Like all of Joel was made for this exact moment: to kiss you with the intention of every fiber of his being; to make your brain go foggy and blur out everything that did not add to this need. It was as if he could sense you slipping away from him, focused elsewhere instead of letting yourself buy into this, and he recaptured you with a soft bite to your lower lip. He re-positioned his hands; one at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other gripping onto your hip, adjusting you further until your ass was pressed up against his crotch.
He forced himself to pull back, slight enough to be able to speak but still close enough to press his forehead against yours. “Stay with me. Don’t go somewhere else,”
Your instinct was to protest, that you weren’t about to leave, but realized he’d picked up on the thing you were wondering about. The thing no guy had ever picked up on, or cared to, before. The distance your brain was willing to create between itself and your body.
“Joel,” you whispered, sounding slightly more needy than you would’ve hoped.
“I know,” he murmured back. His hand ditched your hip for a split second and took hold of your wrist. Led it up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck, until the backs of your fingers brushed along the ends of his hair. Without fail, you softly clutched into it. “Stay with me. Right here,” his hand went back to your hip and your lips reconnected. Open-mouthed with his tongue pressing into yours. He tilted his head to the side and groaned into your mouth, sending a vibration down your throat, past your chest, through your stomach, and straight to your core.
You hummed back into his mouth, for once closing your eyes and letting yourself live in the feeling his lips could administer. The heat that had already been living in your cheeks seemed to amplify with the size of him around you. His broad shoulders meeting a wide chest that seemed to dwarf you. Large hands that effortlessly cupped around your hip or engulfed your cheek. He was everywhere at once and when he ducked his head lower to kiss your neck, landing a love bite on your jugular, it took extra measures to keep yourself grounded and there for him.
Your hand slowly released the hair at the nape of his neck, and slid down over his shoulder to his chest, followed the seam at the side of his t-shirt until your fingertips reached the hem at the bottom. With fingers tucking beneath the fabric and meeting the skin at his oblique, you felt him exhale a hot breath against your neck, his hips shifting beneath you. As you ran your hand north, you took stock of the muscles your fingers passed, and how while still present and firm, they’d grown less pronounced with age. A softness to his body that he’d earned the right to after years of hard labor. Or so you assumed by the feeling of calloused hands on you.
Gauging what you wanted from him as your hands worked their way upward, pushing his shirt up with them, he groaned not wanting to take his lips off your neck, but doing so anyway to sit back. With a swift motion, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor unceremoniously. He wiped his hand down over his mouth and shook his head as if in disbelief as he pressed his hands back into the couch on either side of you, “god, you’re fucking gorgeous.”
His eyes danced their way over every feature on your face as if trying to commit them to memory, before they drifted lower, down to where your hips met his. But all this unadulterated looking sparked a flame of timidness inside you, and your instinct to quell the nerves was to grab for him, urging him back to you. If he was busy with his lips on you – any part of you – it’d keep his eyes from boring holes into you. His lips met yours again with fervor, this time forcing his tongue into your mouth. A helpless moan floated out of your throat and Joel responded by laying a hand at your neck. Fingers around it but applying no pressure.
“Bed. Please,” you whispered so low you wondered if you had wanted him to hear it or not.
But it was like he was attuned to you and your body more than any previous guy had been. And in hearing your request, he moved his lips back to your neck and you felt a smile spread across his face, pressing against your skin.
“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” he mumbled against your skin. So tight that it distorted his words and had you humming for instant clarification. He lifted his head and looked back down at you, as if his eyes alone would be able to figure out the answer. “Drunk?”
You ran your hands up to his chest, “on two and a half beers?”
“That’s not an answer,” he let out a breath and drifted his hand from your neck, down to your chest where he gave one of your breasts a squeeze. You noticed at the same moment, he reached around to your ass but avoided it to simply adjust himself in his jeans.
“I’d have to be drunk to want to sleep with you?”
“I reckon it’d help,” he grinned boyishly and bent in again for another tongue-led kiss as though he couldn’t help himself.
You grabbed either side of his face in your hands and curled your fingers into his beard. “Not drunk, just want you,” there was a lack of movement on his end and you weren’t sure if he was short-circuiting or trying to figure out if someone your size could indeed get drunk on two and a half beers. Either way, you tapped his ribs, “now, if possible.”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#almost there in part 3#the one you need#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#au#neighbor!joel
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Secrets of Spring
Summary: Studying is hard. Especially when your study buddy won't stop talking about Bucky Barnes.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
college au | athlete bucky
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“-and then I was like ‘oh my god Bucky, you are like, so funny’ and then he was like-”
You sighed loudly as Kayla continued blabbing, hoping your study partner would get the hint and stop reiterating her 3-second-long interaction with James Buchanan Barnes, the school’s star quarterback and flirt.
“And then my friend Riya was like ‘oh my god Kay Kay, he’s literally flirting with you-”
“That’s great, Kayla, but could we back to the flashcards by any chance-”
“He’s just so goddamn hot!” She squealed as she brandished the stack of notecards around in the air, earning glares directed at both of you from a couple other studious students occupying the library’s tables.
You sunk down in your seat, pretending not to know the lululemon-clad girl in front of you who was basically buzzing with excitement. Of course, studying with Kayla would not have been your first choice, and you definitely weren’t her top pick either, but you two were each others’ only hope, considering the fact that the rest of the kids in your anatomy class were always either high, drunk, or both.
“It should be illegal to look that good,” she said as she looked off into the distance with glassy eyes and fanned herself. Her eyes lit up as she turned her eyes back to you and straightened up in her seat. “And guess what?”
You didn’t have time to guess before Kayla continued rambling on.
“My friend, Lynn, saw him at the gym shirtless the other day and took a picture,” She gushed as she pulled out her phone. “Wait, lemme show you. He looked so sweaty and delicious.”
You grimaced, reaching over to turn her phone off in the middle of her search. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Your loss.” Kayla snapped her gum obnoxiously before her eyes lit up again. “Oh, and guess what?”
You just grumbled in response.
“So you know how my friend’s brother is on the football team with Bucky, right?”
You had no idea who this friend was, much less who her brother was, but you nodded along with Kayla as you felt the headache creeping in.
“She told me that when he came over to her house during spring break to hang out with her brother, he snuck into her room and they both spent the entire night together.” Kayla’s eyes sparkled with a mix of envy and excitement. “In the room right next to her parents.”
You couldn’t stop the words that vomited from your mouth. “Bucky was at his parents’ house up in Brooklyn with Steve for the entirety of the break, Kayla.”
“Oh.” Kayla’s eyebrows furrowed, and you were glad she was more focused on the discrepancy in her friend’s story rather than your sudden burst of knowledge.
“Sorry,” you cleared your throat awkwardly. “I think your friend lied to you.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Kayla waved her hand with a blinding smile. “This is a good thing!”
You arched an eyebrow at her.
“I won’t be breaking girl code by dating Bucky now, since my friend never actually had anything with him!”
“Oh . . . okay?” Not like that would’ve stopped you anyways.
Her phone pinged, and she looked at it with a smile, standing up to collect her stuff (which was just her Starbucks drink and a singular highlighter). “Alright, I gotta head back to my apartment and get ready for my date tonight.”
“Oh?” Surely it couldn’t be with Bucky. Right?
"Wow, a date?" you replied, trying to sound nonchalant even as your curiosity piqued. "With who?"
Kayla grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "With this guy I met at the gym last week. He's super cute and really into fitness, just like me!"
That was exactly what you were expecting her to say, but a weight was lifted off of your shoulders anyways.
“Have fun.” You smiled in relief.
“Thanks, babes.” She blew you a kiss. “This study sesh was so great. I learned a ton.”
As she sashayed away, you decided not to bring up the fact that she got through a grand total of exactly three flashcards.
With the shake of your head, you gathered your own belongings and headed out the library as quietly as possible, almost as if you were trying to compensate for the ruckus that Kayla had left behind.
As the cool spring wind breezed through your hair and birds chirped in the cherry blossom trees above you, your phone vibrated continuously in your pocket.
You struggled as you fished out the phone, mentally cursing out all the textbooks you decided to checkout. However, the slight frown on your face was replaced with a grin pulling at the corner of your lips as you brought your phone to your ear.
“Hey, baby.” The familiar low of his voice brought a chill up your spine. And it wasn’t from the wind.
“What do you want, Barnes.” You were certain he could hear the goofy smile on your face.
“Aw, you sound congested, doll.” He coddled you through the phone as you rolled your eyes. “Are you sick? Allergies?”
“I’m sick of hearing about you all day.” You emphasized with a smirk, after taking a moment to genuinely sneeze. Damn pollen.
“Well, can you really blame ‘em for talking about the most charming guy in town?” He laughed on his end of the line.
“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, Barnes.”
“What was dear Kayla telling you this time?”
“Just the usual. Something about you being shirtless and glistening in sweat at the gym.”
“Damn. I should start charging her for all the conversation material she’s getting out of me.”
You snorted, but little vines of jealousy stretched around your heart. “You should run your own little side hustle. You’d make thousands.”
“I like the sound of that. Maybe I’ll throw in some autographed headshots as well.”
“I can already picture the line of people stretched around the block.”
Bucky chuckled on the other end of the line, his laughter warm. "Hey, I'll have you know, I've got quite the fan club," he teased, his voice playful.
You couldn't help but smile, despite yourself. "Yeah, well, they clearly don't know how insufferable you are," you replied, your tone teasing.
There was a brief pause before Bucky spoke again, his tone turning more serious. "Hey, I miss you," he confessed softly, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice.
His words tugged at your heartstring. “I miss you too, Buck.”
He seemed to immediately notice the softening of your voice. “You got anywhere to be tonight? I’ll come by later with some pizza.”
“What-” You almost tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. “Barnes, are you crazy?”
“What?” You could imagine his innocent expression through the phone. “Am I not allowed to visit my girlfriend?”
Bucky visiting you wasn’t the problem. The problem was that you lived right between Faith Robinson and McKenzie Gonzalez, the biggest gossipers on campus, not to mention the nosiest neighbors. When one of them would inevitably see Bucky strut down the hall to your door in his tight henley with a box of pizza, the whole student body would hear the news before you could even open the door and let him in.
And having the entire school know about your relationship was the exact opposite of what Bucky wanted.
Right?
“Don’t be a smartass. You know exactly who I live by.”
“I don’t give a damn about who sees us anymore, baby. I just need to see you.”
You took a moment to process his words. You could imagine him holding his breath on his end of the line. “Oh.”
Really? The moment you’ve been secretly hoping for is here, and all you can say is ‘oh’?
“‘Oh’ in a bad way or ‘oh’ in a good way?” Bucky chuckled nervously.
The vines turned into butterflies and fluttered in your chest as you giggled. “‘Oh’ in a . . . surprised way, I guess,” you replied finally. “Yes. Yes, I would love for you to come over.”
Bucky breathed out into a cheeky grin. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Neither of you were good with words, but you didn’t need them. You understood each other perfectly.
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cod characters alphabet: activities
Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, Valeria Garza
Warnings: none
Prompt: Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with their s/o?
