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#hey. at least my writing inspo is back.
astrxealis · 5 months
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new year new me i've heard of a date with death since last fucking year due to at least 3 friends but then start in the new year and immediately get obsessed and finish everything way too quickly. happy 2024!
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mysterystarz · 2 months
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kiss me maybe:
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summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss
pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader
word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)
genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours
warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread
a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented
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It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 
Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 
To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 
Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 
And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.
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Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 
Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 
“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 
Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 
“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”
“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 
You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 
Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 
For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 
“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 
“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”
“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 
“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”
“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 
There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 
“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 
“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 
He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 
“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 
Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”
“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 
“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 
You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 
The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 
However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.
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Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 
Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 
The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 
“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 
“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 
“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 
The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 
“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 
The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 
“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 
“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 
With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 
Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 
A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.
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Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 
“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 
Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 
“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  
“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 
The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 
For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 
“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 
“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”
As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 
“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 
“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 
“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 
“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 
“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”
“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”
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You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 
You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 
“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 
You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 
The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 
When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 
“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 
“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 
“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 
For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 
Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 
In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 
“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 
“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 
Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 
A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 
Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 
This sucked ass. 
You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 
Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 
The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 
You could almost call it picturesque. 
You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 
The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 
They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 
“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 
“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 
“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 
“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 
Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 
His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 
The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.
The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 
High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 
You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 
What could be more human than that? 
Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 
“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 
What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?
“What did they do to you?”
“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 
Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 
You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 
Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 
When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 
Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 
A grand gym and an even grander boy. 
You just avoided him after that.
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“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 
To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.
“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 
“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”
“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 
“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 
“Well-“
“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”
“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 
His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 
You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 
“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 
“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 
You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 
“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”
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Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 
Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 
“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”
“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 
“We always love the extra coverage.” 
“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”
“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 
“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 
“Not true.” He huffed. 
“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 
People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 
Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 
“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 
Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 
He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 
Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 
“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”
“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 
As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.
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Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.
You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 
As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 
Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 
You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 
How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 
“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 
And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 
“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 
“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 
“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 
“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 
“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 
“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 
You weren’t sure what to say. 
A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.
“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 
“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 
Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.
For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 
You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  
Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 
Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 
Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 
“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 
You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 
“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 
Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 
You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 
“It’s been here…?” 
Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 
You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 
“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 
“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 
“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 
“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 
“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 
“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 
“Mean. But seriously, why?” 
You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 
“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 
Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 
“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 
“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 
“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 
You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 
“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 
“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 
“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 
With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 
The way he looked at you now was like worship. 
“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 
“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 
Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 
Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 
Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 
You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 
The way he held you was reverent. 
When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 
“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 
You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.
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Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 
Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 
He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 
“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 
“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 
“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 
“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 
“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 
“With my sets, yes.” 
“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 
Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 
Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 
It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 
Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 
The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 
The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 
“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 
“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 
You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.” 
Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 
The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).
The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.
The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 
The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 
“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 
“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 
Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 
Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 
You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 
Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 
Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 
”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 
“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 
”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 
The team went silent. “You have a what?!”
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The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 
“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 
You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”
You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 
“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 
“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 
“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 
Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 
You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 
Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 
She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 
“When?” 
“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 
“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 
“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 
“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 
“Shush.” 
The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 
She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 
You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 
“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 
“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 
“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 
“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 
“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 
He was planning on not headlining the booth?
Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 
Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 
“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 
“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 
Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 
“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.
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When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 
That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 
“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 
You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 
“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 
“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 
“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 
“I have my sources,” you winked. 
Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 
“So you do know.” 
“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 
You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 
“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 
“We don’t have to right now.” 
“Thanks Tooru.” 
“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 
You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 
Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 
You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 
“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 
“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 
You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 
“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 
“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 
You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 
“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 
You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 
Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 
Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.
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When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 
He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 
”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 
Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 
“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  
“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 
Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 
However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 
“Were you guys dating?”
“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”
“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 
You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 
“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 
At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 
“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 
The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 
Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 
You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 
Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 
“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 
“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 
“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 
“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 
“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 
Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 
You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 
“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”
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“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 
“Je suis fâché.” 
“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 
“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 
“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 
“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 
He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 
“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 
He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 
Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 
“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 
Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 
“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 
“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 
Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 
He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 
Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 
He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 
When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 
Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 
“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 
“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”
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You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 
Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 
Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 
Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 
“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 
“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 
“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 
“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 
You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 
“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 
You nodded.
“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 
“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”
“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 
You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 
“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 
Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 
“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 
You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 
You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 
“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.
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As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 
Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 
The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 
He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 
“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 
“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 
Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 
He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 
He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 
The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.
To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 
“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 
Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 
“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 
Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 
that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 
Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 
Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 
The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 
“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 
“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”
“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 
Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 
Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 
Maybe today would be okay after all.
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You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 
Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 
Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  
Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 
You weren’t sure. 
The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 
Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 
“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 
“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”
Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 
He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”
You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.��� 
Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 
You snickered. “Not a chance.” 
Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.
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“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 
“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 
The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 
Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 
“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 
“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 
You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”
Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 
For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 
The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 
You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 
You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 
This was intriguing. 
“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 
“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 
“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 
In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 
“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.
“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 
“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 
“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 
Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 
“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 
“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 
“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 
“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 
The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 
“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 
“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 
“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 
“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 
“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 
“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 
Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 
He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 
When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 
You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 
You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 
You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 
Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 
“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 
This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 
It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 
“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 
“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.
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©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited
if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!
546 notes · View notes
cupidsblonde · 2 months
Text
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in which reader and Choso have been talking online for a while and reader has gotten herself a pretty boy appointment
content includes: size difference, age difference (reader is 22 choso is 36) mating press, back-shots, reverse cowgirl, tit fucking“idk if it will fit” “ill make it fit” big dick big tits
inspo: my lovely favorite jjk author getodrools
any picture sent my reader there will be different links with different skin tones!
I thought I’d write something for jjk! I’m into all sorts of fandoms anime and all !! Feel free to tell me any other fandoms you’d be interested in me writing for !!
monday 10:23 am
my fav dick<33
hey baby watching those videos of u fuckin that pretty pussy <33
Attached: 1 Video
his fav pussy<33
your so biggg:)
you’d stuff me so full baby
Attached: 1 Photo (1 2 3)
my fav dick<33
i wish i could stuff your tight pussy baby:(
your tits look sooo good
maybe we could meet up?? lol
im only 30 mins away🤷🏻‍♂️
his fav pussy<33
when r u freeeee :)
im free friday we could frl meet up !! :))
my fav dick<33
thats great bc im also free friday babe;)
i have to go, duty calls but maybe we could
call tonight and play with a dildo of yours<33
his fav pussy<33
ooo yay !! can’t wait for tonight and to see you :))
my fav dick<33 hearted a message
it was true that you couldn’t wait to see him, you where a little nervous but he made you feel good and he makes you happy. but his cock was huge! you really didn’t know if you could handle all of that. but your pussy still hasn’t been fucked but anyone but yourself !! you have huge dildos so you think that you would be able to take him.
incoming call from my fav dick<33
“hey baby” choso says happily but still in his voice that you find so sexy “heyy which one are we using tonight?” “the big one” “perfect daddy !! i already have it let me put it inside” just as your about to slip it in he stops you “let me see” “of course daddy!”
choso gets to watch you play with yourself and shove the dildo in and out of your tight pussy while he jerks his dick
“s-stop” choso says into the phone and you listen, and stop.
“daddy please let me cum im so close”
“cum for me sweetheart” choso groans out as his load shoots out from his huge dick.
after both of you cum you guys talk for a little while and end up falling asleep on the phone.
friday 8:00am
my fav dick<33
what time will you be ready for me baby?
can’t wait to see you
his fav pussy<33
anytime daddy:)
my fav dick<33
okay then ill be there around 9:15 pm okay?
cant’t wait baby;)
his fav pussy<33
ekk !! cant wait:)) 9:10pm
my fav dick<33
im here baby
when you read that text your hands became clammy but your pussy is tingling !! you opened the door and you where met with a large man! you knew he was tall, and with the way you could see his dick grow when he laid eyes on you. it was going to break you in half
“hey baby” he says with a smile and you let him walk in and close the door behind him. you grab the chest of his hoodie and pull him down to you he had to be at-least 6’2. you start kissing him, he seamed a little surprised that you wanted to get started all ready but he pulls away “jump” he mumbled into your ear.
you jump and he grabs your under thighs and you wrap them around his waist and you continue to make out with him. he knew the layout of your house from the many times you would walk around with him on face time and headed over to your bedroom.
he opens the door and wraps him other arm around your body to support you as he kisses your neck. he knew you needed foreplay. as he continues to lay sloppy kisses along your neck he finds your sweet spot. you let out a gasp and a rather loud moan, thats how he knew he had found it. he sits on your bed with you on top of him.
your grinding on his dick as you let out soft groans and moans as he keeps sucking on your neck. he slowly moves a hand to your ass, and finds him way to your panties. he starts massaging the bottom of your thighs with his other hand.
you pull your neck away from him and peel your legs away from his hands and you moves your hands to his zippered pants, you pull both his pants and boxers down. he’s already hard. your met with a practically a third leg!
“wow.. your just as big(if not bigger) as i saw online!” you say with a smile as you take his balls into your palm. you cup them with one of your hands and start pumping his cock with the other. you start kissing his tip to the base. lick down and you put just your mouth on his tip and you start sucking
he groans. loudly. “fuck baby” he says as he grabs you by your hair and pushes you so you take him even deeper in your mouth. as you continue to massage his balls you feel his cock twitch when you suck. thats when he moans loudly. he starts fucking his cum inside of your mouth.
“swallow” you do as told and you swallow every last drop of his seed. when you do you open your mouth and show him, his cock is standing up again. your grabs you by the shoulders and he pulls you onto his lap and starts making out with you. before his cock almost finds its way through your panties, he lays you down on your back.
he wastes no time with shoving your tiny skirt up, which he only had to move little because it was so tiny and she slides your hot pink thong down your legs and takes them, drapes it along his dick and twists it so its all wrapped around his dick, he could feel your wetness on the thong still. he starts pumping his cock and at that time he moves his mouth to your pussy
he pushes your maxi tank top up and finds you arent wearing a bra, he uses that hand that isnt pumping his cock to pinch and twist your hard buds that lived on your massive tits. he has been sucking and licking at your clit and when he stops pumping his cock and peels the panties that are now covered in his pre cum, he suddenly moves his tongue to dart and and out of your pussy stops every once in a while to suck at your throbbing hole.
“im gonna cum” you say repeatedly and fast and when he hears this you feel him grin against your pussy and flip you onto his lap, spank your ass which makes you moan loud and hard then start rubbing your clit. he starts picking up the speed and thats when you scream out his name and cum. “oh yes choso !!”
his dick is standing once again and with not warning, he stands from his spot where he was on his knees on the floor and pushes your legs to your shoulders. “you ready baby?” he says and before you could answer, it was yes of course, his huge tip was sliding up and down your folds.
you moan out when his tip gets to your throbbing hole and he pushes just the tip in. “ i dont know if it will fit” “i’ll make it fit down worry baby”he slowly pushes inside and groans. it takes a little while for you to reach his base but when you do, you can see a bulge in your stomach. he was being so sweet but you wanted him to be mean to you, even if it was just for a little bit. “choke and slap me please” you moan out “ive got to fuck you harder then” you nod and he starts thrusting into you while choking you, but not hurting you.
he suddenly stops fucking you like that after such a quick pace, you whimper and beg him to keep going. suddenly he flips you onto your front. “arch for me” you arch. “i warmed you up with that now your gonna get back shots with this big cock” he puts his dick into your needy little pussy and starts fucking you, hard. “anything you want daddy” you moan out.
as he continues to mercilessly pound your pussy, hitting your g spot every time. you tell him your gonna cum. when he hears this he goes even faster. when you let out a scream, he keeps going until your squirting all over his dick. your body is shaking and he flips you onto your back and he presses his dick in between your tits. “tit fuck me baby” so you listen and press your tits together with his dick in between, and start milking his cock “yea just like that baby”
“come ride me” he says sitting on the bed, you where ridding him then suddenly, he wraps his arms around your waist and starts fucking you hard from under you. That’s when he finishes, but this time inside if you. And you where okay with it. You finish all over his cock, your juices mixing together and when he pulls out he fingers you to keep everything inside. He grabs his and yours discarded clothes, and helps you up.
“you good baby?” he chuckles when your knees buckle and you fall back onto the bed. he gets you new panties and helps you get dressed into your pj’s. he gets dressed himself and lays down behind you.
“im glad we met up” you say with a smile when you turn to him. “me too sweet girl” he says sleepily. eventually you both doze off.
in the morning you wake up to him nor being in your bed, so you go looking for him and you find him in your kitchen. making you breakfast. you smile and turn back to go to your room. when he enters the room he says “ i knew you where in the kitchen you know?” he says kissing your forehead and giving you the food and drink, setting your drink on the nightstand.
after you finish your food he stays with you in bed for a while, in comfortable silence. “can i be your boyfriend?” he suddenly questions. you turn to him with a huge smile and say “of course!!” you excitedly say. “im so glad.” he says kissing your forehead and dozing off, you not long after him.
729 notes · View notes
zepskies · 5 months
Note
Hi, how are you?
I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please
Hey, lovely!
I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...
Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.
Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty
Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining
Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.
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When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.
But also cautious.
He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.
And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.
That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.
He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.
You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.
You're wonderfully weird.
And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.
Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.
You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.
Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.
He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...
And yet.
He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.
You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).
But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)
It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.
And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.
Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.
Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.
"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.
You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.
"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.
Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.
"They're cute," he adds.
You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.
"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.
"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.
"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."
You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"
He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.
"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.
"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."
"Hey, at least I'll die happy."
"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.
"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.
You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"
He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."
"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.
Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.
Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.
"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.
You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.
"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."
"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.
Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.
Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.
It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.
He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.
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Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.
There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.
But it's you.
"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.
"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"
"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.
"Thanks," he says.
You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.
Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)
"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.
This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.
"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?
You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"
Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.
"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.
Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."
"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.
Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.
"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.
You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.
It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.
Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.
When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.
Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.
You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.
Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.
You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.
With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.
Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.
He finds that and more when he looks up at you.
He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.
"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.
"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.
You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."
Sam takes you at your word.
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AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!
(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)
Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."
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Sam Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
SW Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @tipthejar
@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @malindacath @brujaporfavor @katherineann83 @torchbearerkyle
@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @adoringanakin @sanscas @pap3rtigers @kaleldobrev @nix-rose
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824 notes · View notes
selfishmachinez · 3 months
Note
About time I found someone who writes for mammon !! With that being said, I’d like to ask for him with a service top/dom reader? N maybe near the end once we’ve pleased him he returns the favor via oral ? ^^’
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MAMMON WITH SERVICE TOP!READER
notes: HIIIHII THIS IS LITERALLY PERFECT??? GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET RN I LOVE THIS LITTLE THING SM☺️☺️ also im so sorry about the wait i got sick and didnt have inspo for like a day😔
warnings: not writing mammon's accent sorry💔 idk how to write accents properly just imagine it in ur mind idk; mammon being an asshole (hey, its mammon.); afab reader; insults like cunt/whore/bitch etc are still used in a gn way tho; my gf proofread like 80% of this if theres any typos blame her not me /j
word count: 1,510 (not including a/n)
NSFW UNDER CUT
okay lets get this straight
this man can NOT be a good dom
he's literally the single of greed what do you expect
our little pillow princess /hj
okay imagine this: after fizz quit, he's obviously PISSED OFF, so u do a little favor for him (wink wink)
Normally, during his Clown Pageants, you'd just sit next to him and the fizzbots on his web, watching the contestants try to win the crowd over, just to miserably fail, and watch Fizzarolli win... again.
This one had to be the most interesting one so far. Fizzarolli quit. And insulted Mammon too. He was pissed, to say the least.
You left the web a while before he "exploded" the Theatre and entered his office.
"That little bitch!" He shouted, bursting inside the office, not in full demon form anymore.
"Mam, the door." You warned him. But yeah, he pretty much already broke the door. Whatever. He's got the money, he'll get it fixed later.
He sat down on his bean bag next to you. "Can you believe it? I made that cunt! And he just walks out the scene like that!" He bitched, sitting down next to you. "That ungrateful, useless, little-" You shushed him before he could finish his sentence. "WHAT?" He growled at you.
"I think you need to, y'know, relax a little. You know what I mean?" You said, giving him the look. His eyes widened a little at the statement. "Just sit back and enjoy yourself, okay?" You said, running a hand under his motley.
"Fuck." He groaned. He was trying his hardest not to just rip his clothes off. He had a tough day. He needed this. He needed you. Your touch.
You run your hand down his pants, pulling his cock out. He was so painfully hard already. "You're this hard already? All because of me huh? You just love the attention, don't you?"
"Just- fuck, don't make me beg, you cunt." He moaned out, leaning back against the bean bag.
"Alright, boss," you said, your voice dripping with lust. You knew how much of a whore he was for that type of nickname.
brief interruption☝️ i hc his dick is about 10" (HAVE YOU SEEN HOW BIG HE IS ofc hes gonna have a huge cock) and has the same colors as his tongue (purple/periwinkle with dark yellow stripes) AND HELLA GIRTHY TOO HELLO????? CONTINUING,
You gently grip his cock, tracing circles on his tip with your thumb, causing the tiniest drop of pre-cum to leak out. "You like this already? Gosh, you ain't gonna last a second like this." You teased, beginning to stroke his dick at painfully slow rate.
"Doll, please," he panted out, in the most ridiculous fashion ever.
"Don't be greedy, Mam." You chuckled, he was so cute begging like this. "I thought you said you wouldn't beg."
"Maybe if you did a better job at this, bitch." He grunted.
"Do you want me to stop?" You said, softening your grip around his member, causing him to panic a bit. "No! Don't!" He begged, tugging at your sleeves with his bottom pair of arms. "Doll, c'mon. Don't leave me hanging."
"Hm," you wrapped another hand around his dick. "Fine, since you're being such a good boy." You'd have some work to do now. Giving him handjobs was always such a handful, no pun intended. Since he's big, a single hand was never enough. You thought about it for a while, forgetting what you were doing in the first place. "So?"
"Right. My bad." You got back to it quickly though; moving your hand up and down his member at a quicker pace, making him pant and whimper under your touch.
You wanted to give him a blowjob. Should you, though? Yes. Definitely. Even though the back of your throat would hurt horribly afterwards.
Your hands are quick to let go of him, making him tilt his head in confusion. "Whatcha doin'?" His confusion died down swiftly after he saw you kneel in front of him, pulling his pants down. "Don't." He said, grinning as he just ripped them off himself, spreading his legs. "Good boy." You mumbled, kissing his length.
While one of your hands rested on his inner thigh, rubbing gentle circles on it with your index finger, your tongue went from his base to his tip, feeling every little vein on the way up there.
"Fuck, pumpkin." He moaned, grabbing the back of your head. "Please." He lifted your head up to make you look at him. He gave you the most pathetic grin ever, sweating his ass off.
"Don't be a baby." You kissed his tip, making him moan, covering his mouth with his hand.
After teasing and edging him for a good 5 minutes, he had enough of that. "Just- ugh, please." He groaned, tugging at your hair. "Do it already. Ya teasing me too much."
"Stop being a brat, whore." You shut him up with that. "Good." Finally, you got to work. Though you only swallowed his tip at first, he was already a mess. But you had to keep going; you force yourself down his length as best as you could, licking and sucking on him. That was definitely not enough though, so you grab the part you couldnt get down your throat with your hand, caressing his base.
"Close. 'M so fucking-" He groaned, sending down little electric shocks. Oh, yeah, he does that sometimes.
another interruption, i hc him an being a ballooning/joro spider, since he kinda looks like one and they use electricity like him‼️ okay CONTINUING ONCE MOREEEE,,,,,
You took your mouth off him for a bit, gasping for air. "You're being so greedy, you know that?" You grinned at him. He looked like such a mess right now. Panting and sweating. But by god, did he look adorable like that. You go back to just gently licking down at his member, looking him in the eyes.
"Pumpkin, please, 'm so close- fuck..."
"Is that so? Hm?" You mumbled, kissing his base gently, going back to patting his tip with your palm. He greedily humped your palm, eager to cum.
He kept on buckling against your palm until he moaned loudly against his hand. "I'm gonna..." You pulled your hand away from his tip, letting him cum all over your face. He slumped down on the bean bag, gasping for air louder than he had to.
You sigh, getting up to grab some tissues to get you both cleaned. He calls you, "Yes?" You reply.
"Y'know, I could 'pay you back'." He grinned, getting up and grabbing you by the waist. "Ya just calmed me down, guess I owe you a little favor." Without warning you, he grabs you and throws you (as gently as he could) back on the bean bag, leaning on top of you, licking his own cum off your face.
"Cleaning the mess you made with your tongue like that? You slut." You fiddle with his jester hat. "What are you gonna do, huh?"
"Just trust me, sweet cheeks." He mumbled, taking your pants/skirt/shorts off. Oh. Was he gonna..? Normally, he wouldn't really pay you back, not that you wanted him to. You were perfectly fine with just pleasuring him. "You don't have to."
"I want to. Are you gonna let me do my thing, yeah?." He grumbled, taking your underwear off with his teeth. God.
"Mhm, yes sir." He kissed down at your v-line, making you tremble slightly.
a/n, i tried to hard to write an amab version but god im horrid at this
also holy shit have you seen his tongue
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he def knows how to use it for good
im wet i mean who said that whaaaatttt🤯
He gently licked down at your clit. Once, twice. Then stopped. "Why'd you..?" But he shushed you by shoving a finger inside you. "Ya like this?" You answer with a weak moan, which he took as a "yes".
So, he put another finger in, scissoring them inside you. He sucked on your clit, making you moan and squirm. "Use... your tongue."
"Hm? What?" He pulled out, looking up at you, a wide grin spread across his face.
"You know what I mean." He looked back down at your cunt. You squished his face between your thighs. He took his fingers out, licking them before replacing them with his much longer and thicker tongue, making you whimper. Loudly. He moved his tongue inside you. Up and down, left and right, in and out.
It was rare for him to give you oral, but when he did, it felt like heaven. He pulled out, panting. But you shoved his face back there. He couldn't stop. Not now.
He quickly went back to eating you out, needily thrusting his tongue in and out your pussy.
"Good fucking God, Mammon-" And there he goes again, pulling his tongue out. "Why'd you stopp..." You whined. He looked down at your puffy and wet cunt. "Shouldn't have teased me earlier."
"What, but- but you know you like it!" Your tone dripped with desperation. You needed to cum so badly. Would he give you the satisfaction that early though? Obviously not. Not out of selfishness, he just had to give you a good orgasm. Like the one you gave him. "Mhm..." He huffed against your entrance, gently shoving a finger in while licking your clit in a circular motion.
