#i literally thought all this on the walk home. it’s incredibly that i wrote it down so well afterwards | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daemour · 16 days

Text

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees. You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

660 notes · View notes

x-lunawrites-x · 8 months

Text

Yours

Your attempt at making him jealous at a work party goes wrong...Or incredibly right?

Blade x fem! Reader smut

Word count: 1.1K

Content warning: sexual content/ established relationship/ fem bodied reader/ piv sex/ unprotected sex/ creampie/ semi public sex (in a closet)/ jealous Bladie

A/N: wrote this in a rush to just get the idea out of my head lol. It's not very good but imma post it for the sake of progress. Hope you enjoy!

Blade stares at you from across the room as you laugh at some random joke some random coworker of yours told. The problem isn't the guy, it's the goddamn short tight dress you're wearing. Well he's a part of the problem too, checking out your ass and buying you so many drinks Blade wonders if he actually thinks you're gonna sleep with him tonight.

Blade usually tries not to assume things but he's almost sure you're fucking with him.

He decides to approach you after a couple hours, it's not that he's possessive, he really isn't. At least not at first. But as the night goes on he can literally feel his blood start to boil. You're touching the guy's arm and drinking and laughing for god's sake!

You notice him as he approaches you and your colleague, and you decide to make your situation even worse. "oh hey" you then turn to your friend to introduce your partner to him. "This is Blade, he's a friend of mine"

Blade looks at you with the most confused look you've ever seen but you decide to play it cool and laugh it off until your colleague excuses himself to the bathroom.

"are you fucking with me?" he immediately asks with an irritated tone. He's sure that you are but he still doesn't know what else to say.

"what? What does that mean, Bladie?" you feign innocence as if this whole thing isn't just an elaborate ploy to grab his attention and make him a bit jealous.

"I know you are." he's not gonna entertain you anymore, he puts a hand on your waist as he stands next to you, he continues to whisper. "did you think you could get away with this easily? dressing all slutty and flirting with random guys. acting like you don't scream my name every night."

You start to finally realize the depth of what you're doing to him and the consequences that await you in a couple hours. The mere thought of it makes your brain feel fuzzy and warm.

"go get your coat from upstairs. we're leaving." he doesn't even ask for your opinion on it. It's a demand and you know when to meet his demands. He's had enough of the party and he just can't wait to get you home and teach you a lesson on 'how not to behave'.

You walk up the stairs and he can't help but stare at how your figure moves in that outfit until your dress shifts a certain way. He just can't take it anymore. He follows you upstairs quickly, catching you off guard as you step into the closet to find your coat.

"Hey wh- Blade? What are you..." he closes the door behind him and your sentence trails off. You know what he's doing. Your bodies are pressing against each other and there isn't much space to move. You can almost smell the lust in the air.

Blade isn't usually very rough but you're sure he's gonna fuck the mere idea of making him jealous out of you. He grips your chin tightly, making you look up at him. You can see his eyes glimmering even in the dim lighting.

Blade isn't one with a particular jealous streak. Or is he?

"is this what you want? Wearing no panties and laughing with guys just to get me to fuck you? Couldn't help yourself, yeah?"

You've never seen this side of him before, maybe due to the fact that you don't usually get into situations like this. But you're not sure what to say, your brain is a bit worried about what's coming but your cunt is getting wetter with every word he says. You certainly are gonna get what you wanted and you're gonna get more.

He trails his thumb on your bottom lip and you open your mouth before he even says anything, taking his finger into your mouth and sucking on it gently.

"now you're being obedient huh? Stay still and take it then, stupid brat"

he lifts one of your legs up with ease and you can feel the top of his cock line up with your entrance. He doesn't mess around or waste and time as he buries his thick cock inside you completely in one stroke. "aahhn! Blad-" he doesn't let you finish your sentence and slips his left index and middle finger into your mouth.

His action has a sense of dominance that makes your cunt clench around him and your tongue swirling around his fingers as you suck on them. He feels what he deos to you and he speeds up his thrusts, each one still somehow as hard as they could be.

You can only stand there and drool around his fingers as his cock rearranges your guts, your nails marking his skin as you hold on to his shoulders for balance. The room is filled with the smell of sex, the muffled sounds of your moans and his grunts against your neck whenever he completely sheathed himself inside you.

He's rougher than usual but you can sense intense emotions in his every move. He's pounding into you like he hates you but he's holding you like you're a part of his body. Like his lips are just meant to be on your neck and his hand belongs on your thigh. It's like you're a part of him, crucial to his existence.

He can feel you tightening around him again, close to cumming as tears roll down your cheeks and dampen your neck from how hard he's going. He speeds up his thrusts, getting a but sloppy but still as deep, aiming to get you both to your release.

"you're mine...You're mine. fuck...You-uhh you're m-mine."

His voice sounds desperate as he seems to lose his mind in the moment, shooting white ropes of sticky cum inside you, the feeling also pushing you over the edge as you cream on his cock.

He slowly takes his fingers out of your mouth, his face still buried in your neck and sucking on it gently as you take deep breaths, coming down from your high. You can't help but smile at the mantra that left his lips seconds ago.

Blade is a man with a jealous streak. He doesn't trust the world because he's scared it might take you away from him. And god knows it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm yours, I promise" You smile as you mutter the words, running your hand through his hair as he takes the soft smell of your hair into his lungs. "now let's get the hell out of here."

#hsr smut #hsr blade #hsr headcanons #hsr blade smut #blade smut #honkai starrail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail smut #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail headcanons

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mixelation · 3 months

Text

oh yeah i wrote this last night

“No,” Shisui said, flatly. “Absolutely not.”

He still maintained his proper at ease pose, feet apart and arms folded behind his back. It was a stark contrast to his rather blatant words.

“I recognize you have a very… strong interpersonal relationship,” Minato said carefully. “But like all our shinobi, Tori knows how to behave professionally when on missions.”

“With all due respect,” Shisui replied, “if she wasn’t a problem, you could hand her to any other captain.”

Minato’s lips thinned. He had wasted so many years believing Tori was the most personable member of Team 4, and now look what he and Kushina had allowed her to become. Now that he needed to temporarily pull a fuinjutsu master for ANBU, it was becoming clear she’d somehow ended up on the shit list of several key ANBU members. She was as bad as Itachi in terms of reputation, except she had to clout within ANBU to command respect.

He could just put Kushina on this mission, but her personality was wildly unsuited for ANBU. Tori was theoretically a much better pick. She could be incredibly discreet when she wanted to be.

Shisui’s dark eyes watched him, waiting for a reply. Unlike any member of Team 4, Shisui was not openly judging him for his decisions, or the fact that he’d just let Tori piss off half of ANBU and done nothing to intervene.

“Uchiha Itachi recommended you,” Minato said finally. “He believes your skills would complement, and that despite your differences, you would be able to read each other well, despite never having run a mission together.”

He could tell Shisui was fighting hard to not react, like a good ANBU.

“Perhaps Itachi should captain this mission then,” Shisui said finally. “They have an excellent mission record together.”

“You know I can’t assign them together,” Minato replied.

In theory, he could, because he could do whatever he wanted as Hokage. But now that they were dating, he didn’t want to throw them together into a high-stakes mission until after they’d had some trainings on workplace romances and run a few easier missions together, if they wanted to explore that. Romantic feelings and missions could be a disaster for both the mission and the relationship.

(Kushina would be so upset if they broke up.)

Shisui took a deep breath.

“If you force this,” Shisui said, steely eyed, “I will consider resigning from ANBU.”

Wow, Minato thought. He hadn’t thought they’d disliked each other this much.

“I will take your opinion into consideration,” Minato said, and then dismissed him.

Minato distracted himself with some more mission assignments for an hour, but he inevitably came back around to the Tori problem.

The unfortunate truth of the situation was that he did have to build an ANBU team around her, rather than carefully pull the best agents from a range of different candidates.

The mission was a rare invitation from the Water Country Daimyo. He wanted a certain political enemy eliminated, but all three of Kiri’s own attempts to assassinate the mark had failed, because the mark had somehow turned his home into a maze of fuinjutsu barriers and traps. So the Daimyo wanted Konoha to infiltrate, kill only the mark and his two partners, and also not leave any evidence a foreign ninja had done this so he didn’t have to explain anything to the Mizukage.

The fuuinjutsu requirement, along with baseline ANBU requirements, meant literally only Kushina and Tori could reliably do this, and Kushina was horrible at being subtle.

Could he maybe move the mission out of ANBU and widen his pool of other teammates…? No, it really had to be ANBU.

What if he just did the mission?

Kakashi walked into the office to find Minato with both hands in his hair, glaring at the current ANBU roster. ANBU Jaguar would be perfect for this, actually, except Tori had brought Jaguar to Book Club the time Bounty Hunter Kakuzu had inexplicably shown up.

“Have you also been speaking to genin?” Kakashi asked, dropping a folder onto Minato’s desk.

Minato stared up at him helplessly. That was right; he’d asked for the newest Jounin Sensei to turn in their six month report on their genin teams in a tad early so they could discuss entering them in the Chunin Exams this round.

Team 7 must have really done a whammy on Kakashi if he was the first to turn his in.

“ANBU is sort of like speaking to children,” Minato said, and Kakashi dropped into a seat across from him to listen to him whine.

“Just make Itachi deal with her,” Kakashi said when Minato finished. “Or are you afraid their relationship will turn them into a vortex of toxic behavior likes of which ANBU has never seen?”

“Something like that,” Minato replied. He absently picked up a pen and jotted down a note to himself to tell them they had to do workplace romance training so he never had to deal with this again.

Then Minato said, “I really thought Shisui was a good fit. They’re not friendly, but they’re civil at Book Club.”

“Ah, it’s because Shisui is intimately aware she’s a manipulative little monster,” Kakashi said. He settled back further in his chair and crossed his legs. “He used to get weird about having to work with Itachi too.”

Minato sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk. He should have a conversation with Tori about being more pleasant. Except if he used that wording both she and, more importantly, Kushina would yell at him about being anti-feminist because… something something women were expected to be kind and gentle where men weren’t.

He just wanted her to not use her teammates as psych experiments…

“Hey,” Minato said, eyeing Kakashi up and down. “Do you want a break from your genin?”

Kakashi, currently fiddling with a pen, froze.

“It’ll only be a couple weeks,” Minato said. “I’ll stick them with someone else and tell them it’s an evaluation for candidacy to the Chunin Exam.”