A/N: hehe new year new event i’m excitedd. also yes gaz’s ice cream choice is mine too don’t hate.
simon “ghost” riley:
alright so simon likes to spend what little free time he has doing something quiet and relaxing
he just needs a break from all the chaos and noise of wartime and so he’s not a big fan of going out or partying when he has spare time
i feel like at the beginning of your relationship he might take you out to dinner or on a date or something like that just because he feels like your relationship isn’t that strong yet
but once he gets really comfortable with you he’s much happier to spend his time indoors
simon usually will spend his free time reading or sewing (his masks get very dirty/broken very quickly so he needs to have a lot spare okay im sorry)
sometimes he might go outside on a walk/hike away from people so he can just catch a break
honestly when he’s alone he’ll like get into his chair, start whatever activity he’s doing, and then not leave until he’s done
like he will spend the entirety of his free time just sort of decompressing
again at first he was hesitant to let you in because it was sort of like his own self-care routine but he’s found that it’s much easier to take care of himself when you’re there
sometimes he’ll let you curl up on his lap while you nap/read a book/scroll on your phone, and sometimes you guys will sit together on the couch under a blanket
it’s very much a comfortable silence and honestly simon really prefers days like that than when you guys go out
john “soap” mactavish:
okie so soap is all about having new and fun experiences whenever he has free time
so much of his life is spent in the military and he wants to have a lot of fun memories that aren’t work related he can reminisce about when he’s old (or just while he’s bored at work)
whenever he has free time he’ll be spending it with you, even if you’re in the military with him
honestly he just wants to make sure he spends as much time as he can with you, that way if something does go wrong he won’t regret leaving you alone
he’ll take you out on all sort of fun dates and adventures
he loves taking you around town to try out all sorts of restaurants and bars
that being said he’s not a very harsh food critic and he’s mostly just going to try new foods so get ready for a lot of “christ this is so good try it” and “we have to come back here next time”
that being said, if you’re not up to going out or if the weather isn’t right or something, he’s more than happy to spend the day inside with you
he’ll try to cook something with you (the results may be questionable) but it’s okay because you guys spend most of the time laughing anyways
he’s also down to cuddle on the couch and binge a new tv show with you if that’s more your style
he won’t say this out loud (but it’s very obvious) but his favorite genre of tv is reality tv
he gets soo invested in all of the drama and he definitely eats up all of the overly dramatic videography and editing
kyle “gaz” garrick:
hmm so during his free time gaz really likes to listen to/discover new music
he’s got a really broad taste of music and so one of his favorite things to do when he has free time is go around to bars/clubs and just listen to the local bands
of course whenever he can he’ll go to concerts of his favorite artists but with expenses and his busy schedule those are pretty few and far between
he loves to take you with him on these little musical adventures though
many of your nights have been spent at crowded pubs listening to a band play while you guys talk about something dumb that makes you guys laugh
either that or having way too philosophical conversations that would probably be more suited to a university philosophy lecture than a pub with sticky tables and cheap beer
but gaz has had some of the best conversations of his life with you at those pubs so he doesn’t mind it
that being said, if you’re at that point in your relationship gaz really likes taking you to visit his family
he really loves his family, especially his younger siblings, and so whenever he has the chance he goes to visit them and check up on them
and it’s so much more fun when you come along
he’ll take you and the kids out for some ice cream at the old shop he used to frequent when he was a boy
he always gets lime sherbet and rocky road on a waffle cone whenever he goes
and do not yell at him because he swears that it is a good combination because you get sweet and you get sour and it’s not like the flavors even mix together that much so it’s fine
john price:
okay so price is a little bit like ghost in that he likes to spend his free time with just cuddling and sort of relaxing
usually with a crossword and a cup of tea, especially in the mornings
but when he has a little more free time he does really like going to see the arts
i’m talking theatre, dance, museums, concerts (but he tends to lean towards classical or jazz/blues, he just doesn’t understand rap/hip hop i’m sorry)
he’ll always take you with him if you’re down to go as well
and yes during christmas season he always takes you to see the nutcracker
that being said price isn’t really a fan of very many musicals
he feels like it’s kinda hard to understand what they’re saying during the songs and then he just has no idea what’s going on
afterwards he’ll take you out to a nice restaurant so you guys can talk about everything you saw
but if there’s nothing good around he’ll take you back home and make you a home-cooked meal
i feel like price definitely has two homes, a small house (or maybe apartment) in the city and then a cabin somewhere in the woods
what can i say the housing market was a lot different when price was buying his cabin
usually he’ll take you to his cabin during the winter, and then his city place is used for the rest of the year
alejandro vargas:
alright alejandro is a little older than soap and gaz and so his days of partying and going out are past him
i mean don’t get me wrong he can still throw a mean party but his body just doesn’t bounce back the way it used to
so like ghost and price he tends to spend his free time with you in a more reserved way
i think alejandro is probably a really good cook and so that comes into play a lot during his free time
whenever he’s home he’ll practically refuse to let you cook or order anything and insists that he can make it for you
he likes to spend his weekends testing out new recipes or making new foods that you can make when he’s gone
because he always drags you along to the kitchen with him and has you learn how to cook it with him
honestly he’s a teacher/leader at heart and so it’s almost like therapeutic to be teaching you how to cook and stuff
i mean it’s combining like three things he loves: cooking, teaching, and you
once he’s done making the food he’ll cozy up with you on the couch and turn on a show you’ve already watched while you eat, that way he can talk to you and ask you for feedback
honestly he’s a romantic and it shows when he spends his free time with you
he also really loves giving himself (and you) a little spa day a few days after he comes back from duty, just to really decompress and forget about all the stress of work
rodolfo “rudy” parra:
okay so honestly rudy doesn’t really have one thing that he loves doing during his free time
actually wait no he does it’s either building legos or watching other people build legos
that being said, he can’t always do that or sometimes it just gets boring and so really his favorite thing is just spending time with you
wherever you take him, he’ll follow
whether that’s shopping, doing chores, watching a movie, getting dinner
as long as he can look at your face, you could be telling him to jump off a cliff and he’d die happy
what can i say he’s absolutely smitten for you and he’s so like eager it’s amazing
that being said if neither of you have any plans he’ll beg you to stay in bed with him the whole day and you guys will just cuddle while you scroll on your phones or talk about random things
he likes to watch a lot of youtube and he’ll always point out little things he thinks are cool/funny for you to look at
and if you don’t understand it he’ll explain it all to you and why it’s interesting/relevant
honestly though, he really just likes cuddling or sleeping with you during his free time
he’s usually pretty exhausted or beat up whenever he comes home and so spending the day with his head on your chest just sounds like heaven to him
valeria garza:
alright let’s be real being a drug lord is no easy feat and so valeria doesn’t get as much free time as she would like
but when she does get time for herself she’s probably gonna be spending it on you instead
honestly i really see valeria as the kind of person to really spoil you
i mean being el sin nombre brings in a lot of cash so she certainly has the resources to do it
i think if she’s coming home to you, she’ll have to take a minute to decompress for a bit
even though she likes to be the provider in the relationship, she likes it when you hold her for a bit just when she gets home so she can let all her problems melt away
she wants to leave el sin nombre and all the cartels and drugs behind whenever she’s with you
even if you’re involved with it with her, she’d much rather keep that stuff out of her home life
once she’s rejuvenated though she’ll insist on taking you out
usually it’s shopping, dinner, a movie, a party, etc.
okay i’m gonna get into some like psychological stuff but like, i feel like being a woman in a male dominated field (the military and drugs), she feels like there’s sort of like a subconscious need for her to be more masculine, and so she does this by providing for you financially through gifts and stuff like that
but also when it’s all over and the drugs and the shopping and all of it is gone, valeria also just really likes cuddling with you
she’s a big fan of late night pillow talk because it’s a chance for her to release some steam/be vulnerable which she really can’t do during her day-to-day
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Old Bones | Chapter Eight
Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does.
Warning(s): toxic/abusive relationship, PTSD themes, blood and gore, violence, death, gun mention, hurt/comfort, strong language
Word Count: 6k
A/N: long chapter for u guys<3 (not proofread in its entirety)
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Quatervois
You waited at the counter until the hum of his truck was far into the distance, then removed yourself from the stool, dumping out the untouched cup of tea.
It was time to get everything you prepared together.
The truth was, when you stormed up to your room, you hadn’t slept a wink. First, you laid out the only warm outfit you had left; that thick pair of jeans, and one of your sweatshirts. The coat Simon lent you was downstairs, so you would wait until morning for that.
It felt like an eternity—waiting for the brooding bodyguard to finally hit the hay. He spent longer reflecting on the argument than he actually did work, which you’d see when you occasionally poked your head around the landing to spy on him.
When his bedroom door finally closed, you crept down the stairs and found yourself seated in front of his laptop, still up and running, displaying a search image of the location Cal had messaged.
It was one of the old offices used by his employers—a large, no longer operational building. Neighboring it was the progression of building a strip mall; vacated or bulldozed structures.
With its vast dimensions and emptiness, the location became an ideal spot to get cornered.
You clicked on the navigation icon and purchased a ticket departing from the nearest train station. A few streets over from the meet point, that’s where it would drop you off.
The walk was manageable enough, and you already made up your mind the second your phone buzzed that day.
You squatted below the sink, reaching in the under cabinet for the pack you packed during the night. If Simon spotted you in those warm clothes, his suspicions would get the better of him—so, it was better to change now, in the kitchen, so you could be out the door behind him as soon as possible.
After you slipped them on, you folded the ones you were previously wearing and left them on the countertop.
The clock loudly ticking displayed the time you were running out of—6:48. If you were going to make it to the train station by eight, you needed to get moving.
When you reached the front door, a smaller bag slung over your shoulder, you cased the place again. One, to make sure you hadn’t left anything behind; two, in case this adventure went horribly wrong.
Though plagued by solitude and adverse weather, your time here proved to be warmer than any day spent with Cal, and that counted for something.
With swiftness, you reached for the coat rack and put on that thick coat. If you had any chance of making the walk, you were going to need it. You palmed the pistol residing inside the bag, then the ticket receipt you printed off folded in your pocket.
Everything was in order, in spite of this being a fresh, completely reckless plan.
Your crunching steps continued seamlessly, off the porch and onto the snow-hidden dirt path. Your own sense of direction was the sunrise, guiding you along the well-trodden path. The tree branches above form a natural archway, like a portal leading from solitude to society.
The cabin behind them grew smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing from view, swallowed by the dense trees.
The chilly embrace of winter wasn’t much of an embrace at all. It stung at all your uncovered skin as if pricking you with a thousand tiny needles. Each breath expelled into a small cloud in front of you, increasing when there was a steep incline.
With each step, the snow deepened, but you pushed forward, following the trail that would eventually take you to the nearest town. Lights from the distant buildings began to pierce through the forest's darkness, beckoning like beacons of civilization.
That is if you could call it a town—it was a truck stop and a diner off an exit. You thought ahead several hours before, scheduling a taxi to take you to the train station. It was the only logical way to make it there ahead of Simon.
Alas, after a few minutes of waiting, the driver pulled into the icy lot of the rest stop. Neither of you made an attempt for conversation. He was most likely disgruntled making the trip out here, and you were on the way to face your past.
You let out a loud sigh finally resting your fatigued legs in the backseat, slipping him the last of your pocket cash.
The journey from the cabin had been more than just a walk; it was a journey from seclusion to your next chapter, a possibility of putting an end to this hell. If not, maybe it was that twisted fate catching up to you, just like you thought it would.
—
The rhythmic clattering of the train wheels was the only overbearing noise as you were peering out at the passing landscape. The scenery was a blur, much like your thoughts. Too chaotic for the memories to resurface, and too quick to grasp what you were walking into.
