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zanarkandskylines · 2 months

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What if reader was a new classmate and months went by before bakugou even noticed them? Maybe noticed them for the first time while training one day or something and he became infatuated with reader (NSFW please! I <3 your writing!)

oooooh this is a great prompt, thank you for sending it in!! and thank you so much, it makes my day when someone compliments my writing! 🔥✨

Cruel Compulsions

『 ♡ 』 k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ senior year of UA | aged to 18 | infatuated & pining bakugo ꒱ ⇢ as a new transfer from a neighboring hero academy to UA, class 3A welcomes you with open arms. you fit in with the class seamlessly, with the exception of one person - katsuki bakugo. he doesn't give you the time of day, ignoring you any chance he gets since he views you as an "outsider." at least, that's what he projects and not how he truly feels.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ 18+ MDNI Smut; masturbation, dirty/lewd thoughts, wet dreams, first-time handjob, first kiss (bakugo) | obsessively infatuated, mutual pining, hidden feelings, avoidant but horny bakugo, mean/aggressive toward reader's attention, awkward confession, sexually-forward and comfortable reader, friends to friends with benefits, fluffy ending ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~2.4k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

Bakugo's in the school locker room after the day's training sessions, left forearm against the wall of the shower to hold himself upright with his head hung under the water's stream. His mind is swimming in a sea of dirty thoughts as his right hand fists his dick - your body floating in the aforementioned sea.

He couldn't help it, you're gorgeous and beautiful spank bank material without even trying.

───

You surprised everyone when UA announced your transfer so late in the hero course. He immediately had judgements before meeting you. How did you manage to transfer during senior year from another academy? Would you need special privileges to catch up to the classes' progress? You were probably some rich bitch who had daddy's money buy your spot in the program.

That all crumbled the moment you walked through the door of class 3As homeroom, Aizawa introducing you to the class on a random Wednesday in the summer.

"Treat her with respect. She's a top student from her previous academy and can kick just as much ass as the rest of you."

Bakugo's heart stuttered in his chest, hypnotized by the way your bare thighs complimented the uniform skirt you're forced to wear. Your button up didn't leave much to the imagination in terms of your luscious figure, the front buttons ever so slightly strained over your chest to contain your breasts. His face was hot as he ogled you, unknowingly drinking in your features to commit them to memory. The feeling was foreign as he'd never been so attracted, let alone infatuated, with anyone.

It had been months since your transfer and Bakugo couldn't bring himself to have a conversation with you without wanting to explode, no pun intended. His palms would drip with sweat, ready to ignite at the slightest touch if you asked him a question or greeted him in passing. He'd gotten into the habit of averting his gaze, turning his back to you or simply removing himself from your space if you got too close.

"Don't worry about him," Midoriya commented regularly about his best friend's behavior towards you. "He's not much of a people person. He'll warm up to you when he's ready!"

Months of endless wet dreams, steamy thoughts and longing stares. Wherever you went, you clouded his vision and blocked out the rest of the world. He didn't understand why he was so enamored with you. He just...was. He kept telling himself it wasn't an obsession, just a stupid ass crush that will pass with time.

News flash - it didn't.

He - the Katsuki Bakugo - didn't have the courage to ask you out.

───

The training period was at the end of the school day, thankfully, and most of the others preferred to head back to their dorms to shower, leaving Bakugo alone in the locker room. He was free to moan and groan in peace, the steam of the hot water only adding to his shameless delight.

"Nngh, it's...not...fair," he moans to himself, barely above a whisper. His grip tightens around his cock, hand slipping and sliding at a brutal pace, eyes screwed shut to watch the raunchy movie play in his mind. Your lying in his bed, remnants of sweat from sparring across your bare tits and stomach. Your UA track jacket is splayed beneath you, the only other article of clothing being a pair of pink lace panties covering your center.

Why pink? He didn't know, you just seemed like the kind of girl to wear lacy underwear - well, he wished you were the type of girl who wore sexy panties, especially if it was just for him.

Your lips were parted in anticipation, flush creeping up your chest and neck as it settled across your cheeks.

"Katsuki, please...," you begged, fluttering your eyes up at him. It didn't take much for him to crumble, swiping your panties to the side and thrusting deep into your soaked pussy.

Like clockwork, Bakugo explodes, covering his hand in spend before getting to imagine fucking you. He can never make it to touching you in any of his dreams, you're always just out of reach or he finishes, cutting the scenario short. He rinses the evidence down the drain and turns the water temperature ice cold.

───

The next day, Bakugo sluggishly made his way to homeroom, running a few minutes later than usual. He rounded the corner on the third floor when he practically bumps into you, startling himself.

"Oh! Morning Bakugo, how are you?" you ask, a pleasant smile gracing your lips. He stares at them, assuming you'd just applied lip gloss with the way they shine under the hallway lights.

"Fine." Bakugo turns his eyes to the floor, stuffing his hands into his pockets nervously. There's a pause between the conversation and his first instinct is to shove past you and bolt for homeroom, but he doesn't.

"Can I ask you something?" you say as you grab his forearm to take him away from the stairwell. He recoils at your touch, ripping his arm from your grasp.

"Sorry, I shouldn't...forget it."

You're turning to head down the hallway when his anxiety quiets for a split second, allowing him to speak to you for the first time in months.

"No, wait...'m sorry. What is it?"

Bakugo's eyes haven't left the tiles on the floor, but something is telling him what you wanted to ask was important. You don't turn to face him when your shoulders droop.

"You're always running from or actively avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?" There's a sadness in your voice that makes his heart drop into his stomach. He was an asshole for not thinking how his actions would affect you, too focused on running away like a fucking coward instead of treating you like a person.

"No. You didn't do anythin' wrong," he mumbles, tapping his foot restlessly.

"Then why the hell can you not even stand to be around me?! You're the only person in the whole class who acts like I have the plague."

'Shit, shit, fuck! What do I even say?' Bakugo thinks to himself, thoughts racing to find some kind of excuse. The words bubble up in his throat faster than he can stop them from spilling out.

"It's 'cause I like you!"

Uh oh.

You whip your whole body around to face him, eyes wide with an eyebrow cocked in confusion. "...What?"

His mind is screaming 'run!,' but his body won't move.

Shaking your head, you start to laugh, relishing in the ridiculousness of the situation. He liked you, but had a case of the "eww cooties!" bullshit? Oh, if only you knew.

"I'm not gonna talk about this here, I'll come by your dorm after classes today. Okay?"

Bakugo finally meets your gaze, gritting his teeth to prevent any other unwanted confessions. "...'kay."

You give him a wave and head off toward the 3A homeroom down the hall, leaving him with his thoughts.

───

After class, you keep your promise and head to the fourth floor of the dormitories to Bakugo's room. One tap of your knuckles and the door swings open.

"Hey, still free to talk?" You ask, giving him a second chance to shoo you away.

"Yeah, come in." It was taking everything in him not to dart into the hallway and run until he couldn't anymore. He shuts the door behind you quietly. The latch barely clicks when he feels your hand on his bicep, your grip catching him off guard and causing him to stumble into the wall. Your body is suddenly in his personal bubble, chest pressed against his when your lips crash on to his.

'Is this really fucking happening?'

A surprised groan escapes Bakugo between the kiss, his hands flexing at his sides to keep himself together. He can feel the excess sweat begin to stain his palms.

You pull back with a smack of your lips. "Better?"

His mind was completely blank while simultaneously running at mach speed. How do you look so...stunning, all the time? He could feel the stickiness of your lip gloss on his lips - it tasted better than he imagined it would, a faint cherry flavor dancing on his tongue.

"Earth to Bakugooo!" you call, waving a hand in front of his face.

Bakugo violently shivers, his nerves catching up with the emotions flowing through his whole body.

'Don't be a fucking coward, Katsuki. Just do it!' He screams internally, urging himself to make a goddamn move.

"Oh shit, was that your first kiss?!" you yell, not able to fathom that he had never been kissed. "I'm sorry, I assumed -"

He grabs the back of your head, diving in to capture your lips once more. Time slows to a crawl as Bakugo maps out every inch of your mouth, savoring every second of the moment. Your lips are much softer and plush than he dreamed they would be, and if you weren't holding on to him, he was convinced he'd float away into the stratosphere. You can feel the sweat on his palms drip against the nape of your neck, but it doesn’t bother you. It’s warm, a honey-like consistency seeping into the fabric of your uniform.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against your own.

"I would have assumed someone as hot as yourself would have a body count by now," you tease, tracing a light circle over his exposed collarbone.

"Shut up," he whispers shakily. "Was never interested in that shit."

"Fair enough, but right now, your body is telling me a different story."

You let your hand trail down his body, brushing against his clothed erection. Bakugo's entire body stiffens, all the muscles in his body turning to stone at the featherlight touch of your fingers.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

"No."

The answer is immediate, a growl swallowed by your mouths colliding once again. Your fingers trace the outline of the tent in his slacks a second time before mindlessly fumbling with his belt. His hands are occupied with grabbing your hair and waist to pull you as close as possible, all precaution on his side melting like putty in your hands. The adrenaline rush of it all was fueling the fire churning in his guts, practically high off your affection and you’ve barely touched him.

The belt clasp flops to each side as you maneuver your way through the buttons and zipper expertly.

'How the fuck is this happening right now?'

Your hand swiftly pulls at his slacks, enough to allow room to squeeze through the waistband of his boxers, your delicate fingers wrapping around his dick. It's throbbing, painfully so, and burning hot to the touch. Between sloppy kisses, Bakugo gasps as if it’s his last breath on earth, trembling beneath your palm. You thumb over the tip, using the pre-spend to glide your hand over his shaft. The moan that is coaxed out of him is deep and voracious, hungry for more of your touch. A lightning bolt strikes through your core, his ecstasy fueling your own desire as you continue to clash tongues with him.

“Your moans are so fucking hot, Katsuki,” you pant between kisses. “Way hotter than I ever dreamed they’d be.”

Oh god, you used his name. You’ve never said it before. And the first he’s hearing it is…like this? Bakugo’s rocketing toward orgasm at the thought of potentially hearing it again.

And again. And again.

Sparks are flying in his abdomen, an entire Fourth of July fireworks show erupting as he squirms beneath you. He’s interchangeably moaning and whining into your mouth, shuddering uncontrollably.

“Fuck, ‘m-mmph!”

He attempts to silence himself as he spills out all over your hand and in his boxers, endless ropes of white pouring out of him. You remove your hand from his pants, placing a peck to his cheek and walking into his bathroom.

What. The. Fuck!?

Bakugo’s in the afterglow of his orgasm, awestruck as he slouched against the wall trying to catch his breath. His chest heaved and thighs quivered - the fact that he was still standing was a miracle.

───

The two of you sat in silence on his bed, waiting for the other to start the conversation. He took a deep breath, turning to face you with blushing cheeks.

“I…never, fuck, sorry. I’m fuckin’ nervous,” Bakugo begins to explain, trying to compose himself. You tenderly slip your fingers in his, intertwining them in an awkward hold. It calms his nerves enough to continue.

“I didn’t understand this feelin’ at all. You show up outta nowhere and…knocked me on my ass. I’ve never experienced anythin’ like this and I…didn’t handle it well.”

“It’s alright, water under the bridge. For the record, I always thought you were hot,” you giggle, shooting him a wink. “You just kept running and didn’t let me hit on you.”

Of course Bakugo was his own worst enemy in this situation. He could see that clearly now as opposed to his previous blindness by a fierce case of infatuation. He smirked, finally letting his walls come down - brick by brick.

“I settled for kissing Kaminari one night instead.”

Your comment makes him choke on his own spit, sputtering out, “Y’kissed Dunceface?! When?!”

That gets you cackling, removing your hand from his as you fall back onto his bed. You’re holding your sides while Bakugo’s crossing his arms, nose to the ceiling at your reaction.

“Hah! It was months ago and only once. He cried after.”

Now he’s laughing, breaking his stoic facade. He’s somewhat taken aback by his own laughter, silently acknowledging how easy communicating with you turned out to be. You return to sitting upright and sigh.

“I’m sorry, too, for jumping you like that. We don’t have to talk about it, either.”

Bakugo fidgets with the hem of the comforter on his bed. “I said I didn’t want ya to stop, so don’t apologize.”

You smile, a rosy tint appearing on the apples of your cheeks. “I like you, Katsuki. I’m okay with doing this - no labels, fast or slow - while we get to know each other. No pressure, though. We could never talk again if that’s what you wanted.”

“I obviously like you too, idiot. Just be patient with me. ‘S all I ask of ya.”

“Deal!”

Bakugo leans over and kisses you, soft and slow, a way of him saying thank you. He’s unabashedly on cloud nine, glowing with newfound confidence, all thanks to you.

Did that stop his raunchy and taunting wet dreams in the coming months? Not even a little. He just has a better solution to his growing salacious appetite - you.

⋆ ˚ʚɞ — thank you again @bakubae-by for the prompt! 😊 tags; @slayfics

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia smut #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo #☆.from the stars #☆.rei writes

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suugarbabe · 9 months

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Lover

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Word count: ~1.5k

Warning: mutual pining, fluff

AN: this idea came from @annaisabookworm so thank you love for the idea 🤭

You were sat at your house table, leg bouncing uncontrollably as your headmaster discussed the N.E.W.T level classes your year was due to start next week. It was the first dinner and you were already a nervous wreck. A sudden hand on your knee stopped your shaking, “You’re gonna churn the pudding with how hard your leg is jumping, y/n/n.” You turned to face the hands owner, “Sorry, Teo. S’just, these new classes this year have me a bit shook.” Mattheo smiled at you, “You’re like, the smartest Slytherin there ever was. You put too much pressure on yourself.”

You scoffed a little at his compliment, “Come of it, am not.” You ignored his latter comment, choosing to suddenly be very interested in the bowl of potatoes in front of you, scooping half onto your plate. Theo and Enzo stopped eating in front of you, eyes growing a bit large. You glared at them, “Something to say?” They looked at each other, then back to you, shaking their heads. The headmaster announced curfew for the night, encouraging all the students to indulge in the food in front of them, which most everyone did. You pushed the potatoes around your plate, barely eating. “If yer just playing wiff ‘em can I ‘ake a few,” Enzo held his fork over your plate, cheeks stuffed to the brim with chicken and beans. You rolled your eyes, pushing your plate towards him.

Blaise leaned in from your other side, “Ya sure your good, y/n/n?” You nodded, standing up, “I think I’m just gonna go back to the common room and chill out for a bit. See you guys there?” Your friends all mumbled forms of goodbye. You looked to Mattheo, who just gave you sympathetic eyes. You returned the look before turning back towards the doors and making your way to the common room.

“Ya gonna go ‘fter ‘er mate?” Enzo looked up from his plate towards Mattheo. “You know it’s vile when you talk with food in your mouth,” Mattheo didn’t even look in his direction, still staring at the doors of the great hall you had just walked through. “You know he’s right, cousin,” Draco piped up for the first time of the evening, “watching you pine after her for years is right boring at this point.” Mattheo turned his head then, “I do not pine after y/n. She’s my best friend, all of our friend mind you. I’m just worried about her. Sure, she gets anxious but it seems a little different today. I just care.”

Blaise groaned, rolling his eyes, “Come now, bruv.” Mattheo finished his meal in silence, refusing to respond to any more of his friends' teasing. He walked back to the common room in a daze, mind filled with thoughts of you. You’d been part of the group since everyone’s first ride into Hogwarts. Mattheo had known Theo, Enzo and Blaise nearly his entire life, their parents either being death eaters for his father or a loyal follower and Draco, well, he was Mattheo’s cousin so he was forced to know him his entire life. The five boys nearly missed the first train because they were goofing off on the platform, causing them to not find an empty compartment for themselves. Theo had suggested the one you were sitting in, saying you were cute. He immediately tried to hit on you like he’d seen older boys do with girls, but you had whipped out your wand and bound him. It was highly impressive for a first year, and Mattheo was obsessed. Theo apologized, you ignored him, and then you allowed the rest of the group to join you nonetheless.

Mattheo wasn’t exactly sure when the lines blurred from best friend to full on heart wrenching in love with you. It was always sort of there in his mind, that you were special…different. If he had to put a timeline on when he actually recognized a change in his feelings it would be about three summers ago, when you had asked everyone to come to your parents house for two weeks during the holiday. Mattheo had only ever interacted with you at school, in the castle. You weren’t old enough to go to Hogsmead until the following year so he never really got to see you in a non-school environment. And it was…nice, different. Something that he could see himself enjoying often. The next school year after that nearly all the boys noticed a difference in how Mattheo responded to and acted towards you. You, however, appeared to remain clueless. Mattheo almost preferred it that way, until he could really know how you felt towards him, if it were the same as himself.

When the boys entered the common room, it appeared completely empty. That was, except for a cloud of smoke rising from one of the back couches, followed quickly by a row of rough coughs coming from deep in your throat. Mattheo was by your side quicker than Draco on a snitch, ripping the cigarette from between your fingers, “What the bloody hell are you doing with one of these?” You remained laying on the couch, catching your breath, “Okay, one: that was rude of you to just snatch that from me like that. Two: nearly all of you guys do it. You always tell me it helps you relax, so…I stole some from Teddy’s nightstand.”

“Heeyy…that’s my emergency stash,” Theo was pouting, now sitting under the end of your legs. You sighed, rubbing your temples, “This is an emergency, Teddy…I’m buggin. Stressed out of m’fucking mind.” Mattheo threw the cig in the fireplace going behind him, Theo’s opened his mouth to complain again but the look on Mattheo’s face made him sink back into the sofa silently. Mattheo turned to you, holding his hand out palm up, “C’mon, grumpy, come with me.” You looked up at him, grabbing his hand, “Where we goin’?” His dimpled popped with his smile, “You know where.” You sat up now, swinging your legs down and placing your feet on the ground, “Carry me?”

He turned around, squatting down in front of you. He hooked his elbows over your thighs and around your knees while you wrapped your arms around his chest, resting your face in the crook of his neck. You giggled as he hiked you up higher and got a better grip on your thighs. Behind you Draco made a gagging face before Blaise playfully shoved his shoulder. The boys’ voices slowly drowned out as Mattheo carried you through the portrait hole, down the corridors and through the courtyard, all the way to the edge of what you both had designated as your spot: the black lake.

When he finally let you down from his back, you took your wand out, transfiguring a patch of grass into a quilt for you both to sit comfortably. Mattheo sits down first, beckoning you to follow suit. You settle between his legs, your elbows resting on his bent knees while he leaned back on his hands. You looked over the lake, it was your favorite to do at night, especially when stressed or anxious. You loved seeing the stars reflected on the water, dancing with the shifts and ripples from the creatures.

You felt Mattheo’s arms wrap around your middle, his chest now pressed against your back as he rested his chin on your shoulders, “Feeling less grumpy?” His tone was slightly teasing, but you knew he was curious about your real answer. That’s how Mattheo was, hiding his true feelings behind teasing and sarcasm. It was frustrating sometimes, made him hard to read, but right now you were thankful for it.

“A little less grumpy, yes,” you smiled into your answer, eyes still on the lake in front of you. “How’d you know this would help, hmm?” Mattheo held you a bit tighter, “Cause I know you, y/n/n. You’re my best friend.”

Friend. The word made you want to vomit. But instead of reacting you just settled further into him. “Why were you trying to smoke earlier?” You sighed, “I told you, I was just trying to relax.” You felt Mattheo shake his head, “You really shouldn’t smoke. It’s terrible for you, ruins your lungs.” You scoff, “Rich comin’ from you don’t ya think?” You felt his laugh against your back, “Yeah, but you’re better than me. Always have been. Don’t start stooping to my level now.”

You shook your head, “Don’t talk bad about yourself, Teo. I’ll make you sit out here and listen to me go on and on about all the good things about you and get all sappy just like you hate.” He laughed against you again, you both falling into a comfortable silence. Mattheo wanted to hear everything you had to say, what good things you could come up with. In his mind the list was short. You were leaning into him now. He shut his mind off, focusing just on the water in front of him.