Kakshi looked less than convinced.

“I of course enjoy my cute little ninja sibling,” Kakashi said very slowly. “But only in my personal time. When there’s other people to point her at.”

Minato could force the issue and just assign Kakashi to the mission. But he was trying so hard to get people to get along on their own. That was his philosophy as Hokage.

Of course, sometimes people just didn’t want to get along, and then he had to use other tactics.

“I’ll get you Jiraiya’s current manuscript,” Minato offered. “And just think: it’ll be really, really funny.”

Kakashi looked more considering.

xXx

Tori stared down at the mask on the desk. Her eyes rose, meeting MInato’s. They had a certain dewey quality to them that almost made him feel bad.

“Why would you do this to me?” Tori asked, sounding betrayed.

“Wow,” Kakashi said, putting a hand on a hip. He was a nostalgic sight, in full ANBU uniform again. “Usually people are overjoyed to work with me.”

Tori made a face like she didn’t believe this.

“It’s just like any other mission,” Minato assured her. “Just with a couple extra rules.”

Tori reached hesitantly for the mask.

“If you make me ANBU Songbird,” she said, turning it over in her hands, “I am going missing-nin.”

“So,” Minato said blandly, “a stricter behavior code is part of your temporary ANBU assignment–”

“Maa, it’s a Nightingale,” Kakashi interrupted, completely undermining Minato lecture on how he should technically give Tori several demerits and send her off to a psych eval for her joke. “Which I believe is a songbird. Suborder Passeri, right?”

Kakashi had definitely looked this up beforehand, specifically for this.

“Why would you do this to me?” Tori repeated.

“I was being sensitive,” Minato defended. “You went on for a very long time about your ancestor Nightingale, and it was available.”

Tori stared at him, clearly confused.

“The statistician?” he tried.

“Florence Nightingale?” Tori said, sounding mildly scandalized. “She’s not my ancestor!”

Minato could have sworn Deidara had referred to this Nightingale person as “one of Tori’s people” to explain the strange given name. Maybe he hadn’t meant she was part of Tori’s family after all…?

“No one gets to choose their own mask,” Minato said, backtracking. “I try to allow people to turn down temp ANBU assignments, but we really don’t have anyone else with the required skillset.”

Tori scowled down at the mask some more. Minato would at least hear her out, if she decided to give an actual argument for not wanting to run an ANBU mission, but she didn’t offer one up.

“Maa, I’ll try to fill the rest of the team with people you haven’t personally harassed,” Kakashi said. “Although that’s not a long list…”

Tori held the mask up to her face experimentally, then pulled it away.

“Do you sterilize these between uses?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” Minato said. “But, um, that one’s been in storage for years. I’d clean it again.”

“Don’t worry, my cute little sister,” Kakashi drawled, “I will teach you in the way of mask hygiene.”

Tori shot Minato another pained, betrayed look.

“He means that as your captain, he’ll brief you on how this works,” Minato said. He almost reassured Tori that Kakashi really was one of their best. But she already knew that.

Kakashi swung an arm around her shoulder and walked her out, listing tips for cleaning her mask and borrowed armor as he went.

Minato watched them go with conflicting emotions. Kakashi and Tori… made each other behave worse, in public. It was heartwarming when he looked at them as young people he’d mentored: their mutual interests brought each other out of their shells and they enjoyed each other’s company. It was also kind of a nightmare when he thought of them as soldiers under his command. He trusted both of them to reel it in once the mission started, but Tori’s orientation would almost definitely end with more names on the list of ANBU Tori had personally harassed.

Ah well. It would be character building for whoever they ended up harassing.

#reborn au #my writing

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krmy2386 · 1 year

Text

Stupid Jar Opener

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader

PLEASE DON’T STEAL!!!

Be kind😅 I wrote this in about 20 minutes…

I have had NO MOTIVATION recently… this is my attempt to get back to it❤️.

Rooster woke up with the biggest smile on his face. He had been gone for almost three months on a deployment. He came home to his cozy house and his beautiful wife.

Rooster reached to feel for Y/N and was met with the cold bed. He smirked. Though he wished to hold on to her for a little bit longer this morning. He knew where she was. He knew that despite being separated for months, she wanted to keep their home as normal as possible for him. And on Saturdays, Y/N would wake up, start coffee and start to make breakfast.

Nothing too special, just eggs, bacon and toast. Bradley knew Y/N didn’t have to do this. He knew this wasn’t some kind of prehistoric mindset of women serving. He knew this was her own special way of showing love. Y/N was an incredibly independent person. But there was one thing. Every Saturday, like clock work, Rooster would be woken up by Y/N holding a jar of his favorite jam, pouting.

He knew it drove her crazy that as a strong adult woman, she couldn’t manage to open a jar. Bradley would gladly, and smugly, open it every time. All while silently praying Y/N never caught on to the fact he was secretly tightening it Friday nights before bed.

Bradley knew this was an insane thing to do. But since he was gone so much, he enjoyed feeling needed while he was at home. As he laid there the smile slowly faded from his face. It had been about 20 minutes and there was no Y/N and no jar.

He was about to get up and see is she had run away when the door opened. Bradley looked to the door and smirked, “Jar trouble again?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Not this time. Breakfast is ready.” She said sassily as she turned and walked away.

Bradley froze. ‘What?’ Roaster thought. ‘She doesn’t need me to open the jar? That is literally all I am good for around here!’

Bradley quickly got up and rushed to the kitchen. He stared at the table which had not one but three different jars of jams and jellies almost mocking him.

A smiling Y/N handed him a plate and he snapped, “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Bradley we’re married. What are you taking about?” Y/N asked.

“Then what the hell is this?” Bradley said starting to panic.

“Breakfast?” Y/N asked again, even more confused.

“I MEAN THE JARS! How did you open them?” Bradley said almost yelling.

Y/N looked at her husband’s very serious face and then broke into laughter.

She walked to the counter and opened a drawer revealing a plastic apparatus.

“It’s a jar opener.” Y/N said calmly, as if talking to a spooked animal. “I got it so I could still eat while you were gone.”

Bradley looked at the inanimate object and immediately recognized it as the enemy.

“No.” Bradley said, “Get rid of it! Opening jars is literally the only thing you need me for and I will not be replaced by a wannabe can opener!” Bradley was deathly serious.

Y/N, however, was in tears from laughter. She understood where Bradley was coming from and thought this might happen. But never fear, she had a plan.

“Well you two will have to learn to get along. Now eat before it gets cold.” Y/N said and then kissed his cheek.

Bradley pouted and sat down. ‘Now what will happen? She’s going to realize I’m useless around her and leave me!’ He thought.

Y/N could tell by his silence that her loving, but over dramatic, husband probably thought they were as good as divorced.

“Oh! While I’m thinking about it,” Y/N said, getting Rooster’s attention.

“The step-stool broke while you were gone and I haven’t been able to get a new one. Can you please check and change some of the lightbulbs when you get a chance?”

“YES!” Bradley shouted, “Absolutely! In fact I’ll go do that now!” He rushed off leaving half a plate of food.

‘Ha! Take that stupid jar opener!’ He thought to himself.

Y/N shook her head and smiled. She knew it would work.

TAG LIST- Thank you for the encouragement❤️

@luckyladycreator2

@b-bradshaw

@t-rexs

@rosiahills22

@vienna1644

@timbradfordsboot

@blue-aconite

@barbiegirlbaby

@ahopelessromanticwritersworld

@wanniiieeee

@insomniac23

@xinsonyax

@goawayi-mreading

@daughterofthereaper02

@a-reader-and-a-writer

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #top gun

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hard-core-super-star · 8 months

Note

Hello, I have a request for Hailee Steinfeld x reader: The reader works at a law firm and is a serious and kinda intimidating person, while also being really loving with close ones. The two have been married for a while and have kids, and before their anniversary reader surprises Hailee with the help of their children with a cute little cake and presents. It was chaotic to calm the kids’ excitement but the reader eventually worked it out.

I’m sorry if the request is kinda plain or doesn’t have enough info, it’s my first time requesting:)

I just now discovered your page and I absolutely adore your writing, it’s super original and fun to read.❤️

honeycomb [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: you decide to let your kids help you bake a cake for your wife and cute chaos ensues.

warnings: none; quite literally the softest, most cutest fluff i've ever written; cheesy nicknames; incredibly blunt children; hailee being way too proud of being the favorite

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: first of all, thank you so much for your kind words, lovely anon! this request was NOT plain, it was wonderful, thank you for sending it in. i was giggling and kicking my feet every time i wrote the word 'wife' and i can only hope you react the same way while reading. [i purposely left the descriptions and names of the kids vague and gender-neutral so you can picture them any way you want...and yes, both of their names are references to hailee projects, i couldn't resist]

* * * * * * *

You’re not sure what possessed you to invite your kids to help you bake a cake for their mom but you’re sure your kitchen will never look the same again.

You couldn’t deny that the idea was cute, and you adored the smiles you received from the twins when you offered to let them help you, but now you were covered in flour and chasing around two eight-year-olds on a sugar high. Hailee can say whatever she wants but they both got that restless spirit from her and not you.

A restless spirit that was going to get somebody in trouble and considering how much your wife loves spoiling your kids, that somebody was going to be you. You don’t really mind, the mere thought of getting ‘lectured’ by her being enough to make you chuckle to yourself.

Unfortunately, you’re supposed to be playing the role of a responsible adult right now and laughing the way you are only makes the twins believe their rambunctiousness is being rewarded.

“Charlie, no pushing,” you say, forcing yourself to sound strict. (Or as strict as you can be with two adorable pairs of brown eyes staring up at you like you hold all the answers to the universe) “Come on, help me clean up a little before your mom comes home.”

Your request gets mostly ignored but at least they walk back to the kitchen with you. You walk around, cleaning countertops with scattered bits of flour and sugar, while pretending you don’t notice how restless they’re getting. Their excitement is too endearing for you to be annoyed by what a hard time Charlie’s having staying still.

It’s almost funny how much more tolerant you are when it comes to your family. If anyone back at the office was tapping their foot the way the small brunette is, you’d probably glare at them. Now, all you can do is smile and try to come up with a way to entertain both kids.

The more reserved of the two speaks up before you get a chance to offer them something to do. “When’s mom coming back?”

“Hopefully in the next thirty minutes,” you reply as you sneak a glance at the clock. You decide it’s best not to point out the fact that you’ve been saying that for the past hour or so.