That morning, there was no speech in the mirror. You’d only thought of getting there, not what you would do when this train came to a stop.
Clammy hands fidgeted with the hem of their jacket, then placed a reassuring hand on the gun in your bag, as if to be sure of its presence all over again.
When it went through a tunnel, the low hum of conversation from fellow passengers only served as a reminder of the forthcoming confrontation that you couldn't avoid any longer. There would be no time to hesitate, or force yourself into silence—it was all going out in the open.
As the train approached its destination, you felt like your heartbeat synchronized with the slowing rhythm of the wheels. The minutes felt like eternity, each tick of the clock amplifying their unease. This was utterly insane, but you couldn’t back out now.
Finally, the train came to a halt, and the station name flashed on the windowpane. You were the first passenger to scramble with your luggage and hurry onto the platform.
Though trains were faster than cars, you never made the mistake of underestimating Simon’s determination.
You strolled through the narrow aisle, faces of other passengers passing by in a blur. You were on autopilot until you reached the neighboring streets, then you were agonizingly lucid.
The winter chill gripped the city streets, leaving a thin layer of frost on the pavement. You pulled their coat tighter around your frame, the cold seeping through the fabric and sending shivers down your spine.
The city seemed to hibernate under the winter's grasp. The streets, probably once bustling with activity, now wore a quiet and somber demeanor. The bare trees stood like sentinels, their branches reaching towards the gray sky, and the occasional snowflake drifted gently from above, adding to the melancholic picture.
As the destination drew nearer, your steps became slower, hesitant. The heart in your chest pounded loudly, and each breath felt shallow. It was as if the city itself sensed your trepidation.
Once you had made it through the suburbs, you were encroaching on the meeting spot. You could spot the height of the building from down the dead street. Not a construction worker, or even a jogger in sight.
In comparison with the demolition, it looked nearly abandoned.
Then, you laid eyes on the office building. Its windows were fogged up from the warmth inside, and its stature was backlit from the risen sun.
One car in the lot, and it wasn’t Simon’s truck. It was a black SUV, probably the very one Cal came here in—rented, just for this meeting.
You could’ve been walking into anything—dead before the door closed, but that was an outcome you were already well prepared for. It wouldn’t be the first time you stared death in the face, either.
Your first look at the interior wasn’t a half-demolished office space, or a dark and abandoned one. It looked to be freshly un-operational, given the fact that the fluorescents were on, and your shivers were soothed with a running heating system.
The design was bland and contemporary, with an absence of decorative clutter. Polished marble tiles covered the floor, their smooth surface reflecting the soft glow of recessed ceiling lights overhead.
The walls were adorned with tasteful and artistic decorations, such as abstract paintings, which hadn’t been removed yet. Beside them were nails still embedded in the walls, most likely where the employees once hung their achievements.
There was a dedicated cubicle for security, cameras and a buzzer to access the upper levels. You ran your fingertip over the dust coating the top of it, though the access buttons wouldn’t be of much use.
There was an elevator already waiting, with a box placed in the door so you could board it. He’d already thought of everything, naturally, though the mere thought of him made you chunderous.
When you stepped inside, your fingers hovered over the buttons until you remembered the signs. If you were to take a guess, he had probably chosen the CEO floor for himself. With a few hesitant clicks, you were on your way up.
You took advantage of the time, removing the pistol from your bag and into your waistband. Within a minute, the doors opened to an even more luxurious floor than the ground. A long hall leading into the CEO’s office. A rug ran the course of it, only blank side tables and a fake plant filling the numbing space.
Your guess concerning the floor was correct, given the fact you were faced with an assistant as his. Much like him, only more tweedy and straight to the point.
Your wired expression did little to phase his blank one. He outstretched a hand toward your coat, slipping it off your shoulders for you, and then taking your bag for you. You pondered, if he knew what was in store for you, if he was a part of this plan, if he even knew who he was working for?
He took the leading position, guiding you to the office. The hallway seemed to stretch infinitely, prolonging the inevitable confrontation ahead of you, if there was one. A logical person would think he would’ve killed you a long time ago if that’s what he wanted, but Cal's temperament was anything but logical.
The cold metal of the gun provided a feeble reassurance, icing against the anxious sweat running down the curve of your spine.
The assistant's free hand reached for the metal knob, twisting it with ease. When the door revealed tre office to you, it was dripping with bleak grandeur; large paned windows on the north wall, meeting chairs in the corners, empty floor to ceiling shelves, and the large desk in the middle.
Once you spotted the man seated in that CEO chair, the once confident and brave facade you had constructed now felt fragile, on the verge of shattering into a thousand pieces.
Approaching a year, this was the first time you had seen him face to face. His face remained blank, but not emotionless, like he was just as perplexed seeing you. Still, the eye contact wasn’t any less imperious.
The room's atmosphere was heavy with tension, an agonizing ten seconds before he said a word.
“Set her things outside, and leave us. It won’t be long.” Your pulse was thundering in your ears, but his voice knelled nonetheless.
You turned your head, giving the assistant a pleading look, but he’d already made his journey to the door again.
His feet, which were propped onto the desk in conceit, had now been placed back on the floor. Before you could do anything about it, he was standing a good five feet from you, and it was just the two of you now.
The gun, hidden under their shirt, served as a reminder of the darkness that led you here. All the things that went right, all of them that went wrong. Though the visible wounds had long healed, your inability to move or speak were a visible enough reminder.
“Relax, I’m here to talk.” Cal tongued the inside of his cheek, taking a few steps closer to you again.
When his arm outstretched, you half expected to already be on the ground with the wind knocked out of you, but instead he was grasping for the bottle of whiskey on the table behind you. The moment he’d leaned in, reached around you, that familiar lump in your throat came back.
Though in your mind you were reassuring yourself, your body remembered him; the way your hairs stood up, how your fists clenched at your sides in apprehension.
But he hadn’t done anything. He removed the cork, and poured the malt into two small glasses, reaching one of them out to you.
Your body did the work for you, as if you were watching the scene from an overhead view, not truly the one standing there in front of him. Your fingers gripped the glass, your legs carried you toward the chairs in front of “his” desk—all without a single thought.
It wasn’t until he talked again, that you were forcing yourself to be present in the moment.
“Did you take the truck here?” All the buzzing of the fluorescents, the hum that came from his throat—it was all so overbearing, like your mind hadn’t caught up to sitting in front of him yet.
The traumatic memories resurface with an intensity that made it near impossible to speak, as if the wounds of the past had been freshly reopened.
It took a few seconds to process, before you couldn’t finally open your mouth to reply. “Yes.” Your throat had a dryness to it, leaving your speech weak and aching with hesitation.
Cal's eerie sense of calm had an uncanny ability to make you feel like a cornered small animal. If you could sink further into the chair, you would. Every stare, every movement his hands made, rekindled the nerves you had tried so hard to suppress.
“You should’ve reached out to me sooner,” he scoots the chair back out, making a slow lap around the desk, as if he were a relentless shark, circling its prey in the water.
His drink remained in his hand, but he hadn’t taken a drink from his glass either—it was nothing more than a prop. When he moved from the chair to his feet, yours moved as well, as if acting on an instinct.
You slid your glass across the desk and took a few steps counterclockwise around the desk, but his sluggish rotation continued, and an amused chuckle left his lips as you maintained the distance.
“Do you have any idea what it was like, cops at my door on Christmas Eve? I was worried sick, had to clean up that mess myself.” He only continued his point from before, both of you halting the circle you’d made around the large desk.
When you failed to answer him again, you failed to keep moving as well. Your eyes followed him from top to bottom, the placement of his feet as he glided, the position his fists were in.
And now, he was a foot from you. “You took the truck here?” He questioned again, his tone dripping with mockery toward the lie you’d told him.
“It was me.” Your last trace of your determination surfaced alongside the lie.
A wicked beam spread across his face as he detected the lie woven into your words. You studied the chilling glint in his eyes as he savored the moment.
Cal stepped closer again, examining your dwindling confidence, feasting on it. No matter how loudly your mind bellowed to move, to get out of there, your legs remained rooted in the spot.
With a low, mocking chuckle, he leaned in closer, so close you could smell the intoxication on his breath. “I would believe you,” his arm shot out, making you jolt in surprise.
He reached around your waist, pulling the revolver from your waist band, “but you were always a shitty liar, Babe.” The iron in his hand was sent flying across the floor, landing somewhere by the door, now too far for you to reach for without attempting to run.
You couldn’t conceal how you flinched when the piece hit the wood floor, echoing off the walls and replaying in your head just like his taunts—how he was speaking now, how he did then, all composed into a head-splitting, taunting symphony.
All the words you had rehearsed, all the things you wanted to say to him, evaporated like mist before you could utter another syllable. He was relishing in the power, how he’d caught you in his grip again with just a few words.
The once fierce voice within you, which had screamed to run, now echoed with a sense of despondence. Why had you come here? What made you believe you could confront him?
The world around you blurred, like you were still watching this unfold from above. The past plagued you, as if you were still the same you from a year ago. He’d reduced you into something so small, without laying a hand on you.
Deep within, a voice pleaded for escape, for you return to reality. Cal’s arrogance was like a suffocating thundercloud, building and building until he found the weakest spot to strike. His words were like sharp daggers, aimed to wound and control, slicing through your healed scars like a relentless storm.
The blizzard howled around Simon’s truck, swirling snowflakes obscuring visibility like a relentless white curtain. The snowflakes danced wildly in front of the headlights, creating an otherworldly scene of swirling white.
Inside the car, his heart pounded with a mix of nerves and adrenaline, as well as self-reproach for how he behaved. He left you behind to finish the job, at least what he was telling himself was “just a job”. No matter what he told himself, or how many times, his deep regret was his motivation to finish it.
He had to, because it was for you. Even if it was his last act of service before he dropped you off in town, collected his last envelope of cash, he had to do this.
The road stretched ahead, an endless tunnel of white, and Simon pushed forward, trusting the sticky note he pasted on his dash with the address scribbled on it. With every passing mile, his mind was focused on the task at hand, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on his tense shoulders.
The snowfall threatened to obscure any landmarks or points of reference, but he spotted the tall building through the low-visibility, nonetheless. It looked like the images he pulled up, only without the decor on the outside, or the plague above the double doors.
The blizzard wrapped the area in an eerie silence, which was what Simon noticed next. One SUV in the front; he brushed away the ice coating the windows, finding it empty.
He kept his head down as he advanced up the entrance, placing a firm hand on the entrance door’s handle.
Whether it was an army, or just Cal, he was well-prepared for whatever he was walking into.
The silence was wrenching among other things; how long he stared into your eyes, but you couldn’t divert yours from his, the way he ran his thumb over the rim of his glass before setting it down, still an uncomfortable inch from your face.
“Did you come here to kill me?” He queried, licking along his bottom lip as if he already knew the answer. Cal didn’t need your answer, your face already was one.
“Do you have any idea what I’ve done for you?” He just kept going, increasingly losing his composure the longer you were cornered before him. For once, it wasn’t wrath, it was his faux tenderness. His fingers found the hem of your shirt, then ran up to your shoulders to place his palms on each of them.
Your murmur was pathetic, finally ripping your gaze from his. “Cal…”
It wasn’t that he made you pity him, but it was how close he was to you for so long, whether he treated you badly or not. He was still a piece of you, legally your other half. How the both of you changed so much, during and after the marriage—it was arcane.