You two sat there for a while, until you started to shiver and Mattheo convinced you to go back inside. He carried you back like before, except this time you rested your head on his back, trying your best not to fall asleep wishing you meant more to him than just a friend.

#Mattheo Riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #golden era #harry potter #mattheo riddle x you

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myysaints · 7 months

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°˖ ⊹ ꒰ LS2 ꒱ FROM FRIENDS TO THIS ─ LOGAN SARGEANT

LOGAN SARGEANT x gf!childhood bff!reader

⌗︙・ summary — as best friends, you, logan, and oscar should know everything about each other. but you and logan are hiding a certain secret from oscar...

genre — fluff, socmed au, faceless reader

notes — in honour of logan earning his FIRST EVER POINTS in formula 1, here's a fluffy little socmed fic of childhood besties reader logan and oscar! i love logan and oscar's friendship, it's so so cute. hope u all enjoy xx

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yourusername fun in the sun

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logansargeant Credits to the photographer?

yourusername thank you logan….

oscarpiastri ☀️

logansargeant Gramps finally figured out how to use emojis? Never thought the day would come yourusername everyone say great job grandpa! landonorris Great job Grandpa logansargeant Great job grandpa

user1 asdhsgadhgf not y/n fighting logan AND oscar in the comments 😭😭 best trio ever

user2 Sorry who is she? Does she work in F1? Why do so many drivers follow her

user3 she’s Y/N L/N, she’s childhood friends with oscar and logan

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logansargeant

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🏷 yourusername, oscarpiastri

logansargeant Hell of a summer to remember

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alex_albon where was my invite??? :(

logansargeant Lmk when you’re next in Florida mate

yourusername my turn to say CREDITS TO THE PHOTOGRAPHER !!!

logansargeant 🙄 A little ‘please’ would be nice yourusername but u don’t deserve nice logansargeant Watch the attitude princess

oscarpiastri Language.

yourusername don’t act like you haven’t said worse, piastri logansargeant Exactly, rich coming from someone who threw a temper tantrum when he lost monopoly oscarpiastri I did NOT throw a tantrum… yourusername i have pics of u sulking btw

user1 MY COMFORT TRIO

user2 anyone ship y/n and oscar? no? just me? okay

user3 Nah bro Oscar has a gf. But Logan and Y/N >>>> user4 they’ve known each other for forever i think if they had feelings for each other they would’ve gotten together by now 😭

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f1driversnwaggossip Oscar Piastri spotted arriving in the UK, fresh off of a fulfilling summer trip with childhood friends Logan Sargeant and Y/N L/N 😊

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user1 aww, does that mean no more oscar-logan-y/n content 😭😭

user2 rip oscar’s summer vacay era, it was great while it lasted

user3 ughhhh im going to miss seeing the three of them together sm

user4 Fr like we probably aren’t going to see Y/N with any of them for a long time again 😭 Especially since she’s probably gonna be busy with school, she hardly ever attends GPs user5 y/n and logan seem to be fine having fun on their own lol just saying user4 Wdym? user5 check logan’s ig stories, i think he’s still hanging out with y/n

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YOU HAVE ONE (1) NEW MESSAGE

vroom vroom 1 🧡: Yk, you guys are not very good at keeping secrets the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: ??? vroom vroom 1 🧡: I know you guys are together my florida man <3: …We don’t know what youre talking about vroom vroom 1 🧡: … vroom vroom 1 🧡: Bro. my florida man <3: Bro the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: bro…? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Look I’m not mad im just vroom vroom 1 🧡: Sad you guys didn’t tell me sooner… the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: but theres nothing to tell you oscar 😀 vroom vroom 1 🧡:

my florida man <3: Mate you are so unserious vroom vroom 1 🧡: Currently crying in the sim, Lando’s looking at me weird vroom vroom 1 🧡: Fess up or I tell him the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: OKAY OKAY OH MY GOD OSCAR my florida man <3: Alright man no need to get violent my florida man <3: Let’s talk this out calmly my florida man <3: Like adults vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults go behind each other’s backs? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults start relationships and not tell their best friend? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults LIE and GASLIGHT their best friend? my florida man <3: … my florida man <3: Is it bad if i say yes vroom vroom 1 🧡: You’re meant to say no 😒 my florida man <3: Right right, sorry my florida man <3: No the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: okay oscar we get it 😭 the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: we’re sorry we lied the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner my florida man <3: And we’re sorry we said no when you kept asking my florida man <3: And actively pretended like nothing was happening my florida man <3: And went on numerous trips without you vroom vroom 1 🧡: Alright I forgive you guys. Not that i was actually mad, i just wanted to see you guys say it my florida man <3: And that we made out in your bed that one time during your Christmas party last year vroom vroom 1 🧡: You guys can stop apologising now vroom vroom 1 🧡: . vroom vroom 1 🧡: WAIT WHAT

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled.

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air.

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort.

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing.

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder.

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair.

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

#rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drabble #au #series #daddy lessons #backwoods au #obx #the outer banks

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cartierre · 8 months

Text

TENNIS COURT | fv

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU frederik vesti x fem!tennis player!reader (fc: emma raducanu)

side note: i've come back from my hibernation side note pt2: i have zero knowledge on tennis. all of this is probably so inaccurate but we're just going to roll with it, alright?

♡ liked by frederikvestiofficial, serenawilliams and 64,938 others

yourusername feels good to be back 🎾 pulled a muscle a few weeks ago, thankfully it wasn't all too serious and i was able to return this week! let's train hard to achieve nice things in the future! 💪🏼

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user1 so glad recovery went well!

user2 you've inspired me to always do give it my all on the tennis court, so happy you're back again! comment liked by yourusername

frederikvestiofficial finally i can return to my true calling: a wag ⤷ yourusername fear no more, your dreams are becoming true ⤷ user3 they're so alex and lily coded

user4 hopefully we'll be able to see you in wimbledon this year!

user5 it's giving "we'll boune back stronger next race" HAHAHA

♡ liked by yourusername, frederikvestiofficial and 33,874 others

tagged: yourusername

elleuk British tennis hope Y/N Y/L/N poses in this months issue with fashion ambassadorships for tiffanyandco and dior !

yourusername is returning to the tennis court after minor health issues and has been climbing the ladder to success steadily ever since! she's a strong contender for the champion title at wimbledon this year.

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user6 y/n is so incredibly gorgeous oh my god

user7 "british tennis hope" LET'S SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

yourusername had so much fun during the photoshoot! can't wait to see the other pictures as well! comment liked by elleuk

user8 i've never bought a fashion magazine, but i will be running to the next supermarket for this one!

user9 i am so in love with her it's not healthy ⤷ user10 fred better sleeps with one eye open

♡ liked by 273,283 people

tagged: charles_leclerc, pierregasly, carmenmundt, georgerussell63, danielricciardo

formulaupdates some f1 drivers attending the finals of the ladies' single in wimbledon this year! f2 driver frederik vesti's girlfriend, y/n y/l/n, is fighting against title defender jelena rybakina.

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user11 i'm sure they're not just there because y/n's fred's girlfriend but it's so adorable that they're showing such a support

user12 the way everyone looks so serious and then there's george being all 🙂

user13 i don't know anything about tennis and yet here i am watching for y/n ⤷ user14 literally same, i'm sitting on the edge of my seat as well

user15 i just know fred is somewhere on the sidelines absolutely nervous

♡ liked by yourusername, frederikvesti, cocogauff and 574,847 others

tagged: yourusername

wimbledon The nation's tennis queen 👑

yourusername is your Ladies' Single champion 2023 🏆

#Wimbledon

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user16 SHE DID IT OMG

user17 britain might've lost their actual queen but do not worry y/n stepped up ⤷ user18 thanks to her, britain is able to play chess again: they have a queen again

user19 I AM SO PROUD OF MY BABYGIRL

user20 one of the most interesting matches to watch. y/n won fair and square, a great win! she made england in the midst of london proud!

♡ liked by frederikvestiofficial, mickschumacher, venuswilliams and 71,293 others

tagged: frederikvestiofficial

yourusername deserved summer break 🌊

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user21 fred needs to win the f2 drivers championship and they'd literally be the most unstoppable couple

user22 they're so boyfriend and girlfriend i cannot ⤷ user23 they're each other's wag

frederikvestiofficial i don't want summer to end ⤷ yourusername italy's been too good to us

user24 i don't know if i want to be with y/n or be y/n

user25 i can't wait to see y/n back on the paddock again!

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littledovesnow · 5 months

Text

president snow, the prelude

a/n: so there were like 750 words that didn't make it into the final fic for president!coryo, here they are! i wasn't going to publish this, but it sets up a lot of the backstory for future fics i have planned :)

-----

The room was electric as Lucky Flickerman’s face popped up on the TV, ready to announce Panem’s next president.

Your husband, who was freshly twenty-five and had his name on the ballot fo the first time, stood next to you, hand laced in your own.

“You’re a shoo-in, Coryo, I don’t know what they’re even doing counting the votes. Everyone knows you’re going to come out on top. After all, Snow lands on top.”

Coriolanus smiled softly at the sound of his family’s favorite phrase. He knew he had most likely won the election as well, but he wanted to hear the final vote before celebrating anything.

“The results are in,” Lucky Flickerman’s dramatics were dialed to a hundred tonight, as he flicked open an envelope brought to him by a station worker.

“Panem’s next president is,” he trailed off, wanting to build the anticipation.

You could feel the electric in the air, squeezing your husband’s hand as Lucky opened his mouth to continue. “The Capitol’s own Coriolanus Snow!”

Cheers erupted from the Snow’s great room, Coriolanus’ closest family and friends having gathered for the momentous occasion.

Mr. and Mrs. Plinth, who thought of you considered your in-laws, wasted no time in congratulating the young man, their next president. “We always knew you had it in you, Coriolanus. Ever since you and Sejanus first were mentors way back when!”

You and Coriolanus shared a look, neither of you had ever come out with the truth about what happened when Coriolanus was exiled the summer after the 10th Hunger Games.

Putting on a smile, Coriolanus hugged the older woman, and shook hands with his late classmate’s father. “You’ll do this nation proud, boy.”

“Thank you, Mr. Plinth.”

Mrs. Plinth brought her attention to you, the nation’s next First Lady. “You’ll be a splendid First Lady! Oh, the Capitol will be overjoyed to have a young couple at the helm again! Especially once a child is brought up!”

You stopped yourself from frowning, instead giving the woman a soft smile.

Coriolanus watched with a careful eye, not wanting to cause a scene at the woman’s comments. He and you had been trying for a child for a few months, to no avail. One of his first tasks as president would be to find better fertility care, as he was growing worried that each failure was taking a larger toll on you than you let on.

“If you’ll excuse us, I believe I do need to go make a speech.” Coriolanus smiled, tugging you out of the room with a promise to catch up at his inauguration.

You waited until you two were in the privacy of your bedroom before letting any emotions go, inner turmoil over your husband’s victory and sadness over Mrs. Plinth’s comment.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Coriolanus murmured; voice much softer than when he is in public. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?”

You looked at your husband with tears on deck, stomach rolling over. “She’s true. The Capitol’s going to want us to start a family as soon as possible. I’m going to be seen as a failure if I can’t even get pregnant!”

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you as your emotions crumbled, heat growing in his heart. He wanted to immediately call for her to lose her tongue, with little regard that she was one of the two people who had helped him financially be able to make it to this point in his life.

“We’ll figure it out, my love. I vowed to help you become a mother, and it’s a vow I intend to keep.”

You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve, earning a tsk from the president-elect. “I just wish it was as easy as It is for everyone else. I deserve this, for God’s sake!”

Coriolanus frowned, hand running up and down your spine. “I know, my love.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he kept his lips closed.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments more, until there was a knock at the door, an Avox opening it once Coriolanus granted permission.

Holding a phone up, the Avox gestured to Coriolanus, who begrudgingly stepped away from you to take the call, which was Lucky Flickerman himself, conducting a phone-style interview live on air.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, playing into the pizazz and cheer over the phone, stating how excited he was to have this honor as president, all while sitting on the luxurious bed you two shared, hand moving up and down your arm as you curled into his side.

-----

a/n: and there it is folks, basically why i made coriolanus want funding for a fertility clinic :)

#it's giving the lead to good angst in future fics!!!!!!#young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games x reader #hunger games tbosas #hunger games imagine

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satellitespinner · 3 months

Text

˗ˏˋsidelines - one ´ˎ˗

next | previous | series masterlist

˗ˏˋ finally the first chapter!!! we’re so excited to give you this fic.. so much time went into it but it’s so worth ittt :33 ´ˎ˗

synopsis: you've been going to saltwitch beach every summer for as long as you can remember, it's home to you. and you wouldn't change that for the world...

cw: MDNI!! cursing, use of weed, age gap (2-3 years?), nicknames (cherry), ellie calls reader a slut, ellie is straight up cruel. hurt/comfort, flashbacks, slightly edited, breif mention of hair (being washed.) brief mentions of masturbation (e), abby and reader are awk..

wc : (6.4k)

the usual feeling of pure excitement that you felt upon arrival at the summer house wasn't as prominent as the odd and unusual anxiety that you couldn't seem to push down. you told yourself that it was just nerves, you hadn’t seen ellie for almost two years and so far, your first impression of being hesitant to get out of the car wasn't so great. you decided not to dwell on the feeling because you were tired. you knew that interacting with her was inevitable so why not get it over with?

the difference in your appearance didn't go unnoticed by the two girls, you chatted with your brother as you made your way over to them. ellie eyed you as you still had that cheerful aura, and that childlike pep in your step. you were the definition of glowing, and ellie was a little jealous.

“since when did she have tits?” ellie looked over at abby before receiving an elbow to the chest from her. “weirdo.” the blonde commented before ellie jumps to defend herself. “i was just sayin-!” before she could finish shes cut off by an oh-so familiar voice.

“abby, hey!” you greeted with a pleasant smile on your face, slightly jogging up to her and quickly embracing her in a hug, her bulky arm wrapped around your torso like it belonged there. the thick tension in the air was felt by all but stayed unrecognized.

“hey kid, how are you?” she asks as you pull away, your eyes meet ellie’s for just a moment before turning back to abby. “I'm good! you look amazing, by the way” before abby could respond ellie interjects “you look different.” she states blankly. you shoot her a glare. “yeah, that’s what two summers does to a person. you of all people should know that, right?” you sass back, taking notice of her new look. she looked hot? no, nevermind. you push past, making your way into the house and up to your room, leaving everyone behind.

unpacking had to be your least favorite part of going away each summer especially when you were exhausted, annoyed and sweaty. while unpacking you had fleetwood mac bursting in your eardrums, music had always helped calm your nerves in any situation. your favorite playlist and a few deep breaths worked wonders.

a few summers ago, ellie showed you a song she had been practicing on joel's guitar. “ wha’dya think, cherry?” she would ask with a smile on her face. “i love it!” you would always respond. reminiscing on that memory carved a genuine grin on your face, however that smile was quickly replaced by a look of terror and a slight jump.

“jesus fuck!” you screamed, being met with ellie and abby leaning against your door on either side like this was some dramatic romcom was not what you expected when you turned around to put a couple shirts in your wardrobe. ripping one headphone of your ear, you expect them to say something, but instead they stay silent.

“what do you want?” you give them a wary look. abby starts by pointing out your new look. “you look uh- pretty?” she scratches her neck awkwardly. you feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment. “thanks.” you reply. you try to avoid ellie’s harsh gaze burning into you. “so.. how’s school?” she continues, trying to keep the conversation flowing. “good, good” you nod in unison. you decide to ease the tension by focusing yourself on unpacking. you and abby chat for awhile, paying ellie little to no mind.

abby’s eyes respectfully followed you as you buzzed around the room, ellie however was straight up gawking at you without word. you finished up your conversation abby fairly quickly when the uncomfortable air eased away after a few words. soon enough your sitting on your bed as you two converse innocently from opposite sides of the room. you cracked a couple jokes with abby but couldn't quite understand why ellie was still standing there.

“ellie did you need something too?” you ask with a smile, finally making eye contact with the other girl in the frame. “nope.” she answered calmly before taking a hit from her vape. “just noticed how much of a slut you’ve turned into.” she crosses her arms, her eyes challenge yours. abby’s face drops, oblivious to ellie’s obvious intentions.

“excuse me?” your eyes widen at the comment, the audacity that this girl had! two summers gone and all she can say is that you look like a slut?

“i mean- go off, you look great but like.. how much skin you gotta show for some attention?” she chuckles lowly. you thought she was done but apparently she wasn't. “are you trying to look more mature or something? so you can finally be taken seriously?”

oh.

“alright,” you stand up from your bed, running a hand through your hair. “i would love to listen to you critique me, but really i haven't changed that much. you would know that if you didn't miss two summers.” you bite back before shooing them out of your room so you could finally get at least a little bit of rest. even though abby didn’t really do anything, you simply didn’t feel like being around anyone after ellie’s embarrassing comment.

you were exhausted. finally deciding to give unpacking a break for now and lay down. you slide under your blue and white covers that welcomed you after every long drive and closed your eyes.. you fall asleep instantly when your head hits the pillow.

you’re peacefully asleep, dreaming about how this summer will go when you’re interrupted by your phone going off. usually, you would close your eyes and ignore it. but the caller was persistent and kept calling after you lay your head down once again. you grab your phone with an annoyed scoff but your mood sweetens when you see dina’s name displayed brightly on the screen.

you quickly tap the green answer button and are about to speak when you’re spooked by the sound of dina’s voice blaring through your phone.

“bitch! why didn’t you tell me you were back?!” she scolds you playfully.

“in my defense-“ you start but are interrupted by cat’s voice coming through, “no excuses babe, we need to see you and we need to see you now!” you laugh at their orders and push the sheets off of you in a hurry.

“okay. i’m coming!” shuffling through your room like a madman with your phone pressed to your ear, the dedication your friends had was real! “how did you even know i was back?”

“we ran into your brother just now,” dina explains “we’re parked outside to take you out, hurry up!”

“fuck dina, way to give me some time to look presentable” you roll your eyes behind the phone as you multitask brushing your hair and triple checking you look presentable.

“get out here!” you hear jesse demand “i’m coming out now, chill!” you confirm, stumbling down the stairs and seeing that nobody is home, weird. you see the parked car and are quick to wave while hanging up the phone.

“dina, i awoke from my beauty sleep for you guys.” you say as you jump into the backseat of cats white jeep, right beside jesse, saying your hello’s.

“anddd yet you still love us!” she smiles back at you and winks, you don’t deny it.

you guys drive around for awhile, blasting your favorite songs from cats phone and catching up on whatever you weren’t able to talk about on call. you were genuinely excited, you finally had your people.

when you finally arrive at your destination you’re in awe, i mean your summer house is big, but this? this was luxurious.

“holy fuck cat, you live here?!” you plant your feet on the floor of the car and pull yourself through the open sunroof to get an better look at the home. cat giggled before grabbing your calf. “get in here you crazy bitch!” you smack your lips and sit back down. she closes the sun roof and you all make your way inside.

the hangout was fun, you guys made ice cream sundaes and watched the sunset while being occupied by a game of volleyball.

you and cat absolutely destroyed dina and jesse, obviously!

you were able to get a ride home from cat while the couple stayed at her house, the ride home was comfortable, not too long with good music and conversation.

“how much you wanna bet that dina n’ jesse are fucking in my parents room right now?” she asks with a smile.

“your guess is better than mine, but i’d say $10.” you look over at her and she laughs. the open windows are breezing her short, black hair around, her earrings dangling along.

you two pull into your driveway after cracking joke after joke, she puts the car in park before turning to you.

“did you want me to walk you up?” she asks with a soft smirk, reaching for her keys.

“no, no!” you brush her off, “i’m fine by myself.” you smile.