He did so for a good 5 minutes, before adding a finger, then another one. You couldn't take it anymore. He was overstimulating you so much. You aggressively tugged at his hat, forcing him onto you even more. He took two fingers out, replacing the latter with his tongue.
You definitely couldn't take it anymore. "Mammon, I'm gonna..." Finally, he let you cum. Not that you let go of him for a good 10 seconds though. You gripped at his hat, still riding out your high.
"See, told ya I'd pay you back."
209 notes · View notes
fairydustblossom · 9 months
Text
tied to you
azriel x reader
summary: yours and azriels friendship is strained, but azriel can't seem to keep away from you
category: angst, mutual-pinning, fluff
word count: 3.5k
warnings: none i think lol
notes: hey y'all i know i disappeared for a bit i promise i will update losing control but i just hadn't felt any inspo and my brain kept coming up with different fic ideas lol, anyways wrote this one and i quite like it ◡̈ lmk what y'all think! and remember request are open! i won't necessarily get to them immediately but i will at some point!! enjoy!
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“Why don't you like me anymore?” a deep voice asked. You jumped in your seat, dropping the pen you were writing with, ink splashing all over your paper. You hadn’t heard the owner of the voice approach you, having been consumed by your work in the deep aisles of the library. 
At the sound of his voice, your inner alert senses started going off. Immediately you were overcome with the urge to flee, the same feeling you had often felt in his presence as of late. If you didn’t leave now, your heart would hurt. The longing within you would surface if you didn’t find a way out. However, you looked up, glancing at the intruder. The room you were in had darkened, the faeligths around you dimmed, as if the light was fighting to be seen. That was the power he had. To walk into a room and the sheer strength of his power bend the will of light, surrendering to the darkness he commanded. There he was, sitting across from you and you could feel yourself wanting to do the same. Wanting to succumb to him, give all of you to the darkness that was part of him and never surface again.
Fighting back the urge to roll your eyes, you met his unrelenting stare and sighed. This again. Recently, he had started noticing the distance you had put between you and him and he had started trying to catch your attention, to get you to speak to him, anything to get you to interact with him.
"Azriel you know I like you, we are family" you replied, glancing up at him for a breath only to continue your work.
His cheeks were slightly flushed. You hadn’t seen it, but he had winced when he startled you enough to ruin the paper you were writing on. He didn’t intend for his question to come out so bluntly. He already felt mortified at approaching you with this question, but he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but notice how you never interacted with him anymore. Couldn’t help but notice how anytime he tried speaking with you, you would find a way to get out of the conversation. How you would leave a room when he walked in, and if you had to stay in the room, how you would simply ignore his existence. 
He remembered a time when you would smile at him every time he walked into a room. How you unabashedly talked to him, unphased by his quiet demeanor. How you would seek him out in meetings, at parties, during missions. How could he not notice the change? At first he thought you were maybe going through something and needed some space. But your behavior towards the rest of your family hadn’t changed, you had only changed your behavior towards him. Azriel couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much. It was eating him alive, not knowing what he did wrong. How had he managed to push away his dearest friend? 
He took you in, eyes narrowing at your response. He expected you to tell him honestly, to not so casually lie to his face, as if he didn’t know when you were being dishonest.
"You know Y/N, I’m used to being disliked,, and normally I wouldn’t care.. but... we used to be friends. At least I thought we were." Even though he tried, he couldn’t fully keep the bitterness from his words.
"We... we are friends Azriel" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You could tell Azriel was irritated, but you refused to let him get to you. You had vowed to yourself to remain strong in your decision to keep your distance from Azriel. For years, you had longed for your friendship to grow into something more. For years you had been complacent, satisfied in having any part of him that you could. Pushing aside the feelings you harbored for the Shadowsinger, grateful that you could be such a close friend, never asking for more. 
He shook his head at your response, narrowing his eyes further and standing his ground. "No we aren't. I know how you treat your friends and you dont treat me like that anymore." 
You looked back down to your papers, opting not to respond. You knew Azriel and you knew anything you said he would counteract with his own reasoning. And the truth was that you had distanced yourself, and you didn't really consider Azriel a friend anymore. You had painfully said goodbye to that friendship that you cherished so dearly. It had taken you a long time to accept that Azriel would never be yours. You had finally come to terms with the fact that remaining friends was too painful. So you had decided to end the friendship.
No, you never had a conversation about it with him, but you didn’t think he would care. He never seemed to care. At least you thought that, until now.
Your  silence hurt him more than he expected. A feeling of dread was creeping up on him. At that moment, Azriel decided the most important thing in the world was to gain back your friendship. The loss of it suddenly unbearable. He could undoubtedly see the emptiness it had left in  his life. 
"Y/N, did I do something?" he managed to keep his voice steady but he was ready to drop to his knees and plead for your forgiveness, whatever he had done. 
You snapped your book shut and stood up looking down at him now.
"No Az, you haven't done anything. Really, I’ve just been busy" you shot him a tight smile, and turned around walking away from the conversation. 
Azriel stood up, about to follow you but the pit in his stomach, the feeling of rejection, and how easily you dismissed him, left him standing in place.
A few days later, Azriel had come back to the library. He had, at one point, seated himself  in the chair across from you. 
He was intent on getting you to acknowledge him. Even if it was only you asking him to go away. He figured you would say something about him there; however, you said nothing to him. You had only looked at him once, when you first realized he was there. The rest of the time, you just sat silently, working on whatever Rhys had asked of you. At first, his presence made your entire body tense up and it was hard to concentrate on your work, but refused to give in. You knew he was just trying to provoke you. Still, Azriel just sat there doing his own work. After a few hours of silence, realizing Azriel wasn’t going to bring up your strained friendship again, you were able to relax. His presence became comforting, something you had not felt in a long time.
Azriel’s calming presence had been one of the first things that drew you to him. He had never been a man of many words but you had always found solace in him. A consistent, safe space for you. 
You had mourned the loss of that space, and you were weary of letting yourself fall back into old habits, but you decided to indulge yourself. One time wouldn't ruin all the hard work you had put into coping with the distance. So you let yourself bask in his silence, your mind losing itself in your work. 
Azriel on the other hand couldn't really calm down. Joy filled him with being able to sit next to you. He kept wracking his brain for something to say but kept deciding against it. He was terrified of feeling what he had felt the other day, determined to  never  feel rejected by you again. He decided he would be content with just sitting next to you in silence. 
The intensity with which he  realized  how much he had missed the warmth you radiated, after getting it back today, took him by surprise. He mentally made plans to seek you out whenever he needed to do paperwork. If you let him sit next to you he would be happy with that. 
When you got to a good stopping point, you decided to leave. Everything in you begged you to stay longer, to talk to him, to touch him, but you fought against it. You would not let yourself go back to being at his disposal. 
Azriel continued showing up to the library whenever he needed to do work. His heart would quicken anytime he set his eyes on you, tucked away in your corner. He refrained from talking, fear seizing his heart that talking would break this delicate companionship. He also started showing up to training at the same time as you, even if the sweat glistening down your body made it impossible to actually train and he had to do two sessions a day. He felt consumed by thoughts of you, he craved you.  
When Azriel started showing up to your training hours, your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. You had purposely changed your schedule to avoid training with him, it had become unbearable. Now, you were back in the same predicament. Worry filled you, it felt like you were losing control of the situation and Azriel was slowly trickling back into every aspect of your life. But you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in you every time you saw him, fully aware that what he seeked was your company. It also helped that he looked incredibly breathtaking while training. The sight of his shirtless torso one that you had missed. The tattoos that adorned his defined muscles, and the power he radiated while practicing his skills, made your knees want to buckle. 
He didn't really know if you found it annoying that he was forcing himself back into your life. You wouldn't let much show and he couldn’t decipher how you were feeling. He wasn't used to that. He used to be able to read you so easily, whatever you were feeling so plainly written on your face. The past weeks had felt like he was getting to know you all over again, like he had to earn those smiles back that so easily had come before. Azriel understood now that he had taken you for granted, and he was ready to do just about anything he could to get you back. 
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At the end of the fourth week of this new silent dance between you and Azriel, you found yourself somehow sitting next to him in a circled booth at Ritas. Conversation flowed between your friends, but you stayed quiet, the feeling of Azriel’s body pressed against you overwhelming your thoughts. His muscular body radiated warmth and you could feel yourself leaning into him in your drunken state. You sat up straighter when you realized what you were doing, looking around the booth hoping none of your friends had noticed. They hadn’t, all too busy in their own worlds to notice anything. 
Azriel turned his gaze to look down at you, you seemed to be looking at everything but him. He took in how your exposed thigh was pressed against his covered one, and he thought for a fleeting second that he shouldn’t have worn pants tonight if it meant he would have been able to feel your bare skin against his. He had felt you sinking into him and then quickly sitting up and fought the urge to pull you into him again. He wanted you closer to him. He wanted you.
The alcohol running through him gave him the courage to bump you with his shoulder to get your attention. Your head turned to look at him and your eyes met his hazel ones. You were mesmerized. It seemed his eyes were glowing in the night club, specks of gold beckoning you in deeper. His shadows creeped up around you both as you continued to stare into each other's eyes. He leaned down, and your heart skipped a beat, for a brief second you thought he was going to kiss you. But instead of your lips, his lips brushed the side of your ear. You felt silly, why would he kiss you? Rather than shame filling you, heat creeped up, your breath hitching in your throat when you felt his own on your neck. 
“So, are you going to tell me why you stopped being my friend?” He asked against your ear, deep voice gruff with the drinking of the night. He leaned back and looked at you intently, waiting for your answer. 
"Come on Azzie, you know better than to ask questions like that" you replied with half shut lidded eyes and a shake of your head, a soft smile etched on your face.
His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used to call him, only in private moments. And your smile. That soft barely there smile was the realest smile you had given him in months. He wanted more of it. He wanted that smile aimed at him every day. The fervor of his need left him breathless and it took everything in him not to grab your face and kiss you until all you could say was his name.
He licked his lips and said in a low voice, "You forget interrogation is part of my job description. I ask whatever I want, and I always get answers"
You couldn't fight off the heat creeping up your cheeks. His voice, gods, his voice did things to you. Especially when it was just meant for you to hear it. You let out a sigh, a deflated sigh. You recognized the need rising within you to have him. And every reminder that you never would made you feel heavy and defeated. 
"I don't understand why you wanna know so bad" you whispered, averting your gaze, only to be met by a thick cloud of shadows. 
"I care about you" he replied, his hand tentatively reaching up to turn your face back to him. He barely touched you, scared of spooking you, but when he did, he felt a spark shoot up his arm and he swore he could feel it crawling its way up to his chest. However, the slight frown on your face hinted to him that he had said the wrong thing. 
"Azriel, it's been months. I don't think you cared about me until this past month. And you and I both know the only reason you suddenly care is because Elain finally gave Lucien a chance and is not giving you any attention anymore."
The sharpness in your words took him aback and he looked away.  And the mention of Elain made his cheeks flush . His shadows scattered away form you and were mostly surrounding their master now. He felt embarrassed at how he had behaved the past year, knowing full well Elain had a mate. It was a sore subject, and he hadn’t expected you to throw it back in his face like that. But your words weren't exactly accurate. Yes, he had noticed the distance between you only recently, and some of that did have to do with not being around Elain as much anymore, but he had always cared for you. How could you think otherwise? 
He couldn't deny that something was drawing him to you more than ever and he didn't know what to say back to you. The lightness in your conversation, verging on the edge of flirtiness had dissipated. He could feel your unrelenting stare on the side of his face and could feel your annoyance growing  by the second. 
"I've always cared about you" he finally said, mustering the courage to look you in the eyes again. He forced himself to look at you and read the dislike you held for him on your face. The look you gave him now is what he had been wanting this past month. Every time he sat next to you, every time he invaded your space he wanted you to look at him this way, to prove that he wasn't making it up, to prove that he was right in thinking you didn't like him anymore. But now that he saw it, he felt small. He felt that he had done something to ruin the friendship he had grown to fiercely need in his life again. 
You couldn't fight the roll of your eyes and the scoff that came out of you at his words. The alcohol making you lose the grace with which you had handled Azriel the last few weeks. You stood up and walked away, the words "Not in the way I've cared about you" at the tip of your tongue. Trying to lose yourself in the crowd you quickly made your way through, fighting off the tears building up. The past month had just been too much. You had promised yourself that you would not be in this position again. That you wouldn't cry over Azriel again. 
You stepped out of Ritas into the cold fresh air and let out an exasperated laugh, tears falling from your eyes now. You felt a madness creeping up within you, the feeling of being trapped, always tied to Azriel  consuming you.
You leaned against a wall and looked up at the night sky, laughing at yourself.Only a few minutes had passed before you felt him coming near you. The look you shot him made him stop abruptly. Something in his chest broke at seeing you in such a state. Your makeup was smudged around your bloodshot eyes, tear marks running down your face. 
You had stopped crying and now you just stared at him with a deadpan look. Why were you crying? He was so confused. He furrowed his brows. Were you crying over him? 
He didn't know if it was the liquor running through his veins that gave him the boldness  to step closer to you, or if it was simply the need within him to feel your body pressed against his. The desire overtaking his body to be sharing each other's space. But he did know that he felt a pull towards you, an unstoppable force that would only subside once he could feel your breath against his lips. He just knew. 
Azriel analyzed your features, looking for any indication that he had misread the situation. The front of his body was fully pressed against yours now, your back pressed against the wall, drawing a small gasp from you. His hands came to cup your face, and his thumbs wiped away the remaining wetness on your cheeks. 
"Is this okay?" he whispered, barely audible.
You could only give a slight nod, hypnotized by his beauty, the feeling of his strong body against yours. Everything you had dreamed of for years. This couldn't be real, could it? You were afraid that if you spoke the moment would end. You took in every detail of his face, committing everything to memory, you had never been this close to him. You could see the furrow in his brows as he took you in, the freckles spread around his face, his beautiful nose nudging yours slightly, and his lips. His plump lips, gods his lips, once you set your eyes on them you couldn’t draw them away.
And then he leaned in, lips hovering over yours, you could feel them lightly grazing your own. You felt like you were melting, the wall and his body the only things holding you up. 
"Please kiss me Az" you heard yourself say, not even realizing you had started speaking until the words were coming out of your mouth. The desire you had kept locked up for so long seeping through. 
That was all Azriel needed to hear to do what he wanted to do. His lips met yours in a slow passionate kiss, he poured every once of care and affection he felt for you into it. He didn't rush it, he let himself feel every part of your mouth, taste every inch. His hands tightened their grip on your face. One hand tangling into your hair. How had he gone so long without ever tasting you? He felt that he couldn't stop now. He felt so complete.
And then it snapped. The bond he had been searching for his entire life. The pull that he felt toward you. And you felt it too. The feeling of being tied to Azriel, never letting you get too far, had been the bond. All at once, everything made sense and fell into place. You held him closer to you, neither of you stopping to catch your breath. You just kept kissing him, trying to figure out how to pour everything you were feeling down the bond. And then you felt his own feelings seeping through, the happiness he felt, the relief, and the heat that came with it indicating what this kiss was doing to him. 
You felt yourself giggling between kisses, the bond singing with joy in its full force. "You're my mate" you said, hand coming to hold his face in place, leaning your forehead against his while still looking into the pools of honey in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and he couldn't, wouldn't, fight off the smile creeping up on him. ",and you're mine." He whispered
There would be a lot to talk about in the following days, but for now you just let yourself forget everything to enjoy the feeling of Azriel.
701 notes · View notes
halucynator · 10 months
Note
hey babe ! i saw that you take mattheo riddle requests xx i was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle x reader where reader gets dumped (by whoever you want) and mattheo riddle comforts them? Thanks x
Pretty Crier
Pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader
Warnings: swearing, not proof read, fluff (not a warning but wtv)
Best friends to lovers.
The reader is Slytherin. Mattheo calls reader princess (just more natural for him to).
English isn't my first language so there might be mistakes xx
Summary: your boyfriend breaks up with you and mattheo riddle comforts you.
Oh and mattheo and reader have been friends since year 1 so they're like really close.
A/n: thanks for the request xx kinda lost inspo at the end lmao
If you want to request I recommend reading this xx
reblogs are appreciated xx
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You knew it would happen. You knew he was going to dump you. You just didn't think it would be so fast. So, of course your shock was justified when your boyfriend broke up with you this morning for no apparent reason. He claimed "he was bored of you" and "found someone more exciting". I mean, if he was going to break up with you, he could atleast give a valid reason.
Tears flooded your eyes as the words hit you like a face slap. You ran down the hallway to the astronomy tower where you knew you'd be alone and bawled your eyes out. Alone. Or atleast you thought you were.
You heard the shuffle of footsteps behind you, wiped your eyes and turned around. And there he was towering you. Mattheo Riddle.
You looked at him with teary eyes.
"What do you want?" I say though my voice doesn't sound the least bit intimidating. Infact it quavered.
"I just want to help you. You could atleast be nice about it." He states, rolling his eyes.
You glare at him.
"I don't want your help." You say obviously lying.
He raises his eyebrow, unamused.
You roll your eyes and acquiesce in his decision. You pat next to yourself gesturing him to sit next to you.
He sits next to you, his back against the pillar like yours. He takes out a cigarette and lights it.
"and here I thought I was the depressed one." You say sarcastically.
"what, you want one princess?" He asks.
You didn't initially intend on saying yes but you do.
He opens his box.
"Shit I'm out." He says. "Here take this one." He hands you his.
"no it's fine." You reply.
"you're right, you're the one that's depressed. Take it. I don't mind. Unless you don't want to for some other reason." Mattheo states.
"i- erm fine. We could share it?" You suggest.
"yeah yeah that's fine!" Mattheo says nervously.
"sorry i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You can have that one." you blurt out.
"no it's fine don't worry just making sure you aren't uncomfortable." he smiles at you genuinely.
"he actually smiles! Like a genuine one!" You joke trying to liven up the atmosphere.
Mattheo chuckles at that.
"Only for you princess" He replies.
"So erm who made you cry?" Mattheo asks.
"Just some asshole ravenclaw."
"He sounds like a jerk."
"he is."
"What'd he do?"
"he broke up with me. Said I was boring."
Mattheo wears a shocked expression.
"first of all that bitch ravenclaw is probably more boring than any slytherin that ever existed. Second of all, you are not boring. I've known you since year 1 and somehow I am not bored of you. That bitch knew you for two seconds and was already bored. Third of all, red flag red flag red flag." Mattheo exclaimed.
I chuckle.
"oh and did I mention you are beautiful and amazing and that annoying fuck does not deserve you." Mattheo adds.
"thanks." I smile at him trying to hide the tears clouding my sight. A tear rolls down my eyes.
Mattheo reaches out to wipe it away, shortly stopping to make sure he has your consent. When he receives a nod from you in reply, he gently wipes his thumb against your cheek to remove the tear. It shouldn't give you butterflies but it did.
"don't cry princess." Mattheo hugs you and rubs circles in your waist to comfort you.
You breathe in his cologne mixed with the scent of the cigarette you two shared. You relaxed in his hold.
"how long have you been crying?" Mattheo asks like it's a normal question to ask.
"sorry?" You respond.
"you're a pretty crier." He winks at you.
"You haven't been with me one minute and you're already flirting." I tut at him jokingly.
"you don't mind it do you princess?" He asks.
You shake your head.
No you didn't mind it. Of course you didn't.
"you look better when smiling though." He says.
You smile at him.
"trying to impress me huh?" He winks at you.
"what can I say, I guess even I can't resist your charm." You play along.
"don't worry darling, nothing to be ashamed of." He smirks at you.
"don't pride yourself Riddle." You try to humble him.
"hard not to when one of the prettiest girls I know admits to not being able to resist my charm."
"you don't mean that."
"yeah I do."
"prove it."
And he does. His lips crash against yours. His lips are soft. As he pulls away, you smirk at him.
"looks like you can't resist my charm." You say pointedly.
"yeah I guess not. But is that so bad?" He asks.
No. No it wasn't. Infact it was much better than he would've known.
706 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 6 months
Note
omg ok so blurb idea for ginger ale bc u said u needed inspo
i know u kinda already touched up on this in the main story but what if mias like completely drained from school like its exam season and she has to study but shes also somehow failing classes even tho she studied and is swamped with work but cant get up to do anything bc shes panicking and stuff and idk maybe she pushes him away bc shes freaked out and hes like huh bc she never snaps at him like that bla bla and then some angst and fluff and comfort 😭
im so sorry this wasnt supposed to be that long but inspiration struck😭💀obviously u dont have to write it jus a suggestion
omg LOVE THIS!!!!! here's a little something for you :))
word count: 1.7k
content warnings: angst (all is solved in the end), harry being a dummy, age gap romance (8 years)
based on this one-shot!
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Harry has never seen Mia so exhausted before.
Granted, they've only been officially dating for a few months, but she's typically a relatively organized student. It's something that he's always admired about her — he can think back to his days in university and immediately remembers scattered deadlines and far too many hungover mornings, resulting in constantly missing classes.
Then again, he's never seen her during finals season, and it's apparent that she's feeling the impact of papers, exams, and one too many late nights spent studying.
Because of the nature of their lives, finding time to spend with one another without work or school is often difficult. It's important to Harry that they actively set aside an evening or two each week that's just for them. No discussion of board meetings, lectures, or any stressors — he likes to keep it simple with a delicious and filling meal, a movie on the TV (whether or not they watch it is a separate factor), and his girl nestled into his side.
But for the first time ever, Mia's texting him to cancel.
Under any other ordinary circumstance, he'd be more understanding. Truly. But it's been almost a week since he's seen her, and he's feeling... well, needy. He misses her! And he knows that distance is good, blah blah blah, but this is their time — and it feels like she's just brushing him off, as if he barely matters.
It's why he ends up calling her on his way home from work with Reese driving smoothly and calmly up in the front. Harry drums his fingers against his knee as he listens to the dial tone, a frown on his lips as he waits for her to answer.
"Hello?"
Relief washes over his chest despite her anxiety-ridden tone. "Hey, I'm heading home from work. Do you want me to have Reese come pick you up?"
She sighs frustratedly, "Harry, I just texted you that I can't come over tonight. I have to study."
"You can't give up a few hours to spend with your boyfriend?" he fires back, an accusatory edge to his voice, "I've barely seen you lately."
"You've been in school before, H, you know how stressful exams season is. I need to do well."
"Mi, you're the smartest person I know, you'll be fine if you take some time away from—"
"I won't be, actually," she suddenly snaps. "I'm already failing one of my most important classes and if I don't get at least a B+ on the final, I'll have to retake it next semester. So no, I can't just slack off for a few hours, I need to study, Harry."