Hailee was clearly running late but you’re definitely not the right person to complain about that. You’re just glad she’s found another project to be passionate about. Especially since it took a lot of convincing to get her to go back to acting once the twins were old enough to understand why their mom worked at such weird hours.

You were just glad your own job allowed you to work from home a few days a week so your kids never felt like they had to take on the world on their own. The last thing you want is for them to feel like you never spend time together as a family.

Hence why you asked for the day off from your highly demanding job to prepare a surprise for your wife. Every year she insisted more and more that she didn’t need you to do anything special for your anniversary, that spending time with you every day was the only gift she could ever want, but that never stopped you from finding some way to do something for her. This year was the first year that you got your kids involved and you can only imagine the look of joy you’re bound to receive because of it.

“The cake’s done!”

You turn toward the oven as soon as you hear the announcement with a smile on your face. “Good job, little bumblebee.”

The nickname is a little too on the nose for your liking but it’s incredibly fitting and it makes the twins smile like nothing else…except maybe Hailee. They’re going through a phase where all they want to do is be around her and honestly, you can’t be mad about that because you’re exactly the same way. That’s probably where they got that from actually.

The twins start chattering excitedly about the cake while you carefully take it out of the oven and place it on the kitchen island. It honestly looks good as long as you ignore all the chaos making it left behind. Then again, chaos seems to be the main love language of your eight-year-olds and who are you to deny them?

“Okay, who wants to help me decorate it?”

You had no idea the kind of response those words were going to get.

Turns out, the twins not only got their restless spirits from Hailee but they also got her creativity and her badly hidden perfectionism. (Although you might share the blame for that last trait) It takes practically all your energy and your focus to keep them somewhat contained and stop them from arguing about what shape to draw and whether or not to write something. You're in the middle of spelling out the word ‘anniversary’ for them when the distinct sound of your wife’s voice steals your attention.

“What's going on in here?”

The speed at which both Charlie and Em move is enough to amaze any speedster in any universe. Hailee just barely manages to brace herself before they both collide into her body.

“We baked you a cake!” Em announces with a smile that looks identical to the one on your wife’s face.

“Is that right?” Hailee’s warm eyes shift between both of the adorable faces staring up at her.

“Yeah, Em and I did all the work! Right, mom?”

You see no point in correcting your very excited child over something so endearing. “Yeah, that's right, bee. And you both did a great job. You didn't even need me here.”

“Of course we needed you!” You prepare yourself for the sweet comment that no doubt follows. “The shelves are too high.”

The sound of Hailee’s laugh softens the blow a little bit. There's nothing quite like the bluntness of a child, something that you've started to learn the hard way.

“Thank you for the cake, my loves.” She leans down to give each of the twins a kiss on their foreheads. “How about you guys go pick what movie you want to watch tonight?”

They immediately run off in the direction of the living room, giving you and Hailee a small moment of peace.

“Happy anniversary, darling,” you say as you make your way toward her. “Did you like your surprise?”

“Let me think about it,” she replies, her voice tinged with a playfulness you've loved and adored since the day you met her. “I loved it, baby. Thank you.”

You wrap your arms around her and pull her toward you once you’re close enough. “Don't thank me, I didn't do anything according to the twins.”

“Try not to sound so bitter, my love.”

“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes but the smile on your face makes it clear that you don’t actually mind the joke. “You’re their favorite and you know it.”

“It’s not my fault that they have good taste.”

You’d love to argue with her but you have more important priorities in mind right now. Starting with kissing your gorgeous wife.

You lean in for a short, sweet, kiss, relishing the feeling of her lips against yours after spending most of the day away from each other. She lets out a quiet hum of approval as you kiss and the sound makes your smile grow until you’re forced to pull away.

“I have a gift for you,” you whisper into the space between you.

“y/n-”

“I know, I know.” You give her a quick peck to silence her yearly complaint. “But I saw it and I couldn’t resist.

You reach into your back pocket and pull out a small velvet box. Hailee raises her eyebrow once she sees it. “You’re not going to propose to me again, are you?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No, I think I got it perfect the first time.”

You lift the box up toward her before opening it up to reveal the necklace inside. It’s not anything extravagant, and you honestly worry it’s a little too cheesy, but your wife’s eyes light up at the sight of it just the same.

“Babe…”

“I thought you’d like to have your little bumblebees around all the time,” you explain as your own eyes drift down. The cute charm dangling from the gold chain is of a small beehive with two tiny bees on either side of it. As soon as you saw it, you thought of the twins and you knew Hailee would love it.

The huge smile on her face tells you you were right. “I want to be mad at you for breaking the ‘no gifts’ rule but this is adorable.” She gently takes the necklace out of its holding place and hands it to you. “Help me put it on?”

She turns around and you’re briefly transported back to your first date. Back when you were young and stupid and sure you would only be a tiny speck in Hailee’s dating history. You’ve never been happier to be proven wrong.

You reach out to move her hair out of the way, letting your fingertips graze her soft skin, before clasping the necklace together and letting it rest on her neck. You can’t stop yourself from placing a few kisses along her shoulder and grinning at the sound of her breath catching in her throat. It’s these small moments that make you fall in love all over again.

The brunette seems to read your mind and she lets out a soft whisper. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Lee.”

The moment is interrupted by the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching you. “Moms, why are you taking so long?”

You respond to the question with one of your own. “Did you guys pick out a movie?”

“We couldn’t decide,” Em says with a tiny pout. “We want mom to pick.”

Hailee couldn’t hold in her proud grin even if she tried. “I think I love you more and more each day.”

All three of you reply with your own words of affection, filling the room with a small chorus of love. You step back from your wife and motion toward the forgotten cake on the counter. "I'll take care of the cake, go help them figure out what to watch."

She nods in response before leading the tiny rascals out of the kitchen and back toward the living room. You admire their retreating forms for a few moments, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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pupmini · 6 months

Text

First Date (Bang Chan x Reader)

!!PT 1!!

summary: Day to day life was perfectly uneventful, you wake up, go to work, make coffee, go home, and start all over again. But today... you met Chan.

pairing: bang chan x f!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: slight angst/comfort.

general warnings: barista!mc, slow burn, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, cursing, mentions of death.

word count: ~5.2k

chapter content: mentions of food, coffee shop manager!Changbin, nonidol!Chan, nonidol!Han, frist meets.

author's note: I have literally never written fanfiction before BUT I wrote this for my best friend, Baylee!! So anyway, I am so terribly sorry if this is bad! Please comment any errors/thoughts about the work!

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The blaring alarm pierced through the veil of your dreams, a relentless assault on the peace that only moments ago had surrounded you. Groggily, you fumbled on the nightstand for the offending device, your hand clumsily slapping at the snooze button in a desperate attempt to silence the intrusion before your hand slips and it falls off your night stand, alarm still blaring.

“God damn it…” You curse under your breath as a resentful sigh leaves your lips. Reluctantly, you threw off the warmth of the covers and reached for your phone, the bright screen reading 4:30AM. Your body was protesting the untimely disturbance as the coldness in the air replaced the coziness of your bed. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow through the curtains, felt like a sanctuary you were being forcibly expelled from. The cool floor beneath your feet served as a stark reminder that the inviting embrace of your bed was now just a fading memory.

As you stood there, the harsh reality of the impending workday began to settle in. The day ahead loomed like an insurmountable mountain, and as much as you didn’t want to go make coffee for stuck up business men and housewives with too much time on their hands, you promised to open the shop this morning and you were absolutely kicking yourself for it.

Dragging yourself toward the bathroom, you squinted against the bright light, your reflection in the mirror a testament to the reluctant and incredibly rude awakening. With each passing minute, the realization that the sanctuary of sleep was slipping away. The only thing keeping you moving was knowing you got to have a free cup of coffee as soon as you got there.

The clock ticks, the seconds slipping away, and with each passing moment, the inevitable draws nearer. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating the merits of calling in sick, but reality nudges you with a firm reminder of bills and responsibilities. With a heavy sigh, you brush your teeth and hair as you attempt to blink away the grogginess in your eyes. The morning routine is a series of half-hearted motions. Your reflection in the bathroom mirror wears the exhaustion of someone who'd rather be doing anything but going to work.

The uniform feels like a straitjacket, but you squeeze into it, donning the required apron with a resignation that accompanies the mundane. As you lace up your shoes, you can almost hear the distant and antagonistic laughter of those still wrapped in the warm embrace of their dreams.

The walk to work is a slow march, the chilly air of Seoul biting at your skin. The vibrant sunrise paints the sky, a cruel juxtaposition to your muted mood. The comforting scent of freshly ground coffee wafts from the shop, a mixed blessing as it both heralds the start of another day and wraps you in the familiar embrace of your workplace as you tuck yourself behind the counter swiftly.

The clock on the wall ticks accusingly as you rush through the door, a whirlwind of apologies already forming on your lips. Your boss, Changbin, glances up from behind the counter, an amused smirk playing on his lips. He raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise.

"Late again, huh?" he teases, the playful lilt in his voice betraying the mock severity of his expression.

You roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath. "Traffic was ridiculous, Changbin. I swear, the universe conspires against my punctuality."

Changbin leans against the counter, crossing his arms with a knowing smile. "The universe, huh? Must be a powerful force to reckon with."

You shoot him a playful glare, knowing you're caught in the act of making excuses. "Well, you know, the universe has its ways."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Alright, Miss Universe, we'll let it slide this time. But don't make it a habit. The coffee shop can't run on fashionable tardiness alone."

You feign offense, placing a hand over your heart. "Fashionable tardiness is an art form, Changbin. A rare talent that only a select few possess."

He laughs, the tension dissipating like steam from a freshly brewed cup. "Well, I suppose we're lucky to have such a talented individual on our team,” He says with a sarcastic grin. “Now, go work your magic behind the counter before the suburban moms revolt.”

You give him a mock salute, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Consider it done, Captain Changbin. The coffee revolution will have to wait for another day."

Customers trickle in, their orders becoming a monotonous hum. With each espresso shot pulled, you feel a little more awake, a little more alive. The routine becomes a rhythm, a dance with the coffee machines. And as you hand over that first latte of the day, you realize that despite the initial reluctance for starting the day, there's a certain satisfaction in being part of the daily grind. And to which, you let out a small laugh at your own pun and shake your head before glancing back up to be met with the next customer.

