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spacecowboyhotch · 2 years

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Begin Again - IBM Submission

summary: hotch is a support for reader after she loses the only love she’s ever known

pairing: fem!reader x aaron hotchner

warnings: none

an: based on this ibm submission from @mayasreadingnook in honor of the release of red (taylor’s version)

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | ibm masterlist

The entire team knew about the break up with your ex, Oliver. It was impossible for them not to know. You’d been away on a case and Oliver had been ignoring you all day when he called right before bed. He’d called you, said a bunch of backhanded compliments as he told you that he was leaving you. The set of emotions that ran through you was confusing; heartbreak, relief, fear. While Oliver had been all you’d ever known, you knew that there was better out there.

Adjusting to life without him over the last 8 months was hard. It was constantly drowning in your feelings, trying to figure out how to stay afloat in this new normal. Life was a montage of burning with rage, breaking down, or feeling as if the world was ending. It's days of telling yourself that you’re better off without him. Days of eating dinner alone and relearning who you are without him.

You’ve been thinking you’d been holding it together. And to be fair, for the most part, you are managing. You’re allowing yourself to do things you didn’t do when you were with Oliver; going out to eat, wearing things you want, listening to songs you stopped because he would ridicule them. But you’re left with retreating farther into your shell than before. It feels a little funny, to struggle even more with confidence though you’re free of the person who destroyed it. Everyone notices, all of them give you your time, but Hotch can’t take it anymore.

It’s been a slow Wednesday, and you’ve just dropped off some paperwork to Hotch and turn on your heel to leave when he calls your name softly. It’s a shock, makes you turn around immediately because it’s a sound you’ve never heard before.

You compose yourself, piercing your expression into a polite smile. “Yes, sir?”

He stands, walking around the desk and stopping right in front of you, just a foot away. You look up at him, feeling intimidated and a little stunned by how attractive he is. It’s not that you hadn’t noticed before but you didn’t really think about it. Before he was your boss and you had Oliver. Things are different now.

“I don’t want you to be concerned or uncomfortable because of this, but I would like to get coffee this weekend.”

“W-with me, sir?” You point to yourself in confusion.

“Yes.”

“And I shouldn’t be concerned, sir?”

He places a hand on your shoulder. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

____

For some reason you don’t think that he’s going to show up. You sit in your car, picking at your nails before you finally roll your eyes at yourself and make your way into the cafe. Hotch is already standing in line, glancing nervously at his watch. He rubs his fingers together and glances at the door, his eyes meeting yours. The next moment is a rare one; a wide smile spreads across his face as he waves you over.

“Hi, you made it.”

“Yeah, sorry I’m late I just,” You start to reference your ex but think better of it, shaking your head. “Nothing. Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s alright. Caramel latte?”

You tilt your head, amazed that he knows your coffee order. “Um, yeah.”

“I’ll order, how about you find us a table?” He suggests and you nod in agreement before turning to find a table.

The first time Hotch laughs at one of your remarks you look at him like he’s grown two heads, almost choking on your latte.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You look away, shaking your head at the question. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, not with the look that crossed your face. And before you say something, noticing a facial expression is not profiling.”

You huff in defeat, looking down at your hands. “He never…laughed at anything I said. He didn’t think that I was funny.”

___

The office is decorated for the holidays, and you’re filled with dread. It was the first time in a while that you would spend the holiday by yourself. Rossi and Morgan brought up their plans earlier and Hotch watched your face fall as you looked back down at your reports. He realized that this is the first Christmas you’ll spend alone. It isn’t one of your coffee days but he walks you to your car, making small talk as you lean against it. He can still see that you aren’t feeling your best, you’re breaking eye contact more than usual, your smile smaller and softer.

You open your mouth to start venting your frustrations about the upcoming winter months and holiday cheer. But he reads your needs, and he beats you to it, starts speaking first.

“You know around Christmas, there’s a tradition we do. Well, I don’t get the chance to do it every year, but when I can I’m there with Jess and Jack.” He starts

You perk up, happy to hear that at least one of you will get to do something fun. “What is it?”

“We watch all of the old claymations together with warm cookies and milk or hot cocoa.”

“That sounds really nice. I’m sure Jack really enjoys the sugar rush.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. “He definitely does. But, barring that the team is home, I think we should all do it together.”

“Yeah?”

The way your eyes shine makes his fingers and toes tingle, something he wills himself to ignore as he nods. “Yeah.”

_____

You’ve convinced Hotch to try a new coffee shop today, and you make sure you get there early since you’re familiar with the place. There’s a bit of a line so you get in it. Your anxiety flares, and for a short set of moments you continuously look at your watch and glance back at the door. A part of you expects him to be late, and an even smaller irrational part of you thinks he won’t show at all. You feel silly and guilty for thinking that of him, he’s done nothing but be dependable. He’s Hotch for starters, a man so punctual that he gets there early enough for everyone involved. He’s also not your ex; he’s nothing like Oliver, the farthest from it. And most importantly, he’s your boss and not a man that you’re dating. The more time you spent time with him the more you had to remind yourself of that. He’s Hotch. Nothing more, nothing less.

You glance back at the door one more time and your eyes catch his. Relief spreads through you as you wave him down. “Hotch.”

He makes his way to you, smoothing a hand down your arm in a way that makes you shiver. “How many times have I told you to call me, Aaron.”

“I don’t know, enough times to where I wish I was getting paid for it.”

“Well I do buy your coffee.” The two of you take a step forward as the line moves.

“And I always object.” You retort, looking up at him in feigned disbelief.

He shrugs, “It’s the least I can do as your uptight boss.”

“I don’t think you’re uptight.”

“Really?”

“Really, Aaron, I don’t.”

He swallows loudly, a slight blush staining his cheeks. “Thanks.”

_____

The team is home in the middle of the week, something that surprises both of you. Hotch has already made his usual Wednesday arrangements for Jack so the two of you go to coffee.

You’ve been thinking about these get togethers a lot and have been realistic about what’s happened over time. You have real feelings for him and you’re not sure what to do about them. You want this friendship with him more than anything, even if it means sacrificing the chance to ever be more to him. But, you feel like you owe it to him to be honest about these feelings.

Here goes nothing, you think to yourself.

“Hotch,” You begin, but he raises an eyebrow, twists his face in disapproval, and you correct yourself. “Aaron, I’ve really appreciated everything that you’ve done for me in the last few months. Being able to come here for coffee and just talk about anything has been really nice.”

He looks at you with this soft look you’ve never seen before, it makes your face heat up. “It’s been my pleasure. I think I’ve benefited from it just as much as you have.”

“I think you have too, you’ve opened up a little more. You’re letting people in, not just me.”

“It’s easier when you feel genuinely cared for.” Your heart thrums loudly in your chest at his sweet words.

“It is. And you’ve been nothing but a great listener, and you validated me and my feelings in ways I can’t even explain, just with your willingness to be here.”

He runs a hand over his face, his eyes dropping down to the empty mug in front of him. “You’re overselling me.” He says shyly.

“I’m not. If anything I’m underselling.”

He leans back, eyebrows raising in confusion as he tongue sweeps across his bottom lip.

“I don’t really know how to say this and I don’t know if I should say this but over the last few months things have,” You pause, pulling in a breath as you think of the most professional way to tell your boss you’re falling for him. “Changed. Things have changed for me, in the way that I feel about you.”

“Oh.”

“And it’s alright that things haven’t for you, I just think that maybe since they have for me that we should pause on our meetings. Just so that I can right myself and focus that energy somewhere that’s more appropriate.”

“I think that would be a great way to go about it,”

You visibly deflate, nodding your head as you look down into your latte. “If things hadn’t changed for me too.”

“What?”

He laughs, your name leaving his lips with it as he reaches across the table to grab your hand. “I have feelings for you too.”

You look down at your hand in his, then back up at him before pulling your hand away, pressing it against your chest in disbelief. “What? No.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

He recaptures your hand, squeezes it reassuringly, nodding a few times. “Yes.”

“Aaron,”

“Don’t try to talk us out of this. I have feelings for you and you have feelings for me. We’ve been patient with each other. I want this. Do you?”

“I do, I really do Aaron, but I’m afraid to begin again.”

“I am too. But let’s do this.”

The two of you have slowly leaned towards each other during this exchange, and its second nature to close the little bit of space left between you to press your lips to his. He is eager, gentle, and warm against you. His hand comes to cup your jaw, pulling you closer so that your shoulder rests against his.

When he pulls away, he rubs his nose against yours, a soft smile spread across his face. “You okay?”

“More than okay.” You nod, your own smile wide.

What a wonderful Wednesday.

tagged: @ssahotchsbitch, @ssahotchie, @azenpal, @disgruntledchowchow, @chelseyjoyce, @hotchwhore15, @hotforhotchner11, @ssamorganhotchner, @choppa-style, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @averyhotchner, @zetasaturno99, @art-and-thoughts, @spngirl05, @g-l-pierce, @qtip-blog, @scuttling, @akira-155, @j-cat, @hotchner-bau, @laurensprentiss, @ssa-ki99, @ssa-montgomery, @thinking-bucky, @silvermercy, @lilacprentiss, @alexxblake, @fightingdragonswithreid, @vintagesubmariner, @ashhotchner, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack, @ssahotchnerxx, @sunshinexweasley, @dindjarinneedsahug

#femreader x aaron hotchner #hotch x fem!reader #fem!reader x aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch x female reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #reader x aaron hotchner #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fan fiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fic #Spotify

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year2000electronics · 3 years

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Siblings, Origami, and Slightly Wasted Potential

Hi. Me again. I have some thoughts on Origami King and the ideal future we could have had.

(Spoilers for Origami King!)

(image recreation)

Last time on the analysis show, I took a look at the characterization of Paper Luigi (which is a pretty good read, I’ve been told). This time, I’d like to build on that a little more by addressing Paper Mario’s other pair of iconic siblings- Olly and Olivia.

Specifically, the way I believe they have the ability to parallel Paper Mario and Paper Luigi.

So, to lay out some basic facts (as is usually necessary to make a strong foundation), I’d like to talk a bit about Mario and Luigi’s relationship with one another.

Thanks to Luigi gaining importance in the Mario series as a whole, he’s been equipped with some new abilities and stories of his own. However, thanks to Mario encompassing everything heroic under the sun, a lot of the time, Luigi tends to need to take the ‘road less traveled’ of abilities and stories. This may just be an out-of-character thing, but over time, it’s given Luigi this sort of niche that he fills compared to Mario.

Me, personally, I like to call Mario a ‘sun sibling’ and Luigi a ‘moon sibling’.

The sun is associated with brightness, happiness, daytime- the time that most people use to the fullest. A sunny day will bring a smile to anyone. Mario has the same happy aesthetics as the daytime, his adventures always triumphant and basking in the spotlight.

... (And sometimes, they’re quite literally ‘sunny’ adventures.)

Compare this to the moon- the nighttime. In popular culture, the night, darkness and even the moon have been used to signify darkness, mystery. The night in and of itself is something that’s only designated to ‘night owls’- it takes a lot of active planning to stay up for a lot of the night. However, the moon itself isn’t inherently dark- people still need it to get their eight hours. Even though the night’s job isn’t the same as the day’s, it’s still important...

...when the sun is hiding away.

That little bit of poetry aside, Luigi’s ‘dark’ and ‘against the norm’ aesthetic can be seen pretty much everywhere you look, even if you’re not much for my metaphors.

Luigi’s flagship series being all about ghost-hunting in a spooky, dark mansion...

(Which, by the way, in Mario Super Sluggers, can only be accessed at NIGHT!!! !!!)

Luigi being the one who has access to the mysterious and vague dream world powers,

Whatever this was,

This fucking guy,

You get the point.

Which leads me to my next point: Olivia and Olly are also Sun Sibling and Moon Sibling.

I’m sure this is fairly obvious to anyone who looks. Olivia is bubbly, excitable, friendly, and kind.

Olly is, um.

Not that.

(Oh also, their colour schemes the ‘night’ and ‘day’ colour schemes of Scorching Sandpaper Desert. So there’s that.)

So now we’ve established that

But here’s the thing. Siblings is not the same. See, there’s something different about Olly and Olivia compared to Mario and Luigi.

Olly is the older sibling. And just like that... Luigi’s primary reason for being a ‘moon’ sibling is just straight-up not available to Olly. Luigi got his quirks from being in Mario’s shadow, but Olly is new... fresh. He just is this way. It’s not a phase, CRAFTSMAN.

This poses some... interesting ideas when it’s presented next to the Mario brothers, though. Olivia is the younger sibling, who seems to look up to Olly just as much as Luigi looks up to Mario. Or at least... she’d like to.