The months of pent up emotion had begun to pool corners of your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. How close he was, the familiar feeling of his breath on your neck—a disturbing reminder of all the sensations you tried so hard to bury.
When his fingers began to slide down your arms, it was taking every bit of your being not to headbutt him in the nose, just like Simon had taught you.
Next, his hands engulfed yours, running over the small nicks and scars that littered them. “I forgive you, for leaving me. I just… Let my feelings for you get the best of me sometimes, you know that?”
Unfortunately, you did understand, in more ways than one. With no lifeline in reach anymore, all you could do was stand there, hoping whatever end to this would come soon.
Whether it was you, or him with blood drawn, wasn’t your concern anymore. You only concerned yourself with never having to do this again. All those things you thought of saying to him, all the fury-driven plans you once had; null and void now.
It felt mortifying, how he so effortlessly diminished your credence—that he was, in fact, the problem.
“Do you forgive me?” As he shifted his hands to your waist, his grip intensified, enough to leave visible imprints even through the fabric. He began to lean in closer, his alcohol-soaked lips brushing against your cold-chapped ones.
Instincts took over, a primal force pushing you into a state of defense. Your muscles tensed, fisting the glass of whiskey on the desk in front of you. When you found it, you used every ounce of your force to smash it against his temple.
It hit his skull with a sickening thud, releasing a cascade of whiskey that splattered in all directions. Tiny fragments of glass danced in the air like deadly confetti, glinting maliciously under the dim light. Some landed on you, as did the amber liquid.
When your eyes released their squint, he was still keeled over, holding the impacted skin.
“You fucking bitch…” His speech came out a pained growl, prompting you to hasten in the direction of the door, where the gun was still laying.
His stomps were close behind, nearly making you lose your footing before you reached the piece. It found your sights, iron glinting in the light where he’d thrown it.
Your fingers touched the cold metal only a few moments, before his hands clasped your shoulders and jerked you back. The snow on the bottom of your shoes made you slide, causing you to land on your back, scrambling for the gun again.
But he was quicker, always, and now blinded by agony-induced rage. “After everything!” His eyes were still winced, his teeth still gritted, but his hands found you again quickly, practically bolting your body below him.
“I lied to the cops, to protect you.” You batted at his chest, his throat, attempting to claw at his weak points, but he pinned your wrists next with just one of his hands. “All I asked, was that you fucking listen to me!” He showed little struggle, his other hand finding its way to the collar of your shirt, which he used to plummet your head into the ground a few times.
All while he did it, his voice was anything but a yell—it was a low, calculated grumble, like he had stewed on his plans for months.
Your head was spinning, too cloudy to do anything after the impacts, though the strength of your struggling limbs did little in opposition. This was it, the day he would finally catch you, do what he’d always planned on doing.
His actions mirrored that of Christmas Eve; you, below him and helpless, while his hands leave you battered and loathing. It was like you were watching an instant replay of that night, all over again—his brows furrowed in sinister concentration. You blocked out the sight with closed eyes, refusing him to be the last thing they see.
It seemed he had an unshakable hold on the situation, as he always did. You were trapped in an inescapable hold, unable to do anything more than pray it be quick and painless.
Simon already had his pistol drawn as he cleared each room, eyes sharp and focused on any sign of enemies. The lobby was empty, only a few signs of melting footprints leading him to the elevator, which did not respond when he pounded on the buttons.
After a few smacks, it dinged, as if he had been granted access to it. There were no spare minutes for questions, he needed to find Cal, and now.
If he wasn’t on the ground floor, he was probably on the top.
The ride was agonizing, with no sounds of people, only the grinding of the track as it went up the elevator cables. When the doors slid open, he raised his pistol in front of him, in search of the target.
The hallway leading to the grandest office was empty, but someone had been there recently. He next examined one of the side tables, still with an idle steaming cup of coffee placed on it. And next to it, items that made his heart race; the coat he lent you placed next to your backpack.
He couldn’t believe his eyes, or his racing thoughts. You had somehow gotten here first, or worse, been abducted from the cabin after he left. Simon was already cursing himself for betraying you, if he was the reason Cal found you too, he would never forgive himself.
A hand found his shoulder, but it wasn’t an attacker. Nonetheless, he whipped around, expecting it to be Cal. It was a suited man, probably the one who collected your things before you were taken to the next place.
He thought he was angry before, but that was nothing. He could practically feel his throat burn as he shoved the man into the wall, the barrel deep into his stomach.
“Where did he take her?” He hissed, his other hand an iron grip on the assistant’s shoulder. The man took too long, still stunned and overpowered. “Don’t have bloody time for this.” The silenced pistol moved from his stomach to his head with swiftness, and he pulled the trigger just as quick.
His body, now dead weight, slid down the wall with a trail of blood following him. The only remaining door was the CEO office—his last hope of finding you.
The sound of a struggle was hard to miss; a glass breaking, a thump, and the muffle of an irate male voice.
Simon lost all semblance of stealth, thumping down the floor of the hallway until he reached the door, kicking it just below the lock with all of his force. It split open on impact, but the scene in front of him didn’t change.
He recognized Cal from behind, wearing one of his signature suits, but it was now scuffed and stained with crimson. With only seconds of studying, he spotted your shoes peeking out underneath him, kicking about as he gripped your throat.
You were losing your vision, eyes only catching glimpses of Cal’s concentrated expression as began putting pressure on your windpipe, using all of his force. It was a scalding, stinging sensation from your throat to your eyes, sending the taste of blood on your tongue as you gasped for the oxygen already lost.
The smacks you were giving, the tugs on the fabric of his suit, they were unsuccessful at releasing his ever-tightening grip.
A loud buzzing filled your ears once the ringing muffled itself; dark spots clouded your vision one by one, like rain droplets engulfing you. Once again, for the last time, he had overpowered you, only this time the window of opportunity had long closed.
Your once trembling limps had begun to go limp, vision nearing that final close of unconsciousness. The grunts and pleas were long squeezed out of you, only a rattling breath now as Cal used the last of his remaining strength to finish the job.
The fear had long disappeared, as did the anger and pain; it was the absence of feeling—your last few glances of him, blinded by his temper, sputtering inaudible curses toward you.
And then—the pressure ceased in an instant, though his hands remained. Without your vision, your other sensations that were dwindling had now gone into overdrive; the pounds of pressure on top of your chest, as you took in a wheezing breath again.
When your eyes forced themselves open again, it was still the same view of the office ceiling, still with that same weight on you.
Disoriented, you craned your aching neck down at yourself, seeing Cal slumped on top of you, his head spurting blood all over you, running through the creases of your skin and down the fabric of your shirt.
It was like your muscles had gained consciousness as well, allowing you to shove the dead weight off of you. His lifeless body rolled itself onto his back, a bullet hole still smoking through the middle of his head.
It was too fast to process yet, how one second you would’ve been laying there, but it was him. Him, who you hated with every fiber of your being, but yet, it wasn’t a feeling of closure.
Your hand reached for your damaged throat, placing a hand on the tender flesh. “Cal…” You said it, just as you did earlier, only so much of a croak the only place you could hear it was your own head.
Now knelt beside his body, you allowed yourself to take in the sight of him—one you knew would never leave you now. How his hands felt around your neck, how gruesome he looked now, and how his blood had covered every inch of you.
The hand once on your throat, you moved it to touch his chest, indeed feeling no beating heart inside it. If it weren’t for Simon’s determined grip pulling you away, you would’ve stared at the sight all night, unable to separate on your own.
His hands were gentle, despite how you attempted to pry them off of you, still in a wide-eyed state of shock. “Don’t look.” You heard him say, through the faint ringing in your ears.
Your body didn’t have the strength to fight him, ending with your head shoved into his chest as he guided you out of the room. He ignored his own advice, giving Cal’s corpse one more lasting look, before he turned his attention fully to you again.
One hand held kept your head buried into his chest, while the other kept his pistol ready just in case, though there were no signs of an ambush coming. Cal had truly set this meet with only one person on his side, intending on the meet ending with you choked out.
When he reached the hall again, he turned your stumbling figure to face the wall, to not see the assistant still slumped over by the elevator. He grabbed the hanging coat and draped it over your shoulders.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, he ushered you inside, concealing your view of the carnage until the doors closed, though he wasn’t sure you were lucid enough to notice, he couldn’t help but shield you.
Simon allowed all of your weight on him as your legs nearly buckled during the ride, keeping you steady for its entirety. When the doors opened, his eyes scanned through the large windows facing the entrance.
Still, only the SUV and his own car remained parked. From what he could tell, this place was dead.
Each guiding step, his eyes were trained on the path ahead, but the coast remained clear. Through the tinted windows, the blizzard had worsened since he arrived. Only the black paint of the two cars through the flurries remained, being his only guide to his truck once he pushed the double doors open.
He palmed the handle to the passenger side, scooping you up and buckling you into the seat with tenderness. Once he took another look around him, spotting nothing but snow in front of him, he climbed into the truck and turned the key again.
You had already passed out in the seat next to him, probably in a mix of shock and fatigue. How you ended up here before him, or why, he didn’t know—what mattered to him was that Cal was dead, and you still had air in your lungs.
He cringed at the thought of nearly being too late, nearly finding lifeless with no sign of Cal—he had found you in time, and your husband was dead and alone, just like he deserved.
—
The headlights illuminated the path up to the cabin, now sometime in the middle of the night after his long drive back. He’d left you in the truck, still dormant with your head against the window.
Simon stepped inside the cabin, only flicking on the hallway light to not overwhelm his eyes, which were exhausted, and well-adjusted to the darkness now. His soaked boots squeaked against the tile as he reached for the faucet, turning the knobs until it was the right temperature.
While the faucet ran, he retreated outside again, lifting you into his arms again.
Your eyes reopened at the sudden disturbance, but you allowed yourself to be carried into the cabin again. You were in no position to fight him, and quite literally couldn’t speak against this pampering.
He used his foot to close the passenger door, then the front door. His carrying continued, holding all of your weight with no strain on his muscles. It was nothing to him; even if it was, he owed you this at the very least.
The remaining energy you had left was put into keeping yourself upright when he set you down. He cut off the faucet, putting his fingers in the water once more to test its warm temperature.
Your eyes remained half-lidded, bloodshot from their lack of oxygen hours ago. His fingers remained gentle, merely brushing against you as he lifted the hem of your shirt until it was off your head.
He kept his eyes trained on the wall ahead as he undressed you, getting you out of the blood-soaked clothes clinging to you. He tossed each piece to the side, then allowed you to get into the bathtub on your own.
When you lifted each sore leg over the edge, he kept his arm out for grabbing. Still, his eyes roamed anywhere but you, allowing you the privacy to sink deep into the water without his prying eyes.
You lowered yourself into the warm water, an audible sigh of relief when it soothed your muscles. The transparent liquid slowly turned a deep merlot the deeper you sank, slowly soaking off the blood stains that littered you.
Limp hands gripped each side of the tub, a blank stare up at the ceiling of the room—the only part of you he did pay any attention to.
“Do you need my help?” He muttered, about to turn and leave you to bathe on your own.
You only responded by a slow head shake, though, it was clear you wanted to say something. At first, he only nodded and reached for the knob, respecting your need for isolation right now.
“Simon,” he heard you croak, prompting him to turn his head again, “stay in the room.”
He dropped his hand, only giving you one more look of reassurance before he returned to his place by the tub. He heard the sound of you scrubbing your skin, the water sloshing around.