At first glance, you were greeted with chocolatey brown eyes that crinkled a little as he smiled at you politely. He looked friendly, giving you a small bow of the head, “Hey, how are you?”

He’s australian… bonus points in addition to his looks.

“I’m well, thanks for asking,” You say, returning the head nod to him, “what can I get for you?” You smile, tucking a marker behind your ear as you ready yourself at the register for his order.

“Ah… can I just get that last blueberry muffin?” He asked, pointing into the display case below the register before putting his hands in his pockets.

“Anything to drink with that?” You say as you slide open the glass pane and pick up the muffin with some tongs, gently sliding it into a brown paper bag and setting it on the counter.

“I’m not huge on coffee or tea, so…” He laughs slightly, his head dropping to his chest in slight embarrassment as he meets your gaze again.

“We have some lemonade refreshers if you want? They’re low on caffeine but still wake you up a bit--” You say, picking up a cup and slipping the marker out from your ear.

“Sure, why not,” the man smiles at you, his eyes flicking between you and the cup in your hands.

“Cool, and your name?” You ask with a smile, as you bite down on the lid to the marker, pulling it off to write on the glass for the baristas to know what to make and who it’s for.

“Bang Chan--” He starts, stopping himself and then pulling a hand out of his pocket to wave a dismissal at you, “--but Chan is fine,” He says as he watches you scribble across the glass.

So his name is Chan. You look across his features again, keeping the observations brief. Your eyes squint with your smile, Chan suited him so well, you thought, gently putting the parker lid back on before tapping away at the screen.

You read him his total aloud and he pays for his drink, he thanks you again before moving on to take a seat at the back of the cafe. You watch him take a seat and glance at you from time to time as you keep working.

The steam wand hisses to life as you expertly froth milk for a latte, your wrist tilting the pitcher with a finesse that comes from countless repetitions. The espresso machine purrs, a reliable companion in the creation of the morning elixir. As you pull shots of espresso, the deep, earthy fragrance fills the air, a testament to the craftsmanship embedded in each cup.

A regular approaches, and you already know their order – a double shot of espresso with just a hint of foam. You exchange a friendly nod, your hands working in a fluid motion to fulfill their daily ritual. The clatter of coins in the tip jar is a satisfying punctuation to the routine.

You glance at the clock, realizing your shift is winding down. With the lingering scent of coffee beans in the air, you start the familiar routine of cleaning up your station, wiping down the counters with practiced efficiency.

Changbin sidles up to you, a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. "Working hard or hardly working, huh?" He quips, a smile on his lips.

You play along, feigning a look of innocence. "Oh, you caught me. I was just practicing my world-famous coffee artistry in my daydreams."

He lets out a chuckle, leaning against the counter, "I hope those daydreams involve latte hearts and not forgetting to restock the sugar packets."

You give him an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand over your heart. "Restocking? You mean we can't just survive on the sheer charm of our baristas?"

Changbin grins, shaking his head. "As much as I'd love to believe that, I think our customers prefer their coffee with a side of sugar and not just sweetness from the staff."

You both share a laugh, the friendship you both built through countless cups of coffee evident. As you finish the last few tasks, Changbin glances at the clock. "Alright, time to clock out. Any big plans for the rest of your day?"

You give a playful shrug, "Maybe a daring rendezvous with my couch and a good book. The glamorous life, you know."

He nods in mock approval, "Sounds thrilling. Don't party too hard, now."

With a wink and a wave, you make your way to the time clock. As you punch out, the banter lingers behind as Changbin starts bickering with another coworker of yours. You let out a sigh of relief as you take your jacket off the hook and slip out from behind the counter, you glance to the back of the cafe once more, seeing Chan hadn’t moved from his seat.

You let out a huff of amusement through your nose as you watch him nod his head to the music in his headphones, mindlessly folding the receipt you’d given him into a tiny little triangle. His finger held it up by one point while the other point was against the table, his eyes fixated on the little paper football as he readied his other hand to flick it before choosing not to and letting it fall to the table with a limp.

Without really thinking you plop down into the seat across from him, making two ‘L’ shapes with your hands for a field goal. Chan’s eyes look up at you over his cup, furrowing his brows at you as he looks between your eyes and your hands. You nod your head to the paper football, letting a small smile creep across your face.

“Did you make the football just to make it, or did I sit down for nothing?” You say with a laugh as you lift your hands up and shake the field goal you made with your fingers.

As you take a seat, he motions to the small paper football on the table, "So, what's your experience level? Beginner, intermediate, or paper football prodigy?"

You chuckle, appreciating his easy going nature, "Let's go with intermediate. I've had my fair share of competitive matches in my day."

He raises an eyebrow, feigning skepticism, "Oh, we've got a pro here. Well, prepare to face the champion."

Chan holds the triangle up with his forefinger as he lines up his shot, slouching in his chair as he squeezes his left eye shut. He flicks it and it goes between your fingers, “told you,” He says as he sits back up with a smug look on his face while you reach down to your lap and pick up the football.

“Hey-- I never doubted you, I just said I’ve had my fair share of matches,” You let out a laugh as you ready for your turn to flick it across the table.

You send it flying, over-shooting the goal and Chan letting out a small chuckle as he picks up the paper, “So do I get to know my opponent’s name anytime soon?” He says as he flicks it towards you, his eyes flicking up at you from your hands as you pick up the little paper.

“Y/N,” You say as you sink down into your chair to line up your shot, your tongue sticking out as you focus and send it flying through his hands. You glance up at him as he picks up the paper, “So are you like-- a part of a famous paper football league that I’ve not heard of?”

Chan lets out a small laugh at your question, and you watch his eyes crinkle on the outside as his smile meets his eyes, “If there was a league, I’d be famous by now and you would have had to ask me for my name at the register,” he says with a playful head nod as he continues to flick the paper back and forth between the two of you, “But unfortunately there’s not, so I make music.”

"You make music?" you ask with a teasing glint in your eyes, "I thought you were auditioning for NSYNC with that outfit."

He looks down at himself, an amused expression playing on his face. "What's wrong with my outfit? I thought it was a fashion statement."

You lean in, pretending to inspect his ensemble with exaggerated seriousness, "Well, if the statement is 'I'm bringing back the '90s,' then mission accomplished,” you bring your hands up to make air quotes with your fingers when you say that.

Chan laughs, taking the ribbing in stride. "Hey, the '90s had some iconic fashion. I'm just paying homage."

You join in the laughter, your teasing tone softening into a genuine smile. "Fair enough. I suppose every musician needs their signature look. Just don't start wearing bucket hats and frosted tips, okay?"

He raises an eyebrow, pretending to consider the suggestion. "Bucket hats and frosted tips, you say? I'll keep that in mind for my next music video."

You let out a laugh and purposefully flick the paper towards Chan’s face, “Music is probably my favorite thing in the world,” snicker as Chan flinches at the impact, “I use it as a way to--”

“Escape?” Chan finishes your sentence for you, leaning on the table with his arms folded. You let out a huff of hair as you nod your head. It was nice to meet someone who finally had the same love for music that you did. Chan’s eyes seem to sparkle as he tells you about his work, his studio, and how music was always his first love.

Chan leans back, a contemplative expression on his face, "It's funny how a few chords and lyrics can transport you to another state of mind. Sometimes, it's the only place I want to be."

You giggle, feeling the resonance of his words. "True. I've had moments where a song becomes my soundtrack, turning mundane tasks into cinematic experiences. It's like my own personal movie scene."

He grins, "Exactly! It's like we have this secret realm that only opens up when the right notes play. A place where emotions are raw, and the world makes a different kind of sense."

The playful banter weaves through the conversation and as you sit across from Chan, the conversation flowing effortlessly, your attention is momentarily captivated by his smile. It's not just any smile; it's the kind that carries a warmth, a genuine invitation into the joy he finds in the moment. There’s literally nothing you’ve ever seen like his smile.

His grin, genuine and infectious, pulls at the edges of your own lips. You find yourself captivated by the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, as if every smile carries a collection of untold stories. In that moment, the cafe noise fades into a distant hum, the world seems to slow down, and your chest flutters each time you make him laugh.

There's something comforting about the way he smiles. It's not just a reaction; it's a genuine reflection of joy. It's as if, in those moments, the weight of the world lightens, and everything becomes a little brighter.

You catch yourself drifting into the details—the subtle play of light and shadow on his features, the sincerity behind his eyes, and the way his smile seems to reach beyond the surface. It's like a piece of his soul is shared through that smile.

"So," you tease, "are you telling me you've never escaped reality with an air guitar solo in front of the mirror?"

Chan laughs, caught off guard by your comment. "Maybe once or twice. But hey, everyone needs a rockstar moment in their life."

The conversation flows effortlessly with Chan, his words creating a rhythmic dance in the air. You're engaged, hanging onto his every word, but as he pauses, a subtle shift in his expression catches your attention. The realization dawns as he quirks an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as his gaze lingers, and the realization hits like an unexpected wave. Oh no, did he catch me staring? Panic flutters in your chest as you fumble for words, desperately trying to salvage the moment.

In the midst of a particularly engaging anecdote, Chan pauses, a playful glint in his eye. "Am I telling the story that well, or is there something else catching your eye?"

Your heart skips a beat, and a flush of embarrassment creeps up your cheeks. Caught off guard, you stammer out a response, "Oh, no, it's not that. I mean, yes, you're telling the story well. It's just... I wasn't staring, I swear."

He chuckles, a knowing smile on his lips. "No need to be embarrassed. I'm used to having an audience, but usually, it's for my music, not my storytelling."

You manage a sheepish grin, trying to play it off. "Well, consider it a compliment then. Your storytelling is so captivating; I couldn't help but get lost in it."

He raises an eyebrow, teasing. "Lost, huh? I must be doing something right, then."

As the conversation continues, you find yourself more conscious of where your gaze wanders. The playful embarrassment lingers, but Chan's easy going demeanor turns the moment into a shared laugh, a subtle connection that weaves its way into the ongoing banter. The embarrassment fades, replaced by a renewed focus on the stories being shared, and a newfound awareness of the charm that drew your attention in the first place.

“Y/N! Get out of here!” Chanbin yells with a short laugh as he taps his watch. You give him a thumbs up in acknowledgement as you turn to look at him, and you see a little flicker of concern in his eyes as he watches you and Chan.

The cafe's closing announcement echoes through the air, signaling the end of another day. You exchange a lingering smile with Chan as the realization settles that your time together is coming to a close.