Despite having LITERALLY NO EVIDENCE to believe this, Olivia spends the entire game saying that she believes Olly can be talked down from this. She almost treats Olly and his entire evil plan as two separate entities, almost like Olly is a damsel she has to rescue. Don’t get me wrong, she never shies away from saying her brother needs to be stopped, but considering what seemingly little reason Olly gives for her to believe he’s worth saving... (sorry Olly. You lived then you put your dad in a wall. Life’s tough like that. Also you put a rock on her.) She’s persistent.

Imagine how that must feel to Mario, seeing someone- seeing a Luigi who’s not the meek, mysterious one, but just as bright and bubbly as him. They grow so close throughout all this, but... Mario isn’t HER brother. And Olivia isn’t HIS sibling.

And neither of them forget that. Even for one second.

It makes us almost sigh in relief that Mario is such a good role model to both Olivia and Luigi, because Olivia shows us this idea of the underdog sibling not HAVING a forever-kind older brother. It’s... kinda sad. No, really sad. Olivia and Olly WANT to be a pair, but neither of them agree. They both want to ‘save’ each other, but they must keep battling if they want their side to win.

This on its own is pretty interesting, but I want to cover the ‘slightly missed potential’ part. If you think Olivia and Mario’s parallels are a good story bit... can you IMAGINE what Olly and Luigi would be like?

Referencing my Luigi analysis again, I concluded that Luigi has a bit of an inferiority superiority complex- a TV trope where someone’s feelings of inadequacy are often masked by an overconfidence, trying to hide that horrible blemish.

(Don’t worry. He gets better.)

Now, I wouldn’t say Olly is secretly insecure or anything- far from it. He is, however, EXCEEDINGLY confident, in both his abilities and his beliefs. He truly seems to believe that the ways of origami are glorious and that folding the kingdom will be a sort of ‘rebirth’. The only thing that is motivated entirely by his rage (not that those other parts aren’t, this one is just really personal) is his wish to turn every Toad into blank paper. And why is that?

Because the Origami Craftsman scribbled on him. It’s a blemish, and one that he keeps hidden VERY easily. (I mean, you don’t see it here, do you?)

...Interestingly, Olly has this line here:

He says he made Olivia ‘too perfect’. It’s backhanded, sure, but... it’s still a compliment. He thinks his sister is perfect. She is perfect. He is blemished.

The sun sibling is perfect...

The moon sibling isn’t.

This is why I think Olly and Luigi should have had some form of interaction. Luigi is this perfect mentor figure for the young king. Even though he wouldn’t be able to make a dent in Olly’s ideology or Toad-hating, there is one thing... one thing Olly might still be able to turn to the good side for.

His sister.

Despite the fact that Origami Castle gets folded to life before Mario’s very eyes, which is when Olly has asked time and time again for Olivia to join him, and she’s still refused, the castle is still LITTERED with decorations of BOTH OF THEM.

Olly still loves his sister. And he doesn’t want to lose her- even if he is blinded by rage. I think if Luigi was around Olly somehow, for most of the game (my personal idea would be that Luigi just can’t be folded somehow and Olly has no choice but to keep him in Peach’s Castle because he might help Mario otherwise), then he could say, from personal experience, how blind rage doesn’t solve anything... how your relationship with your sibling is the most precious thing in the world, should you keep it correctly.

How... he KNOWS Olivia really looks up to him and looks to him for guidance, because he’s the exact same way. And how Olivia needs her big brother.

Maybe Olly has some second thoughts, but convinces himself it’ll all be for the greater good. He just needs to defeat that red plumber.

That green plumber’s... big brother.

All in all, I think it could really have made Olly and Olivia even more impactful than they already are. At least they finally get reunited...

Even if it’s only for a brief moment.

#paper mario #mario #origami king #pmtok #origami king spoilers #king olly #[BANGING POTS AND PANS] IM BAAAAACK

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jolynej · 3 years

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I’m Not in Love

Summary: You and Prosciutto, both determined to keep things casual, are sent out on a mission to eliminate a target, but something goes wrong and you end up hurt, forcing Prosciutto to come to terms with his feelings

A/N: I started this weeks ago, but have been so busy that I haven’t had time to properly finish it until now! I’m a very slow writer, and I struggle with creating longer fics that exceed 1k words, so this was a huge labor of love! I hope that y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings: heavily implied nsft, violence, guns, minor character death, blood, Prosciutto being a bit of an asshole, fainting

You both told each other when you made this arrangement that it was strictly physical and that you were only doing this out of convenience and carnal desire. Sure, he’s very attractive, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about lingering in bed and pretending that you’re still asleep if only to savor his body heat and the weight of his arm across your torso for a few more minutes. But you couldn’t possibly cross that line.

The lives that both you led didn’t allow for the luxury of developing and maintaining romantic — or any, really — relationships that were outside of your work. You’d lost friends and family members to the steady passage of time and lack of communication. It came with the territory of the job, and though you’d tried to justify your drifting relationships by assuring yourself that it was done to protect those you used to hold close, you knew that was just an excuse you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.

The initial adjustment to your new job was tough in that aspect, but Prosciutto, aside from being your mentor, slowly became a comfort and a confidant for your bouts of anxiety and late night regrets of leaving your old life behind. You’d joined him outside at night on the balcony of the hideout plenty of times. He would self-soothe with cigarettes, exhaling out his demons in the shape of a puff of smoke whilst he listened to you reminisce on your happier, less bloody days.

“It’s a damn shame you’re so good at you job,” he’d told you one particular night, when the orange and white city lights below cast a bright glow over his sharp features; yet simultaneously, it accentuated the dark circles under his eyes, and the shadows beneath those jagged angles of his cheekbones and jawline made him look far older than he was. Prosciutto looked beautiful as he did horrible.

You just shook your head and smirked, inquiring, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Kid, there were many different paths that you could’ve picked from,” He stops briefly to take a drag of his cigarette. “But this is what you opted for.” The blond flicked his cigarette and snuffed it with the toe of his oxfords, answering with, “All I’m saying is that you had your whole life ahead of you, and instead of getting a normal, decent job, you decided that this was worth the Louboutins and those diamond earrings of yours.”

“It’s good that it ended up working out for you.”

His compliments were usually pretty backhanded, but you could tell that this wasn’t just because of his usual condescending behavior. He seemed almost... sad and guilty, but then again, it could just be from the shadows on his face exaggerating his features.

“I’m glad you’re damn good at your job, too,” you remarked, leaning against the railing, savoring in the feeling of the warm, summer night wind caressing your face.

Soon, you found the touch against your cheeks was replaced by his calloused fingers and then his lips, giving birth to a routine that would continue every-so-often: you’d join him outside at night and would wake up in bed next to him in a tangle of limbs and satin sheets.

Maybe it was only natural that you and him would end up growing closer and more intimate.

—

This little arrangement between the two of you continues, and with each time you bare yourself to him, you struggle with your developing feelings. After you had slept together that first night — before you had a real chance to give yourself a proper chance to evaluate your own feelings — he assured you that the prior night’s events had meant nothing to him, that it was a mistake. He apologized, confessing that the rendezvous had stemmed from a place of pent up arousal and convenience and that it wouldn’t happen again.

That’s what he’d said the second, and third, time too. But by the fourth time, you’d both decided to become ‘coworkers with benefits’ as you’d so eloquently put it. It’s purely out of physical need and mutual trust and nothing else. There’s no time for romance.

—

The following spring, you were sent out together to a job on the coast, and were given a shared room at a hotel near the warehouse where your target was supposedly going to be tonight. The assignment had worked in your favor, you’d both arrive mid-morning, have time to scout out the location, go back to the room for a quick fuck, then proceed to the location, clean up, and spend the night between the sheets until you both passed out from sheer exhaustion.

“The target should be on location this evening,” he informs you casually as he’s sliding on his trousers, as if he hadn’t just fucked you into the mattress. He gives his watch a quick glance before speaking again. “Which gives us approximately an hour before we need to head out.”

You nod, reaching for your clothes — his hand stops you, grasping your wrist. “Let me clean you up first,” he says, briefly locking eyes with you, before averting his gaze just as quickly. “If you’re going out you should at least be comfortable.”

While Prosciutto walks off to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water and a washcloth, you look down at your naked body. Your combined releases dribble down your thighs, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the sticky, wet sensation on your lower body.

He’s back approximately a minute later, the glass is set upon the nightstand, and he’s kneeling, still shirtless, at your feet with the wet washcloth in hand. He cleans you up in relative silence, and the intimacy and vulnerability in this situation is not lost on either of you. It hangs around like a heavy fog that both of you desperately try to ignore, hoping that it’ll dissipate.

Under different circumstances, you’d love to be able to cradle his chin in your hand and confess every single romantic thought that you’d ever held for him, and in turn, he’d press tender kisses up your thighs, and trade the rag for his tongue, cleaning you up with a few slow licks. Instead, you give him a curt, ‘thank you’ and get dressed.

Your little trysts were littered with subtle, more domestic moments like this one where you wanted to push the boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate when you’re in a friends-with-benefits situation with your coworker. Even without the romance that you so desperately craved, there was still a strong sense of intimacy and familiarity with each ‘Was I too rough?’ or ‘You can sleep in here tonight’ that could only stem from a certain level of trust and comfort.

The rest of the time leading up to your assignment was spent going over your plan of attack and working out any loose ends or confusion on either side, and as he spoke, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to travel down to his plush lips and the exposed patch of skin from his half-buttoned blouse that, when he shifted at a certain angle, allowed for you to catch a glimpse of a dark red bruise where your lips had been.

You were passing the threshold, the imaginary line. You’d stepped on it, gotten it stuck to your feet, and try as you may to deny its presence and scrub it clean from your skin — you could scrub it raw, until you bled — it wasn’t something you could erase.

As he’s stepping out of the hotel room, you glance back to ask him if he’s ready, but you’re caught off guard by the buttons of his shirt. They’re all closed completely save for a lone button rendering the bruise no longer visible. Inquisitively, the blond quirks up an eyebrow, silently asking if there’s a problem.

“I’m just ready to get this over with,” you sigh, matching your stride with his as you both exit the hotel and journey to the warehouse.

The target doesn’t show as planned, much to your and Prosciutto's dismay and annoyance. You had both searched the large building and its surroundings as thoroughly as possible but still the target hasn’t made an appearance. There aren’t even any hidden clues as to where he’s run off to. As pissed as you both felt in that moment — you were cursing to yourself and your partner was leaning against a metal structure with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth — Risotto was going to be absolutely furious.

Unlike most contracts where you were paid after the deed or half before and half after, the client had paid a hefty sum up front and with a dark leer he was insistent that the job be completed as soon as possible. Something deep within you knew that he would not be the type of man whose bad side you’d like to be on.

Defeated and angry, you both decided to bite the bullet and head back to the hotel to inform your superior of the unfortunate situation. Just outside of the hotel, Prosciutto glances over at a payphone on the street corner.

“Go on inside and shower and eat, kid, I’ll talk to Risotto.”

“Are you sure? We can speak to him together, or I can just sp—“ He cut you off with a hand patting your cheek, gently thumbing your skin. He was stressed and so were you.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he manages a tiny half-smile. “I’ve got it.”

Yeah, you are stressed as all hell, but at least you didn’t have to be at the receiving end of Risotto’s wrath — for tonight anyway. Thinking about Prosciutto opting to do so in your stead and acting out of concern for you sends a cacophony of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. He has always looked out for you ever since you’d joined, but this was something more than just him looking out for a junior member of his team. There was no way that he’d touch Formaggio or even Pesci like that, with such a pure tenderness that leaves your skin tingling from where his fingers were.

Making your way up the stairs to your shared room, the sensation of butterflies immediately flees from your stomach and instead, an eerie, insidious feeling begins to tiptoe up your spine, and you get the sense that something is very, very wrong.

One of the hall lights has gone out, and the other is flickering in random spasms as it emits a faint buzz. With each step towards your door, the broken light fixture seems to dim and buzz louder until it makes one final loud screech and dies completely the moment that you touch the door handle, and as soon as your fingers gripped the metal handle, an overpowering jolt of electricity fizzles throughout your entire body, sending you doubling over in pain, desperately croaking out for your stand as you fall to the dingy carpet.

The world around you seemed to morph into blackness and little snippets of sounds — you weren’t sure if you were still awake or if you’d lost consciousness — but you clung onto what you could decipher to the best of your ability. Static, the plodding footfall of someone running on carpet with urgency, the unmistakable click of a gun, a heavy thud, then silence.

You crane your head and espy a familiar pair of oxfords, and with a sigh of relief you feel your eyes grow heavy.

—

You come-to in the backseat of a car, and if it weren’t for the intensity of the events before you passed out, you would’ve happily shut your eyes to the steady thrum of the car speeding down the road. A bubble of panic rises up your throat, throwing your senses in overdrive as you carefully assess your surroundings. You find that a suit jacket has been draped over you like a makeshift blanket, and the familiar scent of cologne, tobacco, and cigarette-smoke is an instant relief.