“if you say so!” she turns the car back on and gently reaches over and pats your thigh. “see you around, yeah?” you place your hand atop hers and reach for your door with the other.

“of course!” you clarify. before getting out of the car and shutting the door. just as you’re about to walk away she rolls down the passenger window.

“goodnight!” she waves you off and makes sure to stay until you get into the house. you wave to her once more before closing the door and she drives away.

you drag yourself through the house, tired.

you were definitely going back to bed.

˚ · . TIME SKIP!

SUMMER ‘15

you smack your lips at the sweet yet tangy flavor that the cherries left in your mouth. not hesitating to pick up another handful as you admire abby on her surf-board while ellie and your brother built a sand castle in the sand, just a few feet away from you.

you were happy.

“hey!” ellie calls out to you, before running up to your spot and plopping herself down next to you. she reaches out her cupped hand in front of you, you shoot her a confused look. “give me some too!” she demands jokingly. “oh, sorry!” you giggle before placing four almost perfect cherries in her palm. “thanks, cherry” she chuckles at the newfound nickname. you two snack on them for a little while before ellie finishes hers. “d’ya want more?” you ask, reaching for the bag one the opposite side of you. “no, im okay” she responds, you place the bag back down.

“yeah im done too.” you insist before poorly zip locking the bag shut and smiling up at ellie with a wide, toothy smile. she laughs at the look on your face. “why’re you laughing at me?” you fake a slight frown. “you're covered in cherry juice, lemme help” she wipes the excess juice from your lips with her thumb, her tongue slightly poking outside her mouth. “done!” she cheers, the sun making the tiny brown freckles on her face shine. her own toothy smile making you melt more than the hot sun.

“do you wanna come build a sand castle with us?” she asks. but before you could answer you hear your brother yell at her. “ellie no! don't let her! she’s just gonna mess it up!” “fuck you!” ellie responds before taking your hand in her own and leading you over there.

your brother groans but lets you, mostly because your dad was watching, at least you're being included one way or another. “whats up, cherry” your brother mocks.

“hey! only i can call her that!” ellie shouts. “whatever” she earns an annoyed eye roll from your brother. “come on cherry, sit down” ellie pats the sand next to her.

your sleep is disturbed by a dip in the mattress before you can feel a heavy hand shaking you awake. the weight of sleep lifted off your eyes when subtle gusts of wind blow your curtains into your room. you let out a guttural groan, you need water. you sit up slightly in your bed, your arms slightly behind you holding you up as you meet abby's eyes.

“whats up, abs?” you whisper in a slightly raspy voice, she removes her hand from your shoulder and smiles while answering “just wanted to make sure you're awake, you won’t be able to sleep tonight if you keep going any longer.” you force down a smile at her consideration. she gently lifts herself off of your bed before making her way to the door. “thank you, abby” you rub your eyes with your palm, trying to wake yourself up. shivering slightly as you take the covers off of your body.

you walk over to the window to shut it when you notice the sky, almost completely dark. it was late, but not too late. in your opinion it was the perfect time for a swim.

you quickly discard your clothes and replace them with your favorite bathing suit and the towel.

when you slide open the sliding glass door you notice the smell of weed as you walk out into the back yard. you slide the door shut and walk over to the pool. you're spooked at the sight of ellie and abby sitting on the edge of the pool, smoking a joint. they were whispering about something but abruptly stopped when they noticed your presence.

“that’s quite the bathing suit, cherry. you’re kinda proving my point here, don't you think?” she passes the joint to abby, who takes a hit immediately. you feel a sudden confidence within yourself as you walk over to the pair, ignoring ellie’s comment and take a seat right next to abby. without thinking you delicately take the joint from abby’s hand and take a hit from it as well. you slightly dip your head back as you exhale the smoke from your lungs. looking over at abby when you pass it back, a confused but ultimately impressed look crossing her face. ellie only chuckles before abby asks; “when did you start smoking? miss ‘goodie two shoes.’” you scoff before standing up, placing your towel down and descending into the lit up water.

“you can't really tell me you weren't smoking weed when you were 18, can you?” you joke before dipping your head under the water and swimming a few laps. when you resurface you notice ellie’s pink, glossy eyes on you. you two share a look for a moment before you speak. “you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you tell her off. but her reply wasn't what you expected. “i might.” her voice cracking slightly from staying silent for so long. you cover up how flustered that comment made you with a scoff and an eye roll, you continue swimming.

some time passes before you resurface again. ellie was gone, abby was smoking alone, so you swim over to her. you rest your arms on the outside of the pool. “where’s ellie run off to?” you ask, looking around the yard. “do you actually care? cause all day you've been hating each other hard. the tensions so thick i could cut it with a knife.” she inhales another hit from the almost finished joint.

“that’s not fair, she’s been gone for two summers. my grudge is justified.” you state argumentatively. abby puts out the joint on the concrete, pressing it into the ground to make sure its out. “do you know why?” you look up at her. “not a clue, none of you ever tell me anything.” you pry “why didn't she come?”

“not my place to tell you.” she sighs. “are you fucking kidding me? it’s been two years and i haven't been told shit!” she throws you a weak smile. you knew she wouldn’t tell you, so you give up with a sarcastic chuckle. “you’ll find out eventually.”

“okay.” you mutter before you lift yourself off the edge and duck under the water for a few more laps, when you emerge from the water next, abby is still sitting there. feet gently paddling the water. “do you want to.. come in with me?” you ask kind of shyly. swimming with abby was always something you looked forward to every summer without fail.

“i probably shouldn't.” she declined politely, own thoughts rushing to her head. “im gonna- head inside.” she shot you a tight lipped smile and stood up. “sorry, kid” and with that she was already missing, leaving you in the pool as you close your eyes and frustratingly flop back underwater once again, completely relaxing your muscles and letting it overtake you.

SUMMER ‘19

“they're pre-occupied” abby tells you as she walks out of the house, towel in hand. you roll your eyes “look what mario kart is doing to our generation!” you shake your head jokingly. “rainbow road is destroying families.” abby adds on and you both laugh.

the two of you make your way down to the beach, abby's surfboard under her arm as your padded feet burn from the sand. you were so excited! everytime the group made their way down to the beach you would giddily watch abby on her surfboard, just waiting for the day she would cave and teach you.

“you excited?” she elbows you with a smirk, based on your body language she already her answer. “i am! im gonna be a pro surfer by tomorrow, watch me.” you laugh, the feeling of excitement coursing throughout your body.

you and abby walk side by side until you reach the beach. she teaches you how to wax the board, as well as where to get the best waxes. she tells you which brands make the best wet suits and you guys practice a bit of balance on the sand before you finally slap the board down on the water.

“before you’re gonna even try standing you're gonna practice on your knees. got it?” you nod eagerly and sit on your knees, abby’s hands guiding you easily. you wobble slightly after getting on and abby places her hands on your hip to steady you. “i got you, i got you.” she reassures.

abby was a good teacher, and had you standing on that board in no time.

“i’m doing it!” you beam and abby couldn't help but smile at you.

“you're doing amazing!” she cups her hands around her mouth so the praise could reach your ears.

when you turn around to look at her for approval, you fail to notice a wave coming straight for you. “wait! Turn back arou-!” abby attempts to warn you, but the wave has already hit, knocking you off straight off of her surfboard and into the salty sea water. she panics, quickly swimming over to you as you break the water’s surface and frantically spin your head around to try and find her. when you do finally spot her, the blonde thinks you’re on the verge of tears before you break out into a smile and begin to laugh. she stares at you in shock for a moment, swimming closer and briefly inspecting you for any possible injuries (as well as ensuring the laugh isn't a possible cover up for an incoming sob), eventually coming to the conclusion that you’re fine. but your laugh, your laugh is just so contagious she cant help but join in on it.

“you looked so fucking worried!” you manage to say in between giggles, she jokingly shakes her head in disappointment. “of course i was! you just got fucking slammed underwater!” she exclaims, teasingly splashing even more water onto your face. your jaw now starting to hurt from just how wide you were smiling.

“c’mon. let’s head back to shore, i think that’s enough practice for the day.” abby concludes, gently grabbing your arm and pulling you forward back onto the surfboard as she pushes you to shore, sun setting behind the both of you.

present day

gasping for air as you surge up from the water once again, you decide it's finally time to get out of the pool and begin to get ready for dinner. grabbing the nearest towel on one of the pool chairs, you quickly wrap it around your body before sliding open the plexi-glass door as ellie and abby previously had, making your way inside the house.

“hey kiddo!” jerry calls out to you from the oven, supposedly taking something out of it as he places it on the counter, removing the colorful oven mitts from his hands. “hey, jerry” you smile at him, you were able to get a quick greeting with him in before, but you had missed him the year you were gone. moving over to the kitchen island and leaning against it to have a quick look at what he and your father have prepared for dinner. “all of this looks absolutely delicious” you comment, noticing one of your favorite dishes tucked away to the side.

“why thank you! it’s almost done if you wanna take a quick shower before meeting everyone else down here?” jerry suggests, you stand back up properly “yeah that would be great. speaking of, where is everyone?” you question, you haven't seen your brother or father since you arrived, and abby and ellie were nowhere to be found.

“your father and brother went out a while ago to get some more groceries for the next couple nights, abby went along with them i’m pretty sure. as for ellie… i have no idea.” he sighs, leaning on the opposite side of the counter as you. “alright, well im gonna go take that shower and i’ll come back down here to help set the table!” you smile at him, returning back to a standing position before making your way to the stairs, jerry simply nods his head, retreating back to cooking.

you exhale while walking up the stairs, removing the towel from your body to gently dry your hair so you dont cause the floors to become even wetter than they already are from the pool. upon making your way to the bathroom, you discover where ellie had been – showering.

as she walks out in only a sports bra and basketball shorts, you're rendered speechless, the opposite to how you've been acting around ellie so far.

“hey cherry” she casually greets you while leaning up against the bathroom wall, towel loosely hanging around her shoulders “hey ellie.” you respond with the same energy as you previously had “where’d you disappear to before?” you ask, kicking yourself immediately after for such a stupid question.

“thought you would prefer to keep anderson’s company rather than look at me for one more second,” she quips back "how was it? your swim, i mean.”

you stay quiet for a moment, “it was nice. i lost track of time, she left shortly after you did.” you explain, ellie purses her lips, lifting herself off of the doorframe and walking away from you, you contemplate your next words for a moment. “wait, ellie!” you call out, turning your body to face her. she stops in her tracks, spinning her head around and waiting for you to continue with your sentence “i was trying to ask abby but she wouldn’t tell me. why weren't you here for two summers?” you cut straight to the point. all you wanted was an answer. the auburn haired girl simply looks down and away from you before turning the opposite direction and entering her bedroom.

looking down at your own feet, you accept defeat and wander into the bathroom. removing your bikini, and stepping into the shower, letting the stream of water overtake your senses once again.

after a while of sitting in the steam, you decide to wash your hair, doing a shitty job of detangling it caused from the chlorine. you grab your bottle of shampoo and squirt some into your hand before sloppily rubbing the gooey substance around your head and rinsing. you repeat with your conditioner before finishing up with washing your body - berry scented body wash, obviously.

while you lather your body wash onto yourself, your mind wanders to ellie. the way she looked at you, all the things she said to you. no. absolutely not. she called you a slut for gods sake! maybe she was right? you hadn't even had your first kiss yet though. you shake away any incoming thoughts on the subject for now when you decide to finish up in the shower. reaching over to the tap and gently twisting it until the warm water faded away and you were left shivering behind the curtain. you water no time grabbing your soft towel and wrap it around your dripping body in hopes of warming yourself up again.

realizing that upon your shock of seeing ellie exit the bathroom, you had completely forgotten to bring your clothes to the bathroom. which meant you had two options – one, call for your brother who probably wasn't even home yet and risk him bringing you the worst clothes known to mankind. or two, run out to your bedroom in just your towel and pray nobody sees you.

option two it is!

quickly ensuring your towel was tight enough to not fall off, you crack open the bathroom door, making sure there’s nobody you can see who could see you. with the coast seemingly being clear, you make a run for it. opening the bathroom door fully and fast-walking to the familiar pale blue door you had spent many summers sleeping in. everything was going to plan, nobody was upstairs! you close the door with a weary breath and rush to the soft clothes splayed across your bed. you pull your cotton panties up your legs and shimmy into your silk sleep shorts. you decide against your sleep shirt for now, instead opting for a thick hoodie with your soon to be university name displayed proudly across the chest.

you take a seat at your desk and apply some light makeup, nothing too fancy. some minimal skincare, a bit of mascara and the tiniest bit of blush. afterwards, reaching over to your jewelry case and putting your earrings back in.

cute! you think before you tiptoe out of your room with intentions of quietly going downstairs but are met with ellie in the hallway.

“hey.” you mutter with a polite smile, she doesn’t respond. instead retreats downstairs quickly.

why do you even bother?

you follow behind ever so slightly, taking notice of how her nonchalant facade has died down quite a bit.

you looked her up and down as she went over to your brother at the kitchen island. her hair was dry and combed back into its normal up-down style. she had also returned her rings to their original places and put on a chained necklace.

abby had freshened up as well, her usual messy braid tightened around her scalp, and her black wife pleaser hugged her torso well. along with her plaid pajama pants, she was conversing with your father.

everyone else looked good, obviously. it was tradition to at least try to clean up for the first dinner, after that, nobody cared. you quickly gazed over the group and took note of one person's absence in particular.

you pay it no mind for now and watched everyone in friendly chatter, enveloped in their own conversations. this was home. as you walk closer, you take the opportunity to set the table discreetly. grabbing the silverware and plethora of plates, gently bringing them over to the oak table and accidentally making a – very loud –clatter from dropping the silverware. everybody's heads immediately turn to look at you

“oops?” you say, but it comes out more as a question, shooting them a smile in order to diffuse some of the tension that had been created from your hunched figure over the table.

“here, let me help.” abby insists, making her way towards you to help. you don't object, letting her come forward and grab the fallen silver. you shoot her a thankful smile and continue setting the table as everybody returns to their previous conversations.

“that’s one way to make an entrance” abby whispers as she she trails just behind you, putting the forks, spoons and knives just after you place the woven placemats down. “oh hush,” you groan, she continuous to lay the utensils “as if im any less clumsy then you.” she nudges you harshly, reminiscing on all the past time she’s completely stacked it in front of you.

“hey, by the way, are you wearing a hoodie because of ellie’s… dumb comments?” abby asks as you return any leftover dining material to the kitchen counters and start grabbing food to place down, you ignore her. “dinner is ready folks!” you announce, putting your hands up party style and allowing everyone to take their seats while you go ahead and grab a glass of water for yourself.

when you turn back around to take your own seat, you realize the only spot left is right between abby and ellie. they are lost in their own chatter with each other when you come to sit in between with them.

you don’t speak to either of them when you sit down, instead opting to quietly grab whatever food looked most appealing to you to stuff onto your plate – then later into your stomach.

you zone out as everyone continues with their previous conversations, head racing with many, many thoughts. why was ellie gone for two summers? where’s joel? why does everything feel different?

“where's joel?” you speak up, not even realizing the words had left your mouth until you look up to find everyone staring at you, faces gloomy. “what? I haven’t seen him in awhile, i wanna know how he’s doin’” you drop your fork, scanning the faces around the table to show your putting all your focus into this conversation.

“you’re fucking with us, right?” your brothers scoffs, face disappointed.

“Language.” your father interrupts, staring down at his plate. you chuckle at that. “father of the year award goes to you.” you mock under your breath. “and no! i’m not messing with you!” you answer honestly, “i don't get told anything around here. all i want is an answer.” your brother scoffs at this. “what, i’m serious! can you guys just tell me where he is? and ellie, where the hell were you for two summers? i didn’t hear anything from you for two years. hell, i was starting to think you and joel had died!”

everyone falls silent.

ellie abruptly stands up from her seat at the table “i’m not hungry.” she declares, before moving around you and rushing up the stairs. her fast paced footsteps are heard before the harsh slam of her door.

“what’s her deal?” you ask the table, nobody answers. too focused staring down at their plates. “are you guys serious right now? i’m old enough to know these things. and sure, i know joel doesn’t come every summer but i thought he would at least come to this one.” your eyes start to well up with tears, you just wanted to be treated like an adult.

your dad sighs and finally draws his eyes back to yours. you both silently stare at each other for a short moment, couldn't have been more than a few seconds but it felt like forever. “you should go talk to ellie.” your dad finally speaks up, jerry hums in agreement. you nod at them and politely excuse yourself. you pause yourself and turn to the table of your almost-family.

“thanks for dinner.” you shoot the group a sarcastic smile and continue to drag yourself away from the kitchen and up the stairs, towards ellie’s room. in the short distance you walked your thoughts started to eat away at you.

maybe joel was dead?

no. he couldn't be!

he was notorious for missing summers, and there’s no way they would keep that from you, right?

your thought were cut short when you find yourself in front of ellies door, the run down “ellies cave! do not enter!” sign that was still there made you smile. you brace yourself by taking a few deep breaths and then gently cracking the door open. you spot ellie sitting on the edge of her bed, back to you.

“knock knock” you softly welcome yourself into her room and close the door behind you. ellie doesn't greet you, instead keeping to herself. you stroll around the bed and sit next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. her red, glossy eyes stayed glued to the ground. you squeeze your eyes shut as you try and find what you want to say to her.

“listen, ellie.. if i did anything to upset you or if i made you uncomfortable-” “stop,” she whispers, her voice slightly cracking which alludes her to clear her throat, interrupting your rambling. “i just-” you sigh. “im sorry if i did.” you clarify with a slight breath of relief, like you had been holding it in forever. the feeling didn't last long, the longer she stayed silent the more anxious you got.

what was up with you? why did you suddenly care so much?

ellie, for once didn’t know what to say. she fiddled with the rings on her fingers, they felt encapsulating. a habit you knew all to well. you placed a hand atop of her own two.

“can you look at me? please?” you knew you sounded pathetic, you knew you would probably regret this later, but you wanted to help her. eventually your pleas pulled through and she averted her gaze from the floor to you. tears stained her freckled cheeks, the whites of her eyes colored pink, drastically clashing with her green ideas.

she doesn't say anything, instead throwing herself into your arms and letting her emotions take over. “fuck, cherry i’m so sorry.” she sobs into your chest. “i didn't mean what i said” she declares as she squeezes the back of your tear soaked hoodie. you slowly start raking your fingers through her soft auburn locks.

“shh, shh. its okay.” you whisper gently into her head, placing a few gentle kisses to her forehead. you slowly rock the two of you from side to side and rub circles to her back. her sobs eventually subside as you lull her to sleep.

you didn't leave straight away, you sat there with her to ensure that she would stay asleep, when she did you gently laid her down across her bed and cover her up with a blanket that was thrown over a nearby chair. you smile at her tranquil state.

you leave ellie’s room feeling hopeful, maybe things would go back to the way they were, maybe things could be normal again.

While your closing the door to ellie’s bedroom is when you run into abigail once again, you both stop in your tracks.

“hey, abby.” your voice trembles as you say those two simple words.

“hey,” she replies warily “are you okay?” she cautiously makes her way towards you as you tilt your head up in hopes of not spilling your tears.

“oh im doing great,” you joke, laughing to cover up the incoming wave of tears “just peachy!” abby can sense the incoming tears and is quick to envelop you in a tight hug, just in time as the tears well over your eyes and onto your face. you shove your neck into her shoulder, wishing that you could disappear.

first day back, and you're already crying? right after you argued about wanting to be treated like an adult? grow up.

“hey.. what’s wrong?” she softly asks, you lift your head up from her neck and look up at her. “i don’t know.” is all you can muster out when the waterworks reappear, and abby tenderly places your head back into her shoulder.

“it’s okay… its okay…” she reassures, carefully making her way to your bedroom as to not disturb your sensitive state.

when she delicately places you on your bed, you stay sitting up. She doesn’t say anything, but begins to make her way back to your bedroom door, assuming you wanted to be alone.