"Well, looks like it's time to call it a day," you say, a tinge of reluctance in your voice.

Chan nods, the warmth of the moment still lingering in his eyes. "Yeah, it was great talking to you. Thanks for making the end of my day so enjoyable."

A genuine smile plays on your lips. "Likewise. And hey, I'm here again tomorrow. Same time. Same coffee-scented universe. You should swing by."

He grins, seemingly pleased by the invitation. "Sounds like a plan. I'll make sure to drop by and keep you company. Thanks for the offer."

As you both gather your belongings, the atmosphere is a blend of contentment and anticipation. The cafe, now dimming its lights, feels like a sanctuary of shared moments. "Until tomorrow then," you say, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

"Tomorrow it is," Chan replies, giving a small salute. "Looking forward to it."

The door chimes as you step into the night, leaving behind the familiar hum of the cafe. The promise of tomorrow hangs in the air, and as you part ways with Chan, there's a sense of anticipation, a shared acknowledgment that some connections are worth revisiting.

As you make your way to the train station, the echoes of your conversation with Chan reverberate in your mind. The city lights paint a vibrant backdrop against the darkening sky, but it's the glow of excitement within that captivates you.

Wow, that was unexpected, you think, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The coffee shop encounter, the easy banter, and Chan's infectious laughter had turned an ordinary evening into something extraordinary.

Did he really bring up air guitar solos and '90s fashion? A giggle escapes you at the memory as the wind whips through your jeans, the playful banter creating a warmth that feels like a secret treasure nestled within.

As you board the train, you find yourself replaying snippets of the conversation. His stories, his laughter—it's like there's this magnetic energy, you muse, feeling the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

When he caught you staring, there was a spark in his eyes, a playful recognition that left you blushing. The realization makes you smile even more, and you lean against the window, lost in thought. The anticipation of seeing him again adding an extra beat to your heart. There's something about him—something that made you excited again.

The train rumbles along the tracks, and you feel a mix of contentment and exhilaration. The cityscape passes by as you repeatedly flip the paper football in your hands, but it's the mental snapshots of the evening that dominate your thoughts—the shared laughter, the playful teasing, and the promise of another day filled with connection.

As you step off the train and navigate through the familiar streets toward home, you can't shake off the feeling of warmth that Chan left behind. The city may be bustling around you, but in this moment, it's the quiet thrill of unexpected connection that accompanies you on the journey home, turning a routine commute into a canvas painted with the hues of excitement and possibility.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Chan's footsteps echoed through the narrow corridor of his recording studio as he returned after a refreshing encounter with Y/N at the coffee shop. The rhythmic hum of the city seemed to follow him, blending with the distant sounds of music seeping from the studio rooms.

As he approached his designated space, the door creaked open to reveal the dimly lit room, adorned with soundproof panels and a myriad of instruments. The glow from the computer screen cast an ethereal hue across the room. In the corner, Jisung, his friend and fellow musician, hunched over a keyboard, engrossed in a melody that seemed to float in the air.

Chan couldn't help but grin, the residual warmth from his interaction with YN still lingering. "Hey, Jisung," he called out, his voice breaking the concentrated atmosphere.

Jisung turned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, well, look who's back from his coffee shop adventure. Find any inspiration in that cafe?"

Chan chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Not exactly, but I did have a pretty interesting conversation. You know, the usual stuff – air guitar solos, '90s fashion, and all."

Jisung raised an eyebrow, intrigued as he slips off his headphones and rolls his chair away from the computer. "Sounds like you had quite the day, who was she?"

As Chan settled into his chair, he began recounting the conversation, the banter, and the unexpected warmth he'd felt as he talked with Y/N. Jisung listened intently, the music fading into the background as the tale unfolded.

"You won't believe it, Jisung," Chan began, a lightness in his voice as he recalled the details. "She has this face, you know? Not just pretty, but there's something about her eyes – they light up when she talks about things she's passionate about."

Jisung leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sounds like you're smitten, my friend."

Chan chuckled, the truth behind the jest evident. "Maybe a little. But it's more than that. Her voice, man, it's like a melody. And her laugh? It's infectious. I couldn't help but get caught up thinking about how beautiful she’d sound if she’d sing."

Jisung, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you've just stepped out of a romance novel. Are you sure this isn't just a caffeine-induced illusion?"

Chan shook his head, his earnestness shining through, "I don't drink caffeine-- you know that,” Chan says as he slouches in the office chair, “I'm telling you, there's something special about her. We talked about music, life, everything. It's like we were in our own little world, just sharing stories. I felt... seen, you know? It's been a while since I felt that way."

Jisung's expression softened, realizing the sincerity in Chan's words. "So, what's the plan? Are you seeing her again?"

Chan nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, we're meeting up tomorrow. And honestly, I can't wait. It's like I stumbled upon something unexpected, but in the best possible way."

As the two friends continued to chat, the studio filled with the echoes of Chan's genuine excitement. In that moment, it became clear that Y/N had become more than just a chance encounter – she was a melody that had found its way into the soundtrack of Chan's life, bringing with her the promise of something beautiful and unforeseen.

"You know," Jisung mused, "sometimes the best inspirations come from the most unexpected places. Maybe that coffee shop is your new muse."

Chan nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe it is…” Chan trailed off, spinning his chair to face the recording studio as he sighed at the thought of seeing Y/N tomorrow. “But enough about me. What've you been working on?"

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The piercing sound of the alarm clock abruptly interrupts the peaceful silence of your room, signaling the start of another day. Groaning, you reluctantly open your eyes and glance at the clock – 4:30 AM. The world outside your window is still cloaked in darkness.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffle across the room to silence the persistent alarm. The cold floor beneath your feet serves as a rude awakening, but there's no time to linger. Yawning, you stumble your way to the bathroom, where the harsh fluorescent light reveals your reflection – messy hair and half-closed eyes.

The water in the shower provides a jolting wake-up call, and as the warm cascade invigorates your senses, you mentally prepare for the day ahead. With a sense of determination, you speed through your morning routine, dressing in the dim light of dawn.

The kitchen is a symphony of clinking dishes and the aroma of brewing coffee. You hastily prepare a simple breakfast, mindful of the ticking clock. Toast in hand, you grab your bag and keys, casting one last glance around your apartment before locking the door behind you.

You hold your keys in your mouth as you quickly slip on your winter coat, zipping it up to keep you warm from the city’s bone chilling wind. When you step outside, you stuff your hands in your pockets and feel an oddly shaped object. You pull it out to find a paper football tucked away in your coat… weird. You shake your head in dismissal as you start to jog to the train.

The city is still hushed as you make your way to the train station. The empty streets echo with the soft patter of your shoes against the pavement. The station is a ghostly quiet, and you board the train with a handful of early risers, all immersed in their own pre-dawn thoughts.

As the train starts its journey, you find a seat and settle in, a brief moment of respite before the bustling day unfolds. The rhythmic hum of the train lulls you into a contemplative state, but your peaceful interlude is short-lived. Glancing at your watch, a sense of panic washes over you – time is slipping away.

The train halts at your station, and you bolt out, maneuvering through the crowd with the grace of someone accustomed to the rush. The coffee shop awaits, its lights flickering in the distance. You quicken your pace, hoping to make it on time.

As you burst through the door, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans welcomes you. Your coworkers shoot you knowing glances – running on coffee shop time is practically a rite of passage.

The jingling of the doorbell announces your belated entrance to the bustling coffee shop. Changbin looks up from behind the counter with an amused smile playing on his lips. His eyes meet yours, and you can't help but feel a mixture of relief and playful embarrassment.

Changbin, leaning casually against the espresso machine, quips, "Late again, Y/N? You're pushing the boundaries of 'fashionably late' here."

You shoot him a sheepish grin, trying to catch your breath as you put your stuff down and quickly punch in. "Well, you know me, always making a grand entrance. Adds a bit of excitement to the place, doesn't it?"

Changbin chuckles, a warm and understanding tone in his voice. "Excitement, or chaos? Either way, you keep us on our toes. Now, apron up and let's get you into the rhythm of the morning grind."

As you hastily tie your apron, Changbin hands you a not-so-subtle wink. "Next time, aim for early. It's a wild concept, I know, but give it a try."

You playfully roll your eyes, retorting, "Where's the fun in that? Besides, the best stories always start with a dramatic entrance."

Changbin laughs, shaking his head, "You're something else, Y/N. Just make sure the drama doesn't involve spilled coffee or broken mugs, alright?"

With a mock salute, you assure him, "No promises, boss. But I'll do my best to keep it entertaining without any casualties."

The banter continues as you dive into the morning rush, the camaraderie with Changbin adding a touch of levity to the fast-paced coffee shop routine. Despite the teasing, there's an unspoken understanding that your energetic spirit is an integral part of the caffeinated symphony that defines the heartbeat of the place.

As you deftly navigate the morning rush at the coffee shop, a handsome stranger with a disarming smile strides toward the counter, confidently locking eyes with you. Your customer service instincts kick in as he approaches.

You smile politely as you hop in front of the register as he approaches, “Hey, welcome in!” You noticed how his smile reached his eyes and caused them to crinkle, and how his hair fell over his forehead and rested right above his eyebrows. He’s cute.

“Hey, Y/N,” He says with a grin as he playfully taps his fingers on the counter between the two of you.

You furrow your brow, racking your brain for any recollection of this charming stranger. Flashes of the previous day's faces and orders blur together, but his presence eludes you.

“Sorry… have we met?”

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Author's Note: I APOLOGIZE FOR HURTING Y'ALL BUT PLEASE STAY TUNED I'LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU!! T-T <3

#bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan angst fic #bang chan fluff fic #skz x reader

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lanawinterscigarettes · 2 months

Text

What Dies Doesn't Always Stay Buried (Missy/Gomez! Master x reader x Thirteenth Doctor)

Summary: you left your home to travel with the Doctor after the loss of Missy, but what happens when she comes back?

Warnings: implications of the reader going through the different stages of grief, references to overdrinking, mild swearing, starts sad but ends happy, the beginnings of a surprisingly healthy poly relationship between Missy, reader and the Doctor, suggestive comment made by Missy near the end

A/N: is this an incredibly niche pairing that I wrote for? yes. but I can't get the thoughts I have of Missy x 13 out of my mind, so I can't be bothered to apologize for it. I just sort of spilled out a bunch of nonsense onto my keyboard so the plot, storyline, ending, literally any of it might be garbage, but eh. most people probably aren't going to see this anyway, and if I cared that much I wouldn't be posting it in the first place

Everything felt dull and gray after you lost Missy. It was like nothing you did mattered anymore. You started acting reckless and stopped caring about the consequences of your actions. Not that you thought about them too much before, but at least then you had Missy to enjoy the chaos with. Not anymore.