Looking up, you find Prosciutto is in the driver’s seat of the car with a plain, white tank top in the place of his button-up. The bones of his knuckles are prominent due to the strain and force of his grip on the steering wheel, and they’re dotted with specks of red that extend up to his forearms.

There’s an evident scowl on his lips, which are scabbed and bloody from worrying teeth marks and not from — what you can safely assume given the sound you’d heard earlier — a gunshot to the man that had been in your hotel room.

“The target was dealt with,” he says upon seeing you awake, and he disguises it with a cough, but his entire face softens with a relieved sigh. The visible tension in his bulging veins on his forearms eases along with the death-grip that he has on the steering wheel; Prosciutto settles one hand on his thigh, splaying his fingers out on the fabric of his trousers, feeling for something in his pocket — cigarettes most likely. He’s still antsy and tense, alternating between his hands on the wheel to search his other pocket.

You have a myriad of questions wreaking havoc on your brain, which is still a bit fuzzy from the electricity and has brought on a dull headache. With the blazer clenched tightly to your chest, you fiddle around until you find a pack of his smokes and pull them out, holding them in the air with a dopey, lopsided grin that says ‘lookee here!’. It earns a playful eye roll and a smirk from Prosciutto who brings his hand back to take them from you.

When you offer the box up, your fingers brush, and you swear that he leaves his hand extended towards you a moment longer than necessary. The sensation sends a full-body chill through your veins.

“Put the coat on, kid, I don’t want you freezing up and getting sick in the car.” He’s staring straight out at the road, but you know the sentiment is there, beneath the layer of sweat and blood there’s worry. “Go back to sleep,” he orders in that gravelly, stern but caring tone of his that he uses on you when he gives you orders, and only you. In a way, it’s not that much different from how he talks in bed, and the familiarity has you warm all over. God, you’re in love with this man.

“I’ll wake you up in about an or two, capisce?”

—

You’re awoken by Prosciutto opening the door of the backseat and calling your name. You can barely see him, he’s almost a dark, looming figure in the night. The sky in the countryside is worlds away from the city skyline that you’re accustomed to. Behind him, there’s a sea of twinkling stars, and the bright crescent moon hangs proudly behind his head like a half-halo, and he appears to you like a fallen angel, still clinging on desperately to something good and holy that someone like him does not deserve. In his right hand, he holds a shovel, and his arms and face and tank top are caked in the weight of his sins, blood and dirt and sweat; you surmise that the closer you get to him, the less the moon resembles a halo and moreso a pair of horns. Again, the night is playing tricks on you.

“I’ve buried the remains,” he explains. “I decided it would be easiest to just take care of it myself until we can get you checked out. We don’t know the full extent of the damage that you’ve received or what effects that my stand could have on you in this state.” It’s a poor excuse, and you both know it, but it’s easier for him to lie to you when his facial expressions are harder to see.

Still, you don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline in your blood, your feelings for him, or some leftover electricity that’s done something to your brain, but you decide to call him out.

Sitting upright, you say, “I still could’ve helped, Prosci, otherwise there would be no point for me to come on this mission with you. You’ve done more than enough to help me, and I… I really appreciate everything that you’ve done to help me, but I have to work to earn my share of the payment!

“I can’t just lie back and let you treat me like some doll or damsel in distress!” You spout, wadding up his blazer and tossing it at him. He catches it with a growl, and the shovel clatters to the ground with a resounding clang.

He’s crawling across the backseat, hovering over you like a mangy beast; truthfully, you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look so unhinged and disheveled. His scent bears no resemblance to the comforting aroma of his suit-jacket, and instead, he emits a pungent odor of grime and sweat, evident by the damp, dirty stray pieces of hair that encircle his face and the thin layer of earth that stains his skin with splotches of gray and brown. He looks like he can hurt you, and for a second you make the mistake of thinking that he will.

“Kid, you need to listen to me! I—“ he huffs, but upon seeing your face up close, all scared and doe-like, he kisses you. It’s emotional and hurried and needy and far unlike any previous kiss that you’d shared. It’s not spurred on by wanting or lust but by love and a great fear of loss.

“I love you,” he whispers like a gasp when he pulls apart from you. “I love you,” he says once more, softer, sweeter. “I love you.”

In his eyes, you can see every word that he leaves unsaid, his confession of how afraid he was that he’d never see you again, how he panicked and saw red and shot the man on sight, how he carried you to the car with a metaphorical knife stabbing at his heart, and how he almost cried from relief when he saw you open your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you say back, smiling, kissing him again with that same passion as before.

#prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #tumblr formats things so weirdly!#jjba #my fics

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beifongsss · 4 years

Text

doubts [zuko]

Pairing: (Fire Lord) Zuko x reader (i’m such a simp for Fire Lord Zuko)

Requested?: Yes! By a marvelous anon!: “hi! so i was thinking either a zuko x reader or sokka x reader please, where it's the night of your wedding and you're not ready and then he gets mad but fluff at the end :) if you can't do it i totally understand, thank you !!”

Summary: It’s a day before your wedding and you find yourself in Katara’s room, worried about your duties as the Fire Lord’s spouse. I tried to keep it gender neutral!

.masterlist.

You had met Zuko way before Aang had defeated Ozai, back when he was still the banished prince. The start of your relationship was rough, especially when you remembered how the two of you had constantly been at each other’s throats when he finally joined Team Avatar.

Eventually, the scathing remarks and backhanded compliments faded away to teasing comments and shy smiles as the two of you shared many sleepless nights under the stars. It was during these nights that the two of you opened up to each other, Zuko finally revealing information about his childhood and how he got his scar and you telling him all about your own upbringing and how you ended up traveling with the Gaang. You had ended up sleeping in each others’ arms that night, Momo snuggling in between the two of you.

That night changed your whole dynamic and after Ozai’s defeat, Aang forced the two of you to confess your feelings for each other. Your relationship bloomed quickly, the events you had been through only making your connection that much stronger. It wasn’t a relationship built only on attraction; it was one built on mutual trust and respect, and the confidence of knowing that you were there for each other no matter what.

That was what had led to Zuko proposing marriage at a young age.

When the words came out of his mouth, you had been shocked. To be honest, you had always thought that you’d be the first to bring up the idea of marriage. You had also expected to talk about it once the two of you were older and Zuko had gotten used to his duties as the Fire Lord, not when the two of you were on the edge of seventeen. Despite your surprise, you had agreed after making him promise to wait until the two of you were eighteen.

He had agreed, stating that he was certain that you were it for him.

Now, two years later, you found yourself smiling as the Gaang arrived at the palace. They were there for your wedding, which would be taking place in two days. Zuko had kept his promise and now that the two of you were eighteen, he didn’t want to waste any more time without you at his side.

The first day the Gaang was there was spent catching up with each other. Zuko had even managed to get the day off by asking Iroh to attend some meetings in his place. You had taken them to the city, giving them a proper tour now that they weren’t wanted criminals.

The Gaang spent most of the day silently fawning over the way the two of you treated each other, Zuko buying you snacks that he knew you liked and smiling when you kissed his cheek in thanks and you making sure that he was comfortable being surrounded by so many people. You truly were the perfect couple. Your action-packed day came to an end with a picnic in the royal gardens, lounging around as Aang played with the turtle ducks.

The next day was the day before your wedding, and you didn’t get the chance to see Zuko all day. You spent the day in the library with Sokka, who claimed that he wanted to learn more about the history of the Fire Nation. It felt nice to have a calm day, especially knowing that after tomorrow you would be married to the Fire Lord. Your stomach flipped uncomfortably at your thoughts and you swallowed nervously as Sokka turned to you.

“So?” he asked, a book in his hand as he stared at you. “How does it feel knowing that after tomorrow you’re no longer single?”

“I’m not single now,” you replied blandly. “I’m dating Zuko.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sokka said, waving off your words. “But after tomorrow you’re like, bound to him. How does it feel, knowing that you’re going to help him run the Fire Nation?”

You visibly paled at Sokka’s words, causing him to put the book down immediately and approach you.

“(Y/N/N)? Are you good?” he asked, gently grasping your shoulder. You didn’t look at him as you nodded.

“I-I’m great Sokka,” you replied quietly, shooting out of your chair and heading for the door. “I just remembered I promised Katara I’d visit her.”

Sokka’s worried gaze followed you as you darted out of the room. He stood there for a moment before shrugging and sitting back down.

“Wow, those pre-wedding jitters must be pretty intense.”

Katara gasped and whirled around as you burst into her room. She was about to scold you when she noticed the panicked look on your face and the tears welling up in your eyes.

“(Y/N)? What happened?” Katara asked, rushing to you and wrapping you up in her arms. She tried to kick the door closed as she led you over to her bed but failed, leaving the door open an inch. You didn’t say anything as she sat you down, your face contorted in a grimace as you thought about Sokka’s words.

“Sokka said something and it made me panic,” you finally breathed out, turning to look at Katara. She snorted.

“Don’t listen to anything my idiot brother says.”

“No, he asked me if I was ready to help Zuko rule the Fire Nation,” you clarified, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. “And I’m not. I’m not ready Katara.”

Katara rubbed your arm as she looked at you understandingly. “It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?”

“That’s an understatement,” you mumbled. “I love Zuko, so much. But I’m not the right person to rule by his side. It should be Mai or someone else who knows the proper etiquette and laws of the Fire Nation.”

“You can always learn (Y/N/N),” Katara said softly. “Zuko wants you by his side. We’ve all seen the way you act around each other; he wants you by his side because he trusts you to help him out whenever he needs you to. And you’re gonna do a great job!”

You sighed before replying. “I’m just so nervous Katara. I’m not good enough to marry royalty. I feel so inadequate here, and I don’t know how to change that! How am I expected to help the Fire Lord when I can barely help you cook?!”

Katara chuckled at your words before falling silent. She didn’t know what to say.

Elsewhere in the palace, Zuko was getting out of his last meeting for the day. He walked off in the direction of your bedroom, determined to surprise you with a romantic dinner before your big day. When he didn’t find you, he checked the library, knowing that it was one of your favorite rooms in the palace. The only thing he found was a reading Sokka, who only mumbled that you had gone to visit Katara before he focused on his book once more.

Sighing, Zuko made his way towards Katara’s room, pausing slightly when he noticed that the door was open. He was about to knock when he was halted by the sound of your voice.

“Katara, maybe this marriage isn’t the best idea.”

Zuko felt his heart drop at your words, his throat closing up slightly as he registered your words. Before jumping to any conclusions, he waited a bit, wanting to hear Katara’s response

“(Y/N)? What do you mean?” Katara replied. “Zuko loves you, he’s been waiting for this day for literal years.”

“I know,” came your reply. “But I can’t go through with it. Especially not when I’m having all these doubts.”

“Ok, wait,” Katara spoke again. “Let’s think this through first.”

“Let’s not,” Zuko said, finally stepping into the room. The two of you stared up at him, Katara’s mouth dropping open in surprise as your eyes widened in shock. “If you didn’t want to marry me, you should’ve just said so.”

Katara stood up immediately, her cheeks blushing with embarrassment after Zuko’s sudden appearance. She awkwardly bowed to the boy before heading to the door. “I’ll uh, I’ll let you two sort this out.”

“That was weird,” you spoke first, breaking the silence. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her bow to you before.”

A smile twitched at Zuko’s lips before he remembered your earlier words. You glanced up at him, flinching slightly at the hard expression on his face. “Zuko, I-”

“We don’t have to get married (Y/N),” he spoke bluntly, no emotion present in his voice. “You could’ve just told me and I would’ve called it off. In fact, let me go do that right now.”

“Zuko, no,” you replied, standing up. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just didn’t want you to-”

“You didn’t want me to what, (Y/N)?” Zuko snapped, causing you to flinch and take a step backwards. He was angry, that much you could tell. “You didn’t want me to find out that you had no intention of staying in my life, that you had doubts about being with me? What have these past few years meant to you? Because if you were planning on leaving me at the altar you could’ve just told me you didn��t love me anymore.”

“W-What?” you asked, gasping lightly at his words. That’s why he was angry; he thought you wanted to call off the wedding because you didn’t love him anymore. You stepped closer to him. “Zuko.”

He pulled away from you, trying not to look at you as tears pricked at his eyes. His thoughts ran wild as he tried to pinpoint the moment you had lost feelings for him. He knew it was his fault, he didn’t spend enough time with you or buy you any sparkling jewels or-

“I’m so in love with you, Zuko,” you whispered, interrupting his inner turmoil. You sidled up next to him, reaching out to gently brush away the tears that had escaped his eyes and were now trailing down his face. He turned away from you and scoffed, a harsh expression still on his face.

“No you aren’t.”