Simon waited patiently with his back turned as if it was second nature to him. It wasn’t—this tenderness was new to him, and he didn’t want to stop.
TAGLIST: @random-thot-generator @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @illyanam1011 @stunkbiggu @bi-witch-bxtch @warm-milk-with-honey @xheera @kiamewrites @01trickster10 @m0chac0ffee @tizylish @midwesternwitchery
#mw2#call of duty#mw2 fanfic#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost mw2#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#simon riley fluff#simon riley smut#simon riley angst
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Haunted House - Satoru Gojo
cw: power play, pet names, begging, teasing
After having to cling to Satoru through your fears during a date, he pushes for you to admit to him how much you'd really needed him.
minors+ageless dni.
2.3k words
Gojo had caught your attention as soon as you'd laid eyes over him. Towering above most at over six-feet tall, white hair falling delicately over his pale skin, a smirk playing at his lips. Most passers-by would have noticed him - but lucky for you, he'd noticed you too.
Departing from the small group of friends he'd been sat among in the corner of the cafe, he'd come to you, asking for your number. An act you'd have expected from a man with such presence and confidence, though one you couldn't have imagined happening to you. Typing the digits into his phone with a shaking hand, you'd glanced around with a puzzled expression, awaiting someone to tell you this was all a prank - but it hadn't been. He'd texted the next day asking for drinks, and you'd obliged.
He was charming. A little full-of-himself, but that had been part of the friendly banter he'd played, a mischievous grin on his face as you'd spoken about your lives, drink in hand. Unexpectedly, when he'd walked you home he hadn't asked to come inside, instead planting a soft kiss on your flushed cheeks as he'd left. Two more dates had the pair of you growing a little closer, the third about to occur.
You'd already been nervous before, and during, the time you'd spent with the male, over-thinking how you'd looked, sounded, smelled - no minor detail was untouched, for you'd thought of each possible way you'd be able to scare him off. Today had been a little worse, though. Satoru had nagged you for the entirety of your last date - he wanted to take you to a haunted house.
You were dubious at first, but eventually agreed as he'd appeared to adamant and excited, teasing you lightly about being 'too scared'. There had been a Halloween event in a neighboring town, one in which held various scare-mongering activities, the house being the largest part of the experience as it had held paid actors, dark lighting and narrow rooms. You had to navigate each room until finding the exit.
Satoru had picked you up, the drive being pleasant despite your growing nerves, shaking leg and lump in your throat signifying your anxiousness as he'd pulled into the car park. A frightened look on your face had him laughing, encouraging you to calm down when you'd stepped from his car, his arm landing itself over your shoulders with a comforting squeeze.
The action had your heart racing. You weren't entirely sure as to why; the pair of you had kissed prior to this, and of course he'd given you a hug when leaving before, but the fact he'd gone out of his way to provide reassurance had made your mind race with unruly thoughts. It had been an instinct to want to be protected, right? It was probably some sort of innate response you'd been unable to control.
After queuing for a little while, you'd been allowed entry into the part of the date you'd been dreading. Satoru had been speaking with you whilst you'd waited, your apprehension had been at the forefront of your brain.
You stepped through the wooden frame, into a dimly lit hall decorated in cobwebs, smudges and other decorations in which the walls had attempted to look decrepit. Satoru took your hand in his as you'd tried to calm yourself, a little more focused on the male beside you than your surroundings; how he'd taken your hand so gently, and swiped his thumb over the back of it for reassurance. Seeing the softer side of him bubble up after enduring his self-indulgent babble had been something that made your stomach churn in trepidation - the good kind.
But, with your abandonment to the environment's layout, a scream left your lips as you'd been shocked by one of the actors jumping out at you, side crashing into Satoru's towering figure as they'd had their face inches from yours, encouraged by the scream you'd fed them to continue the scare you until you'd entered the next room. A breath left your lips as you'd composed yourself for the new space you'd entered, this one differing slightly with bars on the walls, a few arms pushed through and grabbing at you. Your heart was pounding, not from the jump-scare you'd just endured, but from how your body had clashed into your date's, hand gripping tightly to his for comfort.
You felt his gaze fall solely on your reactions to the surroundings; being your protector had made his chest tighten, able to see the amount of trust you'd laid in your trembling soul to have him be your shield to everything that had alarmed you.
As time had gone on, you'd eased up little by little, but still had your grip tight around his. When the cool air of the autumn wind had caressed your warmed cheeks, you'd felt somewhat disappointed, not wanting to depart from the embrace you'd come to love, but no longer having an excuse for the touch.
You'd found a bite to eat before heading back to his car, exchanging a few awkward glances when the pair of you had the memory of the other's imprint on them. The car journey back to your apartment had been quiet other than the small-talk you'd partaken in, an attempt to ease up the tense atmosphere. Satoru hadn't been invited into your home before, and today when you'd anxiously asked the question, he'd had no choice but to take up your offer.
Earlier in the day you'd tidied, with the hope that the male would be joining you tonight, offering to share a drink with him before he would return home. Stepping through the apartment door, Satoru eagerly behind you, you'd walked him through to the lounge. Watching as his eyes admired the furnishings in your home, with the sweet smell of the candles you'd been burning hours before, he settled himself on the couch.
"What would you like to drink?" You'd questioned, your date elongating his arm and tilting his head, a smile on his lips as he'd watched you from the couch.
"Nothing right now, just come here." Satoru had spoken, youself grabbing the remote to the television before taking a seat beside him. He was back to his usual cocky self as he placed his arm around you, watching the screen before you as you surfed through channels, settling on a rerun of a show you hadn't cared much about, focused on how you were able to feel his embrace once more.
You leaned into him, heart practically beating through your mouth at the move you'd taken.
"Did you have a good time?" He questioned, as you'd felt the vibrations of his voice bellow through his torso and penetrate the skin you'd laid so delicately on him.
"Yeah, it was fun." You replied, knowing he had been about to throw a one-liner at the way he'd chuckled at your response.
"You seemed pretty scared to me, sweetheart."
The use of the name had your breath hitch in your throat, and he'd laughed once more at your reaction, enjoying the small game he'd played with you. You lifted your head from its position on his shoulder, eyes warily raising to meet his blue ones. He'd studied your face, lifting his hand to cup at your cheek in order to bring you closer, pressing his lips to yours. It had been as the others had been; delicate pecks, slowly moving his lips against yours for a few moments before pulling back. This hadn't been a good-bye kiss, though.
"Did you need someone to protect you?" He questioned teasingly, to which your stunned expression silently replied, a shake of your head to deny the accusation. "Really?" He ridiculed, finger swiping over your glossy lips, eyes maintaining their gaze with yours. "I thought for a minute there you'd needed me, but if not," Satoru stood, leaving the skin of your face bare as he'd reached to grab the jacket he'd discarded beside the arm of the couch. "I'll be on my way." Your mouth fell open at his actions, but you'd been aware it was his way of getting you to admit yourself to him.
"Don't-" You began to speak as he'd turned back, malevolent grin spread wide.
"Well, if you don't need me, why am I here, sweetheart?" You sighed at the display, closing your eyes as you allowed yourself to form the sentence you knew would be your demise.
"I need you, 'Toru." You pouted, watching as he placed the jacket back down over your coffee table, fingers eagerly caressing your cheek while he'd peered down at you.
"You should've just told me, baby."
Satoru knelt down, head level with your own, stealing another soft kiss. His fingers trailed from your face to slip under the hem of your t-shirt, soft cotton tickling the skin as he'd raised the garment, slipping it over your head. Hands trailed the curve of your body, admiring the soft skin, blue eyes flickering over each dip and bump, finally landing on the button of the trousers you'd worn.
The pair of you undressed, and you'd laid back on the couch, Satoru lining himself up between your folds as he dipped in. Your back arched on the cushion, a gasp leaving your lips at the sensation, hands reaching to grasp something for comfort. His hands found their way to your wrists, holding them above your head as he moved, pushing them into the arm of the chair.
"Good girl." Voice deep in a whispered tone, he thrusted once more, slowly edging out of you before slapping his hips forward with a groan. You'd helplessly screamed out as he'd had his way with you, unable to contain the moans coursing from your mouth as his cock filled you up.
"Tell me how much you need your pussy filled, baby." Satoru's voice filled your ears as he continued to abuse your cunt with unrushed plunges, enjoying the teasing motion of pushing himself into you, waiting, before quickly pulling out and doing it again. The stretch of your pussy around his cock was intoxicating, wanting to recreate the feeling of when he'd first entered you over, and over again.
"N-need you, please." You'd gasped shakily between his pummels, squeezing your restricted hands to closed fist, desperately attempting to grab at something; to make taking his cock easier.
"Wan' me to fuck you, or tease like this?" He bent forward, a single pound once more while his lips had traced over your cheek, placing small kisses as if to comfort you.
"Fuck me!" You'd whined, begging for some more movement than a single thrust every few seconds, pussy soaked and in need of more attention. Satoru's breath fanned your cheek with a sinister chuckle, another kiss before he'd adjusted, leg bent on the floor, the other on the sofa cushions, cock deep inside your aching cunt.
"Keep them there, sweetheart." Satoru absentmindedly gave the instruction before moving his hands from their grip on your wrists to sit at your hips. You obliged, keeping your arms flush to the fabric, while he'd gripped at your sides, finally pummeling into you at a fast pace. Your eyes rolled upward, head tilting back against the couch as he'd fucked into you at an unrelenting pace.
"Doing so well, baby." His voice was a little less composed as his own grunts and breathlessness had arisen, watching your body writhe under him, watching as your arms had remained in the position he'd had them in - simply because he'd told you to. It was a power trip for him, knowing you'd do anything under his command.
"Want me to touch your pretty pussy?" He questioned, you'd almost been too dazed to reply, letting out a small nod in response. Satoru stilled, completely halting his movements as his eyes glossed over you, waiting for you to meet his gaze in confusion through your stupefied state until talking once more.
"Did your mouth stop working?" He teased as you'd leered over him, catching the way his white hair had flattened over his face, enveloped in the sheen of sweat.
"Please touch me, 'Toru." Goosebumps had risen over your skin at his dominance, though you'd half expected it through his playful mannerisms. He continued the pace he'd been enduring, drilling back into you, this time removing his right hand from your hip, spitting on the thumb and placing it on your clit.
You squirmed under him, wail leaving your mouth at the sensation you'd felt, teeth gritting as you'd almost had the air knocked from you, intense pleasure building. The inside of your stomach tightened with each flick over your clit, paired with his unrelenting pounds into you, you'd been immediately brought to the edge. Satoru felt you clench over him, watching your face as your eyes had watered, mouth wide.
"Cum for me." Satoru's demands were through his own wavering voice, barely able to hold himself together, clenching his body up to stop himself from spilling over the edge before you had.
You let out a scream, clenching around your date as your orgasm raddled through you, muscles shuddering, fingers clawing at the couch's arm above you. So lost inside your own high you hadn't noticed Satoru's cry, eyes squeezing shut while he'd filled your cunt with his seed, cock twitching as your fidgeting body tightened around his milked dick.
After a few moments of silence, panting breaths filling the still air between you, Satoru's lips found their way planting small kisses over your torso, pulling his cock from your whole. Your body had shuddered at the sudden coolness of the air hitting you, a thick droplet of liquids leaving you along with his shaft.
"So good f'r me." Satoru's mumbles met your stomach as he traced one last peck over you, a smile playing on his lips.
#satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojo satoru#anime smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut
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Poetry
Chapter Six - Mr.H
Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff with a swirl of angst
Summary: The night that you see Hyunjin again after your date is full of surprises. You can keep your cool but can he?
Word Count: 5,407
A/N: Things are happening, ya'll. I'm so excited to be back in Fan Fiction land <3 + If you haven't already, I highly recommend reading the previous parts before this one so that you get the ✨full experience✨. See you next Thursday at 6 💕
Part Five
✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧
✧Main Masterlist✧
There wasn’t a moment of silence after Hyunjin left, you spent the entirety of your breakfast answering questions while giving Changbin and Serena as many details as you could before you had to leave for work. You will admit that you appreciate how involved your friends are, especially Changbin. You were almost afraid that he was going to go full big brother mode and quiz Hyunjin the moment that he met him but he actually kept his cool, let’s see how it goes next time.
Speaking of next time, you haven’t seen Hyunjin since your date. The two of you have been texting nonstop and you even spoke on the phone two days ago but neither of you have brought up a plan to meet. He canceled your meetup this week because he had to help his roommate Felix with something upstate. You weren’t mad about it though, you took the free time as an opportunity to look into a new hobby.
You have a bit of a tradition that you started during your second year of university, every autumn you look into building a new skill or taking up a new hobby. You weren’t sure what to get into this year until you saw a flier on your way to work yesterday. Apparently your local community center has a photography club that meets on Fridays where you’re taught everything that you need to know by a professional. There’s no way that you could turn a blind eye to such a wonderful free opportunity. So here you are, walking through the large glass doors and into the quiet lobby. Your brand new Canon camera is placed safely in its case hanging from your shoulder and your tote bag is hanging from the other. You looked up at the digital board by the reception desk to look for the room number for your class. Once you found it you made your way down the hall, humming a smooth tune to try and calm your nerves. You were more than excited but you were almost positive that the club would be filled with experienced photographers looking for community and you are far from experienced.
The door to the room is already open when you reach the room and there are a few people in there talking amongst themselves and fiddling with their cameras. You enter quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself but that fails once you get half way into the room. The group swiftly looks up at you, each one of them studying your frame with furrowed brows and that’s when you notice the elephant in the room… they’re all teenagers.
“Hi, you must be new.” One of the girls breaks the silence. “I’m Mia.”
“Hi, I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You move to sit by the window, right in the middle of the row. You never liked being too far from the instructor but you also hate being in the front.
“I’m James and this is Olivia, she’s a bit shy.” One of the boys sitting against the wall introduces himself and the girl sitting on his lap. Olivia offers a timid wave before looking back down at her camera. You smile, waving back at her.
“Leo, stop being rude. Say hi to the new girl.” Mia pushes the boy sitting in front of her and he curses at her quietly before turning to you and waving passive aggressively. You wave back silently as you try to hold back a chuckle.
“Leo is an asshole, don’t mind him.” Mia explains before glancing down at her phone.
“Two minutes until Mr.H gets here.” James nods his head, only half paying attention as he looks past Mia and over to you, clearly itching to ask you a question.
“Am I crazy or are you the oldest one here?”
“Oh my god, what the hell, James.” Mia’s exasperated voice echoes through the room followed by Oliva’s laugh.
“It’s an observation, fucking shoot me.” You chuckle a bit, nodding your head.
“You’re not crazy, I’m probably about seven years older than you guys.”
“Oh you’re about the same age as Mr.H” You pinch your brows together softly, you didn’t expect the teacher to be around your age. “Maybe we can hook you two up, he desperately needs a girlfriend.”
“What are you going on about, James?” You shift your attention towards the person speaking, that voice sounds so familiar and you realize why as soon as your eyes land on his figure coming through the door. Hyunjin is the teacher?
“I’m just trying to get you a girlfriend, Mr.H” You watch as Hyunjin walks over to the desk at the front of the classroom, he hasn’t looked up from the packet in his hands since he came through the door. You take a moment to admire him, he doesn’t look as dressed up as he usually does, he looks relaxed and cozy. You could get used to this look.
“Why don’t you worry about perfecting your depth of field instead. You’re not here to get me a girlfriend.” Hyunjin smiles to himself as he leans against the desk, still focused on the paper in front of him. The others in the room immediately start laughing and making fun of James.
“That’s what you get.” Mia laughs as she moves from sitting on top of the desk.
“Whatever, Y/n is way too pretty for you anyway.” You cover your mouth as you try to stifle a laugh. Hyunjin immediately looks up at the sound of your name, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Excuse me?” Hyunjin asks before turning his head in your direction. He freezes for a second, his eyes glossing over your frame slowly to make sure that it’s really you.
“Oh um you must be new.” He stands, pushing a hand into the pocket of his worn denim jeans and making his way over to you.
“Yeah I am.” You grin, playing along with him. Once he reaches you he offers you his hand and you immediately take it into your own.
“I’m the photography instructor for this program, you can call me Hyunjin.” He smirks down at you and you nod your head.
“I’m Y/n.” He gives your hand a light squeeze before dropping it.
“It’s a pleasure to have you in our club.” He winks at you before turning on his heels and stalking back over to his desk.
“Why can she call you Hyunjin but we can’t?” Mia whines, earning a dramatic eye roll from Hyunjin.
“Because I’m eight years older than you.” You chuckle lightly and Hyunjin smiles at the sound.
“How do you know that she’s your age?” James argues and Hyunjin shrugs.
“Are you guys here to question me or to actually learn something?” The group of teens sigh as Hyunjin starts looking through his bag. “I made a project sheet for today but I suppose I can save that for next week now that we have a new member. Let’s focus on questions and practice for today.”
He pulls a thick folder out of his bag and places it on the desk right next to his massive Sony DSLR camera. You feel a bit intimidated by this side of Hyunjin, he seems to be very in his element here. Maybe he’s been doing this for a while.
“Can we do an object project?” Olivia asks in a soft voice, catching Hyunjin’s attention.
“I like that idea, what do you guys want to shoot today?” You can’t help but stare as Hyunjin talks to the kids, he seems to have a pretty solid relationship with them. You stare down at his Versace bracelet on your wrist as you listen to him talk to the kids.
“Alright so that’s what it’ll be, four photo’s of your favorite place to be in this community center. It can be a place that you have a positive memory of or just a place where you feel the most comfortable. Today's object is a clock, if you don’t have a clock in the shot then it doesn’t count. Get creative, there are no limits. I want two black and white photos and two sepia.” The kids all stand from their seats, pulling their camera straps around their necks and talking about where to go.
“Be back here in forty-five minutes. I will set a timer, please don’t make me come find you.” The group mumbles a half hearted ‘okay’ before turning their attention back to their previous conversation. You take this time to unpack your own camera, turning it on and flipping through the settings. You made sure to watch a couple of videos before coming here but everything that you learned went right out the window once you saw Hyunjin.
“I’ll be right with you, Y/n.” Hyunjin smiles over at you before turning his attention towards Leo. He’s been so quiet that you forgot that he was there. Hyunjin kneels in front of the boy's desk, leaning into his space a bit before whispering. You decided to look away to give them some privacy. Maybe you can manage to google some quick photography tips before he turns his attention to you.
You start looking up photography quick guides on your phone as you wait for him. You get so engulfed in the article that you’re reading that you don’t even notice Hyunjin making his way over to you until he’s sitting at the desk in front of yours. You jump a bit, locking your phone quickly.
“Well this is a pleasant surprise.” He smiles as he leans back against the wall behind him. “You missed me so much that you tracked me down?”
You chuckle, a light blush creeping up your neck. You look over towards where the kids were earlier and notice that they’re all gone. You must’ve been so distracted by your research that you didn’t hear them leave.
“What if I did?” You tease and now it was his turn to blush. “I didn’t know that you’re into photography.”
“Surprise.” You roll your eyes at him and he smiles towards you. “I may be a little into it. I’ve been doing it for about five years, nothing too major.”
“Clearly it is pretty major if you’re certified to teach people.”
“Are you impressed by that? Because if you are then I’ll agree.” You scoff, pushing his arm playfully.
“No comment.”
“That means that you are impressed.”
“Are you going to flirt with me or are you going to teach me how to work this thing?” You ask, holding your camera up in front of you while smiling towards Hyunjin. He surrenders, shaking his head and taking your camera from you.
“You’re right.” He turns your camera on, studying the settings and adjusting things the way that he sees fit. You can’t help but blush a bit as his fingers press the buttons. His gaze turned from playful to focused and serious as soon as you placed the device in his hands. The way that he operates the camera is actually pretty attractive.
Your eyes widen a bit as you realize the nature of your thoughts. This is not the time to think about all of the things that you find attractive about your boyfriend,wait, he’s not your boyfriend. Not really, not officially, he hasn’t even asked you out for a second date yet.
“Alright, so, this camera is actually pretty simple. I’ve adjusted some settings, I’ll show you what they all do and we can get you started on practicing the rule of thirds, sound good?” Hyunjins voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you sit up straighter in your seat. You clear your throat and look up at him as he watches you, his eyes wandering over the exposed skin of your neck for a second before looking up at you.
“Sounds good, Mr.H.”
“How’s this one?” You ask while looking down at your camera screen to study the photo you just took. Hyunjin steps closer to you from behind, looking over your shoulder to get a look at the photo too.
“Perfect, I think that you should be fine without the grid now. Maybe practice eyeing it yourself throughout the week and I can check it for you when we meet next Friday.” You chuckle, turning your head to face Hyunjin and he furrows his brows in confusion. “What?”
“Couldn’t you just check it when I see you next Thursday?” He grins at you, shaking his head and tonguing his cheek.
“Nope, I’m gonna treat you just like everyone else in the club.” You narrow your eyes at him, glancing down at the tiny space between the two of you.
“Like you are right now?” Hyunjin looks down at his hand on the small of your back and pulls his lips into a thin line.
“You’re right, Y/n this is highly unprofessional. I really need you to keep your hands to yourself.” Hyunjins eyes morph into cresents as you push him away from you, scoffing playfully.
“I hate you.” You make your way back over to your desk and Hyunjin walks over to his at the front of the room.
“Are you sure about that?” He pulls himself up onto the desk, sitting and leaning back on his palms. A deep blush runs over your cheeks as he stares over at you with an equanimous smirk adorning his lips. You look down, avoiding his piercing eye contact and now it was his turn to chuckle. “The kids should be back in a second.”
Just as he looks down at his phone the timer that he set earlier goes off. You look over at the door expecting to see them walk through but no one is there. Hyunjin closes his eyes, tilting his head back towards the ceiling and humming softly. Your eyes pinch together in confusion, is he not going to go get them?
“Are you sure they’re coming back?” Hyunjin hums in response, a small smile pulling at his lips before he starts counting.
“5, 4, 3, 2” He points towards the open door and you can hear the loud pitter patter of the group racing down the hallway. “They’re always two minutes late.”
“We’re here!” Olivia makes it into the room first, panting as she makes her way over to her seat. The rest of the group follows behind her, trying to catch their breath as they sit.
“Once you all remember how to breathe we’ll get started.” Hyunjin teases, lifting his head to look at the group. You can’t help but smile, something about seeing him interact with them makes you feel warm. He's a natural leader, in the way that he carries himself, the way he talks to them. He radiates a sense of comfort and confidence in this space and it’s almost rewarding to see.