Immediately, he pauses. Mia has never gotten angry with him before, vice versa. And he doesn't think he's being particularly unreasonable — if anything, he feels she is — but he's mature enough to know that nothing's getting solved in this conversation. Not when she's clearly tired and stressed. Instead, he opts for the more caring-boyfriend-approach.
"I didn't know you were failing a course. Why didn't you ask for help?"
"Because you can't solve everything!" Mia exclaims, sending a pang of hurt rattling through his chest. "I need to go, alright? I'll see you soon."
With that, the line goes dead.
. . .
Even when Mia falls asleep on her couch, textbook in her lap and a highlighter between her fingers, she can't believe Harry.
The next morning, when she has a persistent ache in her neck and her back feels like it's broken in two, she knows school isn't the only stressful thing her body's responding to.
She thinks dating an older guy is great. Dating Harry is great. Until moments like this, when he somehow forgets that people — including his girlfriend — need to work to get certain things in life, and that they won't just be given an entire company a month after graduation. She doesn't doubt that he understands that on some level, but from the perspective of a partner — well, she thinks he's being pretty insensitive.
Her fingers twitch at her sides in class as she tries her best to pay attention, wanting nothing more to grab her phone from her bag to see if he's texted her. Midway through the day, though, there's still nothing. She can't believe he still hasn't apologized for how he acted the previous night, and it only makes anger fester in her chest even more.
Finally, by the time she trudges home in the cold (December is nearing, and with that comes miserable gusts of wind and flurries of snow), she's had it with his silent treatment. She's barely through the door when she decides that she'll be the one to break the tension — only, when she kicks her shoes off at the door, she notices that her kitchen and living room lights are on, and she surely turned them off before heading out this morning.
Gripping her phone in her hand, she quietly tip-toes out of the entryway, nervous that there's some sort of... homely intruder eating her snacks or watching TV. Instead, she gasps out in shock, clutching her chest when her eyes fall on none other than Harry.
"What the fuck?!" Mia exclaims, her heart thumping quickly with anxiety. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you."
She squints her eyes, feeling her eyebrows nearly shoot up to her forehead. "So you call. Or text. Not break into my house!"
"You gave me a spare key, Mia—"
"That's for emergencies!" she shouts, suddenly feeling like the living room is slowly getting smaller and closing in on her.
"But you never would've let me come over—"
"Harry, I was literally about to call you when I walked in the door. I'm still mad at you for last night! And you're only making me angrier by being here!"
Tears well up in her eyes as she spits the words out at him. She never thought she'd be in this position with him — it hurts her to even verbalize her anger.
"Wait," Harry stands from the couch, a furrow in his brows as he crosses his arms over the button-up he likely wore to work today, "You're mad at me?"
Mia stares back at him like he has two heads.
"Yes," she slowly replies. "Do not tell me you're mad at me."
His throat bobs. "Yeah. I am."
"For what?!" her anger festers in her chest all over again, exploding like an overflowing pot of boiling water.
"You— you haven't been around lately. You haven't been spending time with me or treating me like a priority."
She squints her eyes, her fingertips finding her temples as an ache begins to settle at the sides of her head. With a shake of her head, she turns around, stomping back towards the entryway of her apartment.
"You need to go," she decides, not even bothering to shed her jacket off yet, "I can't talk to you right now. You're being incredibly unreasonable."
"So you just want to walk away, then? We're not gonna solve anything, we're just gonna keep ignoring each other?"
"I was never ignoring you! I was waiting for you to apologize to me, only to find out that you think I'm in the wrong!"
Harry scoffs as he follows her down the hallway. "Well, I'm not leaving. I want to fix things. And I'm not going until we do."
"Is your approach to annoy me into apologizing?" Mia snaps.
"No," he mutters with a roll of his eyes, "Maybe we're both just being emotional."
She shrugs her shoulders.
"Do you still want me to go?"
Mia shifts her stance from foot to foot. With a noisy sigh, she shakes her head before mumbling out, "No. Let's just... talk about it."
He nods. There's a silence lulling between them as she stands with her back pressed against the wall, stubbornness apparent as she crosses her arms over her chest. He swallows and rolls his lips into a thin line.
"I'm sorry for coming over unannounced. That was very immature of me and crossing a boundary. I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to see you."
She keeps her eyes on the floor. "I just wish you'd texted or called instead. I waited all day to hear from you."
"I'm sorry," Harry repeats, his sock-clad feet taking a hesitant step closer to her, "It makes me feel stupid, how needy I can get. I know we're both busy with our own lives but I adore you, Mi. And I hate being away from you."
"I hate it, too," she mumbles, her bottom lip slightly pouted. "And you're not stupid for being needy... I just need you to understand that I'm working hard trying to get my education, and I need you to respect when I'm stressed or busy."
"I will. I'll do better."
She glances up to look at him. He looks tired, his eyes sad. With a quiet sigh, she lifts her hand to press her palm against his warm cheek. The prickles of his facial hair serve as a harsh juxtaposition from the soft skin beneath.
"I'm sorry, too. I never want you to feel like I don't care or I don't want to be with you. I just get so overwhelmed."
"I understand," Harry coos, wrapping a hand around her wrist to bring it to his mouth. He presses light kisses into her palm. "I know you care. I have to work on being more secure in our relationship."
Mia hums at his kisses, his gentle nature a welcomed change from their arguing.
"You know, you could always move closer," she murmurs with a smirk. He chuckles.
"Yeah. Or you could always just move in."
She rolls her eyes, "Then I'd really never get any work done."
"Mm, but think about how nice it'd be," he mumbles, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. "I'd cook you dinner all the time, bring you snacks and tea while you study... you'd have your own office, of course. We could get a dog or a cat, too. Share a bed every night... you wouldn't have to use travel sizes of all your skincare stuff either, because everything would be there already."
She smiles to herself as she leans her head on his shoulder. The thought is nice. So nice. But they both know it's too early in their relationship, regardless of how deeply they feel for one another. Maybe it's a dream to work up to — a sweet, domestic life together.
"And you know what would be the best part?" she asks, brushing her lips up against the shell of his ear.
"Hm?"
"I'd get to use your heated bathroom floors every day."
110 notes · View notes
cupidjyu · 9 months
Text
the sweetener you are
hyunjae x reader (idea from the anon who requested childhood friends to lovers!)
summary: when a mysterious man moves into the apartment next door, you realize that he’s your childhood best friend who’s disappeared for years. he changed, his life seeming to have soured. but you could just be his sweetener, the one to make him smile again
genre: best friends to lovers, and boy-next-door sorta thing, hurt/comfort for him because he deserves the world, nightmares, healing, one bed trope, youre forced to move in with him hahaha am i evil, back hugs, he acts "drunk" when tired (dont ask why, it was just an excuse to write him being clingy), hes flirty ish and teasing, hes shirtless for like one second (BECAUSE.), sleepy love confessions, kissing, is there tension? i can't tell myself, “sweetheart” good god notes: school started so expect much much less after this... so see you in a bit 🥲🥲but hope u enjoy!!! this is literally just yumi who needs to stop writing long interpretations of their love for hyunjae in the form of fics + song inspo! word count: 12.7k
You coughed. You choked. And then you glared straight at Younghoon who was staring back in complete alarm. Setting the unfinished glass down on the counter with a loud clink, you clenched your jaw with unspoken curse words that threatened to escape your lips.
“This tastes like dirt,” You garbled out. Rushing over to one of your cupboards, you pulled out one of those small sugar packets that you liked to swipe from those cute coffee shops. If it was free, why not take a few? Ripping the paper open, you poured it into the drink that didn’t even look like it belonged on this planet. It was both… green and yellowish-blue at the same time.
Younghoon gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth dramatically. “That’s not healthy!”
“But it tastes so bad,” You whined. “It needs a sweetener.”
He glared, dragging his hand all the way down his jaw in an unattractive way. “It’s an herbal drink. It’s meant to taste bad. Think of all the health benefits you could’ve gotten out of that without the sugar.”
“You made this?” You scrunched up your face in disgust.
“No, I–” He laughed nervously. “My mom did. I promised her I would finish it.”
You narrowed your eyes. “And you couldn’t because it tasted so bad. So you’re making me finish it.”
He gave you a pained smile as he stepped away. “I– who said that?”
“Why’re we even friends?” You questioned before jabbing a finger at the door. “Get out.”
Younghoon pouted but he eventually obliged, opening the apartment door. “You still owe me money for that overpriced tiny piece of cake by the way.”
“It tasted good!” You shot back.
“It did not.” He sighed. “It’s just you with your horrible sweet tooth. Don’t even– hey…” You noticed him peeking out of your door and into the hallway. And then he leaned back in, searching your face with wonder. “Someone’s moving in next door.”
You brightened with interest at that, practically jumping off where you were sitting on the kitchen counter. Bounding over to the door, you poked your head out under Younghoon’s, just like they did in the cartoons. Squinting your eyes, all you could see was a tall man with a cap on that covered most of his face. 
“Who’s that?” Younghoon said, slightly too loud for your liking.
With a groan, you elbowed him in the ribs. “Shh…how would I know? Though... he does look better than that old dude who constantly yelled at those courtroom TV shows like he was the judge.” It was like the apartment next to yours was cursed. Magic wasn’t real here. Or at least, in this world. But you still believed that a witch had strolled by and casually placed a hex on Apt 245 for the fun of it. For the time that you’ve been here, you’ve seen about five people move in there. And they were never happy. 
Once, there were two parents who had to deal with multiple children who would not stop crying. You hadn’t slept a wink the whole time they were there. They did receive a noise complaint though. Another time, there was a teenager who couldn’t even properly pay off the rent. He didn’t have a job. But he could somehow afford the loudest speaker where he would play the most gut-wrenching, saddest music ever. He got evicted.
But this man… well–he looked decent. Really. No evident curse here. Or at least, yet. When he turned around, you could see that he was very tall and… broad. Apparently, that was the first thing you noticed. He also seemed to pick up the moving boxes with ease and when he had stepped just the slightest to the side, you could see the impossibly perfect slope of his nose. Also a very odd thing to notice.
Younghoon grasped your arm, pulling you back into your own apartment.
“Don’t fall in love.”
You gaped at him. “What? I don’t even know who he is.”
He raised an eyebrow. “But he’s tall. And broad. And has a nice nose. I know you. I know your type.”
Shit.
“You do know me,” You mumbled sheepishly. “But still!” You poked him harshly. “I won’t fall in love. I probably won’t even see him for like– a month. Or he’s going to be cursed and moved out like the others. Don’t worry.”
Your friend narrowed his eyes in skepticism but he eventually nodded. “As long as you don’t bump into him tomorrow or something.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Of course. I won’t fall in love.”
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You didn’t fall in love. You fell onto the floor.
And you also happened to bump into him the next day ironically enough.
If only—if only—you decided to pick up your mail yesterday like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. And by this, you meant being distracted by a cup that rolled out of your new neighbor’s door and then walking straight into his chest. 
You squeaked in horror. “I’m sorry!” And then you stepped backwards, tripped on your badly-timed untied shoelace, and ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway.
When you looked up, there was a pretty hand that reached out to help you up. Taking it with burning cheeks, you could finally see what this man looked like up close and without a cap.
And you would have expected maybe one of those boy-next-door romantic moments where you would fall into his arms and start dating the next day. Oh, and also kiss and eventually get married. But no, you—
“Hyunjae?”
The man—Hyunjae—gaped at you with comically wide eyes. 
“Y/n,” He breathed out.
As long-lost childhood friends, the most sensible thing to do was ask how he was. But you often defied expectations, positively or negatively, and so instead you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug.
Hyunjae, whom you’ve known since you were just young kids, has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. He used to be on the elementary school track team while you… were on the bleachers trying to tell the difference between subtraction and addition. But luckily, Hyunjae was both a smart and kind kid and so he had stopped in the middle of his running to sit with you and teach what your teacher couldn’t do properly.
He was always one year older, always more mature and experienced. But he tended to throw that away just for you and join in on playing games with you when he should’ve been studying for an exam. But he did so to cheer you up. He was sweet like that and you adored spending your afternoons after school with him.
The two of you even got to experience those dreadful high school years together, except there was always that haunting realization—that he would eventually graduate first. But he always reassured you.
“It’s just one year, silly,” He joked, pulling you into a side hug, one that perfectly portrayed his understanding of your worries. “I’ll text and call you all the time. Promise.”
Promises were often broken and this wasn’t any different. For when he had left for college, he never contacted you ever again. You had tried to reach out, but he never responded. And so, for your whole college term, you never saw Lee Hyunjae, your supposed “best friend,” ever again.
And you should have been mad—no, furious to see him again. You should have pushed him away and went on with your life while skillfully avoiding him. But just the simple sight of him brought back all those fond memories–baking cupcakes, falling asleep together just after screaming over a horror movie, holding each other when life just gets too much... And so you found yourself buried into his chest, holding him tightly.
“Hyunjae,” You whispered again, shutting your eyes in both contentment and fear of him pushing you away again. 
But you felt two hands snake around your middle, hugging you back. There were a million questions running through your mind at that moment, wondering why he had disappeared but welcomed you so easily. But you set them aside, choosing to just melt into his still familiar embrace.
Finally though, you managed to pull away, looking at him with a fond smile. He smiled back. He had grown even more handsome than before. He managed to become taller, broader, and more charming all at once. His features were sharp, more mature. Something about him–the way he was dressed in a literal suit–really portrayed to you that he really was an adult now, as opposed to the teenager who procrastinated on science projects.
“How are you?” He smiled, almost too polite for your liking. You could see the way he stood, awkwardly and with fidgeting hands. And that was when it all hit you like a truck.
Your eyebrows suddenly furrowed, your lips pulled into a scowl, and your eyes narrowed as you stepped forward. “How am I? No. How could you–” You banged a fist on his firm chest. “–leave me–” Another punch. “–like that–” He stepped back in growing alarm. “–and act all polite and uneasy as if we weren’t best friends for years?” Both of your fists lingered on his chest, your strength growing weak from frustration. 
“Y/n, I–” He winced.
“Actually, I hate you.” You glared. But your words differentiated from your actions when your hand came to smooth down his crumpled tie. “I don’t want to see you ever again. You’re an absolute asshole and I–” But your eyes met with his, his gaze amused and soft. And then you sniffled, looking down at the ground, the urge to cry suddenly overcoming you.
Hyunjae laughed quietly. “I’m sorry. If you would allow me to explain?”
“Great,” You grumbled. “Then do so. Since you’ve owed me an explanation after all these years.”
He glanced at his watch. “I have work. Tomorrow, maybe? Trust me.”
You looked at him in bewilderment. “Work? But you haven’t even unpacked yet.” You eyed his apartment with the door open. There were multiple boxes strewn about, some not even open yet.
“Emergencies,” He sighed. That was when you noticed just how exhausted he looked. “I have to go.”
“Oh,” You stuttered. “Okay. I– good luck?”
Hyunjae smiled, pinching your cheek just like he had done all those years ago. He seemed to be completely unfazed over the fact that you just punched him in anger. “Thank you.” And he was locking the door behind him and heading for the elevator. But just as he was walking away, you felt the need to call something out. Just a few words.
“Hyunjae?” You said.
He turned around, tilting his head. You never knew just how well work attire suited him. He looked almost… attractive. But god, what were you thinking?
“I missed you.”
He smiled but he never quite gave you a response as the elevator ding had interrupted him. Instead, he just gave you a small wave. 
It was odd. Awkward. But one step at a time, you figured. It’s been years after all.
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The next day, as promised, he had shown up to your door. This time, since it was the weekend, he was wearing a simple white shirt. One that still never failed to accentuate his broad shoulders.
But initially, you thought it was Younghoon and not a guy who you haven’t seen for multiple years. So you may or may not have opened the door with your hair like a bird’s nest and your sleepwear on that… wasn’t meant for the general public to see. Apparently, Hyunjae fits in the general public category now. Best friend? No, you hate him.
Kind of.
Not really.
Stumbling to the door, you flung it open, your eyes barely open. Immediately, you were met with the sight of just. Long legs. Not very helpful.
“Who–” And then you looked up, only to meet Hyunjae’s eyes. Choking on your spit, you straightened up. “Hello,” You blurted out in a monotone voice.
He raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin down with amusement. “And who’s the uneasy one now?”
“Sorry, I…” Your eyes trailed down to what you were wearing. With an internal gasp, you stepped backward. “I’m going to– change.”
He widened his eyes and then his gaze also traveled down. His cheeks were oddly red and he cleared his throat, looking away.
You cringed and shut the door in his face before he could even say anything.
Now in proper clothes that were for the general public, you opened the door again. He was still standing there with that same smile. The same kind, caring one he always regarded you with even when you were just kids.
“Where should we talk?” You asked. 
His eyes glanced over to his own door. “My place?” He offered quietly. “I have unpacking to do.”
You stared at him silently. And then you nodded with an excited smile. “I can help.” 
“Oh no,” He laughed softly. “You don’t have to. I’m fine on my–”
“You don’t look fine,” You interrupted. And without thinking, your hand came up to cup his cheek, turning him to face you. “You look tired.”
He stared at you wordlessly before sighing. “I guess I am.”
“So let me help.” You grinned. “I’m using my vacation days from work right now anyway.”
He could only mutter a shy “okay” as he opened the door for you to enter. Looking around, you found that the only things that he had unpacked lacked much of any personality. He took out the necessities and a bunch of… work. Papers, a computer, work suits and the like.
“You seem busy,” You remarked as you walked over to the box labeled “decorations” only for there to literally be one single plant that looked like it needed to be watered. In fact, it was on the brink of death. Immediately, your face was contorting in worry and you turned to where he was just standing at the entrance with an embarrassed expression. “What… happened to your initial dream?”
He approached you and peered into the box. “What dream?”
“The one where you wanted to have a place full of pretty plants.”
“Yeah well,” He laughed bitterly. “Circumstances change aspirations.”
You gulped nervously at his change of tone. Something was bothering him. Something, in particular, caused him to move here. You led him to the couch and sat next to him.
“So what is it? Why did you cut everyone off and– disappear?” You asked cautiously.
He looked at you for a long minute like he was trying to figure out a response for himself. And finally, he just sighed in defeat.
“Problems.”
“Like what?” You prodded.
“A lot. And I wouldn’t want to lay them all on you.” He gave you a weak smile. You regarded him with a soft look in your eyes, searching his face for any sort of answer. All you could see was a flame that had long been put out.
“Then tell me one.”
“One?” He bit his lip nervously. “One…”
“Just one,” You said gently.
“Like the one where the place I used to work at didn’t treat me right? That they refused to give me anything?” He mumbled, his voice trailing off with embarrassment. “So I moved here so that I could get away? That one?” 
You froze at his words. You processed them and that was when it began to make sense. He wasn’t going to work yesterday. He was going to an interview. His computer was open to job openings and the papers weren’t reports. They were resumes.
“Hyunjae,” You whispered. But he was already distancing himself, standing up from the couch. You gazed at him with concern as you stood up, only for him to take a step backward.
“Why are you…” You frowned. “It’s okay, you know. Did you think I would look at you any differently?”
His jaw clenched. “Well, I did cut you off because I didn’t want to worry you. You always told me I would be successful, the best. So how exactly could I face you after they…”
“That’s not your fault. And I’m sorry for putting that on you,” You mustered, stepping closer. This time, he didn’t step away. He allowed you to do anything. He let you trail a hand down to his wrist, holding it gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me more. I’m sorry.”
He watched you with slight surprise, and with his lips pulled into a straight line, he whispered a small, “I should be the one who’s sorry.”
You shook your head with a smile. “Don’t be.”
He stayed silent at that, simply studying your features. You could tell he still wanted to apologize. But then the corner of his lips lifted slightly. “You grew up.” His tone was gentle, so kind, just like you’ve always known. It was a little quieter than before though, more closed off as if he was afraid–scared of what you would think of him.
You laughed bashfully. “And so did you.” Your hand trailed up to his shoulder. “Did you start working out?”
He smirked. “Why, do you like my progress?”
You snorted. “Could improve.”
He scoffed yet he only looked at you with fondness. The two of you simply stood there, in the midst of his empty apartment, just staring at each other. And then you giggled. He laughed as well before reaching forward and pulling you into his arms, squeezing you so tight that you felt the air leave your lungs.
“Ah–” You choked. “Hyunjae. You’re killing me.”
“I’m showing you my newfound strength,” He joked, stepping away. You were about to refute but instead, you felt your gaze wandering to his arms. Since when were they so toned and–
“Very funny,” You weakly replied. Escaping from his persisting soft gaze, you stepped away and approached the various boxes. “What can I help you with?”
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Hyunjae didn’t have much. Apparently, all those large boxes contained about three small things. 
“I overestimated,” He replied with a sheepish smile when you asked.
Most of his things were put away yet when you looked around, the apartment was void of any joy or charm. The only boxes that were left were his clothes which he claimed he could do another day. After putting away his single cup and plate–that’s all he had apparently–you turned around only to see that he was crouched, bending towards that same plant that you pointed out. Its leaves were drooping and the stem wilting, as his fingers gently prodded at it. When you looked closely, you could see a melancholy look on his face, a small frown tugging on his lips.
It was true, that Hyunjae had many dreams when he was younger. That was normal for many people. But to witness it all dissipate before your sight, no sign of light behind his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench.
Walking over, you crouched down next to him. He gave you a forced smile.
“Kind of sad,” He remarked with a disappointed sigh. “I bought it only for me to fail to take care of it.”
“You can always buy another one.”
“Mhm,” He hummed dully. “Sure.” 
You watched him wordlessly, observing the way his gaze fell when one of the leaves broke off. Shaking your head, you suddenly stood up.
“Let’s go out.”
He looked up at you in surprise. “What?”
“I’ll be your tour guide of the town,” You joked. “I know everything.”
Standing up with you, he stole a glance at his phone. “I can’t.”
“Why?” You pouted.
“I’m waiting for my result from the interview.”
You sighed and took his wrist in yours, pulling him to the door. “You need to get your mind off that for a second.”
“But–”
“Please?” You looked up at him, even batting your eyelashes. “Just for a moment?” You also exaggerated a pout.
He blinked in shock, his eyes trailing over your expression. “What are you doing?”
“Making you feel bad. Is it working?” You held back a grin.
He huffed out a laugh. “Definitely. Fine, just for a moment.”
You grinned and you were already pulling on your shoes and bounding out the door, leaving Hyunjae to smile to himself.
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“This is a convenience store.” You pointed at it with a bright smile.
He rolled his eyes. “I know what a convenience store is.”
You laughed and led him to the next block before abruptly stopping. “This is the karaoke bar,” You said, pointing at the nearby building.
“Fun,” He muttered.
“We should go one day.” You smiled. “Actually no.” You scowled. “I got drunk there once and I think they banned me because I was dancing on the tables.”