You felt your heart leap into your throat as you took him in. You held your breath as you turned his head back towards before pressing your lips against his. Zuko’s hands went to your waist instinctively and you could taste the tears he had shed as his lips molded against yours perfectly. You tried your best to pour as much love as you could into the kiss. He pulled away from you first, tears still falling as he looked at you in disbelief.

“My doubts weren’t about my love for you Zuko,” you spoke quietly, your eyes never leaving his. “I have never doubted my love for you. In my heart I have always known that you’re the one for me, as cheesy as that sounds.”

Zuko swallowed as he searched your eyes, finding nothing but the truth. “Then w-why-”

“I was having doubts about myself,” you whispered, cutting him off. “I love you so much that it hurts, but I’m not good enough to rule by your side. You deserve someone better; someone who knows how to deal with Fire Nation issues and help you make the best decisions that will benefit your nation. That’s not me. I barely even know who the Fire Lord before Sozin was!”

“You’re more than enough,” Zuko replied, his voice rough as he reached out to hold you. “You’re all that I have ever needed or wanted and you’re gonna do an amazing job by my side.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked softly, melting into his touch.

“You can always learn about your duties as the Fire Lord’s spouse,” he replied, causing your mouth to twitch up as you remembered Katara’s earlier words. She had said the same thing. “You’re a quick learner. Besides, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

You sighed softly as you leaned against him, his anger and insecurities fading as he held you tightly.

“If it makes you more comfortable, we can always postpone the wedding,” Zuko mumbled. You hummed lightly as you snuggled up against his chest.

“No, you’re right,” you replied quickly. “I’m gonna have to learn about my duties anyways, there’s no reason for the wedding to be postponed.”

The room went silent for a while.

“Did you really think that I would leave you?” you whispered, your heart sinking as you realized how upset Zuko was when he thought he would lose you.

The Fire Lord cleared his throat before speaking. “I uh, I- yes.”

You looked up to see him hanging his head in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just, I could understand why someone like you could stop loving someone like me. You’re too good for me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you replied, looking at him in disbelief. “Zuko, if anything I’m not good enough for you! I love you so so much. You’ve shown me what it’s like to love and be loved and you’ve always respected me, which is all I could ever ask for. You mean the world to me and I never want you to forget that.”

Zuko stared at you for a minute before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You responded eagerly, tangling your hands in his hair and causing the royal headpiece to topple to the ground. He backed you up against the desk in the room, breaking the kiss to look down at you.

“I love you too,” he said breathlessly. “More than you will ever know.”

“I can’t wait to marry you,” you mumbled as he pressed his lips back to yours. He smiled into the kiss, only responding by pulling you closer to him.

“So, I’m guessing the wedding is still on?”

The two of you broke apart to see Katara leaning against the doorframe, a smug smile on her face. Your face turned bright red as Zuko’s head dropped onto your shoulder in embarrassment, only managing a small nod. Zuko nodded along with you as he straightened up, intertwining his hand with yours as he began to lead you out of the room.

“Yeah, it is,” he said as he passed Katara, knowing that she was about to go tell all their friends about what she had witnessed. He could deal with the teasing just this once. After all, how could he be angry when he was about to marry the love of his life.

The two of you were halfway down the hall when Katara poked her head out of her room, holding out the royal headpiece in her hand.

“Hey! Aren’t you two forgetting something?”

~ taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby, @bubblebars, @iguessthefloorislava, @dekahg, @boxofteenageideas, @bottledcostcowater, @butterflycore, @coldlilheart

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stay-tinystars · 3 years

Text

Table Tennis

Ship: Hyunjae (TBZ) x reader

Non idol, college au, slice of life, enemies to lovers (sort of) angsty fluff?

Word count: 1,184

Warnings: rivalry between reader & Hyunjae, mischievous friends, I'm not even sure what else to be honest.

A/N: I wanted to write something about Hyunjae, and when I saw that he liked table tennis this is where my mind went. I hope you all like it. Please let me know what you think.

"Well Mr. smartie pants. I bet I can best you at almost anything here." you yelled competitively as you entered the empty rec room at the university.

"Don't be so sure." you could hear his smirk.

Hyunjae had been your rival, for lack of a better word, all semester. The chemistry professor had pitted the two of you against each other the first day.

It was a friendly rivalry, yet the both of you couldn't stand letting the other top your score, nor did either of you accept defeat when the other finished the assignment before you. Which led to today. It was the week before finals, last day in class, and the professor had told you both that he enjoyed seeing the way the two of you had learned together. You both had top marks in the class. That's when Hyunjae asked 'so professor, who has a better percentage' which spiraled into an argument. The professor never answered, he just smiled as he watched the two of you bicker.

"OK, being as you scored lower, I'll give you the upper hand, and let you choose" he mocked, as he looked around the room.

"He never answered on who had the better marks" you defended pointing at him, with your finger and your eyes.

"That's because he didn't want to see you cry" his eyes became devilish.

"Oh shut up" you said, exasperated. You quickly surveyed the room, when the familiar folded green table caught your eye. You grew up playing against your dad, and you knew you could beat this pompous jerk at table tennis. You walked over and grabbed a paddle, then turned to face him.

"Table tennis" you smirked, and he laughed in response.

"Really?" Laughter hung on every letter. "You think you can best me at ping pong?"

"Yes, I am in fact very skilled at table tennis." you jeered back as you started putting the table into playing position.

A half hour later you were still in the intense match with Hyunjae. The both of you had drawn a small crowd to the rec room. The score was 6:5 it had been a fairly even match.

The room cheered as you hit the ball, it spun slightly, hitting the table just right before bouncing past his paddle, scoring against Hyunjae. He glared as he retrieved the ball

"5 serving 7" he growled as he served. The small ball seemed to float, as the two of you continued another long rally. "You know I'm actually impressed. No one has ever actually played against me this well" you almost stopped at Hyunjae's words. Was he actually trying to compliment you? He took the your moment of confusion to backhand the ball, scoring as it soared past you. Some cheers as well as some disappointed cries came from the crowd around you.

"You should always pay attention" his devilish smirk reappeared.

"I guess I was just taken back by your fake kindness" you rebuttled, "7 serving 6" you called as you started another rally.

"This is it! Game point!" Eric yelled as the crowd cheered, it was 10:9. Hyunjae was leading. The crowd was lively, on a Thursday afternoon you expected there wasn't much else for them to be doing. The rally was getting more and more intense. Hyunjae backhanded the ball, to which you smashed back. Bringing the score to an even 10:10.

"She's not going down that easy!" Kevin cheered, and high fived someone behind you.

"Of course I'm not. He's just gotten a few lucky shots" you smirked, placing your hands on your hips. Hyunjae glared at you.

"Lucky shots? Lucky shots? Yeah right. I'm better than you." He stated, setting down his paddle and walking towards you.

"We are literally tied" you met him. Now standing toe to toe. The tension was thick. "Admit it! I am just as good as you are." you poked his chest emphasizing every word. He grabbed your left wrist, holding it between the two of you.

"No, I don't lie." he leaned in, his eyes boring into yours, with a fierce glare. You opened your mouth to speak when you felt hands on your back push you into Hyunjae. Your lips connected with his for a moment.

The shock on both of your faces must've been evident as you both looked at each other as you separated, taking a step back. You both stared at each other while the room seemed to explode with cheers.

"I - ugh" you yelled, as you threw your paddle to the ground. You stormed out of the room, and down the hall, as oohs fell from the lips of the crowd.

"Wait!" You heard Hyunjae, his footsteps echoing behind you.

"What?" You responded as you whipped around. He skidded to a halt, almost knocking you over. You tried catching yourself against the wall, his arm around your waist also trying to catch you.

He opened his mouth, then closed it shaking his head. "I'm sorry" his words barely left his lips.

"About what?" You asked brashedly, pulling yourself from his grip.

"Being a jerk." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I tend to get very competitive."

"Really? I couldn't tell." sarcasm dripped from your lips.

"You're not making this easy," he sighed, biting his lip slightly.

"What am I not making easy? You have riled me up all semester. Your little jabs, your mocking tones. I am just as good as you are Hyunjae!" Hot angry tears stung your eyes. You refused to let them fall.

"That's where you're wrong-" you cut him off,

"Hell of an apology" you turned to walk away, but he caught your wrist.

"Let me finish. You're wrong because you're not just as good as I am, you're better" he looked sincere, but your anger was too much. You went to pull away, but his hand remained tight on your wrist.

"I don't believe you"

"Look, I tend to get caught up in everything. Friendly competition isn't usually friendly with me." He let go of your wrist and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes darted from you to the floor multiple times. He seemed to be scrambling for something to say, yet the words never came.

A sigh left your lips. You'd always known you were stubborn. You also knew you had a mean competitive streak. Maybe he wasn't so different than you.

"Can you both just admit you like each other?" Eric's voice rang through the hallway, followed by stifled laughter.

"Shut up Eric!" Hyunjae called back smugly, then looked at you.

"Not until we see a real kiss, being as the last one backfired" Kevin chimed in.

"So it was you! You little twerp!" You yelled as you started towards them, Hyunjae's laughter caught you off guard, as well as his hand on your shoulder. "What's so funny?" You asked, cocking your eyebrow looking at him.

"I haven't heard someone be called a twerp in years" he laughed harder. "It fits him so well"

You couldn't help but smile, then you started laughing too.

#the boyz hyunjae #the boyz imagines #the boyz slice of life #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae angst #hyunjae college au

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bluemoondust · 3 years

Text

My twst oc boy's birthday was only two days ago and I wanted to just do something for it. I at least want to get some stress off my back so here's just a short something for him. His name is Cosmo and this is what he looks like (the blonde one). Hope you like him!

Warning(s): Clingy Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Slight Pain (just a strong grip on darling's wrist), Mentions of Yelling, Attempted Kidnapping to actual Kidnapping

Notes: Darling is not MC in this; just is in the same boat as them, Everyone is 18+

You knew he wasn't that air headed from the second time you encountered him. He was just as cheery and naive as the Scarabia Dorm Leader, yet something was amiss as you heard more whispers along the hallways. He was a Spellman, but that didn't mean anything to you. How would you know if this world was so new to you? What did that even mean?

He was so eager to hang around you and your fellow friends, like he was starving for this sort of interaction. He'd always compliment and playfully tease you, but sometimes those smiles didn't reach his ruby red eyes. Maybe you're just imagining things. Cosmo had never done anything to even cause this sort of unease. He may be whatever others say he is, but that's just because of a name, right?

"You won't leave me, will you?" It was initially just an act of his whiny attitude when he got all pouty because of his elder brother's backhanded insults. The two would always get into petty arguments and Cosmo would complain if his brother got away with it. It isn't fair as he puts it. Still, now that question seems more alarming as time passes.

... and everything still seemed so normal and at peace.

You didn't have time for this. All this speculation was exhausting your mind and body. Sleep was more difficult as days pass and strange dreams woke you up. They weren't the usual mirror dreams you'd get. Maybe it was a sign, but how could you tell? A yawn passes your lips as you get up for the day. Might as well pull through and possibly get a nap in between lessons so you can avoid the chance of passing out in the hallways. That'd be a sight for others... And bothersome.

You've decided to rest in the library during break, letting Grim hang out with Ace and Deuce without you. All that was needed was some time for yourself. This was one of the only places you could get that.

Cosmo was much fussier than usual. Even more clingy as well as he spotted you sitting alone. He immediately vented out his frustrations of his brothers and other students; they were all so annoying and can't let him be at peace. "Not you guys though. You're very dear to me and I know you'll never upset me." It was supposed to be something of a way to cheer himself up, telling himself he had friends in you all no matter what.

"My brother doesn't like you. Because you're magicless and still manage to attend the school." Cosmo's voice was eerily monotone as he changed the subject, immediately making you hyper aware of where you were.

He blows air out of his mouth in a huff, "I don't care though. His pride is just wounded because of all the hard work he did to get here." A smirk creeped onto his lips. "It was so satisfying to see the look on his face."

You didn't know how to respond; couldn't tell if he was being serious about this conversation or just poking fun at his brother. His arm suddenly made it's way around your shoulder and his weight leaned onto your body.

"He's foolish and a complete pompous bastard." Cosmo sounded... Playful, but there was an edge to his voice. "Do you know what he told me this morning as I left my dorm?"

"No... What did he say?"

A soft but sharp laugh answered you as Cosmo displayed a tight smile. "He said you all are a bad influence on me. Especially you." A scoff. "What does he know?"

The half hug was suddenly becoming suffocating but that didn't seem to come to the blonde's attention. He was so warped up in every negative thought he had. You believed it was time to cut this conversation short before things escalated. It wasn't something you wanted to fear to happen, but there have been other times where your safety was threatened in this school. With a quick but gentle shove, you pried Cosmo off of you. Of course this startles him a little, until he gives you those puppy dog eyes.