“stay.” is all you say, smoothly grabbing her arm, forcing her to stop in her tracks.

“oh, uh-”

“please.” your grip on her arm becomes a little tighter, it’s only then she realizes the last thing you need right now is to be alone.

she lets out a heavy breath and turns back around to you. “okay,” she complies, “okay, i’ll stay.”

“thank you.” is all you can squeeze out, releasing her arm and laying down, facing the opposite direction of her.

she goes to turn off your lightswitch, allowing the moon shining through your drapes to be your only source of light from your open windows and goes to lay down beside you hesitantly, trying to not take up too much space on your bed.

“abby,” you whisper, “my bed is big enough to fit both of us, it’s okay.” you reassure her “oh,” she says awkwardly “are you sure?”

you let out a soft giggle, opposite to the state of your currently tear stained face “yes, im sure.”

you fall asleep together, laying side by side in your white seashell printed bed. a thin blanket covering the two of you as the wind blew inside the walls you had missed so dearly, the walls you had grown up in, the walls you hoped would stay engraved into your memory forever.

this summer was going to be different, it was going to be good.

ellie couldn't stop thinking about you. your new persona plagued her mind, awake and asleep. she couldn't stop thinking about you and it had taken effect. she woke up drenched. she groans as she shifts in her bed, trying desperately to fall back asleep. when that didn't work she turned to sleeping pills, which in this case didn’t help either.

she slowly slid her slender fingers to the waistband of her sweats she tried to imagine you in that bathing suit, god that bathing suit. her fingers met her aching clit, she slowly began rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves, she imagined you in the pool, your body drenched in water. she impatiently slid her fingers down to her slick covered slit,

god she was so fucked..

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firstdivisiongirl · 4 days

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Hi! I'd like to request number 4 for the summer event with Haitani Rindou from Tokyorev 🪄

The event is such a cute idea I can't wait to read your writing 🙇🏻‍♀️

Hey there. Thank you so much for the request and your kind words. I love the idea of an ice cream date. Seems like a great way to spend a hot day with a hot guy. Please enjoy!

Rindou Haitani x Reader: Strawberry

When Rindou asked you out, you were really shocked. He was a delinquent, a powerful one at that. You were just a normal student who didn’t get into trouble. Truth was, that’s what he liked about you. The fact that you weren’t scared of him or treated him differently. You were nice and pretty. Sadly, he picked the worst day to go on a date. It was extremely hot. What made it worse was every restaurant he tried to take you too was jammed packed because everyone was escaping from the heat. And most ice cream parlors were too.

“It’s okay Rindou,” you told him with the brightest smile, “I know the perfect spot!” You grabbed Rindou’s hand. Rindou started to turn as red as a tomato. But he followed you through the crowded streets of Roppongi. The further you got away from the main shopping areas the less crowded it became. He was so focused on trying to play it cool that he didn’t notice you stop in front of an old wooden cart. “Tad Ah,” you said proudly motioning to the ice cream cart.

“There’s no line,” he dumbly stated, trying to calm down his flustered self.

“Yep! My dad used to take me here all the time when I was little. No one usually ventures this far from the main shops, but I think they have the best ice cream in Roppongi!”

“Bold statement. Let’s test that theory.” The two of you walked up to the cart owner and ordered. He got matcha and you got strawberry.

“How do you like strawberry ice cream,” he bluntly asked as the two of you ate.

You paused for a second before turning towards him, “I think it’s nice. It’s more interesting than plain vanilla but not as sweet as chocolate. It takes the best of both flavors and combines them, with the extra fruitiness.”

After your little date, he took you back to your dorm. “Thanks Rindou,” you said smiling, “I had a great time.”

He smiled back, “I did too. Wanna go out another time?”

“I’d love that.”

You headed into your room when suddenly you turned around and kissed him gently. “Bye Rindou,” you said before opening the door and disappearing into your room. As he walked out of the dorms and back home, he realized something. You were right. Strawberry was nice.

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

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cdragons · 5 months

Text

Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter One

Prologue

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Aemond is delulu, tiny!Jace is delulu, Dark Themes, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for the amazing support for this story's prologue, I did NOT expect so many positive reviews! I'm sorry this took so long, but I had a ton of applications and finals. But since I am on winter break, hopefully I will be able to upload more fics! Happy Holidays and big shoutout to @valeskafics, who continues to be the HOTD fanfic writing ICON that we all know and love! If you liked reading this work, reblog and comment if you want to be tagged in future installments of this work! Also I apologize for any grammatical errors, I wanted to post this as soon as possible.

You have known your entire life that you were going to be one of the many seamstresses that serviced the Royal Family.

By the age of three, your mother would teach you how to begin your very first stitches, which soon shifted to learning the most complicated patterns of embroidery. You still remember the tears in her eyes as you presented the silk-woven handkerchief that had lovely little purple and blue flowers embroidered on the borders for her birthday. Your face flushed to an almost too bright red when she insisted on showing all the other royal seamstresses and tailors your first handkerchief. But it made you smile in remembering how big her smile was that week, as she was so pleased by how much you’ve progressed at such a young age.

When you were only six, your mother had begun to teach you how to properly extract the dye from beautiful flowers and the scales of brightly-colored insects. So skilled and nimble were your fingers that you even gave your childhood playmate, Aemond Targaryen, a thick green wool cloak with green and silver dragon embroidery. The cloak’s wool had been dyed by your hand with copious amounts of goldenrod and indigo flowers. You then carefully stitched silk to line the inside of the cloak to prevent him from overheating, as even the harshest winters in the Crownlands were hardly anything compared to the summers in the North. It had caught you off-guard in the almost too-tight embrace he locked you in, but you eagerly reciprocated as you could tell he appreciated the gift more than words could describe.

It was not just a gift for is name-day from a childhood companion, but also a way to reassure him that he will one day have a dragon. And even if the gods do not grant him worthy in their eyes, he would always be considered a prince worthy of the Targaryen name in yours. After all, there were not many princes that would willingly spend all their free time with a lowly seamstress’ daughter – even if the supposed seamstress that was your mother was so heavily favored by the Queen.

“Pearl,” came a voice with a tone far too serious despite its youth, “what are you doing in the Godswood?”

You lifted your head from old tome you were studying, only to see a young boy of only nine name-days, that stood as straight as one of the stone pillars that stood in the Sept of Baelor. His white locks nearly blinded you with how the sunshine seemed to reflect on them.

“Well my prince, as you can clearly see, I have decided to take advantage of this fine day to do a bit of studying of my own.” You lifted the near ancient tome on your lap to show him the title, Myths and Legends of the Jade Seas.

Whatever outwardly beauty the book possessed had long diminished, the spine was bent from the hundreds of hours spent looking through its contents and the letters were near faded to a dull grey as the pages yellowed from age. But the colors of the ink remained as vibrant as when they were first painted on the frail sheets, accompanied by beautiful imagery of magical dragons and elusive mermaids. The details were so fine and intricate that it felt as if you only needed to touch the ink in order to be transported into the stories. You remembered how you begged either your mother or father to read it to you every night, as utterly transfixed by the colors back then as you remained so now.

“You are more than welcome to join me, but if – and only if – you share one of those apples hiding in your knapsack.”

Finally showing an expression appropriate for his age, the young prince reached in his pouch to show two gorgeous apples – the skin was practically gleaming in the sun as your mouth watered for its taste. Aemond handed one to you as he sat by your side underneath the plentiful shade of the heart tree. Scooting over to make room on the overgrown root you sat on, you eagerly showed him strange text.

“Look Aemond!” you exclaimed as you shoved the book to his nose. “This book says that there were dragons in Yi Ti! Isn’t that amazing?”

Aemond looked at you as if you had suddenly grown two heads and five eyes. “How can there be dragons in Yi Ti? All the dragons save the ones in the dragonpit and the rocky shores of Dragonstone had perished in The Doom that sunk Valyria. Everyone knows that pearl.”

“These dragons are different! According to my kepa, Yi Ti dragons don’t even need wings to fly!”

The young prince rolled his eyes at that. “How could they fly if they don’t have wings? Even Carraxes the Blood Wrym has wings, and he looks like an overgrown red snake.” Honestly, his pearl could be so silly. “Besides, what would your father know? He’s a bastard from the Iron Islands, that’s nowhere near the Jade Seas.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “He heard so on his travels with Lord Velaryon and Prince Laenor! Apparently, these dragons use magic and live in the ocean. And they don’t even breathe fire! They make it rain and control the oceans!”

“…Pearl, I think you’ve been spending too much time making those dyes. The fumes must have gotten to your head.”

You openly gaped at your friend’s comment, completely in shock for how blatantly he dismissed you. It made you want to pound your fists on his person until he took it back. So naturally, you did just that.

“Aemond Targaryen, you take that back right now!” you shrieked. Although your actions told otherwise, the smile on your face showed that you took no true offense to his words. If anything, it pleased you to know that you could still make the stone-faced prince giggle as a boy should at his age.

“Never!”

As the two of you giggled and played, several pairs of wandering eyes spied and grimaced at the distasteful display. Although your friendship with the next generation of the royal family was no secret, much of the court disapproved of how highly the royal family thought of you and Prince Aemond’s friendship. After all, he was the second born prince of House Targaryen, born of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. By the time the Targaryen prince could toddle, great things were expected from him. From a very early age, he immersed himself in his studies befitting of a prince of Westeros. You, on the other hand, were only the daughter of a seamstress and a bastard knight who became a lord of a holding so minor that it had no name. You only skills were that you could make pretty dye, and stitch pretty pictures with a needle and thread.

But he always treated you kindly and defended you whenever his eldest brother decided to use you as his latest target for mockery. You were a precious pearl – his precious pearl – Aegon may be his brother, but he could never love Aegon as much as he loved you. True, your father being a bastard did you no favors in the Red Keep’s court, but Aemond would never tell you that himself. Instead, he openly acknowledged his bravery and commended his loyalty to the Crown. After all, how many bastards can boast that they saved the Lord Corlys Velaryon, holder of the Driftwood Throne, from a siege of pirates during one of the lord’s many voyages to Essos?

In turn, you always made sure to provide comfort and support whenever his brother and nephews decided to pick on him. Without fail, he would seek out your company – his eyes red and puffy, while his cheeks were wet from hastily wiped tears. You would take his hands and the two of you would venture out to the library’s more secluded sections. You made sure to pack whatever you have been working on with you. While you were glad that he came to you for comfort, it would do little good for either of you if you were to be punished for not completing whatever tasks your mother assigned you.

“Who cares if you don’t have a dragon?” you once asked him as the two of you laid next to each other, surrounded by books. “There are plenty members of the Targaryen line that did not have dragons, but they still lived out important lives in serving their family however they could. King Jaehaerys was considered a great ruler for how he served the realm– not for riding Vermithor. And even if you had a dragon, is that all you wish to be known for? Your grandfather, Baelon the Brave, was wise and beloved by the small folk for how he tried to make their lives easier. But all he is known for in history books is how he burned down Dorne with Vhagar.”

“Better to be known for a dragon than to disappear, not being known for anything – not even a dragon worthy of the Targaryen name.”

Sitting up against a bookshelf, you repositioned Aemond to lie his head on your thighs. Luckily the candlelight made the area dark enough so that you wouldn’t see his ears turning red. Instead, he buried his face in the soft cotton of your blue tunic as you stroked his soft silver white locks. Although his heart was beating erratically, your sweet scent along with your body’s suppleness was enough to take away any ire left in him.

“Stop that,” you ordered, “you will not be forgotten, don’t be so dramatic.” Eyes softening at his tense shoulders, you eased on the sternness of your tone. “Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao. Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī. Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros. Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.”

You pretended not to notice how tightly he clenched your dress as you ignored the how warm the spot where his hot tears grew.

As you continued to stroke his hair, Aemond made a silent vow that when he finally claimed a dragon, you would be the first person he would ride it with. He thought about how his bastard nephews would always try to take you from him, especially Jace, how he despised that boy. No, your touches would belong to him, and only him. Your sweet words and kind demeanor were his to cherish. You were his pearl – his pearl – and no one else’s, especially not the pretend Targaryen that was Jacaerys Strong.

Yes, it pleased Aemond to know that he was your best friend. But sometimes it frustrated him in how you refused to take him seriously as a man. For example, he once announced that when he claimed his dragon, he would finally be a noble dragon knight who would protect you from the most vicious of beasts. No matter how he insisted on his sincerity, you only rolled your eyes at the proclamation. You told him that you had no need for a knight, let alone a dragon knight. You had your dearest kepa for protection, and there was no finer knight in all the Seven Kingdoms in your eyes. So silly was his pearl indeed.

“Ashi’!” a new voice called out, interrupting the comfortable silence between him and his pearl. It belonged to the king’s eldest grandson, Prince Jacaerys Strong Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne after his mother, Princess Rhaenyra. “Your mother is looking for you! She said that she needs your help with Mother’s clothes!”

“Alright!” When you stood from you spot, you made sure to brush away any dirt or debris left on your skirts. You gathered your mother’s book in both arms when you made your way to the prince. “But why did my muña not send one of her attendants instead? It would not have been difficult to find me. Everyone knows that I enjoy reading under the Hearts Tree in the Godswood during my spare time. Are you not busy with your own duties, my prince?”

Straightening his posture to appear taller, Jace did his best to sound as authoritative as his father had taught him. “I just finished my lessons for the morning, and I volunteered to escort you. Besides, I figured that it would do me some good in practicing escorting you. I’ll need to do it in the future when I am king after my mother.” His round freckled cheeks reddened to a rosy hue at that last part.

Not at all catching the terribly obvious implication, you shrugged off his words as you figured that he meant that he was using you as practice for whichever future noble lady he would court in the future. However, the suggestion was not at all lost on your friend, who was still sitting on the overgrown root, glaring at his eldest nephew with a fury that rivaled the Great Doom that sunk Valyria.

“Well, we should be on our way then. Come on Aemond, we should get going!” You held out your held for your friend to hold on to, but were quickly interrupted by the brown-haired Targaryen at the side.

“He can’t! I mean-” stammered Jace as did his best in thinking of an excuse, “-I’m afraid my uncle cannot join us. You see, um – his mother, the Queen, requested his presence in her solar.”

“I’m sure my mother won’t mind waiting for a few moments while I join you in escorting my pearl to her favorite friend, nephew.” This wasn’t a lie on Aemond’s part. While he didn’t like the idea in keeping his mother waiting for him, he despised the thought of you being alone with the Strong Knight’s eldest bastard even more. Besides, his mother adored you as if you were her own daughter. It would have gone without saying that she would be happy with her son spending time with her best friend’s daughter.

“But why would you want to risk it, uncle?” Jacaerys wasn’t going to let his selfish uncle hog all of your attention. You were his friend too! It wasn’t fair that he had find crumbs of your time and affections, while his uncle got to feast on your smiles and laughter. He had spent hours with the dragon keepers of the dragonpit to help him train Vermax, all so that he could finally show you how close he was in riding him! But you were always too busy comforting his stupid dragonless uncle!

Enough was enough. Jacaerys may have been a Velaryon like his father, but he was also a Targaryen like his mother. It was he who carried the dragon’s blood, and dragons took what they desired or felt what they deserved. And he desrved to be with you more than Aemond.

“It’s alright Aemond, we’ll talk more later! Let’s go Jace, we shouldn’t keep our mothers waiting any more than we have.” Grabbing his hand before walking out of the gardens, you weren’t able to see the younger prince throw a triumphant smirk to his uncle before once more facing you with the story of how Luke accidentally got egg in his hair.

Watching his literal bastard of a nephew walk hand-in-hand away with his pearl, Aemond Targaryen felt his fury grow more potent with each step. He hated that you called his nephew by his nickname, all while he had none. What’s worse was the fact that you allowed him to refer to you as “Ashi.” What a ridiculous name, only a lowborn such as his nephew would refer to someone as precious as you as something as study and simple like “Ashi.” You were a pearl – his pearl, in fact. A fact that he felt was important to emphasize as he watched your head being thrown back in laughter. His anger grew to an all-time high when he watched you ruffle Jacaery’s hair with abundant affection.

Not wanting to make a scene, he walked to his mother’s chambers in fuming silence. While her presence wasn’t yours, maybe he could think of a plan to get you away from his whore of a sister and her illegitimate offspring.

If worse comes to worst, he might need to recruit his sister to his cause. He knew that Helaena would especially be thrilled in receiving your presence. You were the only one besides your parents that did not treat his beloved sister like an oddity. If you were not with Aemond, you were often found stitching with the young princess. It seemed that you were the only person in the entire world that could get her to smile.

Such a sweet girl, his pearl. Someone so kind was not meant to endure the presence of lowly bastards – even if they did technically carry royal blood.

He needed to come up with something fast.

Translations:

“Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao. Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī. Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros. Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.” - “You’re brilliant. I’ve never met anyone else who can speak such fluent High Valyrian, especially at your age. You can solve problems that Aegon has trouble with during your lessons with the Maester. Aemond, you are my best friend. Don’t say that you will be forgotten.”

Tagging:

@valeskafics, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @nellychick, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @mckiquinn, @cvspians, @aemondslove

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd au #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x oc #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x oc #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #reader insert

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starsandhughes · 8 months

Text

Penalty Box Series— Bonus Editions: Captain Quinn

22-23 Season/Summer Masterlist

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, and 15,788 others

yourusername laideez, non-laideez, gremlins, hockey babes, and everyone in between, allow me to introduce you to, CAPTAIN QUINN “HUGGY BEAR” HUGHES OF THE VANCOUVER CANUCKS!

quintin, i’ve been DYING to get this one off my chest since the second you called me with the news and i’m so beyond ecstatic that i woke up today knowing that your captaincy would be announced! i knew it with my whole butt that tocc and the rest of the canucks organization would pick you after the family dinner with them last week. (p.s. thanks for buying a margarita <3)

you said that this honor isn’t the end to your learning and that you’re excited to learn more about yourself through this great new opportunity, and i can’t wait to be there right beside you (from various hundreds of miles away at any given time)!

congratulations on being a single father! i’m so proud of you, captain best friend! mwah! you’re going to do amazing things this season, and i can’t wait to see what they are🩵 i love you!

tagged _quinnhughes and canucks

view all 223 comments

_quinnhughes thank you, sissy! i love you too! were some of these pictures really necessary?

yourusername i just think everyone should know the type of captain they’re getting <3 a great one! an icon! a hero! my hero! a meme! captain meme!

_quinnhughes please don’t start that

jackhughes @_quinnhughes too late

trevorzegras #CaptainMeme

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/trevorzegras lovely

lhughes_06 CAPTAIN MEEMEEEEE

user24 THAT’S MY MF CAPTAIN

trevorzegras i’m so proud of you bro!! congrats!! please defend me to refs!! @_quinnhughes

_quinnhughes yeah you wish (thanks z!!)

yourusername @_quinnhughes feel free to slightly talk shit

trevorzegras @/yourusername feel free to learn to love

yourusername @/trevorzegras feel free to learn how to stfu

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras @/yourusername “be fucking for real” -sissy

yourusername @_quinnhughes BE FUCKING FOR REAL

_quinnhughes -sissy

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes she is um… not pleased right now

jackhughes @_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras we don’t piss off the baby! do you two know nothing?!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes I DIDN’T DO SHIT

jackhughes @/trevorzegras THEN WHY IS SHE MAD

trevorzegras @/jackhughes I’M WORKING ON IT

user50 i’m in tears again oh my god

colecaufield IN HIS CAPTAIN ERA🏒🤍 @_quinnhughes congratulations stud!!

_quinnhughes thank you coley!!!

yourusername bestie points for the taylor ref!!

colecaufield @/yourusername i saw my chance and i took it

_quinnhughes @/colecaufield so did the canucks media team

colecaufield @_quinnhughes i didn’t say it was an original chance

yourusername @/colecaufield we love an honest king!!

user68 OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN🥵😭

jackhughes you just had to one up me, didn’t you?😂 congratulations, quinny! so proud of you!! @_quinnhughes

yourusername #QuinnIsTheSuperiorBrother #CaptainMeme

_quinnhughes it’s what i do best @/jackhughes thank you!