Hyunjae turned to you in slight shock. “You? Drunk?”
“What?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “What is it?”
“I just… you always said that you hated the taste of alcohol,” He replied in wonder.
“Times change.” You grinned, nudging his shoulder. He gave you a small smile back.
Then, you led him to your favorite spot. The central park in the middle of town. It was a beautiful day out, the sky bright and blue. You loved to sit at one of the benches, watching birds fly by or kids play happily on the playground. 
“Wait here.” You patted the seat. And then you were running off, nowhere to be seen. Hyunjae simply sat there, observing the calm atmosphere. When you came back, you were holding a stick of cotton candy in your hand. It was large, almost covering your whole face. Hyunjae chuckled, taking it from you so you wouldn’t trip on the ground.
“Aren’t we too old for this?” He questioned.
You shook your head. “I still love it.”
He took a bite and turned to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s so sweet.”
“That’s why it’s good!” You stared at him like he was the craziest man alive.
“It’s because you’ve always had a sweet tooth.” He frowned, gently placing it back in your hands. 
“Fine,” You scoffed. “If that’s how you treat your best friend.” And you were taking a bite on the opposite side. When you pulled it away from your face, you were startled by a loud laugh. From Hyunjae, specifically. Turning to him with wide eyes, you could even see him smiling.
It was not like the other smiles that you’ve seen so far. Those ones were small, lacking much of any emotion. But this one was wide, full with amusement and happiness.
“Wha– oh,” You huffed, realizing that there was cotton candy on your nose. Hyunjae laughed even louder and suddenly he was leaning in to gently wipe it off with his finger.
“Cutie,” He whispered fondly, his other hand gently cupping the side of your face.
Your heart stuttered at the word. “Wh-what?”
He gulped, pulling away like he was burned. “Oh, I…”
You quickly recovered, instead scooching even closer to him so that your shoulders were touching. “You think I’m cute? Even when I’m all grown up?”
“Always.”
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“I missed your smile,” You stated as the two of you were walking back to the apartment complex.
You had expected him to point out that he had smiled other times before. But instead, he gazed at you with soft eyes.
“I did too. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so happy,” He said. “All thanks to you.”
“Of course!” You beamed, looping an arm with his before pulling him closer. “You can always count on me.”
He didn’t respond this time. But his expression said it all. Thank you, thank you, thank you, was all you could see in his dark brown eyes. Smiling, you bumped your body playfully against his.
“Are you busy tomorrow?” You asked.
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Again, you found yourself in his apartment the next day. Apparently, he had just gotten back from running and he needed to take a shower. So, you were looking through his boxes full of clothes. You sorted through them, folding them until you came across a hoodie. You didn’t recognize it, but the fabric of it was so… soft and warm. Your hands held onto it, contemplating what it would feel like if you just–
The door to the bathroom creaked open. You gasped and shoved it behind you, greatly hoping that he didn’t notice you staring at it longingly. But alas, you just had to have slow reflexes at this moment.
“Do you like it?” He asked. “Put it on.” 
You laughed awkwardly, turning to face him, only for your protests to come stuttering to a stop. Your eyes trailed down from his damp hair to his… whole torso. His bare torso. He was shirtless. Right out of the shower, water droplets sitting prettily on his collarbones, traveling all the way down to his chest and his– he definitely works out. 
“Oh,” You breathed out, your cheeks flushing red as you frantically looked away. This was not how you expected to reunite with your best friend after so long. 
“Sorry,” He replied, his voice low. “My shirt’s in there.”
You nodded, refusing to look up. It was quiet for a moment, too quiet that you contemplated just shoving his clothes into his hands while dutifully avoiding the sight of his bare chest. 
But then he was right beside you and he smelled so, so good as he leaned over you, his hand gently grasping your waist. To take a shirt. Very unnecessary but it still left you inhaling sharply. Feeling yourself go dizzy as you stood there, eyes trained on the ground, and every single muscle in all of human anatomy completely rigid until you were sure he was properly dressed.
Taking a peek, you were met with his teasing smile.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” You mustered.
“You were staring weren’t you?” He leaned even closer, his eyes searching yours with amusement. His hand gently lifted your chin up, making you swallow thickly at the way he was gazing at you with a small smirk. 
“I wasn’t,” You whispered shakily.
“Hm,” He hummed. “You look a little flushed though.”
“It was nothing,” You shoved him away, feeling like your face was on fire. “You shouldn’t just walk around like that. It’s…”
“Mhm.” He only continued to smile wider. “Whatever you say.”
You groaned, abruptly turning away to hide your reddening cheeks. But then your eyes landed back on that same hoodie.
“I know that look on your face,” He teased, picking it up. “You like it.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay,” He simply replied, shrugging and turning around. You were just about to question his suspiciously short response when out of nowhere, he whipped back around and pulled the hoodie over you. Immediately, you were encompassed in warmth and– did he always smell this good? And why was he staring at you so softly with that stupid fond smile and why was your heart beating a mile a minute and–
“Hyunjae,” You groaned. “What was that for?”
But he stayed silent, simply examining you wearing his clothes. You tilted your head.
“Do I look good?”
His breath hitched and now it was him with reddening cheeks as he backed away. You stifled a laugh as you stepped forward, cornering him against the edge of the kitchen counter.
“And I know that look on your face,” You teased back. “You like it.”
His eyes fluttered, almost like he was fighting the urge to look over your body once again. He inhaled deeply and then he straightened, leaning over you this time. With a subtle smile, he whispered something that left shivers down your spine.
“I love it.”
Oh my god. You treaded backwards, suddenly feeling conscious of everything. His eyes on you–all over you–the way the shirt clung to his body, the rushing thought of the fact that you saw him without it on just a few minutes ago–everything came over you like a bucket of ice water.
“I–” With wide eyes, he only continued to approach you, the scent of his shampoo overcoming you quickly. You couldn’t come up with a comeback anymore. At first, you thought that this was just friendly banter, the type that you guys would do in the school cafeteria. But this–this was something different. With the way he was looking at you with darkening eyes, you weren’t quite sure this was that “friendly banter” thing anymore.
“Shut up,” You blurted out as you pulled the hoodie off you and thrust it into his chest.
“Why?” He grinned. “I like this game.”
You raised your eyebrows. “What game is this exactly?”
“The game of making the other person flustered.” 
You stood there for a moment, thinking. You couldn’t quite come up with a verbal comeback. So you could instead…
Taking a step forward, you hooked a hand around the back of his neck, letting your touch linger there for a moment. A stuttering breath was caught thickly in his throat as he looked down at you in bafflement.
And then you let your fingertips trail around, down his neck, across his collarbone, slightly pulling down the hem of his shirt and stopping just at his chest where you could feel his heart thump erratically.
Your trace on his skin left sparks flying in your heart and when you had looked up, you knew that Hyunjae was experiencing the same thing.
He was looking down at you, completely speechless and his eyes round in shock. You smiled in triumph, leaning close to one of his reddening ears.
“Then I win.”
And you were heading for the door. But just as you turned around, you could see Hyunjae who was still leaning against the counter, cheeks now red as he stared down at the ground. You giggled, closing the door behind you.
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The next time you saw Hyunjae, unsurprisingly, he looked exhausted again. In fact, he didn’t even recognize you at first with how he was gazing off into space rather than unlocking his own door.
“Come over tonight,” You offered.
He raised an eyebrow. “To do what?”
You choked. “Not that. Movie night!” You winked, patting his shoulder before leaving for the grocery store. You made sure to mentally add popcorn to your list.
And so, when it was pitch dark at night, you had opened your door to Hyunjae, fidgeting nervously at the entrance. You laughed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in.
“Don’t be nervous.” You grinned. “It’s just me.”
As you set up the movie, you couldn’t help but notice Hyunjae looking around your apartment. He seemed to be taking in all of your decorations, and the fact that you had more than one cup and plate. You smiled.
“We can go shopping if you want,” You spoke up. “For your apartment.”
He glanced at you in shock. But he eventually nodded with a small smile, that same one you noticed that he often forced when he was tired and down.
Now sitting on the couch, side-by-side but never quite touching, the two of you watched a movie. It was a comfortable silence and whenever you would glance at Hyunjae, he would notice and turn his attention back to you. And every time you would make eye contact, you made sure to give him a bright smile, one that showed him that “I’m always here for you.”
"Staring?" He teased.
"In fact I am," You replied. "Forget the movie, you're the award-winning feature."
He laughed again. The same bright one at the park.
"I didn't take you to be such a flirter," He remarked.
"I'm not," You refuted. "You really are amazing."
He gave you a smile that wasn't so convincing. "If you say so."
Near the resolution of the film, you found yourself scooching over to him, letting your shoulders touch. But that wasn’t exactly enough, so you lifted his arm so that you could rest your head on his chest, his body warmth easily spreading to yours.
“What are you doing?” He muttered.
For a second, you thought he might actually be annoyed. But, when you looked up, you could see his softening eyes and the slight blush on his cheeks. You huffed in amusement and you only persisted, snuggling close to his chest. Eventually, he gave up on the whole tough act and he let his arm wrap around you, rubbing your arm in up-and-down motions.
You didn’t notice that you had fallen asleep.
Though you did briefly remember two… moments. One of them was him cautiously bringing you to your bed. The other being a warm hand softly caressing your cheek.
You woke up alone. Good! Who else did you expect? Rubbing your eyes, there was a constant sound ringing in your ears. The doorbell, you groaned. Stumbling to the door, you were hoping maybe… Hyunjae? But instead, it was your landlord. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern.
She sighed, shaking her head.
“Bad news.”
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When it was Hyunjae this time who had invited you over, you were pleasantly surprised. Opening the door, you could see him sitting at the table, staring intently at his computer.
Tilting your head, you were about to ask what he was looking at. But then he suddenly jumped up, the chair almost falling over. There was a bright smile on his face as he rushed over to you.
“Hyunjae?” You looked at him in confusion.
“I got the job,” He exclaimed. “I got it.”
“You did?” You gasped. “That’s so– that’s amazing! Congratul–” You inhaled sharply when you felt two hands grasp onto your waist. And suddenly, your whole world shifted once you realized that he was literally picking you up and twirling you around. You laughed shyly as you allowed him to, watching fondly at the way he smiled so, so freely.
Once he had slowed down, there was an impending thought in the back of your mind that appeared from all of the adrenaline. He could put you down and you could lean in and maybe… maybe– press your lips to his as an extra cheer. Mentally slapping yourself, you felt your cheeks grow hot. Again, what were you thinking?
His hands were still on your waist, the both of you out of breath. You smiled, giggling softly. He smiled back, his eyes bright and sparkling.
“I’m proud of you,” You finally said.
“It’s all thanks to you,” He replied.
“Hm, well,” You huffed. “Guess who lost their apartment.”
He gaped at you. “What?”
“Not permanently,” You groaned. “But there’s been a technical problem that has to be investigated and fixed. So I can’t stay there for the meantime.”
He looked at you, deep in thought. And then his hands tightened on your waist. “Then stay here with me.”
Now it was your turn to gawk at him. “What?”
“Please.” He smiled. “I owe you.”
You blushed. “I didn’t do much.”
“You did.” He walked forward, nearly caging you against the wall. “Everything. You’ve helped me get this job.” Another step forward. “I’m indebted to you.”
“H-hyunjae,” You stuttered, trying your best to avoid stealing a glance at his lips.
“Just temporarily.”
You made a mental pro and con list. Pros–He was your childhood best friend meaning that he knew you best. Cons–what if things changed? What if you… fell? And you didn’t mean physically.
With a hesitant sigh in defeat, you responded quietly. 
“Temporarily.”
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When you and Hyunjae had art class together, you learned a little bit more about him. He was always the one who enjoyed the sketching, the outlining with the black pen, and shading in grey. You, on the other hand, were the one who would color in between those lines with vibrant colors, brightening the picture into something truly complete. 
That was how you complimented each other. People often painted him out to be cold and blunt, but you always saw past that. It was always you who thought that he was the sweetest person you’ve ever met–the one who took care of you when you were sick and who pulled you away from passing cars.
Just like one of those art projects, you began to liven up his apartment with your own things. Of course, you didn’t bring everything, but the simple pieces of your toothbrush next to his and your coat hung up on the rack, were enough to make the puzzle feel just complete.
Soon enough, the evening came which brought the dilemma of where you would sleep.
“The couch,” Hyunjae spoke up, walking out of the bathroom again, with damp hair. But at least he was fully clothed this time. Still, that vision was practically ingrained into your mind.
“You’re right.” You nodded in agreement. “I’ll–”
“Not you,” He huffed. “Me.”
“Oh,” You breathed out. Abruptly you stood up in defiance. “No!” You blurted out. “That’s rude.”
He looked at you entirely unimpressed. “I’m being a good host. A gentleman.”
“Exactly.” You scowled. “You’re going to make me feel like I’m intruding. And look who invited me in the first place?”
He sighed, glancing at the bedroom door. “There’s only one bed.”
“Then we’ll share,” You replied, completely sure of yourself. Hyunjae didn’t respond so you lifted your chin high and walked past him and into the bedroom as odd as it may sound. However, in the corner of your eye, you could see that his ears were slightly red.
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You may have underestimated the sheer awkwardness. Just a bit. Maybe a lot.
The two of you stood on either side of the bed, facing each other, contemplating the fact that this would be the first time you would be sleeping together. Actually, it wasn’t really awkward per se. It was more… hilarious. You pursed your lips, trying to stifle your laughter, while Hyunjae’s cheeks were puffed out in embarrassment.
Again, as the bolder one, you climbed under the sheets first. Still, Hyunjae was just standing, hesitating. You squinted up at him through the darkness. 
Even under the dim lighting, you could see that his cheeks were incredibly flushed. 
“I think I’ll just go back to the–” He couldn’t even finish his sentence because you were grabbing onto his hand and pulling him down into bed. He didn’t really protest though as you could sense him slowly melting into the warmth of it.
The lamp was off now and you were both succumbed to darkness. It was silent, only the sound of Hyunjae’s calm breathing. You weren’t exactly tired right now. You knew that it would take you a while to fall asleep. But that was fine! You would just wait until he fell asleep first.
Except, when you turned on your side to face him, you could see him staring back, big, round doe eyes on you. So, scratch that. And now you were cold which you weren’t used to. Your apartment was usually the perfect temperature, but this one left you shivering all over.
Unconsciously, you began to shift closer to his body. He’s always been the warm one. That used to be your strategy to not freeze to death when the two of you would walk down the winter festival together.
Suddenly though, you felt an arm across your waist and steady breathing on the side of your neck.
“Hm?” You hummed in confusion, wondering if the chest against your shoulder was just a hallucination. 
But then he replied in a quiet, lower voice.
“Is this okay?” He whispered.
Oh, this was more than okay. You were familiar with his embrace. But to feel it just moments before you fell asleep brought a sudden bout of tranquility.
“Perfect.” You smiled to yourself, curling up to his body in which he held you closer in response. It was warm, comforting, just perfect. It didn’t take you a while to fall asleep anymore. 
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When you awoke, you were slightly—no, very confused about why it was still dark out. You were pretty sure the room should be bright with natural light from the sun. Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. But that was when you glanced at the time. It was still the middle of the night.
When you turned to your side, that was also when you realized that it was Hyunjae who had woken you up. Unknowingly at that. His arm was still around your waist but this time, his hold was almost painfully tight. If you looked closely, you could see that his eyes were screwed shut, his eyebrows twitching with small stuttering breaths escaping him.
But, you’ve always heard the saying that you weren’t supposed to wake someone up from a nightmare. So you hesitated, keeping your hands close to yourself, worriedly watching. At some point, he jolted awake by himself.
Now, his breathing was even faster and he had shot up, looking around frantically. Blinking your eyes sleepily, you turned on the nearby light and sat up with him.
“Hyunjae?” You whispered, looking him over in concern.
He turned to you in a growing distraught state and he widened his eyes. “Are you–”
“It’s just me,” You muttered. “Bad dream?”
Hyunjae froze for a moment but he slowly nodded. And usually, it was you who initiated the hugs. But this time, he was the one who lunged forward, holding you close to his chest. His hands grasped onto you tightly as he buried his nose into your neck.
With the way he was holding you so tightly, so… desperately, you wondered if this had happened before. But still, you allowed him to just hold you close, your own arms coming around to gently pat his back.
You didn’t know when, but he eventually pulled away. He refused to look you in the eye and so you brought a gentle hand to the side of his face, coaxing him to face you.
“How long has this been going on for?” You frowned.
He shut his eyes. “A while.”
Your heart clenched at his quiet response. For the past few days, you had thought he was feeling better, less exhausted. But behind the bedroom door, it must be different.
“Do you… want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know…” He trailed off.
“You don’t have to tell me–”
“...what they’re about.”
“Oh,” You breathed. “The nightmares?”
He nodded with tired eyes. “But while I was gone–away from you–people I’ve loved, everything I’ve cherished seemed to disappear before my eyes. It wasn’t just work it was… a lot.” His voice was quiet, hard to hear but it was loud enough that you could hear each and every heart-twisting emotion.
You stayed silent, your hand finding his to stroke the back of it soothingly.
“I felt hopeless.” He frowned. “I guess those nightmares felt like I was reliving that all over again.”
He didn’t say anything after that. You watched him cautiously, wondering what exactly to do. But then you felt his hand tighten on yours slightly and that was your cue to shift even closer.
He glanced at you with an ashamed expression that only made the pit in your stomach drop even more. Slowly, slow enough so that he could back away if he wanted to, you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close against you. Almost instantly, he was breathing out a low sigh of relief as he nuzzled even further into your embrace.
“You’re not alone anymore,” You whispered. “And… thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
He didn’t say anything, but when he held you back, it was a perfect answer. The two of you stayed like that, in the dead of night, just holding each other until you began to feel drowsy from his warmth. It wasn’t the first time that you’ve done so. The only difference was that it was always you who needed that extra piece of comfort. It was never Hyunjae. Seeing him open up was different but something that you were most grateful for.
“I never replied to you the day we met in the hallway,” He spoke, interrupting your thoughts. 
You pondered for a moment, recalling the memory. “When I said that I missed you?”
He nodded. “I didn’t reply because I was afraid you would still be mad at me for leaving you so abruptly.”
You smiled softly and shook your head, your hand coming up to the back of his head to stroke his hair soothingly. His eyes widened slightly in shock but he quickly melted into your touch. “I was angry at first.”
He laughed quietly, though his voice was watery with unfallen tears.
“But now I’m not,” You whispered. “I promise. I’m just happy to see you again.”
He pulled away to look up at you, searching your face to make sure that you were telling the truth. When you only gazed back with utmost sincerity, he let a small smile tug on his lips.
“I missed you,” He had finally replied, answering your statement from before. “More than you know. It was hard without you.”
Your gaze softened once you noticed the sparkle of a few tears in his eyes and when he blinked, your sleeve was immediately coming up to pat his cheek, drying the ones that had broken free.
“I missed you too,” You responded and gently, you were pulling him back into bed. And this time, without hesitation, he was hooking both of his arms around you, tightening you into his chest.
“...so much,” He muttered sleepily. “I missed you so much.”
“You have me now.”
“Always.” And you felt his hand grasp yours, guiding it to where his heart was, thumping in a soothing rhythm. “In here.”
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You were the first one to wake up. It seemed that Hyunjae’s nightmare and tears had left him too exhausted to even notice you unwrapping yourself from his protective embrace. And so, you took it as your duty to cook something decent for him to wake up to.
Except maybe Hyunjae did notice because he opened the door shortly after. You probably should have placed a pillow in his arms before you left. He walked out and you had to stop yourself from cooing because that would be a little bit… weird. But you couldn’t help it because the sight of his hair tousled and messy, his eyes barely opened and puffy from the tears, and his lips pouted adorably, left you smiling with endearment.
“Morning sleepyhead.” You grinned, turning the stove on. 
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he shuffled over to where you were standing behind the kitchen counter. 
You tilted your head in amusement, wondering how he managed to navigate with his eyes barely open. “Are you feeling better?”
Again, still no response. You watched as he circled the counter, positioning himself behind you. And then you gasped quietly once you registered the strong arms that enveloped your waist, pulling you into a warm hug, your back now pressed up against his chest. You could even feel his nose nuzzling into the back of your neck, breathing deeply.
You simply just froze, unable to do anything. Once you realized he wasn’t going to move anytime soon, you turned the stove off and simply allowed him to hug you to his heart’s content. He let out a sleepy hum. Or was it a whine?
“You’re clingy in the morning,” You mused.
“Mhm.” Even his morning voice was cute.
And when you said sleepy, you meant it. Literally–you were pretty sure he fell asleep while back-hugging you in the middle of the kitchen. You practically had to hold on to the counter to brace his weight and when you stole a glance over your shoulder, you had to stifle a laugh. His cheek was smushed into your shoulder and his eyes shut in content.
“O–kay,” You heaved, forcing your body to turn around. And still, he would have almost collapsed into you if you hadn’t planted your hands on his shoulders to hold him up. His head lolled to the side as he peeked an eye open to look at you drowsily.
You chuckled and your hand came up to his hair to ruffle it. Immediately, he was leaning into your touch and when your hand traveled down to cup his cheek, he was nuzzling into it like a puppy.
“I missed you,” He slurred, his voice huskier than usual.
“Mm, you said that already,” You hummed teasingly, a smile threatening to spread across your lips. “Hyunjae.”
“Hm?” He smiled lazily.
“You’re acting drunk and it’s like–” You glanced at the clock. “Seven in the morning.”
“And what about it? I missed you,” He grumbled, an adorable frown on his lips.
“Ah,” You sighed, shaking your head. “Go splash water on your face, you dummy. Then you’ll wake up properly.”
He still didn’t budge. And so, using every single ounce of your strength, you had to carry him all the way to the bathroom as he was still clinging onto you like a koala.
After a few minutes, with the sound of the bathroom sink splashing in the background, you finally managed to start cooking something. But then the door clicked open and you looked up. Hyunjae, his eyes finally open, was blushing so hard that you couldn’t even conceal your laugh anymore.
“Missed me?” You remarked.
He winced in response, his cheeks continuing to flame red.
“I don’t know what got into me,” He muttered, refusing to look you in the eye.
You beckoned him over and he finally looked up at you shyly.
“It was cute,” You teased. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”
“And what else?” He quickly recovered.
Your breath hitched. Ah, you thought. There he was. The usual Hyunjae when he was fully awake. The one who loved to tease you until you were blushing and hiding your face. 
“Don’t do this again,” You groaned.
“Do what?”
“That.”
“You’ll have to elaborate on that, sweetheart.”
You raised an eyebrow at the nickname, completely unfazed. But when your eyes traveled down, that was when you realized just how close he was. He continued to lean forward until he was caging you against the counter, both of his hands on either side of you. It wasn’t the flirting that got you, it was his body encompassing you so, so effortlessly, making you feel smaller than you really were. 
He chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”
Oh, this is definitely how best friends act. You were one hundred percent sure about that. 
He smirked, tilting his chin down, as his hand traveled from the edge of the counter down to your hip. 
Fifty percent. 
His eyes wandering elsewhere–somewhere along the lines of your lips.
One percent.
“The breakfast is going to burn,” You stuttered.
He simply licked his lips, his gaze fixated on yours.
“I can always try something else.”
You were screwed.
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The first day of Hyunjae’s new job was the very last day of your brief vacation from work. With a sigh, you scrolled through the shows and movies, only for you to ultimately turn off the TV in boredom. You weren’t going to beat around the bush and refuse to admit that you felt lonely without him. Of course, you saw him in the morning, already dressed in a suit (that fit amazingly on him, dare you add), but it was only for a short moment.
He still had nightmares but they were becoming less and less frequent. Sometimes, when they happened, you would just pull him closer and he would immediately relax with a small sigh, almost like you had the superpower to eliminate his night terrors.
And sleeping together never was awkward again. In fact, you adequately enjoyed it–his arms around you and vice versa. Did best friends regularly cuddle at night and gaze at each other for so long that your heartbeat started to speed up? That… you weren’t quite sure about.
Yawning, you found yourself lying down, spreading across the couch. You didn’t even do much today yet your eyes still threatened to shut close.
At some point, you blinked your eyelids open once you heard the door unlocking. Sitting up, you smiled softly at the sight of Hyunjae opening the door. His tie was already loose and his hair was blown up from the wind. Squinting your eyes, you then noticed that he was practically stumbling into the entrance, almost like all of his coordination had dissipated. 
His eyes were droopy and his lips pouted from what you would guess to be exhaustion. Everyone’s first day of work was like that. You watched as he set down his work bag and walked over to you, very… very slowly.
“How was work?” You questioned, looking up at him.
And just like last time, he didn’t respond. Silently, he leaned forward and literally–very literally–laid on top of you. His body weight pulled you back down to lie on the couch and his arms were snaking around you as his legs tangled with yours. Speechless, you felt as he nuzzled back into your neck, just like he’s begun to do so often now.
“You look gorgeous today,” He whispered, his voice very oddly slurred.
Your breath hitched. “Are you drunk?”
He looked up at that and you practically choked on air once you realized how close his face was to yours. And then he smiled languidly and shook his head.
“Are you sure?” You searched him for any sign–red cheeks, the scent of the alcoholic drink–yet you couldn’t find any. 
“I’m just tired,” He mumbled, planting his face back into the crook of your neck.
“Okay,” You laughed. Gently, your hand came up to his broad back to rub it in circles, the material of the suit rough and honestly quite unsatisfying. But still, you persisted once you felt his tense muscles slowly soften. Slowly though, you came to a stop. “Hyunjae.”
“Hm?” He hummed.
“You need to take a shower,” You huffed. “C’mon.” With all of your power, you pushed him up and off you. Again, his head tilted to the side with a tired smile. You laughed and shoved him until he finally obliged and went off to the bathroom.
Meanwhile, you were left there, contemplating his strange behavior. He never acted this clingy before. Not even for the years that you’ve known him. It was only after that particular night that he started to… do this.
When he was done showering, he stepped out. You had hoped that he would be more awake now, but it seemed he was even drowsier than before–too tired to even dry his own hair. With a click of your tongue, you motioned him over to sit down. Like a puppy, his eyes brightened at the sight of you as he obediently followed.
“You’ll catch a cold,” You ridiculed with a worried frown.
After finding a towel, you stepped in between his legs. Carefully, you began to dry his damp hair, marveling at the way his hair curled up after a shower. You rubbed his scalp, making your way around and behind his ears. When you peeked at his expression, you stifled a laugh at the way he basically fell asleep under your touch.
Once you deemed his hair dry enough, you were about to walk away but instead, he abruptly stood up, swaying slightly. And then he fell forward, pulling you into a warm embrace.
You smiled fondly. “Tired?”
It seems that when Hyunjae was tired, he never answered any of your questions, funnily enough. A lot of his answers were just “I missed you” or a small hum. But this… this answer was different. It was spoken so quietly, so softly yet it perfectly resonated through your ears. 
“I love you.”
Before you could even say anything or really do anything, he was reluctantly pulling away and heading to the bedroom. Your lips parted as your eyes fixated on absolutely nothing. Just– space. Your whole body had gone rigid as you simply stood there, processing his words. You couldn’t even blink. 
Best friends… say that too, don’t they?
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It started to become a pattern for the whole first week of his new job. When he was actually fully awake, he told you that the work was demanding yet he never looked so happy and content. Sometimes, you wondered what his past work was like, but you never prodded.
But, because the work was just so demanding, every single day, from Monday to Friday, he came home exhausted. And any person would expect him to just head straight for bed. But like you said, it was a pattern, a usual thing, that he would cling on to you. Apparently, something had shifted in him. Originally, when you saw him exhausted, he would become closed off. But after… that night, he acted almost intoxicated. Not on a drink. But simply off being tired.
You found it endearing actually. His voice was always quieter and he often stumbled over his words this way. His eyes were dazed and soft on yours and he also became ten times heavier as he liked to lay all of his weight on you when he pulled you into a hug. He constantly just seemed to be in a completely different mindset–one that was very… loving and… yeah– different.
He liked to say things too. Slurred and quiet, but he still very clearly said them. You could never figure out if he meant them or if he was just tired and rambling things for the fun of it.
He said “I misssed you” a lot. Occasionally, he would blurt out that you looked pretty or beautiful. Or, it would be a small “hi” accompanied by a shy smile. Sometimes, if he was too tired to say much, he would just giggle over nothing in particular. But… there was one specific phrase that he would say out of the blue.
“I love you.”
That one always left you perplexed. It could be a… platonic thing to say, right? Where did the word “love” come from? You didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t help but feel some sort of spark of light in the very depths of your heart.
It was weird, really. An out-of-this-world, alien-like thing for a best friend to say. The words I, love, and you arranged in that particular order were never syllables Hyunjae ever let fall from his lips. He never spent any particular ounce of breath to say them. 
Yet now he did.
For some odd reason.
But again, he was just tired. Surely.
And just like before, the pattern started all over again. The week was coming to a close so maybe you wouldn’t hear those words again after this. But you didn’t really mind altogether. With a tired sigh, you walked out of the room, now changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable.
Right on cue, the main door was unlocking, and once again, the pattern began to unweave itself. He would walk in, with the occasional misstep and stumble. And like usual, he looked tired. Though, you envied his ability to still look… attractive. And then he would look up, search for a particular someone, and do that stupidly lazy smile–the one where his eyes weren’t focused on anything but you.
“What are you doing here?” He giggled–he giggled now, apparently.
You eyed him, completely apathetic. “You let me stay here temporarily, remember?”
He blinked at you with an adorable pout. And then he nodded. “You’re right.” He smiled. “Aren’t you smart?” He pinched your cheek. 
Scowling, you wrestled his hands off. And for the first time this week, you finally decided to question his bizarre behavior.
“Why are you acting like this?” You whined, holding him up by his arms so he wouldn’t fall over you like he had done the day before.
“Because I missed you,” He grumbled, his eyes struggling to stay open. “Now let me–”
“Agh,” You groaned. But still, your hands fell to your sides as you let him wrap his arms around your torso, bringing you close to his chest. Whatever made him happy, was your motive. And totally not, I secretly enjoy this.
It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of his slow breathing against your earlobe. For a minute, you worried that he had fallen asleep already, but he spoke again.
“Have I mentioned how uncomfortable this suit is?” He mumbled. “It’s very hot and–”
You didn’t even say anything. With a sigh–one that wasn’t particularly annoyed, but more… doting–you stepped away. He stared at you in both drowsiness and slight confusion, but his eyes slowly widened once he realized that you were taking off the jacket for him. Gently, you pulled it off his shoulders and down his arms, your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration.
He was quiet, simply watching as your fingers grasped his tie, unloosening it with a sharp pull, causing him to lurch forward, his lips startlingly close to yours. 
“Interesting,” He teasingly remarked, but his voice was still slurred.
“Shut up,” You snapped yet there was no malice behind your tone.
Your hands then came up to his collar, unbuttoning the first few buttons to reveal slightly past his collarbones which… you’ve already accidentally witnessed before. With a friendly pat on his shoulder, you deemed him undressed enough. He slowly turned his gaze to you and your breath hitched at the sight– his work attire now loose with his hair slightly messy… ah. Not to mention, his tilted head and sleepy expression that only made things worse.
Clearing your throat, feeling your cheeks burn, you scrambled off somewhere to shove a change of clothes into his hands and left abruptly, your heart thumping. Soon enough–you didn’t know when because you were busy contemplating all of your feelings and the meaning of life–he walked into the bedroom. Undoing the made bed, you motioned him to climb in. Obediently, he followed and you pulled the blankets over him.
“Y/n,” He muttered, grasping your wrist before you could walk away.
“Hm?”
“...love you,” He whispered.
Again, he was just rambling. He was just saying things. He had stumbled over his words and his voice was quiet, so that meant that he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean any of it. It was all fake–
“I love you,” He repeated—clearer, louder this time without an inch of hesitation. And this time, he was looking straight up at you, his cheeks slightly pink, flushed.
Maybe it was more real than you had thought.
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The first week was over, meaning Hyunjae was more situated at work and most importantly, less exhausted. On the first day of his new, non-intoxicated-on-fatigue persona, he had simply greeted you and strolled past. You wouldn’t admit it fully to him but that simple interaction that did better fit what you guys were–best friends–left you feeling empty inside.
But it was fine. It was just a one-week thing.
Until it wasn’t.
The next day, the pattern appeared again, but it wasn’t… like before.
He was fully awake this time yet he still–
“Hyunjae?” You stammered. The arms wrapped around your waist tightened further as he stood behind you, hooking his chin over your shoulder, and breathing out a low sigh. And now that he was newly… conscious, he did more. His hands began to wander over you in soothing shapes and he pressed his chest further against your back.
“Just stay here with me.” 
You could see his soft smile in the corner of your eye. With a bothered huff, you glanced back at him, only for you to inhale sharply at how close he actually was and how… nice his cologne smelt. Oh, and his hands were still wandering.
“I thought you only acted like this when you’re tired?”
He shook his head, shifting even closer, his warmth encompassing you comfortingly.
“Do you want to know something about me?”
“I know a lot about you,” You joked.
But he was quiet, a serious silence befalling the two of you. You gulped and whispered a small “what is it?”
You could hear him huff out in amusement, his hands never failing to leave your waist. “While I was away–when I was at my lowest–I thought of someone all those years.”
And for some reason, you knew exactly what the answer was. 
But still, your voice tremored. “Who?”
A squeeze on your waist.
“You.”
Shutting your eyes, you breathed out a shaky sigh and looked down to where he was still hugging you from behind. Your heart was thumping and you were sure he could hear you. And even if he could make out the pounding, he never budged once. Not once did he stop tightening his arms around you and not once did he cease to bury his nose somewhere into your skin, leaving shivers down your spine.
With your heartbeat practically reaching your ears, you nudged him and turned around so that now, you were facing him. Without his dazed, sleepy look, it was just his soft eyes and the slightest tug of his lips, an endeared smile. Without his exhaustion that often left him sluggish, it was just his firm, stronger arms that held you so easily.
“Hyunjae,” You whispered. 
“Sweetheart,” He replied, his voice gentle and content. And before, you wouldn’t have paid a single ounce of attention to that nickname because it just seemed like how best friends would fool around. But now… things were different and you weren’t sure how exactly. And so the name sweetheart now left your cheeks flushing.
You swallowed thickly, your breath shortening. “Do you know how much you confuse me?”
His smile only grew. “Elaborate on that.” A pause. “Sweetheart.”
You sighed, biting your lip with mortification. “That. The nickname.”
“Sweetheart? You never said you didn’t like it, I can stop if you want—“
“Don’t!” You rushed to say. You blushed more once you realized he was teasing you again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Not just the nickname. Everything.”
“Like what?” He stepped closer if that was even possible.
You gazed up at him and you were sure you looked frustrated right now, judging by his fond smile. He always said you looked cute when mad.
“You say that you miss me all the time.”
“Because I do.” He dipped his head lower to look at you with those foolish, puppy-like eyes. “I think of you whenever I’m at work.”
“But,” You exhaled shakily. “Do you realize that you say something else?” 
You were sure he wasn’t aware. He didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind whenever he was exhausted. So maybe, he would just stare at you in utter confusion, deny it, and this whole… feeling fiasco would be done and dealt with. But then—
“That I love you?”
Your lips parted in surprise and you peered up at him, wondering if he was just taking a wild guess. But no, the soft, genuine look on his face said it all.
“You… knew?” You stuttered.
“Of course I did,” He chuckled softly. “And I meant every single one.”
Eyebrows furrowing, you stepped backward from shock. As you avoided his eyes, you missed the nervousness and the unsureness that flitted across his face. But, just that one step away left chills down your body–as if being away from Hyunjae and his embrace wasn’t even natural anymore.
And so you stepped forward again. Immediately, you could hear a low sigh of relief escape Hyunjae’s lips and feel his hands snake back around your waist protectively. You weren’t sure what expression was on his face though, as you were very adamant on staring directly at his tie–his chest. You knew that he could still see your reddening cheeks, but you still preferred not to look him in the eye. 
“That,” He said quietly. “You’re also quite confusing too.”
“Wh-what?” 
“Stepping away and stepping back,” He spoke softly. “Looking me in the eye but refusing to when I say that I love you.” One of his hands left your waist to gently guide your chin up. “So look at me now.” 
“I…” You trailed off, feeling yourself go weak just from his soft, loving gaze.
“And one more thing.” He tilted his head teasingly.
A pause. A great moment of silence.
“You don’t say it but you show it.”
“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, your heart beating like a loud, intense drum.
“I wasn’t completely unaware.” He smirked. His hand had already left your chin and found its place back to your waist, yet you found yourself staring straight into his dark eyes, stuck in a trance. “I know that you dried my hair with a towel–that you even undressed me. I know that you took care of me.”
You did do that all on your own accord, simply because you thought that you were being a perfectly good friend. But now that you thought about it–you didn’t have to. You could have easily pushed him off, and told him to do everything on his own but you didn’t. And it was all because you–
“So tell me then,” He whispered, his voice quiet–only for you to hear, almost like he wanted you all to himself. “What are we?”
You held your breath, your cheeks growing hot. Your hands rested on his chest and you could feel his heart pound, exactly like yours. He felt the same, you realized. With a shaky sigh, you gazed up at him.
“What do you want us to be?”
He hummed, a soft smile on his lips. “What do I want?” 
He slightly reworded your question and you wondered why. But you nodded, your eyes studying his features. His handsome features. They were sharp when you had met him in that hallway. But his keen eyes, the angle of his eyebrows, his perpetual frown–they were just soft, soft on you. No longer was there a frown, but just an affectionate smile.
“What do you want?” You repeated his question, your voice hushed to a whisper.
He leaned in, his gaze warm and gentle, his eyes wandering over each and every detail of your face.
“I want to love you.”
You had expected to inhale sharply, gasp maybe–but no. Because everything made sense to you now. His kind words, his soft and fleeting touches across your body, it all pointed to one thing. And so, instead, you smiled shyly.
“Then love me.”
And just like that, his grip on your hips tightened and he turned you around so that your back was facing the door. He was walking you backward until you felt the hard surface against your shoulder blades and he was leaning down, close enough that if he inched further, he would be kissing you. But he didn’t–not yet.
“May I?” He muttered, looking over you with slight concern. 
You nodded, embarrassingly with a bit too eagerness. He laughed softly and then he was fitting his lips against yours as your eyes fluttered closed. The press of it was gentle and tender as he tilted your chin up and angled himself so that it was more comfortable. The kiss was unlike any that you’ve experienced before. It was like the tension that had built up before had completely broken down, as you allowed yourself to just fall.
Fall, physically, almost because you felt your knees go weak, with only the door behind you to hold you up. But his hand traveled back down to your waist, hooking you in against his body, keeping you steady as he muffled a groan against your lips. You couldn’t hear anything but his breathing and the thumping of your own heart. 
All you could think of was him–how he could so easily change from rough to soft, how he could push forward so quickly but pull away so easily to allow you a gasp of breath, and how he could make your heart pound yet lull it into a steady rhythm of love. He kissed like he could devour you, but if you decided to peek an eye open, you would see his adorably furrowed eyebrows and his flushed cheeks, showing that he wasn’t anything like that.
He was just a man who needed a bit of a sweetener in his life.
With a quiet noise, he pulled away. Immediately, his eyes searched over your features, making sure that you were okay and that he didn’t do too much. But, when you gave him a smile, your eyes flitting nervously, he grinned and leaned in to grant you another soft kiss.
“How long?” You laughed shyly.
“I came to the realization when you tried to cheer me up whenever I was tired. But I think I’ve already felt this way for a while.” He replied. He pinched your cheek again. “All those dates and extra care that you gave me…very cute thing to do.”
Your eyes went wide. “You… noticed?”
“I notice a lot of things, sweetheart,” He teased. “Like how you’re grabbing onto my suit to pull me into a kiss right now.”
“O-oh,” You stammered, letting go of his crumpled collar. “I didn’t realize I–”
He shook his head and before you could finish your sentence, he was cupping your cheek–something that he’s never done before–and guiding you back to his lips. And this time, his tongue swiped against your lip, making you gasp quietly.
“You taste like candy.” His gaze fixated on your lips.
“I didn’t know you could…” You had to stop for a second to catch your breath. And it wasn’t just because of his exceptional kissing, but it was the beat of your heart, of all of your love. “...you could kiss like that.”
“What can I say?” He tilted his head with a teasing look. “I guess I have a sweet tooth.”
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“Trust me on this,” Younghoon whined. “I followed the instructions to the very dot. They’ll taste good. Promise.”
You eyed him skeptically but still, you picked up one of the cookies that he had baked. They looked a little… off, but it should be fine. Taking a bite, you took note of the odd texture, and then the taste started to register on your tongue.
You coughed. You choked. And then you threw the cookie back on the plate. 
“Bitter,” You gagged. “It’s so bitter.”
“What?” He cried. “Are you kidding me–”
Your eyes lit up once you remembered your boyfriend who was sitting next to you on the couch. He was busy on his computer, doing some sort of work report but you ignored that, turning to him and grasping his collar tightly. You pulled him in, pressing your lips to his, causing him to let out a small “mmph” in surprise.
But almost instantly, he turned into jelly from your touch, a smile growing on his lips as his eyes fluttered close. He had tried to deepen it desperately but you pulled away shortly after, leaving him to chase after your lips adorably.
Younghoon gawked. “I’m right here.”
“So?” You shrugged, smiling innocently. “At least he tastes sweet.”
“Oh my god,” Younghoon mumbled, getting up to throw the cookies into the garbage can. 
Meanwhile, Hyunjae was staring at you in a daze, his cheeks flushed. But, he quickly recovered and he was quick to pounce on you, pressing kisses all over you once Younghoon had left.
“A warning next time would be great.”
He was now hovering over you on the couch, caging you under his arms and his computer long forgotten. The position left you flushing but it was also the perfect one to knee him in the stomach.
He winced in pain. "What was that for?"
"A warning, you said," You mocked. "When literally yesterday you kissed me up against a wall in your own workplace."
"That's an exception." He smirked. "You liked it, didn't you?"
"I..." You blushed, remembering the way he had kissed you so fervently, dressed in that suit and tie, the thrill of getting caught still running through your veins. "It was alright."
"Sure, sweetheart," He whispered in a teasing tone. He looked annoying handsome like this, with that amused smile that contrasted his soft, loving gaze. "Then I'll make sure you like this one."
Oh, how you despised him.
And then his lips were on yours again, swallowing up any shy noises that threatened to escape you. But just before he did, he had whispered three quiet words against your lips.
"I love you."
And how you loved him too.
331 notes · View notes
lalachat · 4 months
Text
"And there you were..."
Author's note: "Hey... how y'all doinnnnn?"
I am so sorry for my radio silence! Life just got so busy that I unfortunately lost motivation to write. I swear to you all I looked at Chapter 8 so many times, but had no inspo and got writer's block. However, I woke up on the right side of the bed today and the cauldron said to me, "get that shit done girl!" And I did! I DID THAT THANG! Wrote my first real smut ever! Please go easy on me, writing has been difficult, but I see all of your overwhelmingly positive comments and it just fills my heart❤️ I will try my best to keep updating this story, not to the extent I was when I first started, but I promise to try to get more out. Y'all finally get to see the autumn court rumor in motion, eheheh🔥
Summary: After an eventful day of emotional turmoil, you find Lucien waiting for you in your bedroom to talk things through, bestie to bestie. However, one thing leads to another and you are stuck in the bathroom with the autumn court male as he questions you about the all known rumor...
This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️
Warnings: profanity, potential grammatical errors, and last but not least SMUT, 18+ for this chapter, I warned you👀
Word Count: ≈ 4,809
Chapter 8:  Just Like the Old Days
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Chapter 8: 
“So, who is buying us drinks?” Lucien asked. 
“Out of all the things to say to me right now, you chose that?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. 
“We can't have him getting the wrong orders,” he smirked as he walked over to you by the door. You rolled your eyes at his response. 
“Only you could say something like that in this moment,” you paused waiting for a response from him. You hear him let out a strained breath. 
“Are you okay?” He asked. 
“Yes, no thanks to you,” you swat his bicep, but he grabs your hand before you manage to hit him. He looks at you inquisitively. You shouldn't have said that last part. It really was not his fault, but gods did it still pain you to see him and Elain. 
“Y/n look,” he looks at where your hands met, “Every bone in my body wanted me to run after you-” 
“Then why didn't you?!” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you aren’t going to let them.  
“Because of our mate's y/n! Elain needed me for the first time in her life, and when you ran Azriel was quick to follow you... I saw two different pairs of mates needing the other! I thought it’d be best... I am sorry if I was wrong,” he said as he started to trace circles along the back of your hand. 
“Lucien you are the only being I'm so close with, I needed you!” you glanced at your hands and could feel his warmth seeping through your skin. 
“Well, I am here now.” He looked up into your eyes. They were full of promise and sincerity. This right here is why this male deserved the world. He has so much love for those that are important to him. Even through everything that has happened recently, he has found a way to help both you and Elain. 
You hum, “I can see that now.”  
“So, can I ask why you run?” He asked. You could feel yourself faltering... You could not tell him the real reason. You just wanted to back away into a corner instead of having this conversation.  