You honestly didn't think there was anything or anyone that could ever make you feel happy again. Until the Doctor showed back up and did just that. Out of all the people you thought could possibly make you feel better, never in a million years would you have ever expected it to be them.

They found you wasted in some shady bar on a planet you'd crashed Missy's TARDIS on, drunkenly trying to pick a fight with an alien who was much bigger than you. After paying your tab and apologizing profusely to both the bartender and several of the patrons, they dragged you outside and propped you up against the wall of the bar's alleyway.

"What the hell were you thinking? What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?" Something about this random stranger seemed awfully familiar, but considering you were utterly wasted it was difficult for you to recognize them for who they were.

"Look here, blondie," you slurred in annoyance, shooting them an unimpressed glare. "Who are you-" you jabbed your finger at their chest to emphasize your point "-to tell me what to do?"

The stranger scoffed and rolled their eyes at your rude behavior. "I'm the Doctor, obviously." She looked down at her frame before adding in a mutter under her breath, "though I suppose I do appear a bit different than last time."

Your eyes widened almost comically at her words as you finally put two and two together. "Oh, hey, I know you-" You went to give her a friendly pat on the arm but instead toppled forward, landing against her.

She let out a soft "oof" as she caught you, sighing as she realized just how out of it you appeared to be. "Alright, that's it. I'm taking you with me."

"Wha- hey, no, you can't just take me in like I'm a stray dog," you protested as she took you by the arm and helped you to her TARDIS, doing just that.

You didn't remember much more from that night other than waking up with a killer hangover, but since then you'd been staying with the Doctor and accompanying her on her travels. She gave you the option to go back home, bringing it up several times in fact, but each time you refused.

Missy was gone, meaning you had no home to go back to. And while you never told her the real reason why you didn't want to leave, you were sure The Doctor knew.

At first you wanted nothing to do with her, refusing to leave your room. Eventually that grew boring, and you found yourself reluctantly making conversation with the Doctor whenever you bumped into her on your mindless walks through the seemingly never ending halls of the TARDIS.

It brought you peace, as they reminded you of the ones that Missy had in hers. You'd sit there on the floor, staring at the ceiling as you wallowed in your grief until either the Doctor found you or you fell asleep.

You wanted to stay soaking in your ceaseless pain forever, feeling guilty anytime you found it in you to smile or laugh. Especially whenever it was caused by the sonic screwdriver wielding blonde.

It felt like betrayal, to be able to find happiness and peace with your former love's best enemy. But after everything you'd been through, you couldn't help it.

You knew you'd cling to the next person you formed a connection with after Missy's death, regardless of who it was. And even though you tried to keep your distance, tried to brush off your feelings as the misplaced love you still had for Missy, it was more than that. Much more.

The feelings you grew for the Doctor weren't shallow or fake, they were very much real. After being alone and miserable for so long, you were able to get rid of your grief and let it all go, finally accepting that you were happy.

You and the Doctor were in love, and even though you still cared for Missy you were finally able to accept her being gone. Until all hell broke loose when the one thing you never expected would happen did- she came back.

The Doctor had taken you on one of her standard 'let's land on this random planet and see what comes of it' trips. The two of you were walking hand in hand through the ruins of some ancient civilization, stopping occasionally to study the crumbling architecture.

You listened as she happily rambled on about the city's people and what inevitably caused their downfall, smiling to yourself at her childlike nature. As you glanced around the room that she'd told you was once used as a temple of sorts, your eyes caught a small compact mirror that lay on the ground.

Letting go of her hand, you knelt down and carefully picked it up. It was much too modern looking and not nearly damaged enough to have come from this time period. "Hey, Doc, what's this?"

She stopped mid sentence and moved to crouch down next to you, carefully taking the compact mirror from you. "I'm not exactly sure." She admitted as she turned it over in her hands, studying it closely. "Obviously it's a mirror of sorts, but it doesn't appear to be from this time period, or, hell, even this planet."

Before you could respond, a silky voice cut through the room, one that didn't belong to either of you. "That would mine. I must've dropped it, silly me."

Both of your heads snapped up immediately, the Doctor's eyes narrowing in suspicion as yours widened in shock. You couldn't believe who it was. There was just no way. It was impossible. It couldn't be her.

"Who is it?" The Doctor asked cautiously as she stood, carefully pulling you off the ground with her. You wanted to say something to reassure her, but your words seemed to fail you. There was so much that you had to say, and yet when you went to speak, nothing came out.

An amused chuckle came from the same shadowy area that the voice had. "Oh, Doctor, surely you haven't forgotten me already." The person to which the voice belonged stepped forward, moving out of the shadows and in toward the light.

Your previous suspicions were confirmed almost instantly, your jaw dropping as you took in the sight of the woman before you. It was Missy, just like you'd thought.

Her hair was down and looked curly from being unbrushed, she was lacking any makeup, and her clothes looked like she stole them from the previous Master, but it was definitely her. If you hadn't known her so well, you might not've been able to recognize her at first, but you figured that was possibly done by her on purpose.

"Missy," you breathed her name out, your hand instinctively reaching out for her. She smiled at you softly, moving her own hand out to take yours as she took a few steps closer.

"Hello, dear." Her eyes traveled along the features of your face slowly, as if she was trying to take you in. "I take it you missed me."

She flickered her gaze from you over to where the Doctor stood. She hadn't spoken once since the dramatic reveal, uncharacteristic for her as she usually could never shut up. "What's the matter? Didn't expect to see me again so soon, now did you?" Missy asked proudly, seeming quite smug.

Instead of speaking, the Doctor just continued to stand there for a moment before lunging forward and pulling Missy in for a bone crushing hug. You're not entirely sure what was said, but it sounded a lot like the Doctor muttered "I missed you", followed by a soft apology.

Both you and Missy were speechless. Neither of you had been expecting this tender display of affection to come from her. Anger, maybe, sure. Sorrow, even, you might've thought. But not this.

You watched in awe as Missy hesitantly used her free hand to pat the Doctor's back, her proud demeanor softening as she melted into the hug. After a few moments, you felt her tug on your hand gently as a subtle invitation to join the two.

That was all it took. You moved over to them, wrapping your arms around the two loves of your life as you let out a quiet sigh of content. Part of you had been worried that the Doctor would try to keep you away from Missy as a means to protect you, so you were relieved to see that didn't seem to be the case.

"I love you." Your soft voice cut through the comfortable silence, causing the four heartbeats belonging to the two Time Ladies in front of you to quicken. "Both of you."

"Ah, well, I love you, too," the Doctor replied somewhat awkwardly, as you'd never said that to her before.

Missy let out an amused giggle before speaking, having already heard this sentiment coming from you before numerous times. "So do I. I couldn't stop loving you if I tried."

It didn't slip past you how she seemed to be addressing both you and the Doctor, and judging by how the blonde's cheeks flushed it apparently hadn't gone unnoticed by her either.

"That's- that's great, then." She stammered out nervously, avoiding looking Missy directly in the eyes. "Let's head back to the TARDIS, then, shall we? I'm sure Missy must want to change into something that's more her style."

"Yes, let's. And if you're lucky, I just might let you help me out of the clothes I'm wearing." Missy added in a low purr, something that made you grin in delight while the Doctor's face turned redder still. It was nice to know that even in this new dynamic involving the three of you, some things hadn't changed.

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macravishedbymactavish · 10 months

Note

Hesh and Logan Head-Canons?

This was too fun to write. And a tad self indulgent (with no shame)

Pros and Cons of Dating Hesh and Logan Walker

Hesh

Pros

He is incredibly sentimental

"What's this?" You smiled one afternoon, noticing a small Polaroid and note on his nightstand. Upon closer inspection you saw yourself staring back, a picture he had taken one afternoon years ago when you two had first started dating.

Humming in response, he glanced away from the game he was playing to look. A smile breaking out on his face.

"That is the first picture I have of you since we started dating. Underneath is the first letter I wrote you, but never sent"

His ears turned varying shades of red when you asked to read it, curious as to what his lovestruck brain came up with.

That night ended with you using his lap as a pillow while he continued gaming. Giving you the occasional kiss or running a hand over your hair between matches; while you read the words written in his boyish writing over and over.

Acts of service KING; and incredibly thoughtful about it too

You're cold and having a hot shower to warm up? He's grabbing your pjs and towel to throw them in the dryer to keep you nice and toasty after you get out.

He's also sitting in the bathroom with a bag of chips and a pop hoping to catch a glimpse of your soapy body if you'd be so kind.

Feeling sick? Mama Hesh at your service. Making sure you have tissues, a garbage can, home-cooked meals and the proper medication.

Feeling overwhelmed by responsibilities? How can he help, what can he do? At the very least he's right there beside you, offering ways to break down the big overwhelming tasks into smaller, more manageable ones.

His brain holds an endless supply of fun facts, most of which you'll likely never use

Most of these relate to the world wars, or cars he grew up around. But every so often he'll throw out a random:

"The end of a shoelace is called an aglet" just to keep you on your toes

Cons

Dead silent when half asleep. Combine this with his inability to sleep well without you? Good luck.

You were standing in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed. The house was shut down for the night, lights (outside of the bathroom) off, doors locked, all that was left was your nightly routine then cuddling with your boyfriend.

Who had fallen asleep hours before you, exhausted from work this morning.

Which would explain why you jumped and almost choked on the toothpaste in your mouth when you heard him softly speak from the doorway.

Incoherent mumbles about missing you, not getting the same sleep when you're not there to cuddle, and when are you coming to bed?

Spitting the foam out of your mouth, you responded with a "I need to tie a bell around your neck or something. Let me finish up here and we'll go to bed"

Spontaneous in a not great way.

It's not unheard of for your text chains to look like:

I was thinking, we could get a house goat. Theyr great little weed machines, cute, maybe cuddly if we train them right

David, you live 5 minutes from the pier. You barely have a lawn, and the goat would eat the underwear you leave on the bathroom floor.

You didn't have to use my full name, ouchhhhh.

Logan and I are going on a snack run, well pick you up in 10.