"Oh, is it time to go already. Aw... I wanted some more time with you."

You did your best to push down the unease, mustering up your best smile. "Yeah, can't help that time flies, you know?"

Cosmo chuckles bitterly at your words. "Mhm. But... Maybe we can skip? Please? I'll make it up to you. I'll get notes from the class so we don't miss anything."

"Sorry Cosmo, but I can't afford to skip. Grim needs me there after all."

The young man blinks before pouting in defeat. "Fine, fine. You win. You're lucky that I like you~"

It doesn't mean anything. He always teases like this.

"Ah, well, I better get going. See you later." With a wave, you dash off to ensure you get to class on time. The whole conversation kept replying in your head as you felt his burning stare onto your back while your form got farther away.

"Of course."

Where the hell is this? You frantically scanned the area to see that you're nearing the woods next to the school. Everything was dark and crickets were chirping. Nighttime. How? A million thoughts raced through your head, but one excruciatingly loud one told you to head back to your room. You need a place of comfort to gather your thoughts for now—

"Aw man. I knew I shouldn't have strained my vocals too much."

"Cosmo?" Leave. Run. You had to get away. Seeing him and the desire to sprint was one thing you were sure of. Him being here was an obvious red flag. But why couldn't you move? Don't just stand there!

All you could do was listen to him hum cheerfully like you weren't absolutely terrified at this moment. "This is the farthest I've taken you out tonight. Guess singing without a water break is quite bothersome. Ugh..." He looked annoyed but he quickly shifted his expression to one of joy.

"But at least I managed to place a teensy curse on you before you could process anything! Aren't I resourceful! Vil always did tell me I should be more prepared in various situations."

You weren't listening. You wanted to scream, do anything other than be near him at this moment. Why you?

He crept closer, touching your face as he sighed in content. His forehead was then pressed against yours. "I wish we could stay like this forever... Just the two of us." Cosmo grabbed your wrists.

"Cosmo, please stop. This is wrong. We... We can talk this out. Just let me go."

He laughed at you. "Oh no, I can't do that my sweet thing." His increasing grip scared you as his smile remained but his tone shifted. "I can't afford to lose you. You're my everything. The only one who listens and cares. My brother be damned!"

It was the first time you've seen him express rage. All those pouts, whines, complaints were replaced with sneers, growls, and yelling. This might scare you a little less than his eerie calm and joyful self, but it made you flinch nonetheless. You hoped that this was all just some cruel nightmare from the lack of sleep.

"I'm so sorry... It'll be alright once you get you past that point. Then, you won't ever have a reason to leave me! You won't leave me," His voice lowered in a serene, but threatening melody, "Will you (Come To Me)?"

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere writing #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere twst oc #yandere twisted wonderland oc #yandere

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im-whatchamccallit · 4 years

Text

Risking It//Mark Tuan (Got7)

Part 2|Masterlist|Rules

Request: YAY I’M SO EXCITED THAT YOU’RE BACK!! I hope you’ve been well (: I’ve missed you and your writing! May I request a college boyfriend Mark Tuan story! You can write it about whatever you want I just love the idea of Mark as a college boyfriend he gives me those vibes. Please make it fluffy and smutty if you’re feeling adventurous ;) Hahaha thank you so much! Have a wonderful day 😁😁😁

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader

Genre: College! AU, fluff but mostly smut (sorry, the hoe in me took over)

Warnings: sexual content (oral sex, fingering, mentions of overstimulation), kinda poorly written because I’m scatterbrained and couldn’t find a perfect concept lol

Words: 3.9k

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to focus on what your professor was saying, writing notes from the words she spoke in fear it’d be on a future pop quiz, but you couldn’t focus with the pair of eyes boring into you. You were trying to ignore Mark but he refused to look away, wanting you to look at him as he sat by idly at your teacher’s desk.

You weren’t sure what to expect when Mark was announced as the TA for your class, but you didn’t expect him to be, well, himself. You figured he’d try to be professional and fair, giving everyone equal amounts of attention and help whenever necessary, instead he’d always find his way to you, cracking jokes and even flirting. You were doing extremely well in this course, not needing the extra help which upset him a bit, so during times when he couldn’t talk to you up close, or text you in case your teacher saw, he’d stare, hoping to have a silent conversation with you to ease his clingy nature. But you weren’t catching on, his lips threatening to form a pout as he looked away.

“Mark.” His head snapped upwards as your professor called him, his body standing as he waited for her instructions.

“Can you hand out the graded test please? They’re on the corner of my desk.” He nodded, mentally cheering as he prepared himself to speak to you for the first time today.

Despite your professor speaking, you tuned her out, watching Mark anxiously as he went to each person, congratulating those that did well and telling others they can retake the test another day to salvage their grades. You were nervous. You weren’t as confident in this test as you were others and the idea of getting anything less than a 100 made you want to cry. You couldn’t even find ease in the way Mark was approaching you, the smile on his face might be because you did well or because he just wanted your attention, your mind screaming for it to be the former.

Mark gently handed you the booklet like test, your eyes immediately landing on the 98 that sat on the top of the front page, the pressured feeling in your chest not leaving even as an audible sigh left your lips while his hand rested on your head, causing your eyes to meet his.

“Good job.” You couldn’t help but give a small smile, finally giving him what he’s been wanting to see all day.

“Professor Ahn,” One girl, Yeeun, spoke up, everyone’s attention falling to her as she stood.

“Considering your TA is the one who graded the test, and is also (Y/n)’s boyfriend, don’t you think there’s a bit of bias on his part?”

The way she looked over at the both of you as if she had won some battle didn’t sit right with you, your eyes narrowing into a glare while Mark only smirked, continuing passing out the test as your professor sighed heavily.

“Ms. Shin, Mr. Tuan made me aware of his relationship with Ms. (Y/L/N) the day he arrived, which is why I personally grade all her test myself. In other words, the score (Y/n) received is not only valid but the only one to reach over 90% in this class, so I suggest you focus on your own grades instead of worrying about those two.” Mark wanted to laugh at the way she sat down in such a defeated state, scowling at the 73 on the paper as if it were a nuisance.

Professor Ahn repeated Mark’s words, reminding everyone that retakes would happen for the next two days during her free periods and after school before officially dismissing everyone, your body moving a bit slower than everyone else so you were left behind, Professor Ahn heading into her personal office just behind her desk while you approached Mark, his face in a cute pout.

“You didn’t look at me today.”

“I was nervous.” You responded, reaching to cup his face before bringing him into a soft kiss, pulling away before he could take it any further.

“What’s your next class?” He asked, reaching for your hand to lead you out of the room.

“I’m actually done for the day. And, I know you’re free too, so I figured we could just hang out.” The look you gave was hinting to something that could only spell trouble, yet he was hoping it was exactly what he was thinking, his lips forming a smirk as he stepped closer to you.

“Alright, and just where are we heading exactly?”

“I’ll give you a hint; we’ll be at my place, in my room, on a desk.” He didn’t waste a second dragging you down the busy halls, that hint more than clear for him to understand.

Yet he didn’t understand. Well, it was more like you tricked him.

By ‘on a desk’, he was hoping for something with you laid out beneath him with a lot less clothing involved and more x-rated touching. Instead, you were still in the baby pink high waist skirt and white sweater you wore for class earlier, the once seemingly normal and innocent outfit driving him crazy now, the only touching he received were pokes to the temple of his head whenever he read a question from your graded test unenthusiastically, obviously bummed by how the situation turned out. To think not scoring a perfect 100 would bother you so much that you’d make him study with you until you were ready to retake the test.

“Come on, the faster we do this, the faster I can learn what I got wrong.”

“(Y/n), you don’t need to retake the test. You have the highest score of your class, professor Ahn said so.”

“Yeah but what if someone retakes it and does better than me?”

Mark sighed, knowing how stubborn you were when it came to your grades, but he didn’t like the competitive side of you that came with it. He admired your persistence, but watching you drive yourself crazy over something so miniscule was heartbreaking, like when your calculus 3 teacher refused to let you retake his quiz and you couldn’t do anything but cry for days because that was your hardest class and you knew you could do better. But how could he force you out of a habit that he admittedly fell in love with? It was a complete contradiction.

“(Y/n),” you shifted your gaze from the notes and test in front of you to look at him.

“What are three cyanobacterial species?” Your eyes wandered from him, so many words crossed your mind, trying to find the right answers to the sudden question.

“Nostoc commune, nostoc punctiforme, and nodularia spumigena… I think.” You said slowly, watching Mark pull the packet open and flip to the third page, showing you the exact question he asked, an ‘X’ right next to your answer.

“The reason you didn’t get a perfect score is because you missed this one question. You didn’t get it right because you’re always freaking out. But now that you know the answer, and know that you always panic at the idea of not doing well; do you think it’s wise to retake the test and aim for a 100, only to possibly freak out again and end up with the same score or worse?”

You wanted to argue with his logic but it was reasonable, and he was right. You were freaking out for nothing and were honestly surprised you hadn’t dropped dead from all the stress you had, wanting to laugh at how ridiculous you’d been. Mark noticed you staring off into space, probably still scolding yourself like you always do. He didn’t mean to kill your confidence, but what else could he do to make you snap out of your “no mistakes allowed” tunnel vision?

“Baby,” He called, your eyes finding him once more, noticing his arms open and waiting for you to settle into his lap, which you did without hesitation, his hands cupping your face so you couldn’t look away.

“I know you’re smart, and that you could get a perfect score if you tried harder, but you can’t always push yourself like this. It’s okay to not be the best and, sometimes, you’ll learn there are people out there that are the best of the best and you can’t compare.” He said, your lips curling upwards as you released a giggle.

“That was such a backhand compliment.” His laughter mixed with your own, hands easing from your face into your hair.

“Yeah, I could’ve worded that better, but you need to relax. Stressing yourself out won’t make you perfect. Okay?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling a little disparaged but knowing he meant well, truly worried for you and rightfully so. You were a hard ass, you knew that and just couldn’t help it. Maybe that’s why you loved Mark, he was responsible yet relaxed. He had it all figured out and, even when he didn’t, he was nonchalant until he did. It was one of the traits you wish you could take from him and have for yourself.

“Okay, then show me what I should do to relax.” You said, a smirk similar to the one you gave earlier on your lips, his finger darting out to poke you in the center of your forehead, a stern look on his face.

“I should just leave and make you take a nap for tricking me into studying with you. But I have manners, so get on the bed.”

You eagerly climbed out of his lap and followed his orders, removing your top on your way there, not wanting to waste any more time. As you watched him approach you with his eyes taking you in hungrily, you couldn’t help but think of the position you were in.

He’d be busy for the next two days helping students from Professor Ahn’s four classes retake their test. Her other three classes held 60 or so students, a little over double the amount of your class, and the likelihood of everyone from the other classes failing was damn near impossible, but her course was hard so it’s a good possibility almost half the class would want a retake, and thinking of potential students from your own class doing the same, that’d mean Mark and Professor Ahn would have roughly 110 test to grade by the end of the two days. Even if they split the grading load in half, Mark would be busy days later helping her while simultaneously maintaining his own grades, meaning the two day period you thought nothing of would really be four to five days of barely being together, so you were going to bask in this moment.

“(Y/n/n),” Mark called, gaining your attention.

Your eyes darted towards him and noticed he was between your legs, face close to your heat that was now exposed as he tossed your panties away not too long ago, your skirt bunched around your waist as he patiently waited for you to answer, hoping you weren’t uncomfortable and suddenly having second thoughts.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just realized it’ll be a few days before we can be like this again.” You admitted, unconsciously placing your hand in his hair and stroking it softly. It was still pretty soft despite bleaching and dying it so many times.

“Think about it this way,” He started, placing a small kiss to your inner thigh, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you tried to resist the urge to close them, his lips ticking your skin as he continued moving closer to your core.

“Everything I do today is a precursor for the next time I come over.”

You wanted to make a snide remark to keep your banter going, but the way his lips finally connected with your folds made your head spin, any thoughts you had were gone as the foreign yet very familiar and dearly missed pleasure hit you. You can’t remember the last time Mark went down on you, your schedules leaving the both of you available for only quickies in unoccupied classrooms just to make it to your next class on time. But taking the time to go slow and actually savor the pleasure was making the experience a million times better, any memory you had of his tongue being buried within you was replaced with this moment, his tongue taking it’s time to taste you as if you were the best meal in the world.

“Mark,” You breathed out, his head moving back just slightly so his tongue was visible, your eyes locked on the way he teasingly flicked it around your opening while staring straight at you, expertly dragging the pink muscle up to your clit before covering it completely with his lips sucking harshly so that you cried out.

He knew exactly what he was doing and what buttons to push, taking two fingers and rubbing them along your slit to lubricate them before easily sliding them inside, your body nearly jumping away at the feeling. He felt you contract around him, surprised that you might already be so close considering he just started, but that only encouraged him more, his mind running with the thoughts of exactly how long he could make this last and how cute you’d be once you were completely spent from him actions.