“I had to get away from Elain-” you half told the truth. He does not need to know that your mind and body craves his touch when he just got Elain into his life. He also does not need to know you and Azriel were cuddled up on the floor together.
Lucien sensed your hesitancy in not really wanting to talk about it yet, so he didn't push the matter any further.  
“How was Elain?” You figured you should at least ask him. 
“We had a suitable time, I think? You know, I really do not know! That woman is harder to talk to than Nesta! Her vocabulary is, “please, thank you, and if you wish,” THAT IS IT! Shes so damn polite it is almost nauseating.” He said as you giggled when he tried to mimic Elain’s voice. 
“Oh, you poor thing, having to act all gentlemanly. What did you two even do?” you smirked at him. 
“Wipe that smirk off your face! We did nothing, I was so scared my breathing would run her off. All we did was sit on the couch as I read her poems.” He explained. 
“Sounds riveting,” rolling your eyes playfully.
“I am unsure how I feel about it. She is so distant and proper with me, cozy and social with Azriel, and with you she is- what's the word I'm looking for?” He rubbed his temples.  
“I think the term you're looking for is heinous bitch?” you glanced up at him. 
“That works I guess,” he shrugged. “I really do not know what she was so upset about when she was kissing Azriel not too long ago. A little hypocritical, if you ask me.” 
“Does she know you know they kissed?” you asked.  
“I do not think so, it is for the best I keep to myself for now. I cannot go yelling at her for kissing him when you and I were up against the wall earlier.” He shrugged as you completely forgot you and him were one wrong decision away from fucking each other ruthlessly.  
You grew nervous. Azriel and Elain have been together longer than your current reunion with your friend. It is possible they could have a more serious relationship than just that kiss you two saw.  
“Do you think they have had sex?” you asked nervously. 
“You think they have?” Lucien’s eyes were darkening. Probably from jealousy but fuck- is that attractive. 
“I really cannot tell... It is always the quiet and innocent ones that are always doing things beyond belief,” you sighed. Could they really be having sex with each other? 
“We should spy on them and find out.”  
“You want to spy on them having sex? Y/n if you are a voyeur just say so,” he looked you over, “I always knew you had a hidden kinky side.” 
“Lucien, would you sit down! That is not what I meant! I meant we should get to know about their relationship more, figure out what we are both up against. Knowing how close they have gotten can be a gauge on how much hope is left for us.” you said. You figured if Azriel’s shadows had an attachment to you there was still a glimmer of hope! Besides, Lucien and Elain obviously have a small connection from what you saw in the library.  
“Ohhhh, now that makes a lot more sense,” he teased. “You do realize Elain and Azriel are also up against our strong relationship too?” 
“Yeah, but they are not in love with us. So, it is not as much of an issue for them as it is for us... Also, you forget Azriel does not even know about our bond yet.” 
“I really don’t understand that male at all,” Lucien grunted frustrated at him for not being smart enough to sense the bond between you two. He was the spymaster for gods sake! 
“Neither do I after tonight...” you said as you walked to your dresser to pull out a nightgown. You turned around and looked at Lucien who stared back at you, clearly not getting the message you wanted to change as he clicked his tongue. Your eyes following the movement.
“You never answered my question earlier...” he mused. 
“And what question was that?” you asked, confused as to what he was talking about. You walked to the bathroom attached to your room. You left the door slightly cracked so you could continue your conversation as you changed. 
“About needing a certain reminder?” He sat on your bed with his elbows resting on his knees.
“You are still on about that?” Fuck, this male is really testing your rationality. Why does he have to be so alluring? You slipped off your shirt and grabbed the hem of your pants as he responded. 
“Yes, I am. Sweet little Elain was curious about my ability to light the fireplace tonight.” You could hear him shuffling around slightly. You slipped out of your pants and popped your head out of the crack in the door. 
“First of all, I did not plant that rumor in her head! She simply overheard it,” you said matter of factly. As you looked Lucien up and down. He was now fully sprawled out on your bed, his hair tied up in a messy bun, with his arms arrogantly folded behind his head. Shit, can this male get any more attractive?  
“Uh huh, but that still does not answer the question y/n,” he quirks his head at your floating one in the doorway.  
You were standing there frozen in your underwear as you tried to come up with any kind of responsible thing to say. Something to end this conversation where it is before it gets too messy. However, the sight before you of Lucien in your bed has caused you to short circuit. Memories of you, in this very bathroom, fanaticizing about the male before you as you pleasured yourself came flooding back. The images of his hands all over you as he buried himself in you, and you and him in a heated kiss against the wall earlier, shitttttt. Your face instantly heated, Lucien looks at you concerned. 
“Are you okay?” He started to get up to come check on you.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck. You watch him draw closer to you in concern, but the closer he gets the more the scent of the air starts to change. He paused and you watched him take a sharp inhale from shock. You can’t be that turned on right now, right? 
His eyes darkened from it as he smirked at you, “So y/n, what do you say?” 
Like you said earlier in Lucien’s apartment, fuck it. You both needed this. You both deserved to be selfish for once. You decided to slowly open the door, as the smell of you grew stronger.  
“I don’t know Lu; do you think I need a reminder?” You propped yourself along the doorframe as you looked straight into his eyes as you said, “Or is it you who needs one because you forgot how to weild that power?” You tilted your head to the side as his mouth laid there agape seeing you in nothing but your skimpy choice of attire. 
“Fuckkkk-” he licked his lips as he stalked towards you.  
“Which one is it, Lu?” He stood right in before you and looked down upon your figure.  
“If you think that I forgot how to fuck you properly you must be insane.” 
 Gods you forgot how tall this male was. Respectfully, you wanted to climb this man like a damn tree, and you just might. 
“Then show me already,” you said. 
“Always so eager,” he said as he crashed his lips into yours in a bruising kiss. His hands grab your arms and threw them over his shoulders as he picks you up effortlessly, never breaking the kiss.
You met his kiss with just as much intensity as you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Your hands burying themselves at the bottom of soft silky hair that fell out his bun as Lucien sat you on the bathroom counter. He broke the kiss; you immediately missed contact. He only smirks at you. 
“Well, well, well... what do we have here?” he took another inhale, your scent was driving him crazy. This entire bathroom was covered in it. “Your arousal is everywhere in this bathroom, almost as if it is lingering from earlier?” He looked at you questioningly. Your face heated. Is he smelling you from your time in the bath? There is no way! The smell should’ve vanished by now, right? 
“What too embarrassed to confess love?” His hand cupped your face forcing you to look at him. “You touched yourself earlier, didn’t you?”
You nodded your head; Lucien placed his hands on the counter blocking you in. His knuckles were white as he tried to keep his composure.  
“You will answer when I ask you a question y/n, did you fuck yourself?” His voice was soft but authoritative. 
“Yes,” you squeaked, and he hummed. The sound vibrating through your body. 
“Was it in here?” He quipped. 
“Yes,” you admitted, unable to do anything. Your mind was hazy from being pinned in by him. He sucked in a breath. 
“And what did you think about?” His hands started tracing the curves of your hips as he glanced at your kissable lips. 
“Lucien!” you whisper yelled. This made your heart flutter, having to admit something so vulnerable out loud to him.  
“That’s my name doll,” as he looked at you, “Now what did you think about?” His hands started growing hot on your hips from anticipation. You sighed at the feeling. 
“I-, I thought about you-” you quickly admitted. Lucien’s hands tightened on your hips as they soon became scolding hot, but you didn’t care. 
“Fuck me-” he rested his forehead against yours, “What exactly did you think about?” as his right hand moved to put pressure against your clothed center. You moaned at the slight touch. 
“I-,” you took a shaky breath, “I thought about what it would be like to have you touch me,” you bit your lip as you placed your hands on top his shoulders. 
“Like this?” He started circling his fingers against your clothed clit, head still rested against yours watching your reaction.  
“Mhmn,” was all you could muster. Fuck he wasn’t even really touching you yet and you were already about to give yourself into a release.  
“Or was it like this?” He asked as his left hand left your hip to pull your underwear to the side as his other slid up and down your center. 
“Gods,” you head fell back from the feeling until he ripped his hand away, you glared at him. “What the hell?!” 
“You are going to answer my questions,” He glared at you as if he was just as upset to not be touching you.  
You sighed, “Yes, it was just like that.” 
“Good girl,” he mused as he kissed you softly, “And what else did I do to you?” His left hand cupping your cheek as his right hand teasingly slid up your folds. You hissed. 
“You-” the feeling of his fingers against you was utter bliss, “fuck- I imagined your fingers inside me,” you mouth falling agape at Lucien’s teasing fingers waiting for a command on what to do. 
“How many? One?” He slid his index finger inside you, you gasped as you gripped his shoulders from the pleasure. Your nails slightly digging into him. 
“Two?” He added his middle finger next as a breathy moan escaped your lips. The sound going straight to his cock.  
“Fuck-” you threw your head back, “s’good!” Lucien hummed in satisfaction. 
“Was it three?” He added his ring finger stretching you out. His fingers are much larger than your own, making this feeling more pleasing.
“I- I don’t know how many, I just wanted them.” You said breathlessly. 
“Well, you have them,” he mused back as you glanced at his lips as his words left his mouth. Your hands grabbing a fistful of his shirt to bring him into a kiss. Catching him by surprise from your neediness to have his mouth back on yours, he let out a low grown. You smirked into the kiss hearing his response to you. Your desire growing more impatient. 
“Lucien, please-” you broke the kiss in need for stimulation. His hot fingers inside you made you impatient as you tried to move yourself against him. 
“Please what? Use your words doll,” he said teasingly. 
“Stop with the teasing and just fuck me already!” You huffed a hair that had fallen onto your face. 
“Such a desperate little thing,” he said, and he fully removed his fingers before pumping them back inside you. 
“Yes!” you cried out from finally getting the stimulation you wanted. No, NEEDED.
“S’good for me, fuck you feel so good baby,” Lucien mused as his fingers kept working in and out of you. His cock was begging him to be where his fingers were.  
“More,” you begged. 
“More what doll?” as you scratched along his back trying to get a grip of reality.  
“Need you so bad,” you cried out as he kept at his pace. 
“Not until you are coming undone on my fingers.” 
His left hand found your bra clip and unhooked it. His fingers light as a feather but as hot as hellfire itself as he slowly slid it off your shoulders. The cold breeze instantly hardened your nipples as he tossed your bra to the floor. 
“You are ethereal,” he kissed your neck as his left hand found home on one of your breasts, pinching your nipple slightly. 
You traced your hands down, down, down his back. You can feel Lucien’s muscles tense at every touch. You reached the hem of his pants and slipped a pinky finger inside the elastic of his underwear and slowly traced it around to his lower abdomen. The slight tease of your finger had his eagerly hitting your soft spot effortlessly. You were writhing beneath him.
“Shit- right there Lu!” you breathed as your hands took hold of his hips bound to leave bruises. 
“Fuck you are so gorgeous,” as he took your other nipple into his mouth and moaned. Your head hit the wall behind you as you were starting to reach your climax. 
“Lucien,” you said breathlessly. 
“I know baby, I know. Doing s’good for me,” as he nipped at your ear. 
“I’m gonna-” you tried to tell him you were about to finish but your sentence fell short as you felt your release seconds away from washing over you. Lucien’s left hand found your chin and forced it down to his gaze. 
 “I want to watch that pretty face of yours as you cum on my fingers, yeah?” he gave you a chaste kiss. You somehow managed to nod your head despite how good Lucien was fingering you, and you locked eyes. His pupils were full blown, the beautiful russet-colored eyes you loved was gone. He looked utterly primal, and it turned you on even more than you already were. His hand hot inside your core, only adding more pleasure before you were gripping the base of his hair and clenching around him. 
“That’s it, cum for me y/n,” his eyes never left yours as you came undone on his fingers. “Gods you are so fucking beautiful.”
Moans were slipping and falling from your mouth as he worked you through your high. You swore you saw stars from how hard you came around him. 
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As you regained your stability, you looked down to see Lucien’s hand glistening in the light peeking into the room. You smiled at him through your lashes as you pulled him back down into a kiss, but Lucien broke away. 
“You have made such a mess,” he teased. 
And sure enough, you looked back down to see that his pants were covered in you. Only proof of how good he finger fucked you. Your fantasy had just come to life before you. All you could do was smirk at him as you gently grabbed his wrist and sucked his fingers clean. You hummed at the taste of yourself on his fingers and Lucien watched every move you made.  
You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him once more, letting him get a taste for himself. His tongue gliding along your bottom lip before he took it into his mouth and released it with a pop. 
“Better?” You asked and he hummed. 
“So sweet,” he said as he licked his lips as you unbuttoned his pants. 
“Now what can we do about these?” You asked as your hands slid into the hem of his underwear and slightly tugged down. Lucien looked at you playfully as he took a step back and threw his hands up in an “I don't know” kind of way. You giggled as you slipped off the counter to help him out his pants. Your hands slowly pull them down his waist before you kneeled to pull them the rest of the way. All you can see is his pants and underwear at his ankles, you tap his ankle as a way of telling him to lift it and he does. You do the same to the other and toss them across the floor. 
You slowly trail your gaze up his muscular legs to his hard cock standing proud against his lower stomach. Your mouth watered at the sight of his needy swollen cock dripping with precum. Fuck, you had forgotten how big he was. If Lucien had wings, he sure as hell would have a large wingspan. 
You slowly looked up at him, batting your lashes, as you grazed your fingers up, up, up his legs as you started to stand. Your hands took a slight detour to slightly touch his aching member and Lucien let out a hiss as his head fell back. 
“Fucking tease,” he groaned as your fingers collected some of his pre cum and licked it off, standing back up.  
“Do you want to know what else I thought about?” You said as your hands played with the bottom of his shirt. 
“What else did you think about?” He cocked his head to the side completely captivated by you. 
“I thought about what it would be like to have your dick inside me again,” you bit your lip seductively from the thought of it. 
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah,” you said as he let you pull his shirt over his head. Your eyes roaming his gods sculptured body. You had forgotten how built he was, lean muscle everywhere from all his training with swords.  
“How did I fuck you y/n?” He placed his hands on your hips guiding you back to the counter and you smirked. 
“Ruthlessly,” you said breathlessly, and Lucien only smirked. 
“Then turn the fuck around,” he snapped as his hands spun you to face the counter. You were now staring at your reflections through the mirror above the countertop as Lucien’s hands slid your soaked underwear off you. 
“Bend over,” he commanded as he popped a soft slap on your ass. You yelped in surprise as you bent over the counter.  
“Always such a good girl for me,” as he softly rubbed the now pink handprint on your ass. He bent his body over yours, as he kissed your cheek. You could feel his cock pressed up against you as you slowly started to grind onto him. He pushed harder against you in response. 
Lucien grabbed your chin as he said, “You remember our safe word, correct?” Placing soft kisses all over your neck. 
“Yes,” you sighed into his touch, “Do you?”  
“Yes, I do.” He smiled at you, as he grabbed his cock and drug his tip through your core. Fuck it felt like you were on fire. 
“Lu please, I need you so bad.”  
“Alright baby, you asked for it,” he smirked at you as he gave you no time before he rammed his dick straight into you. You screamed his name as both pain and pleasure ran through you from how deep he was. 
“Oh my gods, you're so deep,” you moaned as he slid himself all the way out and right back in.  
“You are so tight,” as his hands gripped your waist. All you could do was watch him through the mirror as he fucked you. His brows furrowed in pleasure and mouth slightly hanging open.  
“Lucien faster,” you begged. 
“You are going to take what I give you! Now, put your hands together on the countertop.” His dominance over you had your core clenching against him as you did as you were told. 
“Fuck, you like that don't you?” Another soft smack landed on your ass, causing you to bite your lip to stop from moaning. “You like being told what to do?” you nodded. 
“What did I say about using your words y/n?” he growled.  
“Yes, I like it when you tell me what to do. Now please fuck me already?!” You were starting to grow impatient and were about to start rocking back onto his cock. 
“Little girls who play with fire are bound to get their fingers burned,” he said as you felt a tingling sensation around your wrists. You looked down to see swirling bands of fire holding them together. Your eyes lit up in response. Lucien watched as you looked at him in utter awe. 
“You can do that?” 
“I can do anything you want doll, now, grab ahold of the counter.” 
The fire bands were still binding your wrists together, sending warm sensations throughout your arms as you managed your best grip onto the countertop.  
“Do not let go, you hear me?”  
“Yes sir,” you smirked at him.  
At that phrase, all restraint he had dissipated. He began thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow. Your walls clenching around him from the sensation of having both fire restraints and his burning cock inside you. 
“You are scorching,” you moaned out in pleasure. 
“Such a slut for my heat, aren’t you baby?” he grunted out as he pounded into you from behind.  
“Fuck- yes,” your knuckles grew white from gripping the counter so hard to even out Lucien’s thrusts as you looked back at him. You could see his cock going in and out of you. The sight of it had your walls fluttering around him.  
Lucien moaned feeling you flutter around him, “This cunt is mine.” One of his hands left your hip as he played with your clit. 
“It has always been yours. Since the day I first met you, it has been yours,” you moaned head slumping to your shoulder. 
“Fuck- Y/n, I-” his finger circling your clit moved faster as his thrusts grew harder at each stroke. 
“You feel s’good Lu,” you looked back into the mirror. His hair fell out of his bun and is now clinging to the sweat on his forehead. He has never looked more handsome than right now. His hair framing his face and his eyes burned into yours. You felt your core tightening around him.  
“So do you sweetheart,” he moaned as his feet spread yours apart, his thrusts now hitting deeper than before. 
“Oh mother, right there Lucien!” You screamed as Lucien removed his hand from your clit and grabbed a fistful of your hair craning your neck. 
“You look so perfect right now,” his cock jetting ruthlessly into you. 
“I’m close-” you breathed. 
“Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock just like you did my fingers?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna- OH FUCK!” Your release had come burning through you, the bonds on your wrists tightening and growing hotter, as you looked at you and Lucien’s bodies meeting through the mirror.
“Shit- y/n you feel so fucking good,” he growled as he kept fucking you through your high. All you could do was watch Lucien with a handful of your hair coaxing you through it. Your entire body felt like it was on fire as Lucien’s thrusts grew sloppy, a sign he was close. 
“I’m almost there y/n. You’re taking me so well,” all you could do was moan in response as Lucien filled your walls with his cum. Your core burning from it in a comforting way as he collapsed onto you. Both of you are out of breath and drenched in sweat. You felt the restraints on your wrists vanish as Lucien kissed you on the lips.  
“Gods I’ve missed you,” he mused. 
You kissed him back, “I missed you too.” 
You two just sat there smiling at each other like utter idiots, enjoying this nice moment before reality sets back in. You turned around and hugged Lucien. 
“How about you we clean up?” you asked as you peered up at him. 
“Yes, I will run us a bath,” he smiled at you as he kissed the top of your head, “but first we need to do something about your legs.” He bellowed. You looked down to see both yours and his cum dripping down your legs. Your face grew hot from embarrassment.  
As if he could read your mind he said, “Don't be embarrassed, it is rather sexy!” as he smirked at you in an all too knowing way. 
“I'll go clean myself up while you run the bath,” you said. 
“Alright, I will see you in a bit,” as he turned to run you both a cold bubble bath.  
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You left and cleaned yourself up in your room before walking back to your bathroom to find Lucien sitting on the side of the tub waiting for you. 
As you walked in your nose scrunched up, “This bathroom reeks of sex now,” you laughed, and Lucien joined in at the sight of your face. 
“Just like old times, huh?” he laughed. 
You smiled, “Yes, just like that.” You truly did miss him all these years.
“Now how about a nice cold tubby to clean up?” he outstretched his hand to you to help you into the bath. 
“Did you just say tubby?” you asked as you took his hand and let him help you in. 
“Yes, do you have any issues with it,” he glared playfully. 
“Nope,” you said popping the p as he climbed in after you. 
“Good, now get over here and let me take care of you,” he smiled. 
“m’kay,” you said as you made your way over and laid against him as he washed your hair. Both of you savoring this moment while you could.
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Since it has been a long time sine the last post, please let me know on this chapter if you’re interested in being on my taglist!
Tags:
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keirawantstocry · 3 months
Note
Hi hi, tis I, 💋anon, yet again back with another Thought. Your writing continues to be Fantastic AHHHHH. All the kisses for you.
I have no real premise for this other than p l e a s e but- someone mentioned when fit and pac were Cricling Tubbo and complimenting him. And then The Suit happened and I just- if they reacted that way to him changing a Shirt what would they do seeing him in a Suit (either the black or white one they were both Good mans is too attractive). Did they get him in the suit? did one of them? did someone else??? is there an event???
Hope you're having a good day (that you get un-sick soon, sounds like it fuckin sucks) :>
still sick but im chugging vitamin water and gatorade like its nobodys business :) also i have history in a fandom with 1800's and 1900's fashion so i leaned a bit into my past with TLH to come up with this outfit idea. i doubt many mcyters know it but google matthew fairchild and thats the inspo for the outfit!
Tubbo felt out of place to say the least. He wouldn't go as far to say he was uncomfortable but the suit on his body felt strange. It was the women’s idea. Niki was the one who decided to host the get-together, Bagi and Tina the ones who decided everyone had to dress up. The children loved the idea, absolutely loved it. Tubbo spent an hour with Sunny dressing her in the finest dress he could possibly get for her. She was a sight. Dressed in a beautiful moss green dress with golden detailing. Her hair was piled on top of her head with lovely golden flowers threading through her curls. “You look beautiful, poppet.” 
Sunny grinned at him before grabbing at his hands. She dragged him over to his closet and started digging through the suits. 
“Oh no, princess. I don’t want to wear something complicated.” 
She gave him a look that warranted absolutely no arguing and now here he was, dressed up. The undershirt was crisp white and the waistcoat on top a deep swirling green that matched Sunny’s dress, a simple black jacket topping it all. She had insisted. He would do anything for his princess and she damn well knew it. 
The party was beautiful. Fairy lights strung up all over the walls with tables of food in every corner of the large room. Mouse greeted them when they walked in. “Tubbo! Sunny! Hey, guys.” 
“Hey, Mouse,” Tubbo greeted back as Sunny waved happily. 
“Awww,” came Niki’s voice from behind them. “Sunny, you look absolutely gorgeous.” 
“Thank you!” she signed. 
Tubbo felt a strange type of pressure on him all of a sudden, like someone was watching him very closely. Peering around the room at all the guests he tried to figure out who it was. His answer came only a moment later as he saw Pac and Fit making a beeline for him. 
“Oi!” Pac said cheerily, his eyes glued on Tubbo’s suit. 
Tubbo had to resist the urge to squirm. “Hey, Pac.” 