“Can I go first?” Mia asks as she stares down at her camera.
“Nope.” Hyunjin quips quickly.
“Why not.” She whines and Hyunjin offers an exaggerated sigh in response. “I want to get it over with, Mr.H”
“And that’s why you’ll be going last.” Mia groans, putting her head down on the desk and stomping her feet. Hyunjin immediately imitates her, kicking his feet against his desk and whining. The rest of the group laughs, you even hear a faint chuckle coming from Mia.
“Always remember that I'm ten times more dramatic than you.” Hyunjin teases before sitting up completely. “Alright, let’s do this. Show me what you got James.”
“I think that Olivia wants to go before me.” James sinks down into his seat as he tries to dodge a hit from the girl behind him.
“You threw your own girlfriend under the bus? That’s cold.”
You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t impressed. Each of the kids in this club are amazing at photography, if you saw any of the pictures that they took online you’d think that a twenty year professional was responsible for the art. You’re equally impressed by Hyunjin’s teaching skills, he answered all of their questions flawlessly and made sure that you were still engaged even though you didn’t participate in the activity.
Once class ended Hyunjin texted you offering to walk you home, of course you said yes, you actually did miss him so you couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Your house was only four blocks from the community center but it seemed a lot longer since the city blocks are massive. Usually this would bother you, you’d put some music on and try your best to get the walk over with but you found yourself settling into a comfortable stroll with Hyunjin. You weren’t in a rush to get anywhere, you were grounded, living in the moment.
“How did you start teaching photography?” You asked as the two of you waited to cross the street.
“My mentor set it up for me, he thought that it would be a good way to redirect my emotions.” He chuckles softly, taking a step forward to guide you across the street. “I told you that I was a bad kid but I didn’t really stop getting into trouble until I turned twenty. I met my mentor's son, Chan, a couple of weeks after my birthday when I was taking pictures of Felix for his portfolio. His dad is a photographer and he took interest in me almost instantly, he taught me some stuff and basically became a father to me. He started the club on my birthday last year when he retired from the community center.”
“So you replaced him?” You look over at Hyunjin who seems to be deep in thought.
“Something like that, I’m one of the youth counselors but he was in charge of it all. People treat me like I’m in charge for some reason. It’s probably because I’m so smart and handsome.” He sighs dramatically, pushing his hands into his pockets and shaking his head. “It just isn’t fair, it’s so hard being me.”
“Oh yeah, it’s super hard being a model for luxury brands.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at him and bumping him with your shoulder. “I would hate being a role model for the youth.”
“Hey, this is hard work.” He defends as the two of you stop at the next corner. “But, on a serious note, I do enjoy working with them. I teach two more classes throughout the week and it’s probably what saved my life. Now, I get to help save theirs. Every kid that I teach has gotten into some kind of trouble. I like offering them a space to be themselves and learn something new, I like creating the space that I wish that I had when I was their age.”
You stare over at the crossing light as Hyunjin opens up a bit. It’s so hard for you to imagine the sweet, soft guy standing next to you as an angry teenager fighting everything that looked in his direction. You can’t help but to feel proud of him, he seemed to have really turned himself around for the better. It takes a lot of discipline to correct bad habits.
You keep your eyes trained on the light in front of you, waiting for it to change. Just as it turns green you reach your hand over towards Hyunjins, interlocking your fingers and offering a reassuring squeeze. He keeps his gaze forward as you two cross the street silently but the smile on his face and the blush on his cheeks speak a thousand words. He squeezes your hand back, running his thumb along the back of your hand as you reach the next block. He doesn’t need you to say anything back, your actions speak louder than any sentence you could possibly speak.
“On a different note…” He looks over at you with a grin. “What did you tell your friends about me?”
“I am not answering that.” You start to pull away from him but he pulls you into his side, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulder.
“Let me guess, you told them that I’m the best kisser in the entire world and that I’m so amazing and funny and that you can’t get enough of me.” A goofy smile adorns his lips and you sigh, covering your face to hide your blush. “Aw, she’s shy.”
Before you can protest, your phone starts ringing in your bag and you take this opportunity to escape Hyunjins teasing. Thank god for Changbin.
“Hey, what’s up.” You laugh a bit as Hyunjin presses you into his side more.
“Hey, are you with someone?” You can hear the smile in Changbin’s voice.
“Yup, coming home now.”
“Ah, good, could you do me a favor? I forgot to grab popcorn on the way home. Serena is coming over to watch a movie and that’s the only thing that I don’t have.” You nod, looking up the block and spotting a store on the corner.
“I’ll grab it for you, I’m walking up to a store now.”
“You’re a lifesaver. I’ll see you soon. Oh, and tell Hyunjin that I said hi.” He sings the last part of his sentence before you say bye and hang up. He’s definitely going to question you as soon as you walk through the door.
“Everything alright?”
“Yup, I just need to go into this store.” You lock your phone and slip it back into your bag as you walk up to the store. “And Changbin says hi.”
There’s a group of guys outside of the store but you don’t pay them any mind, Hyunjin follows you closely as you pull away from him to enter the store, you’ve been to this shop a million times so you know where everything is. You make a beeline to the popcorn and make your way over to the counter. The cashier smiles at you as you approach, making small talk as he checks you out. Once you’re done you turn to Hyunjin who’s waiting for you at the door but his demeanor seems to have changed. His arms are crossed over his chest and he has a mean look on his face. You smile over at him as you start to leave the store but he doesn’t smile back, that’s odd. He opens the door for you and you take the lead exiting first and tucking the popcorn into your tote bag.
“Excuse me, you’re looking really good tonight.” One of the guys standing outside of the store steps over to you and you flash him a small smile.
“Thanks.” You start to walk away but he speaks up again, stepping a bit closer to you.
“Can I have your number? I could take you out.” You shake your head, replying with a firm ‘No’ before starting to walk away again. Hyunjin places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you away from the group.
“Come on, don’t be like that.”
“She said no.” Hyunjin speaks up, his voice is loud and flat. You’ve never heard him use this tone before. It’s almost scary. The two of you start walking away again, Hyunjin makes sure to keep you in front of him as the two of you make your way towards the corner.
“I wasn’t fucking talking to you.” The guy follows the two of you. Picking up the pace as the two of you get further from him. “Come on, let me take you out sometime.”
“Keep walking.” Hyunjin whispers to you, pushing you forward a bit. He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to face the guy following you. You can’t help but to look back as you walk away slowly, you can’t just leave him there by himself. Neither of you know what that guy is capable of.
“Do we have a problem?”
~ Hyunjin’s POV ~
I’m using every ounce of my self control to keep my temper in check right now. If this guy decided to mess with me while I was alone that would be a different story but he’s messing with someone that I care about and I don’t like that. This has always been a trigger for me, Felix always says that I get scary when I get mad protecting someone else. I really don’t want that to happen right now, I don’t want her to see that side of me but this guy is making it very hard to hold back.
“How about you mind your business.” He yells in my face, his breath reeks heavy of alcohol, that’s not even fair. If I hit him he’s going to be knocked out almost instantly, drunk people can never take a hit.
“She is my business.” I cross my arms over my chest and clench my jaw. I have to remember that she’s here. I have to keep my cool. “She said no, leave her alone.”
“Ah, I see, she’s yours. Is that it? That’s your bitch?” I bite my bottom lip between my teeth as his last question rings through my ears. Don’t react, not while she’s here. “She likes pretty boys, huh?”
I look back at Y/n, she’s stopped at the corner watching me. I take a deep breath and uncross my arms, turning back around to the idiot in front of me.
“Leave her alone, alright?” I turn to walk away, trying my best to distance myself from him.
“Is this your boyfriend?” He yells over at Y/n but that’s not the only thing that makes me snap. He touched me, he pushed my shoulder as I was turning away and I felt my blood boil instantly. I don’t even remember what I did, my body went into autopilot. I can hear Y/n’s heavy footsteps as I stand over the disoriented stranger. My hand in a fist at my side, I’m shaking, why am I shaking? I haven’t felt this mad in years, I haven’t hit somebody in years, this isn’t how that was supposed to happen. I was supposed to keep my cool, why did he have to fuck it up? The more that reality sinks in, the more angry I get.
“What did I just fucking tell you?” I don’t raise my voice, I never raise my voice, there’s no need to. I bend down, making sure to keep eye contact with him as I grab his shirt, and pull him towards me. “Leave her alone.”
I can hear myself, I can hear the hiss in my tone. I can feel the anger getting to my head, I can feel myself losing to it. That’s my problem, I don’t know when to stop, once I get started it’s hell getting out of it.
“You should’ve listened.” I don’t want to hit him again but I feel like I need to, I need to get this feeling to go away and the only way that I know how is to keep going.
“I’m sorry, man.” He pleads, I knew that he wouldn’t be able to take the hit but that just makes it easier for me. I push him back onto the sidewalk, letting go of his shirt and raise my fist almost by instinct. Before I can lower it I feel a hand wrap around my wrist, I stop for just a second as I remember who this is about. Y/n is with me, she saw everything.
“Hyunjin, get up.” Her voice is firm but somehow soft, I wish that I could just listen to her. I want to listen to her, maybe I can?
Despite my desire to stop, I don't move. My brain and my body are doing two different things and for a moment I feel guilty. This is going to be how it ends isn’t it? She’s going to think that I’m a horrible person, she’s going to hate me for putting her through this. My jaw clenches at the thought of losing her, glancing back down at the man in front of me I feel anger climbing up my spine again. Why couldn’t he just walk away?
“I told him to leave you alone.” I meant for my words to come out softer than they did but I can still hear the hiss in my voice, it’s muffled by the sound of my heart beating in my ears but I can hear it. She steps in between us, trying her best to pull me back, her grip tight and her voice stern.
“Hyunjin, please get up.” In all of the years that I got into fights there has never been a person who could calm me down. I don’t know why it’s different with her, I don’t know why but I don't resist. I allow her to lower my fist, I allow her to stand between us and guide me to my feet.
“Hey, look at me.” I listen, taking a deep breath and turning my attention towards her. I expected her to look angry, I expected her to have tears in her eyes or maybe even look scared. My mom would always be angry, Felix would always look scared but she looks calm. How could she look at me like that after this? I don’t deserve that.
“Good, you’re fine. Everything is fine, come on.” Her hands run over my forearms, as she tries her best to ground me and by some miracle it’s working.
She takes both of my hands and starts to lead me away from him, I keep my eyes on her as we walk over to the corner. I try my best to calm myself down, taking deep breaths through my nose and going through every grounding exercise that I was ever taught. For some reason those techniques aren’t what help me the most, it’s the look in her eyes that's calming me down. It’s the relaxed tone of her voice and the way that she’s guiding me. No one’s ever done this before. I can feel the anger in my body being replaced, it’s that feeling of electricity. That feeling that I only get when I’m with her.
I’m not sure how long we’ve been walking but when I finally come out of my thoughts and look back I don’t see the guy anymore. In fact, I’m pretty sure that we passed her block. We come up on a busier street, nothing too serious just a couple of people going about their night. She guides me over to a bench at the bus stop and we both sit in silence. I close my eyes, running my hands through my hair and sighing heavily.
“Let me see your hand.” Her tone is sweet like she isn’t about to check me for bruises. She reaches for my hand, running her thumb across the back of it and I hiss in pain. That’s definitely going to be a different color tomorrow. “You’re gonna need to ice that.”
“I know the drill.” I reply in a flat whisper. “I’m sorry.”