_quinnhughes @/yourusername sissy. please stop.

yourusername @_quinnhughes quintin. i do what i want.

jackhughes @_quinnhughes you tried!

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes you gave it a valiant effort!

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras i didn’t even know you knew that word

yourusername @_quinnhughes i got me a word of the day chart and he’s been learning with me

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes we’ve been working out our brains in the offseason a tad

_eliaspettersson congratulations bro🎉🥳 you deserve it!!

_quinnhughes thanks, petey!

yourusername PETEY!! LIGHT OF MY LIFE!! I MISS YOU!! don’t let the power go to his head!!

_eliaspettersson @/yourusername i miss you, too! i’ll try my best😂

yourusername @_eliaspettersson tysm you’re a real one! mwah!🩵

user12 and the hottest captain in the league goes to…

lhughes_06 so proud to be your little brother @_quinnhughes ! congratulations!

_quinnhughes thank you, moose! you’re my favorite brother!

jackhughes @_quinnhughes HEY!

yourusername @/jackhughes you’re my favorite soulmate!

jackhughes @/yourusername i was lead to believe i’m your only soulmate… i am now not so sure

yourusername @/jackhughes dramatic much? this is quinn’s post! not yours!

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes yeah!

jackhughes i have this gut feeling that i’m being attacked right now

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes you should start trusting your gut

user41 the captain, the alternate captain, the rookie, and their sister— C.A.R.S: a hughes story

canucks we love our captain!!

yourusername heelllllll yeah we do!!

_alexturcotte CAPTAIN HUGGY! ALL HAIL!

yourusername BOW BEFORE OUR RULER

_alexturcotte HE IS THE ONE THAT WILL SAVE US FROM OUR WICKED FATE

_quinnhughes @_alexturcotte @/yourusername and that fate is????

_alexturcotte @_quinnhughes trevor

yourusername THE HORROR

trevorzegras @/yourusername i love you, too, babe🧡

yourusername @/trevorzegras i love you, always!

trevorzegras @/yourusername i love you, forever!

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras quit that i’m supposed to save alex from you

_alexturcotte @_quinnhughes come quick, he’s getting closer!

trevorzegras @_alexturcotte i’m coming for your bucket hats

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras not if i come for yours first

yourusername @_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras @_quinnhughes dibs on all bucket hats!

jamie.drysdale congrats @_quinnhughes!! you deserve it, bud!

_quinnhughes thanks jimmy! take care of sissy and z for me, yeah?

jamie.drysdale i always will

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes AWW YOU DO LOVE ME

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras i never said that

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes i love you too, huggy!!!!!

yourusername aww my favorite boys are getting along! somebody get my camera! this is getting framed!

colecaufield mark your calendars people! alert the news! history was just made!

jamie.drysdale what a lovely turn of events

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale i could cry

_quinnhughes added this to their story

canucks added this to their story

jackhughes added this to their story

lhughes_06 added this to their story

#penalty box series #penalty box series: bonus editions #quinn hughes #quinn hughes edit #quinn hughes insta edit #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #trevor zegras #captain quinn hughes #jamie drysdale #cole caufield #alex turcotte #vancouver canucks

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footiehoefics · 7 months

Text

Change of heart

Sikeee, I'm posting it right now hehe. @trentskinator98 my love has been waiting for this one ever since I made the polls HAHAHA so I'm so excited for you to read it and for everyone else as well! I had this idea on my notes for so long so writing it was so fun! I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any ideas you are welcome to message me or send me an ask :)! TW: none, Angst/Fluff, 3.5k words

gif: @pernillecfcw

Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you were satisfied with how your look had turned out. Light yellow dress, white high heels, hair down, bronzed natural makeup and a little bit of jewelry. You turned around to see your boyfriend struggling with his tie, again.

“Why are this things so fucking hard to put on?” he mumbled to himself

“Mase, baby, there will come a day where I won’t be able to do your tie so you really have to learn.” you said smiling, walking towards him to help him.

“Stop, don't say that, I am not thinking about your death right when we are about to go to a wedding.” he said, giving up with the black tie.

“Oh my God,” you laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that weirdo, I just mean maybe one day I won’t be with you getting ready.” you said, grabbing the tie getting closer to him.

Your face was almost touching his, your arms wrapped around his shoulder trying to fix his tie situation with the stubborn collar he had. “You look beautiful by the way.” Mason said, making you blush. “You still blush at my compliments?” he asked you, smiling. “Of course I do.” you said now looking at him and giving him a peck. “And you…” you said, giving him another kiss, “look very handsome. You need to wear a suit more.” He smiled at you, kissing you again. He brushed his tongue over your bottom lip asking for access but you knew if it got heated you wouldn't leave in 5 minutes. “Mmm Mase no” you mumbled in between his kisses. “Why not?” “Because we have to leave now, the wedding is in 30 minutes.” You detach yourself from him, smirking at yourself at how horny your boyfriend was.

You grabbed your purse and walked down stairs to head out. You were excited about the wedding. One of yours and Mason’s friend was getting married to his highschool sweetheart who you both knew very well. Marc, your friend, actually introduced you both 6 months ago. It had been 4 months of heaven with Mason. It had its bumps since his football career was not great towards the end of the season, but you tried to be there for him while giving him his space and he appreciated it more than anything.

Pulling up to the venue, you saw Ben, Kai and Sophia waiting for you two at the entrance.

“Wooww you look insane.” you said to Sophia while getting out of the car. “Thank you.” Ben replied, smiling. “Not you Ben.” You told him, rolling your eyes playfully at him.

Both of you greeted everyone with hugs and made your way into the wedding ceremony. Hand in hand, you both were in awe of the venue and the decoration. It looked beautiful. It was an outdoor ceremony during the afternoon with a perfect view of the sunset. The party however, would be inside one of the ballrooms of the very fancy hotel which you were now dying to see.

“This is so beautiful, wow.” you said in awe of everything. One of the servers came towards all of you and offered drinks which you gladly accepted.

“Kai, we really need to start looking for wedding venues.” Sophia said, admiring the whole place. You laughed at her comment and Kai just rolled his eyes.

“When are you planning on doing the wedding?” Mason asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Next summer, after the season is done-” Kai tried saying when Sophia interrupted him “Which means I will do all the wedding preparations while he is playing football every 3 days.” Both you and Mason laughed at her comment.

“Soph, are you going to be like a bridezilla?” Mason asked giggling. “Oh stop, I hope for my sake not.” Kai replied

You were engrossed in their conversation and the jokes when you noticed someone entering the venue.

You couldn’t miss him, and it was not a surprise to you he was here. After all, he and Marc were friends. Joe, your ex boyfriend started greeting people once he entered. You gulped nervously. Having your boyfriend and your ex boyfriend at the same wedding was not ideal.

Joe and you had broken up almost a year and half ago. It wasn’t a quick relationship, you were with him for 4 years. He had proposed to you even. He had invited his whole family, leaving your family completely out of it, and proposed on a lake. When he proposed you were shocked. You were not expecting it at all, due to the fact that he had cheated on you a month prior. He did not know you knew he had cheated, so the audacity of him to propose after cheating made your blood boil. You found out about his infidelity 3 days before he proposed. You of course rejected his proposal, leaving him in a state of shock.

You loved him, of course you did. However, there was never a point in your relationship where you thought you would marry him. He was not the dream man you always thought you’d end up with. To be completely honest, you had stayed with him for so long because it felt easy. It scared you leaving him after building a life with him and finding someone new, even though you knew you needed someone else.

When you found out about him cheating, it hurt, but not nearly as much as you had thought. Maybe because you could finally use that as an excuse to leave him?

When he started getting on one knee, you immediately knew what he was doing. You wanted to grab his arms and pull him up and avoid the embarrassment. It pissed you off. He took that away from you. Your marriage proposal was supposed to be one of the best moments of your life, and he took away that moment from you.

Long story short, you said no and explained why. He turned white as a ghost and didn't even try to deny it. You spent almost 30 minutes figuring out what to do with his family who were in the cabin waiting to surprise you both. You decided to go to a hotel and stay away from him. To this day you don't know what he said to his family. The next day you went to the cabin, grabbed your things and left him.

Mason knew all of this. He knew he had proposed, how he cheated on you and everything shitty he did to you during your relationship. One of the first dates with Mason was a golf date and dinner at a pub. You stayed in that pub until 3 am talking about everything. You opened up so much to him. Ever since that day you both knew you were it, although you had never said it to each other.

As soon as you saw him, you got visibly nervous. You didn't even want to say hi to him. You also didn't want Mason to talk to him. Joe loved to rile people up, you knew if Joe said anything to Mason, he would get pissed and a scene would happen. You didn't want the wedding to become a fighting pit. Today was not about you, Joe or Mason. It was about the love of your friends.

Mason snapped you out of your thoughts by handing you another drink. “You okay?” he asked, grabbing your hand and rubbing it with his thumb. “Yea I’m fine…should we go sit down?” you asked him, smiling. He nodded his head, but he knew you like the back of his hand, and he could tell something was bothering you.

—-

The ceremony was beautiful. Vows always made you tear up, resulting in Mason making fun of you and Sophia lending you powder to fix your make up.

The bride and the groom made their exit and you were all guided to the party. Outside looked like a painting with the sunset in the background, but inside it looked like you were in a Palace. It was beautiful, there was a big bar, a dance floor, the buffet filled with delicious food and all the tables beautifully decorated with flowers.

You were seated between Mason and Sophia. Your table was great, it was a mix of Mason’s friends and yours. You were having a really lovely night you had forgotten Joe was there.

That was until everyone got up to dance. All of you had a bit to drink so everyone at that point was tipsy including you both. You left the dance floor to go to the bar and grab more drinks for everyone.

You were about to thank the waiter when you felt a cold hand on your shoulder making you turn around.

“Hello stranger.” Joe said, smirking. You saw his piercing blue eyes stare at you, you didn’t know what to say.

“Long time no see right?” He asked kind of hugging you sideways. You didn’t want to be rude so just smiled and lightly hugged him back.

“Yea long time no see.” you took a sip of your drink, not sure what else to say. I mean, there was nothing to say really.

“Who are you here with?” Joe asked you sitting down on the stool in front of him

“Oh I’m with my boyfriend.” you replied

“That’s right you’re dating Mason right? The football guy? Yea, Marc told me about that.” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Um yea, we’ve been dating for a little while…” you wanted to get out of that conversation. You had no idea how to hold the conversation, and you knew it looked weird. You also didn’t want Mason getting a bad impression of what was happening.

You started looking everywhere for him, your eyes darting from left to right, trying to avoid Joe’s gaze.

“You looking for him already? I bored you that quickly?” he asked, laughing.

“No…I just um…need to give him his drink-” you stuttered but got cut off by someone hugging you from behind.

“Ayoooo guys I’m so happy you’re here!” It was Marc. He looked wasted. You could smell the tequila, and you could see a red stain of wine already on his shirt.

“I’m so glad you guys are talking! Do we get some shots?” Marc asked, almost yelling in your ear.

“Oh no thank-” you were about to say.

“Yes please!” Joe replied laughing at Marc’s state. “What do we want? Tequila? Jagger? Vodka? The lady chooses”

“Um, just tequila, with lime please.” You replied. You were feeling uncomfortable being there. Marc was now in between you two with one arm over your shoulder and one over his shoulder.

You took your shot, instantly regretting it. It was really strong. You were about to say goodbye, but you felt a pair of warm hands grab your waist. You turned around, and were relieved to see your boyfriend.

“Oh hey. I was about to go and give you your drink.” you said smiling trying to get as far away as you could form Joe so they didn’t start talking. You handed Mason his drink and saw he was looking directly at Joe.

“Well, well Mason!” Joe said enthusiastically. “We finally meet, I’m Joe, your girl’s ex boyfriend.” Joe said, smirking at him. Mason shook his hand with a blank expression on his face. You wanted to go hide in the corner from the awkward tension you felt.

“Heyyy what about another shot now with Mase!” Marc exclaimed. “Marc, I think you had too many shots already.” Mason said with a tone of concern as he watched his friend stumble towards the bar table.

“Oh c’mon it’s his wedding, let him enjoy himself.” Joe said, patting Marc in the back. “I would’ve gotten this drunk if we had gotten married.” Joe laughed along with Marc. You were now red in the face. This was exactly what you wanted to avoid. You just laughed awkwardly, trying to not make it awkward but Mason was stone cold serious.

“Too bad you cheated on her and were a piece of shit…” Mason said, almost mumbling to himself taking a sip of his drink but all of you could hear him clearly.

Joe stood up from the bar stool, “What did you say?” he said, visibly angry at Mason.

“I said you are a piece of sh-” “Okay, okay, how about we go back to the table and leave Marc and Joe?” you said getting in between him and Mason.

“Yea guys c’mon we are having a good ti-” Marc fell off the stool trying to break the situation. “Oh shit.” you tried getting him up, but Joe got a hold of him and took him outside to his now wife.

Once you saw he was with his wife, you turned around and Mason was not there anymore. You started walking back to the table, and saw he was walking in the same direction as you.

“Mason!” you tried calling him over the loud music. He didn’t stop at the table, instead he went straight towards the bathrooms. You followed him there and called him out again. “Hey don’t ignore me please” you said grabbing his arm making him stop.

“What do you want?” he had never used that cold tone with you and you didn’t like it.

“Babe, I’m sorry about that.” you didn't know how to start, but sorry seems good enough.

He didn’t answer you. “I mean, what was I supposed to say? I didn’t want to cause a scene-” you tried saying.

“Oh yea so me shutting up was the solution.” He put his hand in his pocket, and replied with an annoyed expression.

“What? No. I just…” his response kind of shocked you. You both had never argued before and never had this big of problems. “Mase I just didn’t want this to turn into something more okay? We are at a wedding, Jesus.”

“Yea whatever, you can go and hang out with him more if you want.” With that he turned around and entered the men’s bathroom leaving you speechless.

Did you fuck up? Maybe. But the situation made you uncomfortable and you were terrible at handling those types of situations. His comment and reaction upset you, but he had the right to be mad.

—-

You got back to the table, and it was empty. Everyone was on the dance floor having a great time. The whole night had been magical and amazing. That was until 20 minutes ago when Joe had approached you.

“Your boyfriend went missing again?” you heard someone say behind you. You turned your head around to see Joe smirking.

“Don’t Joe, please.” you said, rolling your eyes and turning your head away from him. He grabbed the chair next to you and sat down. If Mason saw you again with him after what happened he would get more pissed.

As soon as he sat down, you stood up and started walking away. “Oh c’mon, is your boyfriend gonna have a melt down if he sees you with me?” Joe said, making you stop in your tracks.

“Listen to me, I don’t want to talk to you okay? I don’t want you to fuck this up for me! I respect him enough to walk away from a bad situation, unlike you with me who had no respect for me whatsoever!” you said angrily.

Joe was taken back by your response. “You really need to get over it my God…”

“Joe, I did, I probably wouldn't be dating anyone otherwise you idiot.” you said calming down a bit more. “I got over the fact you cheated on me and had the fucking audacity to propose to me after the fact, you took that away from me, a moment that was supposed to be the best moment ever, you took it away. So please, fuck off, leave me alone, and let me enjoy the night with my boyfriend okay?” Joe looked at you not knowing what to say, so he just left.

—-

After an hour or so sitting at the empty table, everyone was instructed to sit down and listen to the speeches. Mason came to sit down by your side, this time not holding your hand or placing his hand on your thigh. It was weird being that close to him and not touching him. You knew he was still mad so you gave him space.

“You okay babe?” you heard Sophia whisper in your ear.

“Yea I’m good don’t worry.” you sheepishly smiled at her. She knew there was something going on, but didn’t want to ask you right at that moment. Instead she just leaned her head on your shoulder to offer comfort and you leaned your head on hers.

—-

The speeches were done, and you cried again. Sophia gave you her powder to touch up your make up for the second time that night.

The DJ started playing slower songs for the bride and groom to have their dance and moment. After two songs, the DJ encouraged everyone to join them and dance.

Mason got up from his chair, you assumed he would go to the bar with Chilly, but instead he held out his hand for you. You were confused as to what he wanted to do.

“Dance?” he asked, slightly smiling. You smiled back at him, grabbed his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor.

Once you reached the dance floor, he grabbed you by the waist with both hands and you placed both your arms around his shoulder, hiding your face on the crook of his neck.

Your heart was beating really fast. Should you apologize again or should you let the romantic moment carry on?

“You know I never gave much thought to marriage until I met you?” Mason said, making you look at his brown eyes.

“Really?” you asked.

“Mhm, I never ever met a girl that made me think “I would want to marry her one day.”

“So…you want to marry me?” you asked, gently rubbing his neck with your hands.

“I do, do you?” he asked.

“Of course I do.” you said, whispering it.

“I always wanted to get married Mase, but I was never with like my dream man.” you said again.

“Oh so I’m your dream man?” Mason asked, smiling to himself and making you giggle.

“Yes Mason Mount, you are the man of my dreams.” you said giggling.

You both stared into each other with a lot of love.

“You know I love YOU right? No one else, no one else comes close.” you spoke up, resting your forehead on his.

“And I love you…” he kissed you lovingly. You could hear the soft music playing and the outside noise but in that moment it was you and him.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I really am. I didn’t know how to-”

“Shh, stop. I know you are sorry and I know it was that dickhead that wanted to provoke me.” he said, making you laugh.

“He can be very annoying.” “Pff, he’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I met him for like 5 seconds.” Both you and Mason laughed at his comment.

You both kept dancing to the song the DJ kept playing, in the same position.

—-

Your feet started to hurt, so you decided to go outside and get a bit of rest and fresh air. You sat down near a balcony with the amazing view of the city.

Mason had given you his jacket since your dress was not made for cold nights. You were sitting on his lap, one arm around your waist and the other intertwined with your on top of your thigh.

“You know… I got addicted to you so easily.” he said, making you look at him. He was still staring at the amazing view in front of him. “I care about you more than you think, I think about you all the time and I appreciate you being by my side this summer when things got hard. I know I can be a pain in the ass when I’m moody but you didn’t care.” he said giggling. Everything he had said, no man or boy had ever said to you in your life. You felt tears building up in your eyes.

“Mase…” you tilted your head to one side looking at him lovingly, and he hugged you. He knew you were overwhelmed by his love, but you would have it any other way.

“Weddings make you so soppy.” you said after hugging him tightly.

“Get used to it because at our wedding, God…” he laughed.

“I love you so much, more than anything.” you said, cupping his face with your hands.

“I love you baby.” He kissed you and you kissed him back.

You still couldn't believe you were dating the man of your dreams and you were going to marry him one day. After Joe, you didn't even know if it was possible. But Mason changed your perspective completely.

No word could describe what you two felt for one another.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount fic #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount angst #mason mount fluff #football imagine #football fan fiction

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 2 years

Text

when he sees me || Lee Know

Pairing: Lee Know x f!Reader

Summary: Interacting with others has never been easy for you, whether it is talking to them or, worse, flirting with them. As a result, relationships, but also any form of sexual interactions have always eluded you. You had no reason to think that was going to change anytime soon.

And then your hot neighbor’s cat shows up in your apartment, and you think that things just might change. Even if it’s only on one front.

Word count: 13.3k

Genre: Neighbors AU, slice of life, smut, fluff & angst

Warnings & Tags: mention of a dead grandparent, social anxiety, insecurities, loss of virginity, reader doesn’t tell minho that she’s a virgin, smut (vaginal sex, oral sex [female receiving], fingering, very soft sex), unreliable narrator, unresolved romantic tension.