Fit was utterly silent, eyeing him up and down as Pac smiled at Sunny. “Oi, Sunny, there’s uh a chocolate fountain over there.” He looked up pointedly at Niki who’s eyebrows shot up. “Niki, why don’t you show her the fountain?” 
Niki and Mouse quickly glanced between the three of them before at each other with knowing expressions. “Yeah, of course,” Mouse said, taking one of Sunny’s hands as Niki took the other. “Let’s get you some sweets, princess.” 
Tubbo rubbed his thumb repeatedly into the palm of his other hand in a nervous stim as he looked at the both of them. “Um, what’s up guys?” 
Neither of them were looking him in the eyes and every place their eyes dipped to felt like it was on fire. “You look really good,” Fit said in a low voice, finally looking him in the eye. His eyes were dark. “Really good.” 
Tubbo flushed. “Uh, thanks?” 
Pac nodded and nodded, absentmindedly before he took a step forward and grabbed Tubbo by the waist, running his hands over the expensive material of the waistcoat. His eyes got even wider as soon as he got his hands on the other man and Tubbo had to admit something in his chest was very pleased about this whole interaction. “So good,” he said softly. Pac's eyes were giving the impression he wanted to eat him alive and it made Tubbo shudder, suddenly feeling very warm in the suit. “You should uh come home with us later yeah?” 
Tubbo stared at him, jaw agape. “Uh, uh.” He glanced quickly over at Fit who was still blatantly checking him out. “Yeah? Yeah um sure.” 
“Good,” Pac said smoothly, running his hands down his sides once before finally pulling them away. He winked. “Meet us after the party.” 
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There's Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby
This is my first Gaz fic. I've just started uni break so I finally have the ability to write again, this idea grabbed me by the throat months ago and refuses to let go so I'm writing this instead of my millions of WIPS
Contains: Deadly levels of fluff, it's all fluff, I'm not sorry, this man is a puppy dog so don't blame me, hints at smut.
Song inspo (of course it's fucking Hozier)
1.4K Words
Gaz had never been so mesmerised by fabric before.
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"You with us, man?" Price's words pulled him from his thoughts; Kyle hated his army functions, they were always so dull.
He nodded. "Yeah, I'm thinking I should have given my ticket to my sister, at least she would be having fun."
Price chuckled. "Just get drunk, I know I am." Gaz sighed, for all their talk, once the gentry had finished their posturing and platitudes, they left the grunts to themselves.
Right on cue, Soap appeared with Simon in tow, their hands full of fancy glasses, and they settled beside their teammates. "I got this one for you Gaz, it's winter melon." It was comical to see Simon without his mask, a fancy drink in a tiny glass in his massive hand.
"Thanks man." It tasted like melon candy and a headache, but it was better than nothing.
"Is y/n coming?" Soap's tone was too almost too nutural.
Gaz nodded. "Yep, she'll be here soon."
Their table went quiet, and Price and Simon shared a look before Price turned to Gaz. "You gonna ask her to dance?"
Gaz blinked. "I don't know."
Simon cleared his throat. "Your arms are going to fall off it you keep carry that torch."
Gaz was going to refute him, tell Simon you were just friends but the tap of Soap's finger and a point towards the grand staircase stopped him. "Holy shit." He had never seen such a pretty shade of yellow, like you were wrapped in the fading sunlight of a spring afternoon.
You made a beeline for the group, stopping only to snatch a glass of bubbling champagne from a tray. "Hey."
Simon was the first to speak, twirling his thin drinking straw as if he were a cheap villain in an old movie. "Don't you look nice." He shoved Gaz in the shoulder. "Don't she look nice Kyle?"
His mouth was still agape, Soap and Price snickering from behind their drinks. "Yes, yes, you look lovely y/n."
You smiled. "Thank you Kyle." You paused for a moment, the poor man looked like he was going to keel over with nerves. "Will I be on your dance card tonight?"
He blinked. "Yep, yes, I would love to dance with you."
Simon, Price and Soap exchanged a look as Price hid his red face behind his glass; now was not the time to laugh at the poor man. "Wonderful, I need to go thank Kate for the invite." You turned to Price. "Please don't drink to much while I'm gone."
He chuckled. "You're off duty Doc, I can do what I want."
****
Kyle was a coward, a terrorist killing, war criminal hunting coward, or at least that's how he felt watching you awkwardly dance with a man old enough to be your father.
"He's an earl, you know?" His team had been taking turns for the last hour and Soap's Scottish lit had only grown stronger as he got drunker, your disapproving looks only served to spur him on. "You're going to lose your lady to an old earl." He snorted as you pulled away. "Wait, no, she doesn't like him much." He slapped Gaz on the back, and it was hard enough for him to shift from his spot. "Go on laddie, before someone else steps in, you did tell her you'd dance with her."
Gaz sighed and downed the rest of his whiskey. "Right.." His shoulders fell. "I don't fucking know how to waltz."
Soap chuckled. "You'll do fine, just don't step on her lovey shoes."
He took another deep breath and stepped out onto the dance floor, heading right to you with determination. But any confidence he had faded like a dying star when you flashed him a smile. "Kyle, I thought you'd run off."
He shook his head. "No, we haven't danced yet, and I want to do that, with you."
You did your best to hold back your giggle. "Is that you asking me to dance?"
He nodded and squared his shoulders, extending his hand like a Victorian gentleman. "Y/n, may I have this dance?"
You nodded and took his hand. "I would like that very much."
You stayed at the edge of the dance floor as the soft music continued, taking a deep breath before addressing the elephant in the room. "When are we going to talk about what's going on between us?"
He managed to hold back his flinch, the hint of upset in your voice was enough to make his chest sting. "Now's as good as any time I guess."
You huffed. "You guess? We spent weeks sitting with each other by Soap's bedside after Makarov shot him, then he finally checked out and you almost kissed me and now you're acting like nothing happened."
His eyes fell to the floor. "I know, I didn't know where to start. I didn't want to fuck things up."
You smiled softly and lifted a hand to his cheek. "You won't, don't worry."
The tension bled from his body as he resisted the urge to nuzzle into your palm. "Can I kiss you?"
You nodded. "I would like that."
He leaned down, his nose brushing yours, before pulling you into a kiss. It was soft, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin as the other hand splayed across your lower back. His chest swelled, so this is what love felt like, like drowning in a roaring river, all the sound sucked from the air while he got pulled into the undertow.
He pulled away and slid his hand up your body, uncaring of the people standing around watching. "The hotel gave us a room for the night, something about throwing us a thank you breakfast, you wanna save the cab fair and come to stay with me tonight?"
You nodded. "That's very thoughtful of you Kyle, shall we go now?"
His face broke into a grin, and he looped his arm around your lower back. "I like your thinking."
You slowed as you walked by the rest of the 141. "Get it off your chests now, you've all got one minute exactly."
Simon was silent, and Soap was so drunk that he was just smiling like a madman, so Price was the one to add his two cents. "Just use protection, I'm too young to be grandfather." Kyle's eyes went wide, and Price broke out into a belly laugh. "Off you go kids, go have fun."
You pulled Kyle away by the arm and waved. "I won't forget this."
The elevator ride was smooth and quick, and you were in his room in a flash. His lips found yours again, and you leaned against the door. His fingers slid around your body to find the opening of your dress. "You need to unlace the corset sweetheart."
He took a deep breath. "Right." He moved behind you, his hands never leaving your skin as they reached the bottom of the dress where the bow was tied. It took him a while, but the dress slowly loosened, and he slid his hands upwards to slip the cap sleeves off your shoulders. You stepped out, and his head tilted; he was expecting lace underwear, not more skirts.
"It's called a petticoat, it makes the dress more puffy." You took his hand and brought it to the hook and loop closure, and he struggled for a moment before that, too, came free.
He stretched his hand out, softly pinching the short silk dress that covered your skin. "A chemise, my dear, it stops the corset boning from pressing against the skin."
He grabbed the hem with a soft smile. "Can I?"
You nodded. "Of course." He marvelled at the softness of the silk as it came off, and his breath caught in his chest as he took in your bare flesh. His fingers reach out, brushing your flesh with a gentleness that didn't seem possible for hands so calloused. You took his hand and placed it flat on your breast, and he seemed stuck dumb. "Are you alright Sweetheart?"
He nodded. "Oh, I'm fucking great. Shit, I think you're the prettiest woman I've ever seen."
You smiled. "Ok, you're very overdressed."
His dress greens were suddenly even tighter and scratchier and that was saying something. "Yes I am."
You reached up and slid the coat from his shoulder, placing it on the nearby chair before you turned your attention to his shirt buttons. "Ok then, I guess we should fix that."
He nodded. "You should." He grinned and kissed you again, deeper this time with a promise of things to come. "I love you y/n."
You sighed as your hands hit the hard, warm muscle of his torso. "I love you too Kyle."
Fin
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@chaos-4baby @candy616 No idea if this is your thing so no pressure.
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zepskies · 4 months
Text
Big & Tall
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Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: You steal Sam’s shirt. But that simple theft comes at a big price.
Request: Can you write something where Sam notices the reader wearing his shirt?
Song Inspo: “Look At You” by Screaming Trees
Word Count: 2,200
Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, thievery, kitchen shenanigans, implied smut, tinge of angst and feels.
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It was an honest mistake, really.
After the latest hunt, Sam graciously offered to let you wash your clothes here in the bunker (since most of them were bloodstained). You had to pull a finished load from the dryer before you could use it, not knowing if it was Sam or Dean’s clothes you were shoving into a nearby basket.
When you later went back for your clothes in the dryer, you’d apparently grabbed one of Sam’s black undershirts in all the fabric shuffling.
An accident. Though you hadn’t realized it until you were back in the comfort of your borrowed room in the bunker, sitting on your bed and folding your laundry.
You pulled out one of those big-and-talls and took one good look—and you knew it could only fit perfectly on Sam Winchester’s extra-long torso.
A smile unconsciously drew across your face.
You knew you should just bring it over to him. His room was a mere two doors down the hall…but instead, you gave into the quiet, secret urge to fold it up and put it with the rest of your laundry, knowing full well you were going to use it from now on as a sleep shirt.
The thing was so long it reached halfway down your thighs. (AKA: the perfect length.) But you really didn’t think he would miss an old-ass undershirt like this one.
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The next morning, you made sure you were dressed in some pajama pants, your most comfortable bra, and an old college shirt before you ventured out of your room and into the kitchen.
Predictably, Sam was already up and dressed for the day, making some coffee. It was early enough that Dean was likely asleep, or at least still getting himself together.
Sam turned and greeted you with a smile. “Morning.”
“Mhmm,” you nodded groggily, though you offered him a “pleasant” smile before you accepted a coffee mug from him.
Sam’s smile deepened slightly. He knew you weren’t a morning person. He sipped at his own mug while you held yours with both hands, raising it slowly to your lips. You closed your eyes at its hazelnut warmth; trust him to stock the fridge with your favorite creamer. You hummed in delight.
Sam’s gaze was warm on you too, though you didn’t realize it.
“Hey, uh…we’re running low on stuff. Want to go somewhere for breakfast?” he asked.
You met his gaze and had to stifle your smile this time.
“Sure,” you nodded. “Want to wait for Dean?”
Sam shrugged. “We can bring him something back.”
Interesting. Your smile grew, despite your best efforts.
“Okay. Let me just get dressed,” you said.
And maybe you’d put a little makeup on, fix your frizzy bedhead. Apparently you and Sam were going on a brunch date.
Not a real one though, you rolled your eyes at yourself as you trekked down the hall. You had known the Winchesters for a couple of years now, and had gone through some real scrapes together whenever they needed your help, or vice versa. They were quickly becoming part of your people. Your family.
…But never more than that, it seemed.
Your smile slowly fell before you reached your room. You just couldn’t know that Sam was staring after you, down the hall, with a similar contemplation on his face.
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“Think Dean’ll crap his pants when he sees the Impala’s gone?” you remarked. You were the passenger while Sam drove. You knew he must've been savoring this, as it was one of the few times he’d ever sat in that seat.
“I left him a note,” Sam replied in amusement.
“Aw, damn,” you teased. “Here I thought we were going on Mission Impossible.”
He shook his head, but his smile kicked up at the corners. He paused when something occurred to him. 
“Hey, by the way.” He turned to you in askance. “Did you happen to see one of my shirts when you were doing laundry yesterday?”
You perked up internally, but you tried to school your features into something more nonchalant. Casual. Yeah.
“Uh, no,” you replied. Somehow, even that small lie made you feel a prickle of guilt. “What color was it?”
“Black,” he said. Good thing he was focused on pulling into the diner’s parking lot, and not on your blushing face. “Can’t seem to find it.”
You averted your gaze and bit the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t smile.
“Sorry, haven’t seen it. I’ll keep a lookout though.”
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After a nice morning with Sam (you brought back a breakfast burrito for Dean), you spent the rest of the day catching up on Game of Thrones with the brothers.
It was nice to have a rare day off, even if you spent most of it trying to ignore how your thigh was resting against Sam’s. How you could feel his warmth radiating from his arm, laid behind your head on the couch, and how if you’d just leaned over a few inches, you could’ve been resting against his flannel-covered chest.
God. You’re such a girl, you inwardly lamented at yourself. Fucking c’est la vie.
At their insistence, you spent another night at the bunker while you rested up. That werewolf hunt had been particularly brutal on everyone, especially your wounded side. It was already starting to heal, but would definitely be uncomfortable while driving.
Now, ordinarily you weren’t one to let that keep you down…though it did give you an excuse to stay a little while longer.
When you all finally called it a night, you took a long, hot shower and pulled on the shirt over your underwear. It now kind of felt like contraband, but that thought also amused you. It also made you feel closer to him, in whatever small, pathetic way.
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You spent the next couple of hours trying and failing to fall asleep in your room. You tried listening to music, daydreaming, even counting damn sheep for what that was worth, but your brain was wide awake. 
You blew out an irritated sigh into the darkness and silence.
And then your stomach growled. Ugh, fine!
You got up. It was late enough at night that you didn’t bother changing clothes, lest you be spotted by a wild moose. You just padded out barefooted down the hall and into the kitchen, where you raided the fridge.
Geez, Sam was right about them being low on options, you thought as you perused a damn near empty fridge. There was milk and creamer, a couple cases of beer (of course), some crumpled ketchup packets, and a half-eaten burger that already had something fuzzy growing on it.
This is just sad. You grimaced, but you stuck your head in closer to see if you could find anything in the back. If you only knew about the hot gaze on your ass.
“Midnight snack?”
The voice, though familiar, startled the shit out of you. You banged your head on the edge of the freezer door when you jumped on reflex. You cried out and your hand flew to the back of your head, just before a larger hand covered yours.
You glanced up at found Sam’s handsome face—very apologetic, but somehow silently laughing.
“Uh, sorry. You okay?” he asked.
“Y-Yeah,” you replied. You faltered a bit as you realized how close he’d gotten, staring down at you with those earnest hazel eyes. But those eyes soon dipped and took in the rest of you…clad in only a black shirt that brushed your bare thighs.
You watched it start to compute on his face, in the tilt of his head, and the subtle raise of his brows.
“Is that my shirt?” he asked.
Your lips twitched, despite your blushing embarrassment.
“No,” you replied.
His gaze flicked up to yours. He smiled a little incredulously.
He knew you were a filthy liar. But you slipped your hand from under his and crossed your arms under your breasts, leading him to drop his hand from your hair.
“It’s soft…and comfy,” you said lamely. And you wished it smelled like him.
Sam was amused, and a little surprised…and undoubtedly turned on. He couldn’t help but notice your bare legs, the smooth expanse of skin, the suggestion of curves under his shirt, and the firm peaks of your nipples through the fabric.
“Okay. You can keep it,” he said, when his gaze finally drew back up to yours. “For a price.”
Your face felt hot. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth for a moment, but somehow you managed to answer him.
“Name it,” you said gamely. Your stance became an unspoken challenge.
Sam’s lips drew closer to a smile.
He reached for your chin and tilted your face up towards his. There was a moment of uncertainty there, as if he was giving you time to pull away, if you wanted to.
The truth was, you were holding your breath. It felt like you’d been waiting a small eternity for this exact moment.
Your arms uncrossed. Slowly you reached for him, grabbing onto the front of his blue flannel, and he bent down to you. When his lips finally touched yours, it almost short-circuited your brain. You inhaled deeply and melted a bit, raising your hand to the back of his head to keep him there.
You felt the gentle way he caressed your cheek, and later the strength in his hands when he molded them to the curve of your waist and pulled you in close. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, and the kiss became a fierce, sloppy meeting of lips.
His tongue swept across your bottom lip and sought entrance. You welcomed him in with a wordless moan.
Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails grazing his scalp. It earned you a deep sound of pleasure from his mouth into yours. Soon enough, those same strong hands were roaming down your waist and hips, then squeezing your ass, and pressing you against the hard planes of his body. You also felt the hardening length of him against your stomach.
“Sam,” you gasped against his lips.
That seemed to pull him out of the frenzied haze. Panting for breath though he was, he broke from you, pulling away far enough to look down at you with furrowed brows. There was a question in his eyes that he still voiced.
“Too much?” he asked.
It was a loaded question, but you thought you could read them all.
Do you want this? Do you really want me? We can stop…
Your answer was simple. You pulled yourself up on your toes and claimed his lips with a devouring kiss. Sam’s eyes closed on a sharp inhale, but his hold on you tightened again. He bent down to move his hands down the back of your thighs, and he squeezed twice, wordlessly encouraging you to jump for him.
You had electricity in your veins and a warm pulsing between your thighs. In your frazzled state, you did your best to jump up, but he helped you the rest of the way. You were able to wrap your legs around his waist, though you let out a small yelp at being vaulted so high.
Now you had the rare privilege of looking down at Sam’s amused face. You smiled down at him, caressing his cheek.
“I think I want a tour of your room,” you said.
“Good,” Sam replied. Despite the care he took in how he held you, you saw the hunger in his eyes. “I could go for a midnight snack.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that. You clung to his shoulders as he carried you down the hall and into his room, where he locked the door behind him.
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The man was a furnace, you discovered, after your skin was dewy and glistening against his, and the sheets laid tangled between your bare legs.
He held you to his chest while he recovered on his back. You rested there, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat slowly coming down from its race. His fingertips traced lazy patterns up and down your naked back.
Sam had taken great pleasure in tossing the shirt along with his other clothes onto the floor. Your panties had been flung to parts unknown.
You smiled at the thought, while your nails made delicate tracks of their own across his slightly furry chest.
“What’re you thinking?” he asked you. Quiet and steady.
With a sigh, you pushed up onto your elbow on his pillow, so you could see his face. Your hand found his cheek. There his stubble pricked against your palm, and you drew your thumb tenderly across his his lower lip.
“I’m hoping you want more from this than one…very awesome night,” you confessed.
Sam smiled, reaching up to grasp your wrist gently. It was a different kind of touch, where just a few moments ago, he’d pushed your body damn near to its limits. And yet, he knew his own strength. Controlled, even in his bed.
“Yeah, I do,” he replied, though his eyes gradually fell from your face. “I’ll be honest, it uh…scares me a little.”
“What does?” you asked with a frown. You waited until he looked up at you again.
“This matters to me,” he said at last. “You matter to me.”
And the people that mattered all too often got taken away from him.
Your throat constricted. Because in his wary eyes, you could almost see the thoughts that were likely plaguing his mind. Things that might’ve kept him from this night with you for so long.
In that moment, you made a decision. You lowered down to press a gentler kiss to his lips.
“Then let’s give it a try,” you said.
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AN: It got a little angstier than I intended there at the end lol, but I went with it! I so hope you guys enjoy this. I love me some Sam. 💜
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Sam Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Ko-Fi Me ☕
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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year
Text
Honey Bun (18+ Series)
Aaron Hotchner x Stripper!Reader
Part 5 // MINORS DNI
WC: 3.0k words
Song Inspo: Possibly Maybe - Björk
Series Warnings: Eventual smut, bit of an age gap (placing reader at around 25-26), cursing, alcohol consumption, formalized sex work (Stripper/Pole Dancer), occasional angst, drama. In this chapter specifically -- light angst, flufffff, SMUT OBVIOUSLY, smoking one (1) cigarette (sorry about that but its DRAMATIC and therefore NECESSARY), semi-public sex (?), lap dance, dirty talking, Hotch being submissive and breedable tbh, aaaand that's all I can think of rn, but lmk if I missed anything!
A/N: Lmaooooo sorry that the plot just kinda flew out the window on this one a little bit, I just wanted to write something dirttyyyyyy tee hee hopefully all is good here but lmk if it needs other warnings or anything!
Tags: @montyfandomlove, @cassiemartzz, @hausofwhores, @pedrohoe04, @sebastiansstanswhore, @comfortzonequeen,
-----------------------
“Looks like lover boy is here,” Josephine noted, wiping down a glass to keep herself busy. “Doesn’t seem like he had a great day.”
You glanced up to see Aaron approaching the bar. It’d been a few days since Gia’s birthday, in which you hadn’t spoken much to him. You were gathering the courage to talk to him about things, but it was taking more time than you anticipated.
And now, it seemed time was up.
“It’s been tense to say the least,” you murmured. “Mind if I take fifteen?”
“Go ahead,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything.”
You nodded appreciatively, patting her arm before making your way to Aaron.
“Hi,” you said, smiling meekly. “It’s my smoke break. Wanna join me outside?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“Only sometimes. Good excuse to step outside when things get to be … too much, I suppose,” you shrugged. “Plus, it’s a little more private for us to talk, don’t you think?”
He nodded, pursing his lips. “Yeah, you’re right. Lead the way.”
He stood up and followed as you led him out the back door. The cacophony of music and rowdy patrons faded into the background as the two of you stepped out into the alleway. The night air was cool but bearable, still in the late throes of spring.
You covered the flame as you lit the cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke.
“Can I have a drag?” He asked, and you offered it to him.
 You watched his profile as he exhaled smoke too, looking off into the middle-distance as he thought.
“I wanted to—” you started to say at the same time he said. “I thought—”
The two of you stopped, staring at each other for a moment.
“Oh, go ahead,” you prompted as he handed the cigarette back to you.
“No, no. You can go,” he insisted.
“Um… well I wanted to say that I’m sorry that things have been kind of weird lately,” you began. “It all came as a bit of a shock, as I’m sure you felt.  But uh, I think I owe you some honesty, so I’ll just come clean.”
You took another long drag, bracing yourself to just rip the band aid off. 
“Ever heard of the Crimson Lounge?” You said. “I dance there on the weekends. I’m a stripper, that’s my mysterious other job.”
You ashed the cigarette, gathering your thoughts for a second before barreling on. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I guess… it was stupid not to, but I’m sure you understand why I didn’t. But you deserved to know.” You looked up at him, finally meeting his dark eyes. “Especially because it’s not going to change.”