You were gripping onto Mark’s hair desperately as your other hand held onto your pillow for dear life, your back arching at the familiar motions of his fingers, simultaneously thrusting into you while drumming against your g-spot, sending small waves of gratification through you. Those little jolts were enough to distract you from Mark moving up your body, kissing from your belly button to your bra cladded breast, his free hand slipping beneath it easily to toy with your nipples, already so hard despite the fact he had only begun stimulating them.

You struggled to crack your eyes open, looking at the man above you as a breathy whine interrupted your seemingly endless moans. His eyes were concentrating on each contorted muscle of your face before finding your eyes, smiling softly at you as if he wasn’t pinching and rubbing at your breast while using his fingers to scissor your pussy. Any words you wanted to say came out almost like squeaks, your hands speaking for you as they moved to his chest, slowly trailing down until they reached the slowly growing, but clearly there, bulge in his black jeans.

He watched in amusement as you impatiently undid his pants, tapping his thumb on your clit to watch you freeze momentarily in an attempt to regain your composure. He was like a sadist but the humane kind. Mark couldn’t help the groan he let out once your hand slipped into his boxers, wasting no time stroking his member at the same pace his fingers moved into you, his eyes squeezing shut as his face dipped into your neck, teeth sinking into your shoulder to control himself from going any further. The juices you let out were making such lewd sounds, and the harder his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves just above your entrance, the more your hips rolled into his hands and your walls tightened around him, actual words finally leaving you as you let out a soft ‘please’. It was all becoming too much for him, but he didn’t want to give in just yet.

“Mark,” You called out to him again, his head finally lifting to look at your face. Even though your eyes could barely stay open, your lips trembling as you whimpered pathetically and your breathing labored, you looked amazing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently, slowly bringing his fingers to a stop to allow you to speak, the bubble of pleasure you felt fading away.

“I want more. Please.” You continued to pump his cock from inside his briefs, the urge to fuck himself into your hand hard to ignore as your thumb played with the beads of precum leaking from his tip, your hand working faster knowing he was so close to giving you what you wanted.

Instead, he reached between your bodies to grab your wrist, reluctantly pulling it away from his throbbing and needy member and bringing it up to examine it, precum visibly sticking to your thumb and palm.

“I’ll give you everything you want, but you have to be patient.” He warned you, reaching for the hand resting on his chest to bring them above your head, holding them in place so that he could get back to his main objective.

You wanted to scream as he began to move his fingers again, not starting off slow like he usually would but going knuckles deep, his thumb now finding a good pace on your clit as well. It was clear he was trying to get you off first. It wasn’t uncommon for him to let you get your release before him, but this felt different, weird even. He was rough but precise, your g-spot being hit no matter how deep and fast his appendages plunged into you. And the pressure on your clit wasn’t helping either, only making the strange feeling increase.

Your back arched as you moaned loudly, unsure if your roommate was even home but you couldn’t care less about that now, your legs kicking against the bed as if you wanted to escape the way his hand was fucking you but so curious where this feeling was leading and just how good it’d feel. Mark’s cock twitched at the sight of you, every time your hips lifted from the bed he’d see a wet spot forming from the juices dripping from your cunt and his hand, making it obvious that you came already but he wanted to see you orgasm, knowing you were close as you incoherently cried out, begging for him as your thighs clenched together in an attempt to slow him down even though you didn’t want him to stop.

“Look at me.” He said in a soft voice yet stern enough to remind you it was a demand.

You shyly faced him, vision hazy as you focused on his features. You felt his hand leave your wrist before creeping down to comb through your hair, easing to the back of your head and pulling you into him, bringing your lips to his to capture every sound you made. If it wasn’t the way his hand continued to assault your core as it convulsed violently, or the way his teeth nipped at your bottom lip in the middle of your heated make out session, or even the way he pulled away to speak filthy words to you to encourage your release, the thin line of self-control and submission you were walking was gone, your body falling fast and hard into the latter.

Mark’s fingers dug into your scalp to hold you in place, a few moans escaping his throat as you clenched around his digits, pleasured cries falling into his mouth as you no longer focused on your kiss. Your lower half jerked almost painfully, his fingers slowly moving into you to draw out your release, his face pulling away as he felt a bead of your orgasm rolling down his fingers and palm and onto his wrist, the once small wet spot now a puddle beneath your body, your fluids leaving the room and sheets a distinctly sweet smell.

You shut your eyes in relief as Mark finally pulled his hand away, trying to catch your breath as he moved from the bed. You could feel the stickiness on you, your thighs closing to keep the cool air from hitting your sensitive core, the sound of your skin pulling from the sheets making you cringe. No wonder it felt so weird, you squirted for the first time ever and, now, your mattress was ruined. You were contemplating if you should just rest now in your own filthy release or properly clean everything, not having time to form an answer as Mark climbed above you, instantly connecting his lips to the shell of your ear and your neck. You turned to look at him, noticing his pants and boxers were off, his rock hard dick on display between your bodies.

“W-wait, I don’t think I can do that again.” You admitted, your face hot at the thought of being overstimulated, Mark’s gaze meeting yours. His eyes were so dark and clouded, your core unwillingly pulsating again with arousal despite your words.

“If you need me to stop, I’ll stop. I did promise to give you whatever you want earlier.”

The room fell silent as he waited for your answer, your eyes looking away in embarrassment as you opened your legs for him, cursing yourself for being so needy despite what happened only a few seconds ago. Mark smirked and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, easing his body forward until he was poking at your entrance, preparing to thrust into you but not before he spoke in a definite tone.

“I’m going to make sure you’re too tired to think about the retest and, if I even see you going to take it, we’ll do this all over again.”

And it was a promise. You knew Mark never bluffed, especially when it came to sexual rewards and punishments, so you could do nothing but take those words to heart. Although the next day, after dragging your sore body from the soaked bed you both were too exhausted to flip, and getting ready as normal, you crept your way towards Professor Ahn’s class.

It was her second free period of the day and currently Mark’s accounting class, meaning there would be fewer students there for the retest and he would be out of sight and out of mind. You slowly crept into her classroom, looking to the twelve or so students working silently, Professor Ahn nowhere to be found.

You knew she’d never leave a class unsupervised during a test, so she was most likely watching from her office to see who would or wouldn’t cheat. She was clever that way so it only made sense.

You eagerly headed to the door, knocking gently before hearing an uninterested ‘enter’.

“Sorry for disturbing you Professor Ahn, but I was hoping I could do the retest to-“ You froze.

Professor Ahn and Mark’s eyes left the test and answer sheets around them to stare at you. During her first free period, over sixty students came, leaving your professor overwhelmed at how much grading she’d have to do if she waited until the last minute, her first instinct was to call her TA in for help which he easily accepted, knowing that missing one class wouldn’t hurt him. So the two sat in the once comfortable silence, grading roughly thirty test each. You thought you had it all figured out but didn’t plan for a random setback like this, and neither did Mark, his eyes boring into yours despite you trying to avoid his gaze.

“You were planning to do the retest, (Y/n)?” Professor Ahn spoke up, dropping her red pen and searching for a clean copy of the test from the folder next to her, your eyes widening as you frantically shook your head.

“No! No, it was nothing. I’m sorry for stopping by like this.” You said, preparing to leave but the call of your name from an eerily calm source made you stop, an inaudible whimper leaving you as you turned back to your boyfriend, a seemingly sweet but truly sinister smile on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

You were fucked, pun intended.

#Mark tuan imagines #mark tuan smut #mark tuan fluff #mark taun scenarios #mark tuan reactions #got7 imagines #got7 smut #got7 fluff #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #im-whatchamccallit #got7 au #mark tuan au #mark tuan fanfic #got7 fanfic

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 3 years

Note

YESS!!!!!!!! WAY TO GO YOU PURPLE GREMLEN, YOU TOUGHT THAT JERK WHOS THE REAL BOSS HERE!

YES! YES! YESYESYESYES!!!

We did! W-We won! We beat the Four Horsemen!

W-We won...?

WE WON!

Oh thank whatever god is listening!

Yes! Way to go!

YES! Kokichi you madman, you actually did it!

Don’t give me so much credit. I might’ve won this battle, but we all won this war as a team!

How...How can this happen?

Ugh! God, I’m so pissed at him for some reason, even though he won!

He definitely toyed with us...but then again, it’s what Kokichi’s good at.

He had to retain the poker face somehow.

Congratulations, Mr Ouma!

Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable.

Huh?

*Asayoru’s face contains a blank glare, when suddenly...

I cannot lose...

THIS CANNOT HAPPEN!

Asayoru!?

I-I CAN’T LOSE! NOT UNTIL I CRUSH THE ROVINAIRE!

Sore loser much?

*Asayoru suddenly grabs his empty bottel.

KOKCIHI OUMAAAAA! YOU’RE DEEAAAAAAD!!!

MR OUMA!

L-LOOK OUT!

AH!

*WHAM!*

BLEARGH!

*Asayoru rushes at Kokichi with his empty bottle as all of the patrons run out of the store for safety. Mid dash however, Kuripa jumps in the way and nails Asayoru so hard in the stomach, he vomits his drink back up. The ex-manager of the Four Horsemen collapses onto the floor, clutching his stomach.

*cough!* *cough*! Eurgh...

If you wanna start a fight...then by all means take it up with me. I don’t think you’ll like your chances though.

Ngh...Geh...I’ll...I’ll kill YOU...! You’re all gonna DIIIEE...

E-Egh...

...

*Asayoru clambers to his feet, but doesn’t act. He just stares at the group and realizes just how hopelessly outnumbered he is.

I...I can’t lose...

Are you seriously crying?

I’d cry too if I lost everything. Then again, can’t say I’m sympathetic.

Asayoru...for what it’s worth, you definitely put up a good fight. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who lies and cheats quite like I do.

I don’t need your fucking condolences and backhanded compliments! I-I’ve...been defeated...I lost...

Winning this was everything for me...You have no idea how little I have left...How much I’ve suffered to get to this point...!

Actually we do...we know the truth about your mother...

Y-You do? How...?

I’m a detective Mr Asayoru. I looked into you and your past. But no matter what happened with you, the High Roller, and your mother, taking that anger out on Kokichi is wrong.

...

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softly-savage-mint-yoongi · 4 years

Photo

Allotrope

Genre: Idolverse Pairing: Kim Junmyeon (Suho) x reader Warnings: one night stand smut? It gets angsty and fluffy and more smutty as the plot continues. Chapter 1 Words: 9k.

The first time you met him, you knew who he was.

Or rather, you thought you knew.

You knew him as a leader of a group of younger brothers. A teller of Dad Jokes and generous giver to his members. A man who knew just how devastatingly handsome he was but somehow, didn’t let it go to his head.

You knew him only as Suho, not Kim Junmyeon. He told you as much during your first conversation.

You tried to prove him wrong. He wanted to hope you were right.

A typical Friday night. Where most might consider the hour ‘late’, you thrived. Nearly eleven thirty as your feet worked quickly and gracefully, weaving between other staff members. Friday nights had a love hate relationship with you.

You loved them because it was the easiest night to make bank, with the wealthy coming out of the woodwork to perch themselves daintily at the best restaurants in the city. You made good money working here any night, but you could easily walk away with a few hundred more on Fridays. Especially during the holidays.

You hated them because with the wealthy came the pompous, and you hated their attitudes. Too entitled to care how busy you are with your life and assuming that just because you work in a restaurant, you’re never going to amount to anything. The degree you’re so busy finishing when you’re not waiting tables will mean nothing.

If they weren’t pompous, they were egotistical. Men and women, all too giving with attention and cheesy, whispered promises of a good time that made you swallow bile and cringe. They paid well, but the money always felt gross.

As a veteran, having worked this gig the entire duration of your college career thus far, the celebrities didn’t phase you anymore. You were not here for them.

The giddy excitement of greenhorn servers working high profile tables is what set them sinking before they knew it. It went to their head. Not for you. It was dull enough that you simply did the job. That isn’t to say you didn’t generally enjoy the atmosphere when you served someone famous that was a decent human being. Sometimes they would tell you how much they enjoyed you treating them like they weren’t famous, too.

They appreciated how real you were, and you appreciated that they said so. You always tried to see that there is more to people than what they showed on the surface.

Why tonight was any different wasn’t something you had been expecting. When your manager came to you about a group of idols coming to dine in thirty minutes, nothing was nothing new. It wasn’t unusual for larger groups to ask for a private space, which your restaurant could certainly accommodate.

The time of their arrival was just the same as every other. You had hosted and served many groups over the years, but couldn’t ever really recall serving EXO. Perhaps, if they had dined here at all, it was while you were away.