A/N: Hi everyone! After going through a rough past couple of... six months, hence the disappearance, and pretty much not writing/not finishing anything for all of that, I just really wanted to try writing something again. This was long — it basically took me the whole summer to write this piece — but I’m happy that I’ve managed to create something again :) Thank you to all of the people who sent kind messages during that time, I saw them and truly appreciated them. I hope you enjoy this, and I would really appreciate it if you could let me know your thoughts, especially if you like it!

“It sounds like you really needs to get laid,” Nari comments, and the table laughs heartily while you smile. You make the conscious effort of creasing your eyes, so it looks genuine, but hopefully no one can tell. She reaches over to grab your hand, an amused grin on her face, and squeezes it. “We’ll get on that soon, I promise, but in the meantime, being here is the next best thing.”

You smile and nod, but you also shift slightly in your chair.

‘Here’ is the District 9, and it’s, for all intents and purposes, a strip club. There’s no actual stripping happening, but there are scantily-clad men dancing on stage, and rumors flying around about ‘private sessions’ that can happen in one of the backrooms, if you’re willing to pay. You and your friends — coworkers — are here for the men. But, as the lights dim and your friends start clapping, instead of focusing on the stage, you cast a look over your shoulder.

You’re pretty bad at the whole ‘neighbors’ thing. It’s not a voluntary decision, and more of a unfortunate consequence of how bad you are at maintaining interpersonal relationships. Over the years, you’ve come to a certain mastery of small-talk. You’ve gotten quite decent at making a good first impression, as long as someone starts the interaction for you.

You’d been living in the apartment your grandmother had left you for a little over six months when you found out most of the people living on the same floor as you resented you for never introducing yourself to them.

“I didn’t know I had to,” you’d mumbled awkwardly, shoulders shrinking.

“It’s not like you have to,” your mother had been quick to reply. “It’s just the polite thing to do, you know?”

Yeah. ‘The polite thing to do’ was usually what you had to do, but it didn’t surprise you that she wouldn’t understand what that meant for someone like you.

You’d regained their favor by helping out here and there when it came to carrying the groceries. Most of the people here had, like your grandmother, bought an apartment in the building with the intention of spending their retirement here. It wasn’t a great place by any stretch of the imagination, but it had an elevator and a bus line close by. At that age, that had been enough to convince them of pouring their whole life savings into an apartment, and you thought the sense of community it gave them was enough to make it worth it. It was good to know that your grandmother wouldn’t have been isolated here, though the fact that she’d never made it into the apartment broke your heart every time you thought about it.

There seemed to be one other person your age, a man you’d caught glimpses of every now and then. You’d seen someone with a hoodie standing in front of the mailboxes, you’d noticed a motorcycle that you were convinced no one else here could be using and, once, you’d seen a side profile — strong nose, well-defined jaw, bored eyes, and an earring dangling by his neck — as he’d walked past the elevator. As a reflex, you’d lifted a hand to halt it, but he hadn’t so much as glanced in your direction, going straight for the staircase.

No one here took the stairs.

“What a handsome young man,” Mrs. Choi has sighed dreamily next to you, before giving you a pointed look. “Don’t you agree, darling?”

The question had brought a smile to your lips. You found it sweet, the way older people in the building seemed to really want you to find a significant other.

“I didn’t see him all that well,” you had answered.

But what you’d seen had, indeed, been more than enough for you to agree to her.

The first dancer to get on stage has Nari gasping sharply and mumbling a quiet “fuck” under her breath, and it makes you grin. He’s been introduced as Chris, though you happen to know that’s not what his friends call him. For now, he’s sitting astride a chair, back turned towards the public.

To be fair, it is a very nice back. Muscular, with broad shoulders, and what you can guess of the arms seems impressive as well. When he turns around, Nari pretty much spits out the alcohol she’d just ingested at an attempt of calming herself down. He looks completely focused on his routine as he starts to dance, more sputter coming from your friends when he starts to aggressively thrust his hips.

He’s hot, you can’t deny that, but— you’re not sure. This kind of things just— doesn’t seem to be for you. Maybe it’s the monetary aspect that makes you uncomfortable, maybe it’s the way he’s avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s impossible for you to imagine that someone like you could be attracted to you, even remotely.

That’s not a new thing for you. Generally speaking, you can’t imagine the people you’re attracted to could be interested in you in return.

With one recent exception to this rule.

You had just come home from work, and all you wanted to do was throw yourself on your couch with a drama and never think about the outside world ever again. It was way later than it should reasonably be, because, as often, you’d stayed behind to work. So had most of your department. Unpaid hours, away from family and respite. You suspected that rhythm would drive you insane at some point, but you hoped you still had a few years left before that.

You had just had enough time to grab something to drink in your fridge when you’d heard meowing outside the window.

That wasn’t a rare occurence in the building. While cats weren’t technically allowed, they were tolerated, considering the fact that a good three quarters of the people here owned at least one.

What was rare was for one to be on your balcony, ginger tail up in the air as the cat’s head went through the bars. Your heart leaped in your chest, and you were on your feet in a second, rushing to the bay window. You opened it slowly, not wanting to scare the small animal, but were quick to pull it back after that, which earned you a nasty scratch to your wrist. Still, after that the cat was inside, no longer at risk of falling out.

“Where the hell did you come from?” you mumbled, watching him lap up the water you’d served for him. The only answer to your question was that he had jumped from an above balcony. He didn’t seem to be limping, but you had no way of making sure that he wasn’t injured.

When you left in the morning, after too short a night of sleep, you put a note about the cat on the building door, then went about your day.

The mystery man was sitting on the floor in front of your door when you got home. His head’s falling forward, face hidden by the black hoodie, but it snaps up with the ding of the elevator and then he’s looking straight at you.

And you forget how to breathe for a second.

‘Handsome’ doesn’t even begin to cover the way he looks. Almost black eyes are staring up at you, and dark brown hair fall in front of his face and framing it elegantly. Your eyes follow the nose, down to the well defined philtrum, the fleshy lips. He looks unreal.

You swallow.

“You’re here for the cat?” you manage to squeak out, after what you hope wasn’t too long or uncomfortable of a silence.

The man sighs and pushes himself up, letting his hood fall back. He’s not wearing the same earring as last time.

“Ginger cat?”

“With a white belly,” you’re quick to nod.

“Is he an asshole?”

Your mouth falls open. Maybe it’s because you’re so careful with your language, especially around strangers, but the vulgarity takes you by surprise. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“I mean I might not phrase it like that,” you mumble, “but, uh, yeah, he’s not…” You glance down at the bandage on your hand, hiding it behind your back. “He’s not very nice.”

Another sigh. He runs a hand through his hair, and you follow the movement with wide eyes — and probably too much interest.

“Yeah. That sounds like Doongie.”

He leans against the wall, and when you realize he’s waiting for you, you rush by him to open the door.

“So, where, uh, where do you live?”

With your back turned towards him, you miss the brief tightening of his shoulders at your question.

“Above here,” he shrugs, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling.

That makes it even stranger that he’s not taking the elevator, you think as you step inside and kick your shoes off by the door.

“He must be somewhere around here, I—”

“There he is,” the man comments from behind you.

And, indeed, the cat’s sitting on the table. He has interrupted the cleaning of his paw to stare at you and his owner, but the sight doesn’t seem to captivate him long, because he soon goes back to his business.

You hear a light chuckle behind you, and when you look back, you see a surprisingly fond smile on the man’s face. It completely transforms his expression, making him go from cold and kind of scary to warm and friendly in a second.

“It’s definitely him. Can I—?”

“Oh, sure, be my guest, but, uh, be careful. He lets his claws out pretty easily.”

When he shoots you a grin at the warning, you think you’re about to faint. Despite it, and despite his earlier claim that the cat was an asshole, he has no difficulty in catching it, and you hear him mumble some quiet, sweet praises to the cat as he scratches it behind the ear. The cat doesn’t complain either.

“Any idea how he got here?” you ask, just to say something, because standing awkwardly in the door entrance feels weird.

“He’s a little acrobat, aren’t you Doongie?” the man responds.

“I saw that there were some, uh, barriers you can put up to stop your cat from falling. Even if he's clearly good at that stuff, you know, it can’t hurt.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll look into that,” he nods, slowly walking towards the entrance, careful to keep the cat steady in his arms. As he gets closer, you hear the cat’s purring, and you resist the temptation to caress it, worried that you’ll make him unhappy again. “Thank you, by the way. For looking after him.”

“Oh, that’s— That’s nothing, really,” you’re quick to shake your head. “I was happy to, and I’m happy he found his way back to you.”

“It’s Minho, by the way,” he says, and you nod, replying with your name, as he puts his shoes back on with surprising dexterity considering one of his hands is taken by a now pliant Doongie.

“Let me know if you need someone to keep an eye on him,” you say, though you’re immediately unsure of where that came from, of whether or not you’re sincere or if you’re just trying to be polite.

That makes the corner of his lips twitch — a smile that is for you this time, though it soon vanishes.

“Then you’d also have to deal with his siblings, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t want to force that on you.”

Siblings. Plural. That’s at least three cats.

Maybe you should adopt one too. So far, your crippling fear of disobeying authority has kept you from doing it, but if everyone in the building has some, it’s kind of unfair if you have to hold back.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind,” you say, deciding that you do mean it. “I guess I’ll, uh, see you around?”

He nods, bowing his head in a polite gesture, before he walks out. You notice that, once more, he heads towards the staircase rather than the elevator, and your brain uselessly notes that if he’s always doing that, it explains how impressive his thighs look, but you shut it down.

Someone else, like your friends, for example, would probably have immediately started daydreaming about some neighbor romance. You have to admit that it is incredibly tempting, even if he barely looked at you throughout the whole thing, to imagine yourself in his arms. Yet, you reign your imagination in quickly. You don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment by imagining something that will never be.

After all, it’s never worked for you before.

“Holy shit, that was fucking hot,” Nari mumbles next to you, swallowing half of her drink in one go. “This place is heaven on earth.”

“I’d sell my whole family to ride those hips,” Daeun hisses from across the table, a sentiment that is echoed by the other girls. You don’t say anything, not that anyone notices. It’s not so much that you disagree, but rather that you feel— somewhat ill-equipped to deal with that sort of conversations. Enough to make you retreat in your chair, hoping no one notices.

The issue, here, is your complete lack of experience. It’s not that you ‘haven’t dated in a while’, though that is usually what you say. You haven’t dated. At all. And you don’t have the experience that people your age are supposed to have. At all. Not a first time, not a first hook-up, and, until quite recently, not even a stupid first kiss.

It didn’t bother you for a long time, as your years in high school, then in college, had passed. You’d always thought it would come, eventually. At some point, though, it had started giving you this gnawing feeling. You had never been your biggest fan, after all. Slowly, the question of whether or not something was wrong with you started taking up more and more space in your mind. That was what people said about incels, right? That they were unable to accept that they were responsible for people’s lack of interest.

After all, it wasn’t just that you hadn’t ever gotten that far with anyone. It was a general lack of interest. Where your friends never came back from a trip without a few stories about guys hitting on them, it just… didn’t happen to you. It didn’t help how shitty it made you feel that you were so ashamed of your own feelings, when your friends were complaining about unwanted male attention. When they talked about how ‘guys would hit on anything that looks even vaguely like a woman’.

Wasn’t it just pathetic? Were you really that desperate, that stupid to feel like that over what were essentially stories of sexual harassment?

Fuck. No wonder no one was interested, or that no one had ever been interested.

Your friends from high school and college — the ones you still talked to — were aware of the complete desert that were your romantic and sexual lives. Your colleagues… weren’t. It had just become embarrassing to mention it, at some point.

So, whenever something like that came up you just— tried to make yourself disappear, basically.

It definitely didn’t help that, for the first time since college and your last handful of disappointing and unrequited crushes, there was someone that you would like to have something with.

It’s 8 a.m. on a Saturday morning when you’re woken up by relentless knocking against your door. You’ve been asleep for five hours, tops, which wasn’t part of your plans for how you wanted to start the week-end. You stumble out of bed, then through your living-room, and you’re yawning when you open the door.

“Wh-what’s going on?” you slur sleepily.

In front of you if the neighbor with the cat. Minho, your brain provides to you after a painful second of hesitation. In your defense, you haven’t seen him since the incident, which must have been— about a month ago, you’d say. You’d even wondered if he’d left the building because, yes, embarrassingly, you had been hoping you’d run into him again, even though, up until now, you’d suspected he had promptly forgotten your existence after stepping out of your apartment.

“Does your offer to look after my cats still stand?”

You blink, and you notice that he’s holding two cats in his arms, with a third one in a box on the floor.

“What?”

“My mom fell down the stairs,” he says quickly, words so fast they come out jumbled. “I have to go see her and it— it shouldn’t be for more than a few days. I promise.”

You study his face, wondering if he’s lying and on his way to a week-end with his friends, wondering if you’re being taken advantage of by some guy who’s noticed how desperate for any kind of male attention you—

This isn’t helping.

Looking at him, his fear seems obvious. His eyes are searching yours, his breathing is shallow, and the twinge of panic in his voice finishes to convince you.

“Sure,” you say. “I’ll—”

“Okay,” he says, rushing to put the cats he was holding inside. “This one’s Soonie,” he point to a ginger cat, “Dori,” grey cat, “and you’ve already met Doongie. This,” he grabs a box, “is their food and litter box, they eat twice a day, dry food in the morning, wet in the evening, water whenever they want. They like to play but you don’t have to do anything with them and—” he pulls out a paper from his pocket, “that’s my number in case you need anything.”

You shake your head a little in a desperate effort to follow him, but he just said far too many words for your tired brain.

“Alright,” you say instead of asking for clarification. “Any idea when you’ll get back?”

“I hope Monday, but if it lasts longer than that I’ll—” He lets out a long sigh, closes his eyes for a second. “I’ll pay for anything you need and I’ll— I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Sure,” you yawn. “You should get going then.”

He stays there though, not moving, and cold air blows in from the corridor, prompting you to wrap yourself tighter in your cardigan.

“Is this really okay with you?”

You stare at him for a second. Your usual inhibitions around handsome men seem to be considerably dampened by the fact that you’re so fucking tired and want nothing more than going back to bed.

“You should go,” you repeat, trying your best to keep your voice gentle. “I’ll take good care of them, so you shouldn’t worry about that. Just be careful on the way there, okay?”

It’s his turn to stare. He seems to be expecting you to pull the rug from under his feet, to throw him out with the cats. Finally, he exhales slowly, looking down at the floor. When he meets your eyes again, your heart almost bursts.

“Thank you,” he says, sincerely.

And then he's out the door, running towards the stairs, and out of your eyesight in just a second. By your feet, Dori lets out a sad meow, and you nod.

“Yeah. I hope you guys don’t mind being alone, because I’m going back to bed.”

Second dancer goes by Hyunjin. He’s taller and leaner than the last one, muscles less impressive, but well-defined and bulging at his every movement. His long black hair are tied into a ponytail, but two loose strands fall on either side of his face. Based on what you’ve heard, the effect is completely deliberate — but it’s working.

“Oh my God he’s pretty,” Daeun comments, and you think she would have spat out her drink if she hadn’t finished it right after Chris’ set.

“We should come here more often,” Nari says.

You still don’t open your mouth.

Minho isn’t back by Monday. You muster up the courage to shoot him a quick text, telling him you hope everything’s okay, and letting him know the cats are doing fine. You don’t ask anything, not because you don’t want to know, but because you don’t want to seem rude or unpleasant. His response, on the other hand, is curt and monosyllabic, and they remain that way for the next couple of days, until you find him waiting in front of your door again on Thursday.

He gets up quicker than the last time, giving you a nod as a greeting, but he avoids meeting your eyes.

“My mom got back from the hospital yesterday,” he lets you know, “so I helped her with getting settled.”

There’s a silence during which you try to figure out what to answer — I’m sorry, That’s good news, It must have been hard for you — and he breaks it after only a couple of seconds.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just— drop that on you.”

He’s fidgeting. Uncomfortable. That’s not an attitude you’re used to people having in front of you, but it’s one you empathize with a lot, so you try your best to find a reply.

“It wasn’t an issue at all,” you say, pushing your door open and gesturing for him to follow. “I’m just afraid your cats were bored when I was away at work, you know?”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “Again.”

“No problem,” you manage to smile. “I’ll help you get everything back to your place, okay?”

He opens his mouth to protest, then deflates.

“That’d be nice,” he just says.

It takes a little while to gather everything — mostly to gather the cats —, and then you’re stepping into the elevator.

“Doongie’s really taken to you,” Minho comments. He sounds impressed, a little fond, and when you glance at him, you see that he’s smiling. Looking at the cat, sure, and yet you find something about this moment that is— You’re not entirely sure. Fragile, you think. Delicate. Like he’s letting you see a part of himself that isn’t often seen by strangers.

Because, at the end of the day, that’s all you are. A stranger he’d run into once before, and who he didn’t seem to have much interest in knowing, if the way he talked to you and pointedly didn’t look at you was anything to go by.

You can practically feel yourself shrinking as you stand next to him in silence in the small space of the elevator. You feel stupid. Stupid for being hopeful, stupid for thinking about him as much as you did in the past week, stupid for engaging in brief daydreams, even if you shot them down quickly, fearing exactly what was happening right now. You also feel stupid for all of the emotions that are overwhelming you, when you could just stop overthinking, stop assuming how people feel about you, and just try to— just try to live a little.

You press your lips together as you walk out on the last floor, warming up your face to prepare yourself for smiling and speaking. But, just as you’re about to ask him which door is his, Minho gestures towards the stairs.

“It’s that way,” he says. He doesn't look at you as he walks over, but he turns around, holding the door open, inviting you to follow with a movement of the head. You hesitate just a second, both because he took you by surprise and because you think there’s something defensive, guarded, in his expression. Then it clicks.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had the rooftop apartment,” you say, rushing so he doesn’t have to wait for you.

“It's cheap,” he replies, climbing the stairs two at a time. Again, there’s something tense in his tone. You think. You could be mistaken. You’ve been known to get that kind of things wrong in conversations before.

Rushing after him, you find yourself glancing around curiously when you step foot on the roof. There isn’t much there, actually. You notice a few chairs and a wooden table, folded against the wall of the small building, and an empty clothes line put up a little further away. The apartment itself looks small from the outside, and you suspect it wouldn’t be much better if you walked in. The brick walls look solid — you’ve seen shabbier — but the black roof seems like it would be terrible for the summer heat.

“So do you keep the cats inside?” you ask.

“I keep Doongie inside,” Minho mumbles. “The others are smart enough not to try to get down from there. He’s not. Here, if you’ll just—”

He’s set down the cats and the bags he was holding and extends his arms. You almost protest that you can do it yourself, before catching on to the fact that he might not want you to get inside his house. So you hand Doongie over as the cat protests meekly, and stand awkwardly while Minho rushes him inside.

“Okay, all good.”

“He hasn’t found a way to escape yet?” you ask.

Minho chuckles briefly at your question, eyes creasing. You think it might be the first time you’ve seen him smile at you. The sight feels mesmerizing, but it fades all too soon as he clears his throat and brushes his jeans with the palm of his hands.

“So, uh, how much do I owe you?”

You blink, and then an unpleasant cold spreads through your chest.

“What— Oh, do you mean for the cats? Nothing, that’s— I was happy to help. Really.”

You’re not sure why the question is this upsetting to you. You just hope he was only saying it to be polite and that he’ll drop the subject now. But instead, he shakes his head, already ruffling through his pockets for what you assume to be his wallet.

“No, I can’t let you do that. I looked for an average online and—”

But you’ve tuned him out, realizing what the problem is.

The problem is that it makes everything so— transactional. Makes it look like you were doing it because you were interested instead of just because you were— well. Nice. It makes you wonder about what image Minho has of you, and you don’t think you like that image very much, that it’s how you want him to see you. You fold your arms, briefly squeezing them in your hands. The gesture brings you some shallow comfort, and it’s enough for now.

It also feels like the final indication that he isn’t interested in you in any way shape or form, wanting to just settle a debt and move on.