He extended his hand towards you once more to get the cigarette. He ashed it, taking a long drag himself, his gaze not leaving yours.
“What sort of reaction were you expecting from me?” He asked curiously.
You shrugged, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know… I guess disappointment? A loss of respect? Or something worse.”
He seemed genuinely surprised at this. He tossed the finished cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out.
“Hey, look at me,” he said, gently taking your chin and tilting your face towards his. “I don’t feel that way at all.”
You searched his face for any hidden emotion that might betray his words. But the only thing you found was earnestness, as well as determination.
Still, you asked, “Really?”
“Yes, of course,” he assured you, cupping your face in his hands. “Trust me, that’s not a problem to me. Sure, it surprised me, but that doesn’t mean I see it as a bad thing.”
“You’re a rare exception to what seems to be the norm…” you said, smiling wryly.
“I like you for who you are, Honey. I see you.” His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones. “I know we’ve only been on a few dates, but it’s been such a pleasure getting to know you. I’d like to continue… If that’s okay with you. I want to know everything.”
You nodded, your eyes stinging as tears pooled in your vision. “Well, there’s one more thing I should also clarify. About Derek.”
He stiffened a little, swallowing hard. He said nothing, willing to just listen. 
“He met Gia and me at the Crimson. He’s been a regular for some time,” you said. “He’s, uh, seen a lot of me, on and off the stage. But we’re just friends and nothing more. He’s with Gia, and they really like each other.”
He nodded, jaw clenched. He took a few breaths, just looking at you, and that seemed to help ease whatever conflicting emotions he was feeling. 
“But… he was always respectful?” He managed to ask.
“Yeah. He’s a good guy,” you smiled reassuringly. “I’m sorry if this just complicates things.”
“Honey, please,” he shook his head. “Who the hell am I to judge you for anything you do? It’s in the past, as you said. As long as he was decent, that’s all I care about.”
“Well, I think you’re more than decent.” Your eyes flicked down to his lips. “And I really want to kiss you for it.”
He chuckled, leaning down and kissing you sweetly. Your heart continued to race, but now for entirely different reasons. You were kind of in disbelief that it had all gone so well, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But his thumbs traced your cheekbones again, wiping away the happy tears you hadn’t realized you were shedding. It was a reassurance that you needed, and you were grateful he gave it so freely.
When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours.
“So, you forgive me?” You murmured.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. “You did nothing wrong. But I am sorry that things got so strange last time we saw each other. I hope I didn’t react… harshly. I was just surprised.”
You waved him off, nodding in understanding and pulling back further to look at him. 
“There’ll be another chance for a better first impression with my sister and Gia, don’t worry about them,” you assured. “And you know… If you’re comfortable, maybe you should visit me at the Crimson some time. See what it’s like. I could even arrange for us to have the VIP room for an hour, so we’re out of the main floor.”
He smirked a little. “Does that mean I’d get VIP treatment, too?”
You rolled your eyes playfully, smacking his arm. “Yes, only because you’ve been so good… But you’ve turned me into a real sap, you know that?”
He planted an affectionate kiss on your lips. “That was the goal.”
————————
“Honey, you’ve been requested for a private. An hour and a half, already paid for. He’s at table seven, you can escort him upstairs.”
You nodded, making your way over. It hadn’t been a very busy night, so you decided to call it right after this. An hour and a half was kind of pushing it, but at least it was early enough that you could still enjoy some downtime at home and potentially see if Aaron was free for another sleepover.
You’d plastered on your most charming smile, but it faltered for a surprised moment when you saw the man in question — Aaron, sitting by himself at the table, swirling his scotch around the glass lazily.
It was as if you’d summoned him somehow. For a moment, as your gazes connected, it didn’t seem real. 
He hadn’t mentioned anything about coming in, but it clicked that he wanted to surprise you. It was a bold move, but you couldn’t help but be impressed. He smirked at you and your smile returned, genuine this time.
Mostly, he seemed at ease, but before you’d arrived, he’d kept his eyes down. You caught sight of a few girls glancing in his direction, but he was unaware of the attention he was getting. All of his focus was on you.
“Well, well,” you said. “What do we have here?”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Honey,” he said, slightly raising his eyebrows. “But nothing compares to the real thing.”
You caught onto his game immediately, stifling a shudder as a tingle ran down your spine. Who would have thought he was into this sort of thing?
You’d figured he might be kind of vanilla, but you just kept being pleasantly surprised by him. You bit your lower lip, eyes roaming over him appreciatively. He returned the gesture, taking his time to drink you in, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled slowly. 
“What’s your name, handsome?” 
He took a sip of his scotch. “Whatever you want it to be.”
“Hmmm, well I’ve always liked the name Aaron,” you said, offering him your hand. “Come with me, I’ll take you somewhere quieter where we can get to know each other.”
He took your hand, not letting go as you led him towards the stairs. You went up the steps in front of him, giving him a lovely view of your ass in a g-string. It took all of his willpower not to touch you; To let his broad hands roam over the expanse of your soft skin.
There would surely be enough time for that later.
Once in the VIP room, you had him sit down while you picked the music. It softly wafted out of the speakers, the slow rhythm so irresistible that you began to sway your hips to it.
Pink and blue lights bathed you in their romantic, dream-like hues. His dark eyes tracked your movements, sinuous and almost serpentine. He was utterly entranced, and he had to adjust himself in his seat.
“Like what you see?” You asked, grinning teasingly.
“You’re breathtaking,” he rasped, nodding. “So beautiful.”
You loved feeling the ardent intensity of his gaze — like a caress, making heat slowly course through you. You were absorbed by each other;  Nothing outside of this room – of this very moment – existed. 
You teased him further by toying with the straps of your micro bikini top, and he clenched his jaw, a low grunt stuck in his throat. 
“Come closer,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat before adding, “Please.”
You prowled towards him on all fours, and when he tried to reach for you, you grabbed his wrists and pinned them down at his sides.
You tsked, tilting your head to one side. “Hmm, think you can be good for me and keep your hands off?”
He nodded all too eagerly, making you smirk. You came up between his legs, your torso barely brushing his. Your lips were mere inches from his, too, but before he could be further tempted, you pulled back and turned around.
His fingers twitched at his sides as you sat on his lap, your back against his chest. Though you couldn’t hold down his hands at this angle, he was resolved to behave. You began to gyrate your hips ever so slowly, already feeling his prominent bulge pressing against your ass.
This time, you finally undid the straps of your top, letting it slide off of you. You heard his sharp intake of breath right next to your ear as you leaned back so he could get a better view of your front.
“You enjoy torturing me,” he gritted out. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“You just look so good when you’re all worked up like this,” you purred.
Then, to torture him even further, you grabbed his hands, bringing them to where your g-string hugged your hips.
“Hook your fingers here,” you instructed, and he immediately obeyed. 
You stood and bent forward, his thumbs helping pull your panties down. At this new angle, he had an up close and personal view of your newly exposed cunt, and he couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whimper.
You chuckled. “You all good there?”
Instead of responding, he slid down to his knees, pulling your underwear off the rest of the way. You stepped out of them and felt as his hands came back towards your hips, holding on firmly. 
All of his self restraint had seemingly shattered, and like a starving man, he started kissing at your thighs. You indulged him for a moment, biting back a soft moan as you felt his lips on your inner thigh. 
But then, surprisingly, you felt him nip and suck at the sensitive skin, sure to leave a mark.
“Hey, now!” You chastised, turning around and pushing him back a little. “Naughty, naughty, trying to bite more than you can chew. Didn’t I say hands off?”
“I wasn’t using my hands, technically,” he countered, smirking slightly. “But I’ll do better.”
“I’m sure you will.” You crossed your arms. “And you can start by making it up to me.”
“Yes, anything.”
You looked him over, still on his knees, eyes wide and eager. He truly looked like he would do anything for you at that moment.
“Worship me,” you said finally. “If you want to put your mouth on me, it has to be over every square inch.”
He licked his lips and leaned forward a little, unable to resist you. “That I can do, gladly.”
He dove into his task diligently, kissing his way up. Your fingers buried in his hair, keeping him close. He took his time, but when he reached the apex of your thighs once more, he looked up at you as if asking for permission.
But as much as you wanted to say yes, you didn’t want this part to end quite yet.
You tugged his head back lightly. “Keep going, you’ll get your prize after.”
He grunted, but acquiesced, licking up to your navel. You suppressed a shudder, already clenching around nothing. The build up was driving you near feral, but such desperate want was an addictive feeling. 
You almost caved in once more when he reached your breasts. His tongue circled one of your nipples, his teeth subsequently grazing the hardened peak. He repeated his motions with your other breast, but in a teasing retort, he moved onto your sternum before you could really bask in the pleasure.
And once he reached your throat, you couldn’t take it any longer. You grabbed his chin as you brought his lips to yours, eliciting a low moan from him as your tongue tangled with his.
“You want your prize?” You asked between kisses, nipping at his lower lip when he nodded. “How do you want it, Aaron?”
“Fuck me,” he said without hesitation. “Use me to give yourself pleasure. I just want to make you feel good.”
His words had you instantly dripping and you squeezed your thighs together to try and ease some of your ache. You felt like your knees might buckle at any moment, and you crushed your lips against his ravenously.
“Sit back down for me,” you urged.
He did so, making you bend down so as not to break contact with him. But you quickly pulled away to crouch in front of him, reaching for his belt.
“May I?” 
“Yes. Whatever you want, I’m all yours,” he said, shifting forward to help you undo his belt and pants.
You hummed as you freed him from his underwear, the tip of his cock glistening with precum. You gingerly ran the tips of your fingers over the prominent vein on his shaft, making him twitch.
“Someone’s excited,” you noted, smiling slyly. “Remember, hands off. I’m in control here. My turf, my rules.”
He nodded once more, swallowing hard. You let a string of saliva fall onto his cock and straightened back up, spreading it with your fingers. 
“Scoot over to the edge.”
You went on your hands and knees in front of him, sliding backwards until your hips were bracketed between his knees. You wiggled them a little enticingly, grinning at him over your shoulder.
“Be a dear and help me put it in, will you?” 
Your eyes fluttered shut as he slicked the head of his cock through your folds, coating it with your arousal. He pushed in slowly, stretching you deliciously, and both of you exhaled sharply as he bottomed out.
You started moving at a slow, even pace, working the entirety of his length until you adjusted to it. You soon picked up speed, unable to keep yourself from moaning wantonly. 
“Fuck, Honey…” he groaned. “Does that feel good?”
“So good,” you panted. “So fucking good.”
“Don’t stop,” he pleaded. “Please, cum all over my cock.”
Though he did not use his hands, his hips snapped up to meet yours, making his thrusts harder. He repeatedly hit a spot deep inside you that had you clawing at the floor, abdominal muscles tightening.
“Aaron, please, I-” the rest of the sentence died in your throat as pleasure seized you in its vice-like grip. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and you heard him moan out your name as his own orgasm washed over him. He spilled inside of you, thrusting shallowly as both of you rode out your ecstasy.
You were both dazed for a few more seconds, breathing heavily, still lost in one another. His hands caressed your hips affectionately — reverently, even.
As he pulled out of you, he helped you up and hauled you onto his lap. His arms encircled you, and you wiped his hair away from his sweaty forehead. 
“Well, safe to say we know each other pretty well now,” you chuckled breathily. 
“You did guess my name from the get go,” he said, also chuckling. 
He kissed you tenderly, pressing you tighter against him, like he just couldn’t get close enough. It made you melt, how he always made sure to show you how much he cared. 
“I kind of want to say I’m sorry for surprising you, but…” he started as he pulled away.
“Don’t,” you said, stroking his face. “I’m not sorry.”
“I’m not either,” he said, and you smiled at each other. “This was one of the most incredible nights of my life.”
“Hmm, something tells me you’re gonna become one of my regulars, Aaron.”
He kissed the tip of your nose. “I’ll be your favorite one.”
----
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e-r0da · 8 months
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A Strong Sorcerer
AN: First work so please let me know what you think! Don't really know where this came from tbh, just wanted to try my hand at writing :) Might make a part two if the inspo strikes!
Word Count: ~1.5k
CW: Mention of severe injury. Fluff hinting at a potential Yuuta x reader pairing.
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You were never going to be the strongest sorcerer.
Perhaps that’s not what the doctor said, but it’s what you understood.
Your fingers trailed your face softly, inching above your cheekbones and around the bridge of your nose, mapping out the bandages that hid what came of your first solo assignment. 
Perhaps this is how it feels, you thought. To prove yourself.
It wasn’t your mission, at least not originally. But as a newly enrolled second-grade with an untested talent for handling shikigami, the sorcerer commission was curious enough to sub you in for Megumi, who was busy enough. So you took the mission. You just wanted to be of use.  
But no one anticipated a special-grade curse to be there to greet you.
Curious, you tried touching your right eye. A searing bolt of pain wormed its way into your brain as your hand jolted from your face, white stars blooming in your mind’s eye. Fuck. You felt a bit sick to your stomach, trying your best to calm your breathing and bite back a yelp.
You forced yourself to think logistically.
You would never be the strongest. Fine. This was never about that, anyway.
Would the commission even name you a grade-one after this? Maybe. It was undeniable that you had potential. And even if they never did, well. That wouldn’t be what stopped you.
Most importantly, could you still do it?
Could you still kill that curse?
You sat silently. You didn’t know how to answer the question that mattered most.
Without your sight, how much longer would it take to do what was needed?
*
“We’re here. Hold still for a minute, I’ll grab your stuff first and help you in.”
“Thanks.”
You felt Megumi’s hand leave your shoulder, his warmth slipping behind you quietly, presumably down the hall where a duffel of your equipment and medical supplies had been set down at the dorm’s entrance.
He felt bad, you knew that. But you wish he hadn’t. Megumi didn’t need another burden to shoulder.
The sound of wood creaking distracted you. It sounded like it came from your upper left. Huh. He moved fast.
“Megumi, I should have it from here so you don’t ne—”
“Wait-no Rika I didn’t mean—!”
“YUUTA YOU LIAR!”
You couldn’t help but feel your eyebrows shoot up as the floor shook beneath you. You searched for a wall to keep you balanced. Wait...Rika?
“Please it’s really okay—”
“BUT YOU TOLD THEM NO ONIONS!!” The floor shook again. 
Oh yeah, yup. Yuuta was definitely back.
The corner of your mouth twitched as you piped up. “Did he at least get the ranch, Rika?”
“-oh my god...”
“—YUUTA WHERE IS THE RANCH??!?”
You heard Megumi quietly step to your left, a small sigh leaving him. “No ranch? Now that’s just wrong, man.”
Turning your head in the direction of his voice, you murmured an agreement.
A door creaked open, followed by the soft sound of Yuuta scratching the back of his head timidly. Even without your sight, you’d watched him do it enough in the past to picture it now with ease.
“...Hey.”
You began to smile at the sound of his voice. But then the air was squeezed from you in one fell swoop.
“EEEE!”
You clambered an arm around Rika’s bear-hugging form, trying to simultaneously give her a welcome-back pat and expand your lungs.
“I missed you too, girlie.” You breathed out.
“Rika, she’s injured.” Bless your heart, Megumi.
You were dropped quickly. 
Megumi quietly grabbed your shoulder once again before you could stumble.
“NOOOO! NOOO! I’M SORRY!!”
You laughed. “I’m fine, Rika. You did nothing wrong.”
You heard the special-grade curse whimper. 
“I MISSED ONEE-CHAN...” Sometimes, Rika reminds you of a baby sister. 
It was easy to forget what the small girl had become at times like this. You wondered a bit if soon it would be even easier, now that you couldn’t actually see her anymore.
“We both missed you.” Your head whipped around. 
Yuuta. It made your chest warm up a bit, knowing he sounded the same as ever.
“How are you feeling?” 
“Hungry, if I’m being honest.”
“WE GOT NUGGETS!!! YUUTA! YUUTA THE NUGGETS!!!”
You let out an excited gasp. “With—”
“—with honey mustard, yes. I’m on it!” Rika let out a satisfied hum as Yuuta went to find your nuggets.
“YUUTA WENT BACK FOR THE MUSTARD. HE WAS SO COOL!!”
“Wooow! How did he forget his ranch then?”
Yuuta let out a strangled sigh from inside his room.
And...did Megumi just snort? 
*
Licking the last of the honey mustard from the counter of your mouth, you took in the silence that filled the hall, jokes of the past hour or so fading into the walls. Megumi had left to help with a mission, but Yuuta was still here, sitting beside you, and now that he was sans Rika he was awfully quiet. 
You missed being able to read people’s faces.
He breaks the silence. 
“We should have been there.”
Ah. You grasp at the floor around you for a napkin before wiping your hands and face clean. It buys you a few seconds to conjure something logical to say.
“At least it's dead. It can’t hurt anyone else.”
“It hurt you, though.” Oof. Okay, we’re being direct today.
“…No use crying over spilt milk, Yuuta.”
“This feels more serious than spilt milk, y/n.”
Man. 
“Don’t worry about me.”
“…”
This kind of silence–awkward silence–between you two felt foreign. You usually found peace in his company, even when it was silent. And even when things went wrong, you were usually the one trying to convince Yuuta to seek out help–whether it be in the form of medicine, company, or a break. Having someone fuss over you so persistently instead made you itchy all over. 
You wanted it to stop.
“...Yuuta.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I…” for a brief moment, you thought you wanted to ask him for a hug. 
“Can I have your onions?” That was equally as bad.
“...oh. Yeah, lemme put them on your plate.”
“Thanks.”
The silence now was worse than before, with the only thing filling it being your obnoxious crunching and the smell of raw onion (why oh why did you do this to yourself) making things even more acidic feeling, if possible.
He tries again, softer this time, if that was even possible.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” 
For some reason his words get the onions lodged in your throat.
You get up quickly mid-retch, trying to escape the fucking onions–and Yuuta’s aura of pity.
He pats your back firmly at some point (while apologizing because he seems to think that this counts as hitting you??) and it dislodges the vegetable, much to your relief. 
“This is all my fault.” Jesus christ.
“Ohmygod Yuuta please–”
“I really told them no onions this time, though.” Oh. Oh.
You let loose a cackle, at the absurdity of it all. And soon enough, Yuuta follows suit, hand still lingering on your back. Suddenly it feels like how things usually are between you two. Easy.
You breathe in deeply, taking a moment to recover from your laughing/choking fit before remembering what it is he said that got you in this state in the first place.
“I know I can talk to you, Yuuta. You’re probably the only person I would talk to...like that.”
The honesty in your voice somewhat surprises even you, making you a bit embarrassed. From the way his hand grips your shirt slightly, you would say the vulnerability shocked him too.
“–But! For now, can you take me back to my room?” you scratched the base of your skull. “I could really use a nap after all that yummy stuff.”
His chuckle is delicate, understanding. “I’d be happy to.” 
You don’t quite hear him move until you feel his warm breath fanning your neck, his hand softly holding your arm. 
“And...”
“Yeah?” Your cheeks feel hot.
“Whether I worry about you or not is up to me.”
At that you were quiet, brows scrunched together as your heart felt just a bit more heavy with every passing moment you spent together.
Yuuta was one of the few people who could still make you…uncomfortable. But not because he was mean. Never because he was mean. People like that had long since stopped bothering you. Rather, he reminded you of your mother’s hand in your hair, calming you between sobs. He reminded you of the freely-given ‘I love you’s’ of your baby sister. He reminded you of the only people you buried. Of tenderness.
He was probably the best friend you had ever made. It was just a shame that you had a death wish.
After a few moments of hobbling around together, he places your hand at the door knob of your room. 
“Here we are.”
You try to be honest. To warn him, inadvertently, as you step from your shared space in the hall to the one that was just your own.
“I still plan on fighting, you know.”
He doesn’t even miss a beat.
“Then I’ll help you train.”
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elysianeclipxe · 1 year
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10:32pm | seventeen joshua
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genre/au: fluff, bf!joshua // warnings: none // wc: 0.6k
summary: it seems as if the days feel longer and more tiring, but it looks like joshua has the perfect solution for that problem
sidenote: the burnout is real. so tired lately and the feeling of writing isn't the same but i just think i need to chill out a bit and find some inspo again :) so here's a shua timestamp to cheer me and others up. if you feel tired lately, pls be sure to take a break and have some needed self care or fun
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"Knock knock! Coming in!" The door lightly creaks open and reveals Joshua holding a tray of food with a smile. "How's my brainiac doing?"
You let out a sigh and send him a tired smile, "well, your brainiac is very very tired and has a lot on her mind. But she does feel a little better after seeing her sweetheart of a boyfriend." Your arms open automatically when you see him getting closer to you and in return he quickly puts the tray down on your table and rushes to hug you.
Ahhhh, the lovely feeling of comfort. You needed this, you really needed this right now. Work was hard on you lately and it just felt like so much weight on your shoulders, it was so demanding on your energy. So even a little break really helped you out especially if it was from Shua.
"Thank you baby, I really needed that. Now I have to get back to work–"
"Nope! Not happening, at least not with me around. You have been working day and night for the past few weeks and barely taken a good break." He cradles your face in his hand and takes a good look at you. Eyes looking as if it was being pushed to the limit, hair quite knotted from not being brushed for a long time, –probably hasn't been washed in a while as well– and a small yawn making its way out of your mouth. It was so obvious how tired you were.
Shua gently directs you over to the bathroom and hands you some fresh clothes he grabbed on the way. "Go take a shower and do all of that self care stuff you love. I'll prepare the bed and grab some more food, then we can get comfortable and watch movies till we fall asleep." He ruffles your hair and shows you that adorable grin of his, eye smile and all. "It's time for a proper break, you deserve it, afterall you have been working really hard. So relax, okay?"
You nod in response and give a short peck before heading into the bathroom to clean yourself up. The water felt so soothing on your skin, the whole thing so refreshing. You dry yourself before changing into the clothes that Shua gave you. Comfy, he picked out a good pair.
"I'm done showering now. So, what are we watching first?"
"The new thriller movie. They released it a week ago but its reviews look pretty good, hopefully it is. You okay with that?" His body eases at your smile, even with no response he already knew you enough to understand that smile. He gets under the covers of your bed and gestures for you to join him. So you do.
He presses play and you quickly feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. Surely it'll be okay to close your eyes, just for a little while. "You can sleep if you want to, darling." Of course he saw.
You grin tiredly at him and sink further in his arms, allowing the warmth to envelop your whole body. You look up at him and feel as though everything has melted away. "Shua," you whisper. "Thank you, for this.. I know you probably don't think it's much on your part but I still appreciate it."
"Hey, what are partners for? You take care of me and I'll take care of you. That's how it works, so rest up now." He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before you feel your eyes start to shut and allow sleep to take over.
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