Wait wait wait, who said I'm awake for starters. It's literally 3:47 in the morning

Omw.

What would you do if I wore ONLY an apron and was standing at the oven cooking when you got home :D <3?

Assuming you didn't burn your dick off, I'd turn around and walk out.

For some reason, he's a cougar magnet (and has grown to hate it)

Let's use the first time it happened as an example...

"I can't wait" you smiled over at your boyfriend, the two of you sitting in an arena waiting for the main act to come on.

As he was about to respond, a voice from his right spoke up. Asking if he's seen this band before, and if he would be dancing when they come on. The woman, possibly tipsy but clearly closer to Keegan or Ajax's age smiled over at your boyfriend. Finding quite a bit of interest in his answers.

Hesh being, well Hesh fell into easy conversation. Politely entertaining her questions as you let yourself fade into the background. That was until you heard:

"You're such a baby! That explains the babyface" eyebrows raising as she laughed a bit too hard at this. Glancing over, you smiled and discreetly placed your hand on his.

Eyes bouncing between the two of you, her jaw fell slack as she realized. With a quick apology she ended the conversation and left you two alone for the night.

Hesh later asked if you got the same strange vibes from the nice lady. You had to take a minute before answering, as you were laughing so hard.

Logan

Pros

Very creative and open to date ideas. Anything is an adventure when you're together.

Dates including, but not limited to:

1). A rage room

"You taught that toaster who's boss. Is it just me or do you feel lighter now? Like things are balanced in the world.

2). A themed movie night (right down to the snacks)

It was his idea, but you insisted that you both make the snacks. Cue icing being smeared on each other's faces and other chaos throughout the kitchen. Hearts full and bellies sore from laughter.

3). A target/shop date night challenge

"And a fun snack!" You pulled out a the bags of bizzarw candy you bought for your boyfriend. Surprised when he merely held up one finger and turned on the TV.

"The name of the skin is Snack, and I know you play as this character"

4). Nerf gun battles around your house

You two may or may not have played strip nerf battle once or twice.

A sponge for information (especially about people) - which proves to be very helpful for birthdays and holidays

Holiday shopping is incredibly easy, the two of you walk hand in hand while Logan has the list he's compiled on his phone.

Hesh has been talking about maybe getting Riley a proper grooming one day -- but can't justify the price when he easily does it at home. He mentioned this back in April, but Logan made a note and bought him a gift certificate for a free dog grooming this December.

Keegan mentioned that he really should update his headphones (partially due to Kick testing the limits of what noise canceling truly is). Logan kept this information until his birthday when he bought him a new pair.

Anything you'd mention liking, or thinking of he takes extra special note of. Any occasion, if he can either buy or bring you to something that makes you smile he feels like he's in his own personal paradise.

An incredible eye for decorating

For a younger guy living on his own, it was fairly unexpected. Appreciated, but unexpected.

He keeps his space tidy, organized and all around aesthetically pleasing. It's especially surprising since he doesn't care too much about a theme. Every part of his personality (and yours) he finds a way to blend into the masterpiece you call home.

He can totally look at a inspiration photo and change the theme and aesthetic to your home up with ease though.

Cons

Will get too focused on his task at hand sometimes (gaming especially) and forget to message back. He feels pretty bad about it though and does everything he can to make it up to you

Eyes scanning the screen, smirk widening as the message of victory flashed across the screen. Another mission complete.

Reaching forward to grab a sip of the drink he had open, he froze for a brief second.

It's been three hours.

Grimacing, he flipped his phone to see your messages, unknowingly left unanswered. Some asking if he wanted to join you for dinner tonight. Dinner that was an hour and a half ago.

Game now forgotten, he dialed your number and laughed awkwardly when you responded. Knowing exactly what happened, again.

"I'll make it up to you, I'll make you dinner tomorrow night. Something nice"

If you're spending any time at his house, you need to go grocery shopping first. His fridge is 95% empty (minus energy drinks and pop), and his freezer is half pizza rolls.

Eyebrow raising as you noticed the barren state of his fridge, closing the door slowly you called out to him.

"Do you just not eat?" You laughed, gesturing toward the wasteland he was calling a fridge. Watching as he raised an amused eyebrow.

"Of course I eat" freezer door now open, the boxes of pizza rolls and pre-made meals staring back at you. A sigh escaping your lips as you reached over to close the freezer door, then grab the keys to his front door. "What's going on?"

"We need to go grocery shopping, Lo. For real food"

So laid back and open about things he sometimes lacks an opinion (totally not calling myself out with this as well). While he truly doesn't mind any option, he also isn't keen on choosing

"Where do you want to eat?" You asked, fingers laced with your boyfriends as the two of you walked down the street.

"I'm open to just about anything" he shrugged, "whatever you want"

Stopping dead in the road you looked over at him, repeating your question once more. Only to sigh when you received the same answer.

"I really don't mind where we eat, I'll find something I like on any menu" he lightly chuckled.

Eyebrows raised, you continued slowly blinking at him until he offered your favourite restaurant with a shrug.

"Good, thank you for choosing"

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

#call of duty ghosts #logan walker #david hesh walker #logan walker headcanons #david hesh walker headcanons #cod ghosts #cod ghosts headcanons #call of duty ghosts headcanons

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ladylannisterxo · 2 years

Text

Lucky Me, Lucky You

Pairings; Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Words; 3.2k

Warnings; suggestive dialogue, cheesy dialogue, copious amounts of flirting and fluff, oh and yeah, dad!billy (literally)

Summary; It's that time of year again and the Hargrove Family is going trick-or-treating!

A/N; So, yeah, this is a Halloween fic that I wrote back in 2019 for a writing challenge - this is also the last fic I'll be cross-posting after deleting it, like, twice.

{ masterlist }

You could hear her but you couldn’t see her, at least not yet. She’s stealthy, or as stealthy as any four year old could be. Her feet pitter patter against the hardwood floor and you bite back the smile that’s slowly forming on your lips; you don’t want to let the little one know you’re on to her just yet. From your vantage point, you can clearly see the bathroom door in the mirror and her shadow is growing along the wall. Her little head peeks around the door and you’re ready to burst with how incredibly adorable she looks in her costume. Her hands fly up to her mouth to stifle the giggles flowing from her lips and you can no longer fight your own smile.

“I can see you, Anna Banana,” you whisper, eyes locking with hers.

She giggles uproariously and runs into the room. “Look, mommy, I’m a kitty!”

Billy had been the one to suggest that she go as a cat for Halloween. You tossed the idea around in your head for a few days, but it was when you found her attempting to coax a small gray kitten out from underneath a car one afternoon that you realized his idea wasn’t so bad. Anna adored animals and she’s working on befriending all of the neighborhood pets. She has taken to joining you on your evening walks in hopes of running into neighbors out walking their dogs and whenever Billy has an errand to run, as long as it isn’t too late, she is right there with him. Secretly, she hopes she can find a stray kitten and convince Billy to let her bring the bundle of fur home. It hasn’t happened yet, but she still has hope.

“You look absolutely purrfect, baby!” You exclaim, kneeling down to her level.

Anna insisted she be a black cat and therefore, her entire ensemble is black; from her long sleeved shirt to her opaque tights to her tennis shoes. Even the sparkly tulle tutu you stumbled upon while out shopping a few weeks back is black. Billy thought it was a bit too much for the costume but when Anna squealed in delight upon seeing it, he relented fairly quickly.

“Where are your ears?” You inquire, brushing strands of hair back out of her eyes.

“One of them fell off,” she says with a frown, “daddy’s fixing it.”

“Oh, well let’s go sneak up on him then,” you whisper, “and we’ll also say ‘thank you’ for the excellent job he did on your makeup. What do you think?”

Her frown turns upside down as she nods happily and darts from the room, already in search of Billy. You laugh softly and turn back toward the mirror. Anna isn’t the only one dressing up this year; it is tradition, after all. You had been dressing up for Halloween ever since you and Billy started taking her out trick-or-treating and until your mere presence starts to embarrass her, you’re determined to keep doing it. Turning your head from left to right, you deem yourself worthy to grace the streets of Hawkins and step out of the bathroom and toward the sound of muffled chatter in the kitchen.

When you turn the corner, Billy is readjusting the ears on Anna’s head. His brows are furrowed and his tongue is poking out from between his teeth; it’s a look of deep concentration if you’ve ever seen one. You smile softly at his demeanor as you lean against the doorway.

“I never get tired of watching you be so domestic, babe.”

“Don’t distract me,” he says slowly, shifting his eyes over to you briefly, “and just what exactly are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a mummy,” you state simply. “Get it? Because I’m her mummy.”

Unlike Anna, your costume is all white. What made yours; however, were ripped up strips of linen wrapped haphazardly around you. You inclined gravity to intervene throughout the ordeal and random pieces now drape loosely across your torso and off your arms. You teased your hair wildly, a daunting task you haven’t done since high school, and if Billy didn’t know any better, it looked as if you had just stumbled out of bed… or stuck your finger in an electrical socket.

“Wow,” he laughs, “how long did it take you to come up with that pun?”

“That’s not important,” you say with a wave of your hand. “Anna, did you say ‘thank you’?”

“‘Thank you’? For what?”

“For doing her makeup, silly! Her whiskers look really good.”

An easy smile forms on his lips and he averts his eyes back to Anna. You’re pleasantly surprised when a soft blush rises in his cheeks and the sight makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. It’s the little things in life and Billy Hargrove still has the capability to make you feel like a sixteen year old girl going out on her first date.

“Thank you, daddy!”

“Of course, princess.” He places a kiss to the top of her head. “Anything for my girl.”

He pushes himself up off the ground and waltzes over to you, one arm sliding around your waist as he sidles up behind you. He pushes a few strands of voluminous hair out of the way and kisses your shoulder softly.

“My other girl looks very pretty too,” he whispers against your skin.

“Mmm,” you hum, turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck. “That’s sweet but don’t think that your sweet talk is going to get you out of this.”

“Get me out of what?”

“Out of the fact that Anna Banana and I are dressed up and ready to go and you are not,” you say, smirk pulling at your lips. “Where is your costume, Billy?”

He sighs dramatically, taking a step back. “My ensemble doesn’t please the lady?”

“Jeans and a button up does not please the lady, no,” you scoff, “even if you did manage to button it up all the way this time.”

“Considering how I used to wear them, I’d call this dressing up.”

“Ha ha, so funny,” you quip with and eye roll. “You are no fun.”