With a fellow veteran and your closest friend, you greeted them. Easily, they appeared tired but happy, wearing comfortable oversized sweatshirts and athletic pants. Various hats or none at all adorned their heads, and their masks were removed once they finally settled into their seats.

Their manager sounded kind, apologizing in advance for any trouble the rowdy men may cause prior to taking his seat at the staff table in the room. You assured it was no trouble at all and got to work.

As someone heavily influenced by music, you knew who they were. You might even say you were a fan, but not die hard. Being a die hard fan lost its glimmer when you’ve been disappointed often enough in how little humanity is left in too high a percentage of people with just as much money and power as them.

So why did this feel different? Not unpleasant, but a persistent buzz in the back of your head making you pay more attention to them. Their leader, stage named Suho, was lounging at one corner of the table, fingers tapping lazily at his temple while he watched his younger brothers taking jibes at one another with a smile so fond it made you look twice.

He didn’t seem to notice and you carried on, bringing their copious drinks and appetizers. The largest one, Chanyeol alone seemed to devour an entire plate of wings before asking you politely for another with stars in his eyes.

When their meals arrived, Junmyeon looked up to your face with a phrase of polite thanks on his tongue, but it seemed to die as his brows rose and then his forehead creased.

You caught the way Sehun snickered beside him. Something funny you weren’t attuned to. Fearing embarrassment, you ignored them, briskly completing the delivery of their meals.

Taking Soohyun, your partner, by the arm, you turned away.

“Is there something on my face? In my teeth?”

He frowned, brow furrowing deeply as he leaned around to look at your face more critically, inspecting further when you showed him your pearly whites.

“No.”

“Oh.” The air was pregnant with words you didn’t say.

He laughed a bit at your response, “Why are you frowning suddenly?”

You huffed, tapping the end of your pen against your lips, “Just confused. Junmyeon acted like there was something on my face when I set his food down. Sehun laughed, too.”

“Y/N.” he said sternly.

You didn’t bother to look at him, instead losing yourself in your thoughts and absentmindedly checking your watch.

“Hey.” he said again, gently shoving his elbow into your arm and laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Don’t hit me, okay?”

Rolling your eyes, you placed you hands on your hips and raised a brow at him.

He sighed in defeat, “I don’t think he expected someone so pretty.”

The sound of your garbled revolt at his pure and utter bullshit was loud enough to make one or two pairs of smokey eyes flick toward you curiously. The two more observant of the group, Minseok and Kyungsoo, turned their eyes back to their meals after briefly meeting yours to confirm nothing was wrong.

“I’m serious, Y/N! You’re very pretty, almost too pretty.” Soohyun said.

He deserved the playful punch to his ribs, “Thanks for the backhanded compliment.”

The older man only continued laughing. Having your answer that it was in fact, not you, approaching the table again was normal.

You took a second Soju order for Chanyeol and Baekhyun, but a cool finger stopped you before you could leave. Normally, you would feel upset that someone physically touched you without asking. Something about the gentle touch sent a shock up your arm. Something warm and light and peaceful and not gross at all.

“Um, excuse me.”

You whirled, finding the man who had lost his words earlier staring up at you kindly.

“What can I get for you Mr. Kim?” you asked politely, pen at the ready against your leather notepad. You put on your best air of nonchalance.

He paused briefly, “You know who I am?” he inquired.

You nodded, “You’re Kim Junmyeon.”

Simple, was the way you said it. As if that were the truth and the only truth that mattered to him. The stare he fixed you with was unusual, and you couldn’t place the intent of its depth.

He recovered, dropping the intensity and falling into his charm, “Don’t you mean to say Suho?”

You were not here to take the bait, but you took it anyway. Something in his smile told you he was genuinely interested in your answer.

“Well, Suho is part of who you are as a whole. As Junmyeon.”, you clarified with a pout.

He nodded, sweeping a hand through his hair. He challenged you, “I see, I see...”

Immediately you took that as a bad sign, “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

His eyes snapped back to yours and holding the warmth of his stare was easier than looking even your parents in the eyes.

“Not at all, but I’m afraid you only know Suho. Not Junmyeon.” His tone was teasing.

What were you supposed to say to that? It would be too easy to agree, but you didn’t do easy.

“Everyone can have their own opinions. Agree to disagree.”

He laughed. Genuinely, he barked out and it touched his eyes. Enough that Sehun turned away from his food to watch.

“Fair enough. I’m sorry I’ve kept you from work. I’ll let you get back to it.”

“My work is to serve you right now, so I think you’re fine.” you assured with an honest smile of your own. Nothing about his presence or demeanor set your alarms off. You had never experienced someone with this much influence that didn’t give you alarms of ulterior motives.

With that, you parted to take care of the drink orders several of his members had placed.

The next hour continued on this way. Taking care of their tables with Soohyun by bringing drinks and Chanyeol’s endless love and appetite for chicken. The louder boys, the Beagle line, were all several drinks in and entertaining the table.

It might be a white lie to say their antics were not also entertaining to you whenever you were present, but the way Junmyeon kept catching your eyes with his own was quickly taking over your down time at their table.

Now, you liked to think yourself someone who enjoys others company. You’re a consenting adult and have had your fair share of experiences, both good and bad, both relationships and one night stands because you understand that your life is incredibly busy and you deserve to have some fun.

However, you had never considered even entertaining the idea of sleeping with someone you met on the job. You had never met someone who’s advances were not ultimately unappealing or downright creepy while being here. It was quite strange, how natural it felt. How obvious it was that he seemed to be struggling to put this gravitational pull into proper thought as well.

There was something trusting and warm about the way he watched you. Almost protective, like the guardian angel his name was true to. The way he appreciated your presence was tender and not exactly unwelcome. Perhaps a bit unexpected, but you didn’t mind it. He would go on his way once he and his members were finished dining anyway and then you might never cross paths again.

You were aware Junmyeon was extremely smart. Smart enough to realize it was going on one thirty and the restaurant patrons were dying off. Smart enough to let you catch his subtle tells. Tells such as you watching him chewing his lip while he looked up what time your establishment closed with his phone on the table.

Tells such as the way he seemed to lean toward you or ask you specifically if he needed something but respecting you enough not to touch. Anything to engage you specifically in conversation. Tells such as the way his eyes seemed to bore into you from across the room, or the way he visibly bristled when Jongdae a little too obviously checked you out from across the table while you took an order for cake from Yixing.

You noted he hadn’t had a drop of liquor the entire night. Opting for water through the meal and hot tea toward the end. Happily shocked, you smiled delightfully when he snuck out his black card and handed it to you, asking if you would please put their bill on it.

When his members whooped and hollered with thanks to him, he took it well. He didn’t do it for show. He did it to treat his brothers as an act of love.

You returned his card with the leather fold for him to sign, smiling. “That was kind of you.”

His charming, joking smile appeared again, quirking a brow at you and letting his fingers intentionally touch yours during the pass of the leather booklet.

“Kind of who?” he asked with a raised brow, the index finger of his free hand rubbing across his bottom lip.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you answered, “I suppose of Suho. I thought you said I didn’t know Junmyeon.”

He smirked at you, nodding in acquiesce.

Parting from him, you began to clear the remaining dishes. The group began getting up, stretching and putting on coats with whines of content fullness and protest at having to move. Proclamations of how tired they were, drooping eyes and full stomachs. A few with their arms draped around one another in camaraderie as they began to file out.

Just as you returned from the kitchen to collect more dishes, they began to say their thanks and goodbyes, following some of their staff out of the room. You bowed to each and every one of them with thanks and the normal phrases to kindly please return.

Sehun and Suho were the last of the line, with Sehun not having said a word more than he had to. Junmyeon on the other hand, with half of a smirk tucked into his cheek, thanked you directly as he left. His eyes, that rich deep brown, bore into yours with something that made you blush. Something that insinuated it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

Soohyun collected the check from their table and told you that he would see off the remaining table of their staff while you cleared a bus bin of dishes.

The moment you turned the corner, Soohyun came rushing into the kitchen nearly on your heels.

“Uh, I think this was meant for you.” he coughed, clearing his throat and holding the receipt toward you.

Written on the back were six simple words that sent you into a fit. You noted how pretty his handwriting was.

‘Would you like to find out?’

You flubbered for words, opening your mouth several times but nothing came out. Heat poured from every orifice on your face and you looked at Soohyun with wild eyes.

“He-”

Soohyun laughed, thick arms folded across his thicker chest, “I know.”

“And I-”

“Deserve to have some fun.” he finished for you, leaning his torso forward and locking eyes with you.

The face he was making at you was nothing but sincere and absolutely serious. You were frozen.

“Their manager is waiting for your answer. Go ahead if you want, I can finish up.”

You sat for a moment, thinking. You were still unnerved a bit, distracted by the way you’ve been rendered so completely shaken by the feel of Junmyeon’s stare. As if he were still staring into you. Underneath the feeling of being shaken, most noticeably was the lukewarm feeling you shouldn’t do this because it gets tricky with famous anyones.

Below even that layer, burning like magma beneath the Earth’s surface, was the pure want for him. You were at a loss, trying to remember when the last time was you desired someone so greatly. How badly and how long it has been since you’ve given in to your basic needs.

“Should I?” you ask Soohyun, and his reaction tells you he wasn’t expecting you to hesitate.

He smiled again, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder, “I think you should do whatever you want to and not regret it.”

You glared at him, “That’s not helpful, and shouldn’t you be more protective of me? You’re practically my big brother! Shouldn’t you be upset and telling me he’s a creep?”

At your admission, Soohyun laughed. He often laughed at things. “While most of the time that’s how I feel, I think we both know this time was different. I’ve never seen you so comfortable and electric with someone like that, famous or not.”

The weight in your gut lifted. He was right. Soohyun was typically your go-to friend when you wanted to go out and get drunk and maybe take someone home. He was there to have his own good time, but he always watched your back and got you out of uncomfortable situations.

“Just be safe, and text me when you get home.” he clarified with serious eyes.

“Thank you for this.” you whispered to him before turning to walk back into the private dining room.

True to what Soohyun said, their manager was loitering awkwardly by the door, his attention snapped to you the moment you whirled back around the corner and into view.

“So, how does this work?” you asked, rubbing your arm and looking away. The sound of your own voice made you cringe.

The manager chuckled lightly, “Well, I don’t really know. None of them do this kind of thing very much, if ever.”

You balched at him, “Really?”

He smiled at you, nodding, “Really.”

“Okay, so...” you trailed off, almost more apprehensive. Was he just saying that or was that really the case?

“I think the best way, is to give you my cell number. We go our own ways, assuming you’re leaving work now. When you’re ready, come to this hotel,” he handed you a card before continuing, “and when you get there, text me and take the main elevator to the seventeenth floor.”

“Oh.” you voiced, “That sounds reasonable enough.”

The manager smiled again, “I think it goes without saying that you have to keep this to yourself and anything that happens involving Suho, correct? Lest there be legal matters.” You could tell he didn’t mean it maliciously, but he has to say it to protect his idols. He seemed like a good man with only EXO’s best interests in mind.

“Absolutely.”

“Great. I’ll take my leave then.” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and smiling at you kindly, “Thank you again for taking care of them here. I know they can be chaotic.”

“Oh, I don’t think they were at all!” you chimed pleasantly.

The manager’s face flashed with something sly he wanted to say but instead he chewed the inside of his cheek and said nothing when he left.

_______________________________

Just a little over an hour later, you were nervous as ever when you heard the elevator ping loudly, opening it’s smooth metal doors to the seventeenth floor. The hall was fairly quiet, sans for the ice machine humming in the vending machine niche a few paces down.

A door opened somewhere down the long hallway and you recognized the familiar figure of a middle aged man walking calmly toward you. He had since changed into something more comfortable, wearing a hoodie, sweat pants and socks.

You felt awkward as you stood there in your leggings and oversized sweater and the discreet overnight bag strap suddenly felt like it was digging unbearably into your shoulder.

Your hair was still half wet from your shower, dangling loosely around your shoulders, and you shifted from foot to foot, deciding at the last moment to move toward him. Your were tremoring with every step. Luckily, you could blame it on the cold. “Good evening, miss Y/N.” he said quietly.

“Good evening.” you returned with a small bow.

Further down the hallway a door opened and pretty, boyish laughter you remember hearing a lot at their dinner table rang out before it was promptly slammed shut again.

The manager sighed, closing his eyes momentarily and you stifled a small giggle, the easiest way for you to release some nervous energy. Your trembling fingers remained hidden beneath the paws of your sweater.

“You seem nervous.” he said flatly once the noise ceased, his hands stuffed into the front hoodie pocket.

You smiled, but didn’t try to lie, “I don’t do this much either. It’s always a nervous experience.”

“It’s not because he is a celebrity?” he asked, voice laced with curiosity. He squinted at you, adjusting his glasses, as if your answer would be his judgement of your person.