“No,” you say, raising your hands, “seriously, don’t, it’s— I had a lot of fun with these little guys. I’d even be happy to do it again.”

Finally, he glances up at you.

“Really?”

You’re quick to nod, making a conscious effort not to avert your eyes when you meet his.

“Really.”

The soft smile reappears, and for a second, everything else vanishes. All the anxiety, all of the fears, all of the thoughts that you are more than aware are irrational and yet can never shake off. He finally looks relaxed, with even a hint of happiness, you think.

Until he glances down at his phone and curses.

“Shit. I have to get ready for work.” And just like that, the tension is back. “I’m a bartender,” he adds.

“Oh, alright, I guess I’ll leave you to it then and I’ll— I’ll see you around?”

You pray that you don’t sound too hopeful or too desperate, but Minho doesn’t seem to notice as he hums in response.

“Sure. And I’ll find a way to repay you.” When you open your mouth to protest, again, a corner of his lips lifts in an almost playful smirk. “No money. But I owe you.”

You can’t help but smile. A second later, he’s disappeared inside the house, and you make your way back down the stairs.

All things considered, you think this went well.

“If things go like this the whole night I might not survive this, guys,” Daeun sighs dreamily, and you laugh out loud, though it’s drowned in the music.

“Not without alcohol, anyways,” Nari echoes. “Looks like most of the glasses are empty… Who’s willing to sacrifice themselves?”

“I’ll go,” you say, maybe just a beat too quick.

“You sure you don’t mind?” Nari frowns, and you know that, as often, she’s worried you’re letting yourself be used. “You’re going to miss the show. Someone else can go.”

You shake your head.

“It’s fine.”

She hesitates a second longer, before her attention is caught by the next performer — Spear B, shorter than Hyunjin, but who you know to be exactly her type, from the impressive width of his shoulders to his strong, large thighs. You grin, getting up and starting to walk towards the bar. Normally, the thought of talking to someone would be enough to send anxiety down your spine, but this time, as your eyes find the person you’re looking for, it’s a whole different kind of emotion that bubbles in your chest.

It starts with food. One time, Minho rushes towards the elevator, which you hold open for him, surprised to see him there. You press the additional button to the last floor while he catches his breath.

“Not taking the stairs today?” you ask, because you’re not very good at small talk and you don’t know what else to say.

Instead of answering, he pulls a plastic container out of his bag and hands it over to you.

“Cookies,” you say, not sure you understand.

“I got the recipe from a friend. So if they’re bad it’s his fault.”

You chuckle, but still shake your head.

“I don’t— Is that for me?”

“I mean you can share them if you want to. But yes.”

You’re still looking at the box, and you don’t notice him shifting his weight from one foot onto the other as he watches carefully for your reaction.

“That’s so nice, thank you!”

You catch the grin that spreads on his face, even though he ducks his head almost immediately, setting his gaze on the ground. It takes you a second before you figure out whether or not you want to add something. Finally, you manage a tiny sliver of a voice.

“You know, I told you you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupts you, voice light. “I just want to.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly at that. This feels— fine. Good, even. It feels like a normal interaction, something you don’t get that much of unless you’re with close friends.

“In that case, thank you again,” you say, stepping out of the elevator.

He nods, slightly bowing his head, and you smile at him as the doors close.

After that, Minho keeps bringing you small offerings of food. You run into him one morning and he offers you gimbap. Another time, he shoves a box of brownies in your hands while he’s rushing out of the building — “If you didn’t like the cookies, I wouldn’t eat that, it’s the same friend’s recipe”, he says, and before you can tell him again how good the cookies were, he’s jumped on his motorcycle. Then there’s the tteokbokki that he brings you, still warm, and that’s when you find the courage to invite him in, so that he can eat with you.

He hesitates just long enough for you to feel ridiculous for even asking. But then he nods.

The meal is quiet. The two of you sit in silence, save for a few attempts at starting a conversation on your part, which he doesn’t seem responsive to, and a number of questions about the quality of the food, coming from him. Though he spends most of the time looking down at his plate, his eyes regularly follow your movements, without him lifting his head.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asks for the third time once the plate is empty.

“It was delicious,” you answer, again, “but it feels like I’m constantly thanking you for food these days…”

“That’s just because I’m preparing you for taking care of the cats again,” he says.

You look up in surprise, both because you weren’t expecting him to be this blunt and because you didn’t think that would happen again anytime soon. His lips are a straight line, though your eyes catch, once more, on the philtrum; and his eyes are empty, an expression he seems very skilled at maintaining.

Finally, just a second after you’ve decided that this has gone on too long to be a joke, he grins and his eyes crease.

“I’m not doing that. I do find it funny to see how much you hesitate before you accept something because you think it’s about the cats though.”

You feel your cheeks heating up, though it’s not quite in embarrassment.

“I just don’t want you to feel like—”

“I know, I get it.” A shrug. “I don’t want you to feel like I was freeloading off of you. I always pay my debts.”

“I don’t consider it a debt,” you mumble.

It’s interesting how these few sentences feel like they give you a completely new understanding of who Minho is as a person. Even though you’ve seen him around quite a bit recently, even though he’s been sitting across from you for the past half an hour, this might be the moment when you stop thinking that the two of you are little more than strangers to one another.

For a little while, there’s just comfortable silence between the two of you. Minho’s closed his eyes, shoulders low, head slightly lulled backwards. It strikes you then how exhausted he looks, and you want to ask how his job has been lately, if you haven’t been keeping him for too long, when he opens them again, shaking his head to get rid of the sleepiness.

“I’m having a few friends over next Thursday. Just getting drinks and maybe grilling some meat. You should join.” When you bite your lower lip, debating over it, he adds “I know it’s a weekday, but I promise I’ll get you home by midnight. We’ll be good.”

There’s something about the way he says that, about his grin that has you feeling flush once more.

“I— I’ll, uh, I’ll see if I can make it,” you squeak.

You think you see a hint of disappointment at the non-committal answer, but Minho nods anyway, then starts to stand up.

“It would be nice if you did,” he just says. “If you don’t come, I’ll bring you some meat.”

You stop yourself just before saying ‘You don’t have to’.

“If I’m not too taken by work, I’ll try to come,” you promise, which appears to satisfy him a bit more.

It’s only after he’s gone that you allow yourself to take a deep breath, one hand coming to press against your heart. You’re bad at this whole thing, terrible really, and you’re so terrified of the way rejection makes you feel that you’d rather never think that anyone is interested in you but this— This felt like what you think flirting would be, right? Right?

If it was, you’d say it was kind of nice.

You think you could get used to that.

Your heart’s beating loudly in your chest as you walk over to the bar, almost in sync with the fast-paced music that’s playing in the club. You notice Minho’s eyes landing on you, and you manage to muster a smile, resisting the urge to glance away when you’re caught looking. It’s not easy to fight it, not when you’re feeling this ridiculously nervous. It’s hard to pinpoint why, exactly. There are so many thoughts, so many taunts floating inside your brain, spat out at you by the part of you that’s terrified of rejections. Any of them, taken separately, feel irrational, stupid, and even embarrassing. Together, though, they form an impenetrable, terrifying cloud that you never seem to be able to get rid of.

What if he’s not interested in you? What if he thinks you’re pathetic for thinking he could be into you? What if everyone thinks you’re going for someone who’s out of your league? What if you misread everything? What if he finds out that no one’s ever been interested in you before and thinks it has to mean that there’s something wrong with you?

“Having fun?” Minho asks you when you reach the bar, words coming so easily from him when you were still trying to figure out what to say.

“Sure,” you say. “Just… feels a bit weird. You know, because I’ve met them.”

He hums at that, though you think you see a discreet grin forming on his lips.

“Can I get you something?”

Right. Drinks.

“Oh, yeah, uh, three Margaritas, one Martini, and one Virgin Mojito.”

“Not drinking to get through this?” he asks, grin more obvious this time.

“I wish,” you mumble, even if you haven’t had a drop of alcohol since the one time you got absolutely plastered in college. “But no. I guess I’ll have to sit through this sober.”

Whoops echo in the room as Spear B — well, Changbin — starts to thrust his hips aggressively on stage. It’s kind of hot, probably, but God, this just isn’t your scene.

“My shift ends in half an hour,” Minho comments as he starts making the drinks, and you turn your head back towards him, blinking. “I could take you home.”

For half a second, you almost reply ‘thanks, but my friends will never let me go’, before you stop to think about how this might be an invitation. Maybe. You’re not actually sure. Even when Minho glances up at you, clearly expecting an answer, you just— can’t fucking figure it out. He could very well just be offering you a ride home.

Which, to be fair, you wouldn’t be opposed to.

“That would be nice,” you say, a genuine, easy smile forming on your lips this time.

There’s one silent, perfect moment when your eyes meet his, creased by his smile, and you think of how different he looks from when you first saw him, how you’d never expected to see that side of him, and how wrong you’d been about it all. And it makes you just a little more willing to take a risk.

“Come on,” he says, “I’ll bring the drinks for you guys.”

He follows you over, expertly putting down the tray that you feel you would have had trouble balancing even while standing still. His hand brushes over the small of your back when he stands back up, and you notice Nari’s eyebrows lifting up, even as she’s looking at you only from the corner of her eye. You hope he doesn’t notice you almost shivering at the contact. There’s no rational explanation for the way you feel heat radiating from the spot he’s barely even touching.

“I’ll meet you outside in thirty minutes?”

There’s a hint of a question in his tone, an uncertainty in his eyes. It all clears away when you nod.

“Perfect.”

When he’s gone, everyone turns to look at you. You’re not one for the attention, but this time, it makes you giggle like a schoolgirl.

“He’s taking me home,” you say quietly.

“Holy shit he’s hot,” Nari hisses. “If it doesn’t work with him, you should give me— Hey!”

Daeun gives you a thumbs up with a nod of approval. You’re pretty sure she just kicked Nari under the table, and you hope she doesn’t see the way your smile stiffens. The thought of Nari and Minho is— unpleasant. You have no right to be jealous, yet the feeling burrows in your stomach, only strengthened by the certainty that, if given the choice, Minho would probably pick her.

After all, you’re no one’s first choice.

You force yourself to take a deep breath. Fuck it. You don’t know if you’re the person he would pick if he could get anyone out there, but tonight, you are his choice. And that’s good enough for you.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, examining the way you’re dressed, your make-up, your hair, anything that you could pick apart. You’re definitely overthinking a simple evening with Minho’s friends, you’ve definitely spent far too long figuring out what to wear in order to be neither overdressed nor undressed, and you’re so close from deciding not to go, just so you won’t have to keep thinking about it.

Ultimately, though, you step in the elevator, holding the bottle of wine you’d bought earlier for the occasion. You suppose beer would have been more appropriate, but then again, other people probably have that covered and— God, sometimes you wish you could just get your brain to shut the fuck up.

You make your way up to Minho’s rooftop apartment gingerly, having been unable to find the light switch. You feel relieved when you hear that there’s already noise up there — both because you’re not the first to show up and because it indicates that you didn’t mess up either the time or the date, probably.

Your eyes immediately search for Minho — though your brain still registers the fact that the men that are on the rooftop are some of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen, what the fuck — and you’ve barely just found him, busy grilling some meat, when someone steps in front of you.

“You must be the downstairs neighbor,” he says, dimples forming as he smiles warmly. “I’m Chan, I work with Minho.”

“Hi,” you say, a little too high. “It’s nice to meet you, uh, have you been here for long? I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” he handwaves your concerns. “We usually get together on Thursdays because Fridays tend to be big nights for us, so we kinda just show up. Minho said he wasn’t sure you’d be there tonight, he said you were busy with work or something?”

“Right, yeah, I—”

“Ah, you made it!” Minho materializes next to you, startling you. “And you’ve met Chan,” he adds, tone all sweet and sugary, which seems to be wildly entertaining to Chan.

“I was just saying hi,” he says, grin too wide for the occasion, though you can’t exactly figure out what’s going on here.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” Minho nods as one of his arms somehow finds itself around your shoulders. The contact makes you freeze, though you don’t find it invasive, just— unexpected. His arm is light and you could easily shake it off. But you choose not to, and after a couple of seconds, his fingers close around your arm. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone!”

“It was nice meeting you Chan,” you pipe as you walk away, much to his delight.

After that come a number of introductions. Minho introduces you to the person he bartends with, and then a number of people who are just vaguely described as coworkers. Hyunjin, tall and so pretty you almost ask if that’s a requirement for this friend group — would have if you’d been a little more comfortable in social settings —, Felix, with his freckles and his deep voice, Jisung, who Minho takes you away from after you’ve burst out laughing at his jokes twice, and Changbin, who offers to let you feel his biceps surprisingly quickly into the conversation. Finally, Minho leaves you with Seungmin — ‘the accountant’ — to get back to cooking, though not without throwing him a threatening look.

Everyone seems to have broken into little groups, some trying to be helpful, like Felix and Chan, and others… less so.

“So Minho said you kept his cats?” Seungmin asks. He’s soft-spoken, with kind eyes, and you wonder if Minho left you with him because he figured he was a better introduction to the group for you than some of the more energetic people.

It’s at least nice to think that he would have that kind of concerns.

“I did! You, uh, you’ve met them?”

He grimaces.

“Once. I had to get stitches.”

“Oh God. Let me guess. Doongie.” The dramatic sigh he heaves out makes you chuckle. “He got better after a couple of days,” you explain. “Even wanted to cuddle towards the end.”

“He still hates Hyunjin,” he comments. “Barely tolerates Felix. Would probably maul Chan if he wasn’t scared of how loud he is. I’m impressed he didn’t murder you in your sleep.” There’s a twinkle in his eye when he says that. “I’m sure Minho was impressed too.”

You open your mouth to protest, before stopping yourself. A couple of weeks ago, you would have said that there was no way Minho was impressed, or even really grateful, but your perspective’s changed since then. Sure, he doesn’t show his emotions much, but then again, neither do you. You glance in his direction. He’s focused on flipping the meat, visibly ignoring Changbin’s comments. As always, you’re struck by how handsome he is, and that air of concentration in particular does something to you. But then you see him feeding a piece of meat to Jisung after blowing on it.

Caring. He’s incredibly caring. You just— need to stick around a little to find out about it.

“He didn’t act like it,” you tell Seungmin. “I kind of thought he just didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I know the feeling. But hey, he stayed in the emergency room with me for five hours after his cat crippled me, so…”

Minho glances up when you laugh, and you notice him gesturing you over to try the meat as well.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Jisung warns you, pouting, when you get closer.

Minho blows on the meat again, slowly brings it to your lips, with one hand underneath in case it falls.

“Good?” he asks.

It shouldn’t make you feel like this to be the sole object of his attention.

“So good,” you reply after chewing it down quickly.

Minho gives a satisfied nod, and you simply cannot tear your eyes away from him as he finally tries the meat himself and a delighted expression forms on his face.

“It’s ready!” he shouts.

It’s not long before everyone has found a place, kneeling or sitting cross-legged on the floor around the table you assume Minho got out of the apartment for the occasion. Minho’s sitting on your right, with Chan on your left. Happy chatter is rising around the table, filling the night, all the people here clearly enjoying each other’s presence. You enjoy the atmosphere it gives, but it's also not easy to forget that you're an outsider here, still not quite sure why you’re here at all.

Though the way Minho casually puts meat on top of your rice, inviting you to eat it with a discreet nod might give you a small idea.

Chan’s the one who talks to you first, though. He makes small talk look so easy, you can’t help but get jealous. You’ve had to work on yours so much, and even then, you still have to stick to your script, while his seems effortless. He’s nice, bright, warm, and you just know you would have had a crush on him if you’d met in high school.

“So, what do you guys do exactly? Seungmin’s the accountant, but you…”

For the first time in the night, he seems to get a little uncomfortable, letting out an awkward laugh and rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Ah, we’re, uh, dancers. At the club where Minho works.” When you don’t seem to get it, he sighs and explains, watching your reaction carefully. “Well, stripping is— frowned upon, basically, but it’s— that kind of thing.”

“Oh,” you say, eyes going wide, “oh, I didn’t— I didn’t even know Minho worked at a club, but that’s, uh, are you guys… dancers first or—?”

“Trained dancers, yeah,” he supplies easily. “It's really well paid and, well… There’s usually a captive audience. So that’s nice.” Even as he says that, you can see the tip of his ears going red. “But, so, Minho didn’t tell you much about what he does?”

It’s such an obvious attempt to change the subject of conversation that even you can tell that’s what’s happening.

“He doesn’t… tell me much. In general.”

“Hm,” Chan frowns sympathetically, “he’s kind of like that in the beginning but, y’know, he’s a really nice person underneath it all.”

“I know,” you reply.

“I think it’s time for me to get going,” you tell your friends after a while. It looks like you’ll miss seeing Jisung dancing, but you don’t think that will upset him.

Nari shoots you the brightest grin.

“Yeah, get that dick,” she says, making you choke on the drink you were trying to finish before leaving. She bursts out laughing at the sight before patting your arm. “You have fun, alright? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” A beat. “Don’t do most things I would do either.”

“I won’t,” you say, getting up and grabbing your purse.

“No seriously, enjoy yourself, okay? You deserve it.”

She’s looking up at you with wide, worried eyes, and though you know it’s the alcohol that makes her emotional, she looks particularly sweet in that moment and you can’t help but smile at her.

“Thanks, Nari. I’ll do my best.”

“If he does anything you don’t like I’ll find him and I’ll cut his dick off,” Daeun adds casually.

You walk off laughing. You noticed Minho leaving his spot behind the bar a few minutes ago, though not without looking in your direction. Despite Daeun’s final warning, there are only butterflies in your stomach as you exit the bar.

“Do you have to go back?” Minho asks when, later in the night, when everyone’s done eating, you start to get up.

“Oh, yeah, I have work in the morning, it’s probably better if I don’t stick around too long,” you answer, a half-truth that doesn’t take into account the fact that all of this social interaction has completely exhausted you.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says, following suit.

“You don’t— You don’t have to, I— It’s just a few flight of stairs.”

There’s a smile forming on your face, and you can’t quite figure out whether it’s because it’s an amusing thought that he’d even offer, or because he did offer. He shakes his head.

“Ah, the switch doesn’t work for the last floor anymore and I haven’t been able to get anyone to look into it. I’m used to it, so.”

“Sure. Thank you,” you add, quietly, after a few seconds.

He just nods, a little woodenly — and then he very gently places his hand on your waist as you take your first few steps in the dark.

As you make your way down in the dark, you become all too aware of the wooden scent of his presence radiating next to you, of the wooden scent of his body wash.

“Careful there,” he warns, “one of the steps is missing a chunk and you could slip.” His voice is low, and it feels like it echoes through the stairwell and through your body.

“Alright,” you whisper back, though you couldn’t say why. Hesitantly, you reach to grab onto his shoulder. You expect to feel him tensing up, but he doesn’t. If anything, his hold on your waist gets a little firmer.

“Afraid of the dark?” he asks.

“Not really, but I am afraid of tripping and falling.”

A chuckle comes from him.

“I won’t let you,” he promises.

Unfortunately, there’s only twenty steps before your hand finds the door to the floor underneath.

“Looks like that’s me,” you say, as you open it.

“I could always take the elevator down to your floor with you,” he offers. He’s leaning towards you a little, and you can barely hear him over the sound of your heart.

You want to kiss him, you realize, eyes travelling down to his lips despite your better judgment.

You also know you would never dare to.

“Goodnight, Minho,” you say, meeting his eyes again. You find that he’s frozen in spot, eyes looking darker than usual, devouring you. Your stomach jumps.

He leans forward.

You hear him, vaguely, echo “yeah, goodnight,” before his eyes close and his lips press against yours. You’re standing completely still, hands gripping your purse tightly. His lips are soft. Gentle.

Finally, you allow your eyes to flutter shut as well, and you let yourself lean into the kiss.