“I hate costumes. There is no way in hell-”

Anna gasps audibly from her spot on the floor. Throwing her hands over her ears, she stares back at you and Billy with wide eyes.

“Bad word choice, daddy,” you whisper with a grin.

“Heck,” he corrects, “there is no way in heck I am dressing up.”

Anna smiles, clapping her hands. “Good job, daddy!”

You shake your head with a laugh and hold your hand out for her which she eagerly latches onto. “Fine, don’t join in on the fun. I can’t make you.”

He arches an eyebrow and you spot that all too familiar glint in his eye; the one that says if you had some extra time, you could most certainly try. You match his stare with a warning glare of your own.

“Look, dressing up with Anna is your fun,” he placates softly, “mine is watching my two favorite girls do that. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Have I finally pleased the lady?”

“Yes, you have pleased the lady,” you concede, “but you’re driving tonight.”

“I always drive, gorgeous, you know that.”

You gape at his double entendre but he only shoots you a grin and a wink in return. Scooping up Anna into his arms, he twines his fingers loosely with yours and pulls you out the door.

==========

“You know, for as small as this town is, there are a lot of fucking people.”

“Billy,” you hiss, nudging his shoulder softly with your own.

“What? It’s not like Anna can hear me, she’s up at the next house.”

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you in closer, pointing Anna out to you. You follow his finger and sure enough, Anna is smiling widely as her orange plastic pumpkin is filled with even more candy.

“Yeah, okay, but there are other kids here so…”

He scoffs lightly. “They aren’t my kid.”

“You are so kind,” you jest, “catch me, I’m swooning!”

“It’s why you love me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You shift your gaze to him and he’s closer than anticipated, his lips mere centimeters away. His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and back up and you find yourself doing the same. He leans in closer, lips ghosting against your own…

“I guess,” you mumble.

His eyes flick open and he blinks in disbelief. You press your lips together, willing yourself not to laugh but the look on his face is just too good and suddenly, you’re laughing freely. The sound is light and melodic and under different circumstances, Billy would be laughing along with you. Instead, he pinches your side and you jolt back in surprise, shoving at his chest.

“You ass!”

“Ma’am, there are other kids here,” he mimics, “could you not use that kind of language?”

“They aren’t my kid,” you shoot back and then you’re both doubling over in laughter.

Billy reaches out his hand to you and you twine your fingers with his as he pulls you back to his side. His lips, once again, meet you halfway and you relent, allowing yourself to fall deeply into his arms as your lips meet his. He tastes of spearmint gum and cigarettes; a taste you have grown fond of over the years. When he pulls back, he places another kiss to your forehead. A blissful smile overtakes your features and you tuck yourself tighter into his side, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Who is that?”

His voice cuts through your reverie and you lift your head, following his line of sight. Ahead of you, Anna is standing with a boy you’re not too familiar with and she’s showing off the sparkly designs on her tutu. To Billy’s apparent displeasure, the boy is completely fixated on what Anna is saying and his eyes follow all of her movements while a small smile adorns his face.

“I don’t know,” you say, “Brandon? Brendan? Something like that.”

“Alright, well, whatever his name is, he’s got to go.”

“He’s four, Billy. What are you worried about?” You ask with a grin. “Do you think he’s gonna grow up and be the same type of sixteen year old that you were?”

“That is exactly what I’m worried about,” he confirms with a vigorous nod, “and if you really thought about it, it would worry you too.”

You shrug. “I hear he’s a nice kid. ‘A pleasure to have in class’ apparently.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because his mother told me at the Halloween party their class had the other day,” you say, “you remember Maureen, don’t you?”

“Oh God, she’s such a talker,” he mumbles, “did she also mention that her and her husband were getting a divorce?”

“No, she did not mention that at a children’s Halloween party,” you quip, “but she obviously told you.”

He pulls a cigarette from his breast pocket and lights it, the smoke billowing in the October breeze. “I ran into her at the grocery store last week. Remember when you had me go pick up milk?”

“Oh, yeah. Was she okay?”

“I think so.” He shrugs. “With her dolled up face and plunging neckline, I’d say she was properly devastated.”

Your mouth pinches down in a frown and you gaze back over to Anna and the mysterious boy whose name you honestly cannot remember. They’ve both been joined by the very same woman you and Billy are currently engrossed in discussing and you tear your eyes away when they meet hers in a brief glance.

“She also told me that you were a very lucky woman to have a husband like me to come home to every night,” he adds slowly, as if trying to remember the finer details of the statement.

You scoff. “She did not say that.”

“I know, hard to believe but she did.” He takes another drag of his cigarette. “And, you know me, I get off on a compliment so I obviously took her right there in the middle of the store.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you laugh, nudging your elbow into his side.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he laments, “she did say that but my response was a bit different.”

“What did you say?” You inquire, nuzzling your head back against his chest.

“That I was the lucky one in the situation,” he answers softly, “I have an incredible family that I never dreamed I would have and that my beautiful wife is at home waiting for me and I must get back to her.”

“Lucky me, lucky you,” you say with a smile, “and as sweet as that sentiment is, when did you start going soft?”

“Excuse me,” he scoffs, “I am still a badass and I- hey, princess!”

Anna has trudged up to you slowly, hands rubbing against her tired eyes. Her plastic pumpkin is filled to the brim with candy and she hands it off to you, knowing that you will be sorting through it all later. She walks over to Billy and wraps her arms around his leg.

“I’m sleepy, daddy.”

“It is getting late,” you murmur, “we should probably be heading back.”

“You ready to go home, princess?” He asks, scooping her up in his arms.

She nods softly, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes are fluttering from exhaustion but a wistful smile plays on her lips.

“Who was your friend, baby?” You ask gently, retying one of her shoelaces.

“Henry,” she says through a yawn. “He’s nice.”

Billy snorts a laugh. “How did you get Brandon out of Henry?”

“He’s not my kid,” you mock.

Billy lays Anna down in the backseat of the car and wraps her up in the fleece blanket he keeps in the trunk. Just in case, you had said as you thrust the blanket in among his other things. She curls the blanket tighter around her small body and Billy places a gentle kiss on her forehead before lightly closing the door. Climbing into the car, you’re already waiting in the passenger seat and you twine your fingers with his as soon as he’s settled.

“Brandon’s another kid from class,” Anna interjects tiredly, “he’s nice too.”

You shift your gaze from your daughter to Billy who is staring back at you with wide eyes. His fingers have tightened around yours and you press your lips into a thin line, hoping to suppress the bubble of laughter forming in your throat.

Billy turns his eyes to the road and throws the car into drive. “Well, that’s it, she’s never leaving the house again.”

==========

The plastic pumpkin has been gutted and all of its sugary goodness is splayed out across your coffee table. You have two separate piles: the good pile and the sketchy pile. You’re on the floor, sifting through the candy with intensity as Anna sits beside you, head in her hands and sleep long forgotten. Billy is lounging on the couch, tv turned on and feet propped up on the very same table. You consistently have to keep nudging his feet out of your way.

“Can I have a piece?” Anna whispers.

“One piece from the good pile,” you concede, “and then you need to go get ready for your bath.”

Anna nods happily as she swipes a small Kit Kat bar from the pile. She holds it up to you in question and you nod in approval. She jumps up and places a wet kiss to your cheek before darting off down the hallway to get ready for her bath.

“Where’s my kiss?” Billy asks.

“You didn’t give her candy before bed,” you say, “mommy continues to reign supreme in this household.”

“So, that’s what it’s come down to?”

“Indeed it has,” you sass, nudging his feet out of your light. “Now go give your daughter a bath.”

“Fine but keep that costume on,” he says softly, “I want to unwrap you later.”

You snort a laugh. “Like a Christmas present?”

You drop another piece of candy into the good pile and turn your attention to your husband. He’s eyeing you, that familiar glint from earlier is back in his eye and you shift under his heated stare.

“It’s still Halloween,” you remind him.

“Halloween is over. It’s practically Christmas.”

“Are you forgetting Thanksgiving?”

He waves your statement off. “Thanksgiving is where I will eat and say how thankful I am for my amazing wife and incredible daughter. Boom, Christmas.”

“I couldn’t possibly get you to dress up for it, could I?” You ask with a laugh. “Santa, perhaps?”

“I don’t think I have the body for Santa,” he says, patting his toned stomach lightly.

“We could get some padding,” you offer, tossing a piece of candy into the sketchy pile. “We have plenty of pillows in this house.”

Billy slides down onto the floor and crawls up behind you. Your heart flutters and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his chest press up against your back. His hands come up on either side of you, boxing you in.

“If I do that,” he whispers against your skin, “would you sit on my lap and tell me what a good girl you’ve been?”

“Oh my god,” you breathe, “thank you so much for ruining that childhood symbol for me.”

He chuckles softly, placing a delicate kiss to your neck. You breathe in deeply and turn your head towards him. He stares back at you, lips ghosting against your own.

“Daddy,” Anna calls out, effectively shattering the moment, “I need help!”

You giggle softly but place a chaste kiss to his lips for good measure. “Go help Anna.”

“Fine,” he says, snatching up a pack of Reese’s Pieces, “but I’m serious about the costume.”

Heat blooms in your stomach and you suddenly feel a lot warmer on this cool October night. He sends you a cheeky smirk and dips down the hallway, toward Anna.

“Anna Banana,” he calls, mouth already full of candy. “You left your candy unattended and therefore it is now mine!”

“Daddy, no!”

You chuckle softly as you loosen a few knots in your costume. No harm in helping him out. The sounds of splashing water and laughter emit from the bathroom and dance down the hall. You sigh contently as you pick up a small pink Starburst from the pile and pop it into your mouth. Foregoing your task, you turn off the tv and tiptoe quietly down the hallway and into your bedroom; you shut the door gently and flop down onto the bed. The orange lights that Billy hung from the roof bathe the room in a vibrant glow and you wait patiently for Billy to come find you.

In a matter of minutes, the bathroom door opens and Billy and Anna pad down the hallway to her room. You can hear the telltale signs of him tucking her into bed and then his dulcet voice carries itself to your ears as he reads Anna her favorite bedtime story. His voice soothes your tired body and before long, your eyes are fluttering shut.

Billy smiles softly when he discovers you twenty minutes later. Choosing not to wake you, he climbs into bed beside you and wraps you up in his arms as he kisses your shoulder. He can always unwrap you from your costume tomorrow morning.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x fem!reader #stranger things #writing by 's'

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