“He deserved it.” I shake my head, turning to look at her and this time I really looked at her. I let her see the worry in my gaze, I let her see the fear that has bloomed in my stomach.
“I’m not sorry for hitting him. I’m sorry that I almost didn’t stop, I didn’t want to stop and if you weren’t there I wouldn’t have. I would have done everything that I could to make sure that he ended up in the hospital.” I allow my gaze to drift down to my hands and it’s only then that I realize that I’m shaking. I’m still shaking, it must be the fear, not the anger.
“But you didn’t.” Her hand rests over my trembling one, petting my skin softly with the pads of her fingers. I let out a shaky exhale at the feeling of her skin against mine. “I told you that I’d be there to calm you down. I told you that it would be alright if I saw you like that and I meant it.”
“You don’t hate me?” My words leave my mouth in a whisper as I bite my bottom lip. Reluctantly, I look up at her, her expression is still so soft and calm.
“Not one bit.”
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Clowning Around
Summary: Little Charlie (~7 years old) is disappointed to find her brother doesn't think her costume is scary so she kicks the acting up a notch.
Prompt: “You look so cute!” “I’m not supposed to look cute! I’m supposed to scare you!”
Characters: Harvey Specter, Gordon Specter, Donna Paulsen & Charlie Specter
Warnings: Just some references to scary movies and clowns, lack of proof reading. 🙃
Donna set the phone down, heaving a sigh as she looked over the paperwork covering Harvey’s office. “Your dad and sister are on their way up.”
Harvey tossed the file he was reading over down on the small meeting table in front of him and rubbed at his temples. “They’re early.”
Donna shrugged. She knew he’d told his dad to come closer to 1:00, hoping they’d get as much time with the documents as they could, but technically, Harvey was late. Nearly a day late. If this weekend had gone according to plan, Harvey would’ve spent last night out in Riverside with his dad and sister. And after bringing Charlie in on the commuter train this morning, he would’ve spent the morning doing whatever she wanted before heading over to the Halloween dog parade over in Tompkins Square Park. On paper, it sounded like a nightmare. Like something Harvey Specter would have no interest in…but he had been looking forward to it.
He rarely openly expressed it, but Harvey had always liked Halloween. And something about having a kid sister had made it acceptable for him to like it again. A reason to go back to Riverside at the end of September to help them decorate for the holiday. A reason to dress up and go trick or treating. A reason to go to the silly little dog parade his sister had learned about courtesy of an ill-timed news segment. It gave Harvey an excuse to live a little. Because if anyone asked, he was doing it for his sister. For his dad.
Harvey tried to help his dad out. He tried to do most of the travel, carting Charlie to and from the city on the weekends that warranted it because of whatever plans she made with her brothers…so rare was it that Charlie sought their father’s permission, simply informing him ‘Harvey’s taking me here next weekend,’ or ‘I’m going to there with Marcus.’ It wasn’t like Gordon was going to say no to Harvey or Marcus being involved in their sister’s life…his life, so whenever Charlie told her father there was something planned with Harvey, he went ahead and called Donna. Confirmed the details with Donna. Writing whatever off-hand promise Harvey had made to his sister in stone…or at least in his calendar.
This weekend had been in his calendar for weeks, the type of thing that Harvey hadn’t actually needed reminders about since he was looking forward to it…but that was all before Donna accepted a delivery on Friday at 3 pm—boxes and boxes of documents that took up the entirety of Harvey’s office and a conference room down the hall.
Harvey didn’t hear the elevator ding, but he could tell the moment his sister stepped onto the floor, the rush of her small footsteps somehow carrying to him all the way in his office. She kept her excitement contained there—using the extra energy to close the space between them because she knew she wasn’t allowed to yell and shout in her brother’s office. She refrained even though she did question if it was a real rule. Charlie had seen plenty of her brother’s co-workers yelling.
And anyway, there didn’t seem to be anyone here on a Saturday, but Charlie waited until she could see her brother through the glass wall of windows before shouting his name and sprinting into a run, maneuvering through the open doors and around the furniture to launch herself into his arms. Harvey caught her, leaning back into the chair a bit as he absorbed her momentum, unable to stop his laughter as some of her energy transferred to him.
“Hi, Charlie,” Harvey said as he pulled her into his lap. “Where’s dad?”
Charlie stayed pressed against him, but lifted one arm, pointing back towards the door.
Harvey chuckled, holding her as their father entered the room, bags of food in hand. Harvey greeted his father and Charlie finally shifted away from her brother’s chest.
“We brought lunch,” she said, nodding towards their father.
“Your sister wanted to make sure you gave Donna a proper lunch break,” Gordon offered as Donna cleared a spot for him to set down the bags. The look he gave Harvey was clear enough that Harvey knew that their early arrival was in fact Charlie’s idea…Charlie’s insistence. Harvey was sure the girl had been driving their father mad all morning trying to get them on the earliest train into the city that she could negotiate. He was impressed his father had held out this long.
“You been reading up on Department of Labor laws lately?” Harvey tickled his sister’s side.
“No!” Charlie giggled as she shot out of his lap, bumping into the table as she tried to get away from him, but Harvey easily trapped her squirming form in his grasp, a facetiously stern eyebrow raised in question. “But Dad said you probably haven’t taken a break all day and I know that’s illegal. In school we get lunch and recess.”
“Yeah, well, Donna’s not giving recess,” Harvey answered, “But Dad’s right.”
Neither Harvey or Donna had even considered lunch. Harvey hadn’t even gone home the night before, but now that he could smell the food, he was starving.
Charlie squealed when Harvey scooped her up and settled her on the table in front of him.Her dirty sneakers narrowly missed Harvey’s leg as they dangled off the table and Harvey shifted back in his seat. He stroked his chin as he looked at her, observing her costume now that he could see her properly.
She was dressed in some type of brightly colored clown suit, her hair was in pigtails and haphazardly spray-painted in a bright red hue. And her face…her face was painted white with all the accouterments of a clown. All of it a bit smudged from the time she’d spent pressed against his chest.
Harvey was suddenly glad he’d at some point removed the suit jacket he’d worn yesterday…not that the shirt he was wearing was cheap…far from it, but at least it would be easier to clean. And thanks to Donna stopping by his apartment, he had a change of clothes to switch into.
“So you really ditched me to be a clown this year?”
Charlie told him weeks ago that he would have to come up with a costume without her. After years of them matching—characters from Top Gun, The Godfather, and Ferris Bueller—Charlie had informed him she was striking out on her own. She wouldn't tell him what she had planned, just that paired costumes were out.
“It’s no Sundance Kid—” Butch and Sundance had been Harvey’s suggestion for this year— “But you look cute.”
Charlie scowled, twisting to scowl at their father before turning back to Harvey, her arms pressed across her chest. “I’m not supposed to look cute! I’m supposed to scare you!”
Harvey’s eyes slid from Charlie to their father who shrugged, his hands raised in defeat.
“Hey, I tried,” he said. “I’m a musician, not a makeup artist, Charlie.”
Harvey sensed this had already been a discussion between them, that he was late to something and tried to make light of it.
“Well, I guess clowns are pretty scary,” Harvey conceded. “Especially that Ronald McDonald guy.”
Harvey watched his Dad’s face over Charlie’s head as he said it, the look in his eyes telling Harvey he’d stepped in something. Shit.
“I’m not Ronald McDonald!” Charlie shouted, pushing herself off the table and getting up in his face. “I'm every nightmare you ever had. I am your worst dream come true! I'm everything you ever were afraid of!”
“You’re Pennywise?” Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Who the hell let you watch It?”
Charlie shrugged, shrinking back from her brother’s tone—a note of surprise, mostly, but a fair bit of anger, too. She was too young for that sort of stuff as far as Harvey was concerned. Even if some of the stuff Harvey let her watch was a little mature for her too…well, that was different. He was just trying to make sure the kid had a solid foundation in quality film, not scar her for life.
“Your brother,” Gordon answered. “She had nightmares for a week.”
“No!” Charlie argued, shaking her head. “I liked it!”
“Well, good. You watch that crap with Marcus.” Because I won’t. Harvey didn’t say it, but horror movies weren’t his thing. Never had been. Not that he was scared. He just didn’t like them. Cheap thrills and crappy production value. Harvey had standards, after all.
“Marcus said scary movies are good. You just don’t like them because you’re a scaredy cat.”
“Did he now?” Harvey asked.
Charlie opened her mouth to continue, but Gordon interrupted.
“That’s enough, Charlie,” Gordon said. “It’s time to eat.”
He was amazed that the boys didn’t realize by now that anything one of them said about the other in Charlie’s presence went right back to them. Or maybe Marcus did realize and that had been his intention. To rile his brother from afar. He could never be too sure. The boys liked to pick at each other just as much now as they had when they were kids. And their sister was a convenient weapon.
Charlie and Marcus had been on the phone a few times that week. That wasn’t too out of the norm. Charlie liked talking with her brothers, but from what he’d overheard there hadn’t been much talking aside from the two of them reviewing Pennywise’s more infamous lines.
“But what about my face?” Charlie whined. “Harvey said I’m not even scary!”
“I never said—”
“You said I was cute!” she pouted and Harvey had a fleeting thought that if his sister was hellbent on tantruming all afternoon, that in itself was far more frightening than any costume she could wear. He was about to say something to the effect, about to suggest that she rein in the dramatics, when his dad cleared his throat.
“How about you come and eat your lunch and we’ll fix your costume when we’re done?”
Charlie hesitated, part of her hellbent on being upset, but Donna stepped closer, leaning down to meet Charlie’s eye. She held out a small paper boat, something she’d folded up in the few minutes that Charlie and Harvey had been talking.
“Did anyone ever tell you that I used to do theater, little chick?” Donna asked. “I can make you look so scary you’ll give your brother nightmares. Go on kiddo, take it.”
Charlie giggled at Donna’s impersonation and took the boat in her hand, a terrifying grin on her face as she turned towards Harvey, any resemblance to a ‘cute’ clown gone entirely even with her shoddy makeup.
Charlie held the boat out to her brother. “You want it, don't you, Harvey? Oh, of course you—”
Harvey scooped his sister up in his arms before she could finish quoting the clown…before it could really settle in how creepy it was…Charlie looking at her brother like that, speaking to him with that voice. As Harvey’s fingers dug into Charlie’s sides, the facade quickly slipped and all resemblance to the dancing clown wiped away from his sister’s sweet face as she squealed and giggled in his arms.
“What I want is for you to eat your lunch,” he answered as he plopped her down into the seat at his desk, pushing her in, grateful when she didn’t fight him or start imitating the clown again, instead digging into the piece of pizza Gordon set in front of her.
“And next year, no creepy clowns for Halloween,” he said.
Charlie turned towards him as she chewed on a bite of her pizza, a contemplative look in her eye. “This pizza’s not as good as eating—”
“Alright, quit clowning around. You’re scaring your brother,” Gordon interrupted before Charlie could make mention of the clown’s favorite pastime of devouring children.
Harvey gave his father a look, no appreciate spared for his pun. “No, she’s not,” he argued, but Donna and Gordon were both smirking at them.
“That’s okay, Harvey,” Charlie said, that deeply unsettling smile back in place as she turned to him. “Be afraid. You all taste so much better when you’re afraid.”
Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist
#suits#suits fanfic#harvey specter#donna paulsen#gordon specter#charlie specter#lines to live by#halloween prompts 2023
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