You’ve thought a lot about getting kissed, about what it would feel like. ‘It’s wet,’ one of your high school friends had told you with a shrug, eliciting laughter from other girls.

That’s not the word you would use to describe that kiss.

You would think of the way Minho’s lips seem to mold against yours, about the soft noise that comes from him kissing you again, about the way he tilts his head and how his nose brushes against your cheek, about how soft he is, about the hand that grabs your shoulder like a lifeline, about how he steps forward hesitantly, still kissing you, about how the skin at the back of his neck feels when you wrap an arm around him, unsure, and gingerly caress it, from the tip of your fingers. You would think about the little groan that comes from him when you do, about how he squeezes your arm a little too hard then lets go, then steps closer again, even though there’s not much space left between the two of you. You would think about the moment when you open your eyes, briefly, and see how lost in the kiss he looks. You would think about the heat that pools in your stomach, about the way your lips part and about how his tongue brushes against yours, and about how your whole world seems to be contained in this one moment, in the space where your bodies touch each other. You would think about how out of breath you find yourself being when he steps away, about how his eyes slowly open, about the grin on his face, like the cat that ate the cream.

“Goodnight,” he says again, a corner of his lips higher than the other. His breathing is heavy too.

“Goodnight,” you squeak. “I’ll— see you around?”

“I sure hope so,” he replies, looking immensely satisfied when you get flustered.

For once, you cannot say that you’re particularly happy when you find yourself alone in your apartment.

Minho comes out just a few minutes after you, hand aggressively running through his hair as he tries to get them back to their usual state.

“It looks good,” you comment when he gets to your level. You’re unable to raise your voice much, too nervous to do that, too worried you’re reading wrong into this situation, too scared you’ll embarrass yourself.

“That’s not gonna last,” he says gloomily, then smiles when he notices the way your eyebrows knit. “Helmet’s probably going to destroy that. You’ve ever been on a motorbike before?”

“Yeah, my brother has one,” you nod, maybe a little too eager to prove yourself. You don’t mention the fact that the last time he took you for a ride was when you were in high school and that the model he had was cheap and, uh, skinny-looking, compared to the monster Minho’s flaunting.

Still, you bravely take the helmet he hands you, and at least try your best not to show any hesitation when you climb after him.

“Hold tight,” he says over his shoulder once you’re there, and you do. You just take one quick breath before wrapping your arms around his waist, trying your best to position your head against his shoulder so the helmet doesn’t get in the way too much. You feel his broad back under the leather jacket he’s wearing, his muscular thighs pressed against yours. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart thunders against him. The thought would usually make you feel ashamed, because the idea of someone knowing how you feel about them is terrifying to you. Tonight, though, you’ve decided to be daring.

The city flashes by you as Minho drives. Cars, people, so many lives stacked one on top of the other, and the two of you in the middle of it all.

You’re feeling shaky on your legs when he stops, tripping over your feet as you try to get off. His hand immediately shoots out, wrapping around you to help stabilizing you.

“You okay?” he asks, voice softer like anytime he’s worried. His eyes seem half-closed, like cats’ eyes when they’re with someone they like. His hair, it’s true, have seen better days, but you think it’s cute.

You want to kiss him.

Slowly, not closing your eyes in case you miss his reaction, miss seing him pulling away or looking displeased, you lean in.

He closes his eyes first.

The kiss is soft. One of his hand comes up to cup your face, fingers trace your jaw, his tongue is warm, and even in the cool night, you feel electrified.

There aren’t many words exchanged when he guides you into the building, just a brief question about whether you wish to go to your place or his — you choose his. He kisses you again in the elevator, harder this time, pressing you against a wall. Your head’s spinning with the way his body feels against you, and you let out a whimper when he moves his thigh between your legs. It takes everything in you not to roll your hips against him, and from the way you feel him smirk against your lips, you’d bet he knows that.

“Camera,” you whisper into him, glancing up at the little device on the corner.

Minho looks over his shoulder and clicks his tongue in annoyance. Next thing you know, he has one arm on the wall by your face, effectively caging you against it, but also shielding you from it.

“Better?”

The giggle that escapes you barely feels like you, but to be fair, everything that’s happening to you right now doesn’t feel like you, because it’s all so new. The heat that runs through your veins when Minho presses open-mouth kisses to your jaw, forcing out tiny, quiet gasps that fill the air, would almost be enough to make you forget the fact that you don’t really know what you're doing. You think he can tell, from the way your hands fumble, unsure whether to grab onto his shoulders, his jacket, to run over his body, to wrap around his neck to play with his hair.

“Wait,” you manage to say, “wait, I—”

In a second, the heat's gone, concerned expression staring at you instead.

“Everything alright?”

You don't know for sure why you don't tell him then. Maybe it’s because you’re a little bit ashamed, against your better judgment, of your total absence of experience. You don’t want to be, you know you have no reason to, but you just— you don’t want him to think differently of you, don’t want to interrupt the moment. You also don’t want him to think you’re seeing this as more than it is. So, instead of that, you opt for “I just— I don’t have a lot of experience. I’m— I don’t usually do…” You almost gesture at the two of you, but close your hand at the last second. “…this.”

It’s not a lie. It’s also not quite the truth.

“Oh,” Minho says. “It’s fine. We can take it slow, if you’d like?”

There’s that hunger in his eyes again that makes you melt, that makes you feel wanted. You suspect that you’re looking at him exactly the same way.

“I’d like that,” you answer.

It’s only then that he bridges the distance he left between the two of you, for just one more kiss before the elevator doors open.

He holds on to your hand tightly as he guides you up the stairs, still in the dark, only letting go to unlock his door. He’s kissing you again when he walks into the room, backwards, both fever and restraint in the way his fingers grip your waist with bruising force. You put your arm around his neck, bringing your body close to his, and you feel him groan into you when your chest presses against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “the bed’s right there, just—”

It’s Doongie’s indignant protest that interrupts you.

“Shit!”

Finally, Minho turns on a light, and you’re greeted with three pairs of accusatory eyes.

“Give me a minute, I’ll—”

The rest of his sentence is lost as he tries — and fails — to shoo them into what you assume is the bathroom.

You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him try to clear the room for the two of you. The layout’s simple, with the kitchen by the entrance, and the small living room with a couch as the central piece, and the table you’d all dined on a few weeks ago propped against the wall. On the right, there’s a minuscule bathroom, and on the left, the direction Minho was pulling you in, there’s the bedroom, which pretty much only consists of a king size bed. A king size bed on which Doongie’s currently laying, tail swooshing around with annoyance.

Minho shoos him away, still trying to get the cats in the bathroom, and you sit down on the bed, grinning. Even if you’ve been interrupted, the sight of all of that happening makes you feel— comfortable. Sure, it leaves you with a little too much space to think about what you’re supposed to do now — should you take off you clothes? Should you take some kind of alluring pose? Are you capable of taking an alluring pose? —, but it also reminds you of how much you like Minho, instead of just how much you want him.

“Done,” he sighs after a few seconds, sliding the bathroom door close.

Before stopping right where he stands, staring at you, eyes wide and bulging a little. Unable to come to a clear decision, you’ve only slid the straps from your dress down on your arms, allowing it to fall down enough to reveal your bra and the skin of the upper part of your stomach. You’re also watching him carefully, though the appreciative way he takes in your body makes you feel a little more comfortable.

“Join me?” you ask, your attempt to sound confident and sexy coming out more squeaky than you would have liked.

He nods, still staring, and you see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. Finally, he starts walking towards you. You bite the inside of your cheek as he gets closer, leaning back on the bed, unsure whether your heart is beating this fast from nervousness or from anticipation, unsure whether you’re terrified or excited. Either way, you’ve decided that this is your night. Getting to spend this moment to someone who you’re genuinely attracted to, who you trust, and who seems to want you as well, that might be as good as you’re gonna get. You don’t want to let anything get in the way of that.

Still, your lips part and your breath quickens when he slowly lowers himself to your level, placing one of his knees next to you on the bed while his hand cups your face. His mouth is warm against yours, his movements slower than before, and you’re not sure why, but the wet sounds that echo in the room make heat pool between your legs. You’re the one bringing more urgency into it when you pull him closer, until he’s laying on top of you, one of his hands roughly groping your thigh, your ass, before Minho seems to remember he needs to take it slow.

The hand makes its way under your dress, and you shiver. Being touched in such places by another person is a completely new feeling for you. You’d feared it would be invasive, but you find that it’s not, though perhaps that has to do with Minho himself, with how badly you wanted this. His fingers trail pure heat over your skin, body arching in an attempt to follow his caresses. When they hook your panties, starting to pull them down, you whimper ever so slightly against his mouth.

“Everything okay?” he asks. You take some satisfaction in finding that his breathing is ragged. From this close distance, you can tell his pupil apart from his dark eyes, and you discover that it’s dilated. His cheeks and ears have reddened, too, and now that your entire brain isn’t focused on the sensations his touch brings to you, you think you can feel him hard against your thigh.

“All good,” you say, more out of breath than he is. “All… all very good.” You don’t know what to add to that, if you’re supposed to add something.

“Tell me if there’s a problem,” he breathes, lips just brushing against yours this time. His voice is soft. The moment feels deeply intimate, and yet there’s a nagging fear in your stomach. You’d hate to see more in this than actually is present, hate to get your hopes up. Humiliation is easily what you’re most scared of right now.

“I will,” you promise.

There’s something surprisingly gentle, coming from him, in the way he starts to leave kisses down your jaw, then your neck. There’s one spot he lingers on, one spot that makes you squirm and whimper in a way that you find embarrassing, but that he seems delighted with, if the smile you feel against your skin is any indication. He gets rid of your dress just as slowly, before reaching behind you to open your bra.

“Would you— would you mind if we turned off the light?” you ask just as it comes undone. It’s not so much that you’re ashamed of your body or don’t want him to see it, but the harsh, white light just feels like it casts an unflattering glow on what is happening here. Makes everything feel cold and ugly, and while you think the light probably makes everything honest as well, just for tonight, you’d like to let yourself believe something else.

Minho just has to reach out to turn it off, with how small the room is, and that prompts a brief chuckle, shared between the two of you. The moonlight comes in through the windows, and it’s more than enough to tell what’s happening, but everything’s silhouetted, allowing you to fill in the gaps and letting fantasy seep into the moment.

With a regain of confidence, you sit back up, starting to unbutton Minho’s shirt. Your lips ghost against his, pulling away when he leans forward to kiss you back, and you just have the time to hear his laugh before you allow the kiss and it disappears in the moment. The shirt is soon discarded, allowing you to feel his skin against yours. His body feels harder than yours, taut muscles under your fingers, but you love the way he groans against your mouth when you brush against his nipples. If you were surer of yourself, you feel that that’s something you’d love to explore. Right now, though, you’re happy to let him take control again.

He kisses down your body, pressing kisses between your breasts. One of his hands flicks against your nipple, and it sends an electric shock through you. He doesn’t linger there though, intent on making his way further down. His kisses remain soft, never too insistent, and his hands on either side of your body help you remain grounded, even as you fist the sheets, trying not to squirm too much. Soon, he’s kneeling between your legs, not giving you any chance to feel the friction you’re so desperate for right now.

“Still okay?” he asks, and it’s very hard for you to keep the annoyance out of your voice when you reply that yes, you’re fine, and could he please just do something now.

There’s another chuckle, and then he moves aside to slide your drenched panties down your legs. Your cheeks are burning when you feel his breath between your legs. He starts by kissing the inside of your thigh, and you press your lips tightly together, just waiting for what’s to come next. There’s nothing you can do to contain the loud moan that escapes you when, finally, Minho’s mouth closes around your clitoris. The pleasure is like nothing you’ve ever felt with your hand or toys, and you can’t help the way your legs close around him.

It doesn’t seem to faze him, though, one hand grabbing your thigh for support while he keeps his head down. As you’re still trying to gather yourself in any way, with one hand pressed to your mouth so you don’t become too loud, you feel him push a finger into you. It slides in easily from how wet you are, and you hear yourself mewl when he adds another finger, then a third, slowly spreading you open. It feels nothing like it does when you’re the one doing it. All this time, his mouth is still latched onto your clit, tongue working its magic against it.

It’s not long until you feel the orgasm approaching, rolling onto you faster than it ever has before. You try to hold it at bay, wanting to enjoy the delicious sensations longer, but it’s all so much, too much, and soon you’re coming with a loud cry, thighs spasming around Minho’s head. His fingers move rhythmically into you, allowing you to ride the wave a little longer, and eventually you’re back on Earth, panting desperately, feeling drunk though you haven’t had a drop of alcohol.

“Still good?” Minho asks, and you discover a smug grin on his face when he glances up at you.

“Still good,” you reply, not having enough energy to roll your eyes at him, especially not when he is the one who’s just made you feel like that.

His hands don’t leave your hips when he lies down by your side. His thumb traces circles over your skin, and despite the mind-shattering orgasm he’s just given you, it doesn’t take long until you’re burning for him all over again.

Experimentally, you shift your leg against his hard cock, only to be almost immediately rewarded by a hiss and a jerk of his hips to chase the friction.

“Ready for another round?” he asks you. It’s a half-growl, and you can’t help but grin. Knowing that you’re affecting him that much is electrifying.

“Yeah, just… slow,” you say. “I’m— Um—” You stumble on your choice of words. It’s not like you’ve never had anything inside you, you’ve used toys before, but this feels completely different.

“Want to be on top?” Minho asks softly, surprising you once more with how considerate and thoughtful he’s being. “Then you can pick your own rhythm.”

“That’d be— That’d be great, actually,” you say. “Do you— Do you have a condom?”

“Sure, just give me a second. You’re clean, by the way, right?”

You hum in answer as he stretches to get a condom out of his night table. He tears it open with his teeth. You’re pretty sure he’s just showing off, but you do find it kind of hot, so you suppose you can let it slide.

He’s just reaching down to undo his belt when you interrupt him, starting to do it instead. Your hand brushes against the tent in his pants and he lets out a curse through gritted teeth. You pull back to let him shake off the pants, then soon the boxers, and watch as he rolls on the condom expertly. You try not to look too interested, though you are a bit curious about the process.

After that, there are a few awkward seconds needed to get into position, though the tension dissolves in giggles quickly as you straddle him. You roll your hips once against his rock hard cock, pressed against your wet slit. It twitches against you, and Minho hisses.

“Fuck you’re a tease.”

The comment makes you smirk and you lean in to press one more kiss to his lips, nipples brushing against his chest as you do so. Then you push yourself back up, one hand on his chest for support, while his hold on to your hips with a gentle grip.

“Take your time.”

You roll your lips together, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock and he groans, throwing his head back in his pillow. Even under the moonlight, you can see his eyes closing in pleasure, and you can’t help but find it incredibly erotic. It gives you the confidence you need to guide it against your entrance, then slowly start lowering your hips. The stretch causes a moan to rise from your throat, even though you keep your mouth shut.

Then another, as you get Minho deeper inside of you, and finally your mouth falls open and it’s a recital of small, high-pitched whimpers. The whole time, though you’re not aware of it, eyes tightly shut, Minho’s eyes are on you, devouring the sight you’re giving him. The way your chest rises and falls as your breathing quickens, the way you throw your head back, the way you try to suppress your moans at first before giving up.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, and you open your eyes.

You haven’t moved yet, hips just stuttering involuntarily and sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time.

“Y-you think so?” you ask, and a bit of the facade you’ve tried to put on so far falls.

Minho sits up, one hand closing around your thigh while the other comes on the small of your back. He kisses you messily, linking your mouths and tongues while his hips start a slow rhythm under you. You dissolve into him, almost desperately wrapping your arms around his neck, moans immediately swallowed between the two of you.

“So, so fucking hot,” he breathes as his pace starts picking up. “Wanna, ah, wanna lie down again? I’ll take care of it now.”

There’s so much warmth in his voice, so much care that you almost want to protest, want to tell him not to do that when you don’t think this night means that much to him. Yet you’re also grateful for it, grateful for how good he’s making all of this for you, grateful for him making this night unforgettable to you in more ways than one.

He guides you back down, kisses you once more, and then the grip on your hips becomes bruising, and he starts going faster. Vaguely, you get the feeling that he’s holding back, even as small grunts come from him at every thrust. From the way his eyes watch you, it seems he takes just as much pleasure in watching you fall apart apart, as he does from the way your bodies are joined together. You can’t give it much thought, though, too lost in the pleasure, and when he brings one hand down between your legs to rub your clit, you cry out, loosing the ability for any coherent thought on the spot. The orgasm hits without a warning, without the familiar build you’re used to, and your hips move desperately in an attempt to prolong the heavenly feeling just a little bit more.

It’s then that the rhythm picks up once more, thrusts deeper this time, as Minho starts chasing his own high. You think he comes a few seconds after you, based on the loud moan he lets out then, though it could be longer, because your notion of time is not very precise at that point.

Then he collapses, slowly pulling out of you to roll onto his back. He’s panting, and when you glance at him, he shoots you his signature grin.

“Pretty good, huh?”

Of course he’d brag about it.

“Decent,” you hear yourself reply with a smile in return. “Not that bad.”

It makes him laugh, and for a few moments, the two of you just lie there, and it’s good and comfortable and nice and you could just stay there, in his bed, with his hand soft and comforting on your hip, for hours.

But finally, he sits up and stretches his arms.

“I’m gonna wash up,” he says. “D’you want to use the bathroom before going back to your place?”

You blink. And then it hits you. You’ve seen it in movies, you’ve heard your friends talk about it, usually preceded by the sentence ‘you’ll never guess what that fucking asshole told me after it’. Not only is he not letting you stay the night, but he’s basically kicking you out. It’s not— It’s not like you’d been particularly intent on staying, you would probably have booked it after regaining control of your brain — and once your anxiety would have kicked in again — but it makes ice fill your veins.

Right. You shouldn’t get carried away.

Fuck, you should never get carried away.

“Yeah, I’ll just use it quick, if you don’t mind,” you say, gathering your clothes, and you hate how your voice changes, how it becomes softer and higher. You just tell yourself that he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to tell what’s happening, and you cling to that thought with everything you have.

There’s a limp in your step when you get up, but you push through it. The cats escape when you open the door, and, for once, you don’t take the time to greet them, in too much of a hurry to get out, get the fuck out of here. Inside, you throw your dress back on, stuff your bra in your bag, pee, grimace at your ruined panties but ultimately put them on, slip your feet in your shoes, then step out. It probably takes you a minute and a half.

“You can take a shower if you want,” Minho says, but this time the attention makes you want to slap him.

“I’m good,” you say instead of literally anything else, “I’ll just take it at home. It’s not like it’s that far.”

He nods.

“You work early tomorrow, right?”

“I do, so, I, uh, should probably get going.”

You open the door, step out in the fresh air of the night, and there, you find yourself softening a little. You can’t help but think that you’re getting upset in part because you let yourself get too emotional, too involved in this. So you turn back to give him a little smile.

“I, uh, I had a really good time,” you say, tilting your head in the direction of the bedroom.

You half expected him to brag, but instead he looks down, and you guess more than you see the smile that forms on his lips.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Well, uh—” You hesitate. For a second, ‘I’ll see you around’ is on your lips, but you’re too wrapped up in the fear that he’ll get the wrong impression, or worst, that he’ll get the right one and think you want something more with him, too terrified that he’ll hate that idea. “Goodnight,” you say instead.”

“Goodnight.”

Then you close the door and make your way through the roof and down the stairs. You don’t know how you expected to feel, after finally getting to experience something you’ve craved for so long. Different, that’s for sure. But, even though the last note of the night feels so discordant, you still take away Minho’s warmth, the feeling of his lips of your skin, the adoring glow of his eyes when he looked up at you.

And you’re convinced that you’re better off for that.

when he sees me — Waitress

Might be part one of three! But considering how my writing process has been going these days, I can’t promise anything unfortunately.

#lee know x reader #minho x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids #lee know #lee know fanfic #stray kids fanfic #lee know smut

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