Lying never got you anywhere. You did your best to always be honest, “With all due respect, I see famous, rich people whenever I work. He isn’t any different in that regard. But most of those people...” you trailed off and looked to the floor as if the words you couldn’t find might have been written there.

“I’ve learned to be a pretty scary judge of character. Junmyeon didn’t give me any of the alarms I usually get from people who possess the same power he does.”

The manager nodded, his lower lip protruding slightly at your remarks.

“I think you’re in pretty good hands then. His room is this way.” You must have been given his seal of approval.

He turned, leading you back down the corridor with the dimmed hallway lights to room number one seven two three.

Before he knocked for you, he cleared his throat, “So if you need anything I’m right there.” twisting to point to a door two rooms down and across the hall.

“Have fun, okay? He’s a good guy.” came his whispered goodbye, swiftly knocking on the door with two firm raps before turning to make his way back to his own room.

You watched him go, and just as the manager’s door closed, the one in front of you opened.

A waft of warm steam gently passed you, catching your attention to see the bathroom was just inside the room, wide open with the light on. Standing right in front of you was Junmyeon.

His hair was wet but combed back and to the side, and he was shirtless. That was all you could assess before he was quickly but smoothly dragging you inside so he could close the door, away from prying eyes.

“Sorry.” you muttered, eyes glued to the floor. You liked to think you could work through your nerves pretty well but the warmth that spread up your arm from where he had your wrist was making it difficult not to lock up.

He smiled prettily, “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t need to be sorry for anything, okay?”

Slowly, your eyes climbed back up from the floor, starting from the tiny dark spot on the carpet where his hair had just dripped.

You noted, much to your liking, that he wasn’t wearing anything more than an untied pair of fitted sweats. There was a towel around his shoulders. Making eye contact again must have assured him in some way that you weren’t going to run.

He moved away, “Make yourself comfortable, I’m just finishing up.” The towel became a frenzy at the back of his head while he scrunched it over and over, trying to soak up the moisture.

Removing your shoes while you observed him going back to the bathroom, it dawned on you. The back of his neck and his ears were red. You weren’t the only one who was nervous.

It made you laugh, in a burst a bit too loud, considering the buzz of the music he was playing was far too quiet to elicit such a reaction.

The light in the bathroom flicked off just as he emerged, a boyish grin tucked into his cheek, “What’s so funny?”

You let yourself sit on the bed, rubbing your face with both hands, “Nothing.”

He wasn’t having it, laughing gently along with your smile, “Oh come on, I feel like I’m missing out.”

Junmyeon was stepping closer now, standing and looking down at you with a soft smile that put a crease in his eyes.

“It’s just... it feels ridiculous to be nervous about this. I was taught that laughter is best for combating nerves.”

“Hm,” Junmyeon hummed, “Whoever told you that must be very wise.”

A tiny pang of sadness flickered across your face before it disappeared, “He was.”

Junmyeon caught on immediately, his smile fading to watch you intently, stepping closer still.

“Who?”

You smiled up at him, “My Dad.”

You had to admit, part of Junmyeon’s charm was how attentive he was to others empathetically. Instead of being unnerved about it, you felt as if his ability to see into you was a source of warmth and comfort. He never looked away from your face.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his fingers hesitantly reaching to tap against the top of your thighs softly.

Your smile broadened, “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

There was a pause where you watched his fingers quietly, tapping innocently against the tops of your legs to the beat of the music.

“Y/N.” he called you, and it was beautiful hearing him say it so pleasantly.

“There are a few things I want you to understand, but it is best that I tell you directly instead of it coming to you through my manager.”

You froze up, immediately thinking something bad, “Okay.”

He looked down at you, leaving his fingers splayed against your leggings but no longer moving, “First, let me say I never do this kind of thing. I don’t have the time to get involved with it, let alone attend to my own needs. There’s a lot riding on my shoulders and it’s just really getting to me and I wasn’t really looking for anything like this but you just came out of nowhere and I-”

You put a finger up to his lips, “Junmyeon, stop. It’s okay, I get it. Me, too.” You were giggling again.

He sighed, taking your hand in his from his lips and holding it.

“That leads me to the next thing I wanted to say. You are in no way required to do anything. Just because I asked you to come here and we’re intending to r-release some... frustration, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he quipped, brows knitted together again.

His skin was painted in a pretty blush. Your eyes remained glued to him, fascinated in watching it slowly creep down his neck. It pained you to look away from his abs when you replied.

“I appreciate that. I suppose what I’d like to say is we’re both adults and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. I’ll admit I don’t do this often either, between work and class I don’t have the time to pay attention to my own needs.”

Your smile was wistful as you spoke, and Junmyeon with his thumb, caressed the back of your hand he was still holding.

“I think it’s pretty obvious there is mutual attraction. We’re just acting on it.” he murmured against your palm. You swallowed thickly, nodding.

Something heavy festered between you as the last of the words faded away with finality. Subtly, the hand remaining on your thigh tightened it’s grip, your knees touching against his legs.

Junmyeon looked at you with that penetrating stare again, but your light melted his gaze into a different kind of intense. You stood your ground by focusing on how nice you thought he smelled, fresh from his shower.

“So what is there for us to be nervous about?” he whispered, taking the advantage you gave him to step closer by inching your legs apart for him.

His face was close and you could smell his mouth wash. You realized he was waiting for an answer.

You tilted your head toward him, your lips barely breathing the word ‘nothing’ before he was on you.

He placed your hand against his chest and it felt as if you were touching the Sun. His skin was scorching beneath your fingers, the delicate blush still blooming across him like a rosy sunset.

His mouth felt warm, balmy. Wonderful yet cautious. He was taking his time, just sampling your lips slowly, gently, perhaps waiting for you to stop him. Inwardly you might cringe at how awkward this was. As if it were a first kiss with a crush playing seven minutes in heaven during a high school party. Except... it didn’t feel like that at all. You were both experienced, only new with one another.

A new song came on his shuffle and you both smiled, nearly laughing into each other’s mouths when you recognized it as one of his own songs.

You took the opportunity to separate from him, hauling the strap of your bag over your shoulder. He politely took it from you and placed it on the chair near the foot of the bed before coming right back to you.

Not so hesitantly this time he stepped into you against the bed, pulling your thighs around him. Every touch seemed to quell the strength of this force between you. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, but you felt better touching him than not. There was no awkward placement of hands upon one another’s body like a virgin experience would be.

His kiss was passionate this time. Slower, but deeper, with his brow furrowed, he tried to find what you liked and you stumbled through finding a pace and a style that you both liked. Not too much teeth or tongues. He pulled your lip gently between his and the tiny sound of surprise from you fueled him further.

Making out, let alone kissing, was never perfect between a pair for the first time, and your head was swimming with how attentive he was to figure out how you liked to be kissed. What made you breathless. You hoped he could feel you were trying to do the same for him.

The tame swipe of your tongue against his lip created the opportunity to go further, tangling his tongue with yours in such a way that pulled a quiet moan from his chest. Now you were getting somewhere, just feeling and not thinking.

Junmyeon’s hands were urging you backwards, up the bed. He almost smacked your nose with his forehead trying to keep connected, kissing you while he climbed onto the plush linens after you.

He smiled, mumbling an apology while extending one well sculpted arm toward you, catching your leg and leaning over you. He sank down, dark eyes trained on you lips.

Your legs automatically separated to make room for him. He pulled the one in his grasp up to his hip while you let the other match it.

The feeling of his erection pressing into your center sent a soft moan from your lips. His own, plush and red from kisses activity dropping open and his forehead creasing.

“Junmyeon.” you whined. You hated to admit it, but kissing was always one of your favorite things. With any partner, if they were a good kisser, you were putty in their hands.

“Huh?” he cooed, trying his not to show you how much this affected him, too. You were just two people who had neglected your needs for far too long. Two people who were doing something about it. Two people who conveniently had a free schedule for the next six or more hours.

You said nothing in return, instead pulling him down to have his lips working against yours again. Taking note how he nearly purred with your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck, you tugged delicately.

It only seemed to fuel Junmyeon further, shuffling closer on his knees and adjusting the angle to roll his hips against you.

You moaned against his mouth, that felt too good. An explicit pleasure to you both, he did it a second time, moving his lips to your neck to stutter out a groan.

“Can I take this off, please?” he begged, fisting the huge sweater surrounding you. He seemed personally offended by it clearly wanting to be in the way instead of where he thought it belonged, on the floor.

Before he pulled it up, he checked with you, and it made your heart flutter at his kindness. He was making sure you both felt like equals in this space, even if sharing this kind of thing was temporary.

Junmyeon helped you to sit up, taking the hem of the pink sweater and pulling it over your head. He was too busy tossing it toward your bag to notice what you were up to. His eyes were wide but in awe when he turned back to you with one arm twisted behind your back.

Then suddenly you’re sliding the black fabric down your arms and tossing it away, only to throw yourself back down against the soft bed. Junmyeon was lost, with his eyes hooded and his tongue poking out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

“You’re so pretty.” he commented, letting one palm slide up from your hip over your stomach and further still, catching the underside of one breast and giving it a moderate squeeze.

You relished in the attention he gave them, leaning his head down to lick. You hissed through your teeth when he pulled back slightly to blow coolly against the wetness he left behind. The soothing relief of his molten mouth against it was immediate and he made you arch into his face further when he brought his other hand to your side and ran his fingers teasingly over your ribs.

He couldn't help the groan spilling from his lips when you put your hands in his hair again and ground your hips up into his. He switched his attention to your neglected nipple, biting before releasing it, smacking the flesh of your breast lightly, in awe as it bounced softly.

You hissed, “Ow, you bit too hard.” with a pout, which he promptly kissed away.

“I’m sorry.” Junmyeon whispered, a sheepish grin splitting his lips.

It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t unpleasant. With a hand gripping your hip tightly, the dark haired man rolled into you further, emitting a growl that only fueled him to grind harder against you by your soft moans.

Your fingernails scraped down his scalp and further, across the top of his back as far as you could reach.

“Fuck.” driped from his lips in a strained voice and you blushed, certain the word has never sounded so sexy to your ears.

He released your breast, too focused on the attention you were giving one another through your clothing. His brows were knitted together again, lips open prettily as he sat up to pull your hips flush against his crotch.

“I can feel how hot you are even through all these layers.” he purred, fingers tracing down your center but avoiding where you wanted him most.

All you did was whine in response, instead reaching out to dip your fingertips into the band of his sweats.

He moaned, “You want it?”

“I want you.” was your reply, biting your lip and running your fingers over his abs appreciatively. His stomach twitched beneath your butterfly fingers.

He grinned, cocking a brow, “Want who? Suho? Junmyeon?”

You grinned back at him, “Whichever one is going to let me take all his stress away.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he began, understanding painting his face, “I don’t think I’ll last enough for that right now, but I’d really like to taste you.” The moan that left you at his words alone whipped a wolfish smile onto his face.

He broke away to move off the bed briefly. Pulling a box of condoms from a convenience store bag, he set them on the night stand before curling a finger at you with a smile.

You were awash with lust as you watched him, unmoving until his voice, gravely with want, broke you from your reverie.

“C’mere.” he plead.

Finally, you obliged him, moving to lay at the side of the bed. Your hips rose easily to aid him in removing your leggings, your panties right along with them, and Junmyeon was moaning before your legs were even free of them.

He sunk to his knees, his warm palms gentle but firm in their parting of your thighs for him. You mildly protested, fighting him just a little because you could and you wanted to.

“Sweetheart... please. I can practically taste you from here, don’t tease me.” he asked, laying his cheek against your folded knees.

You laughed, loosening your muscles to let him have you. He took his time, and somehow, you found you were not surprised. Everything about him was gentle and sweet, even for a one night stand. He was not overly eager just to get himself off, and the thought sent heated butterflies through you unexpectedly. You couldn't imagine him being anything but wonderful to anyone he shared a bed with, no matter how long.

His lips were pressing chaste kisses against your inner thigh and you gasp when his fingers were suddenly there, slowly running through your folds. You whimpered, hearing him speak something softly but not sure of the words.

Junmyeon hummed happily at the feeling of your arousal so easily coating his fingers. He used two skillfully, parting you and running the flat of his tongue up to your clit.

Your body melted and a cry sprung from your chest. His assault was not slow, lapping at your nerves and living off of the sounds you were emitting, put on a platter for his delightful tongue to indulge upon.

He twisted his wrist, slowly sinking one finger into your heat and you absolutely keened. The coil in your abdomen tightening suddenly and you were panting out “Yes, please, more.” before you even thought about the words.

A dark chuckle reached your ears from between your legs and Junmyeon fingered you with just the right amount of curl to his fingertips. Somewhere in your pleasured bliss, the thought that he was in no way even moderately inexperienced floats in your mind. It wasn't your place to care, but you were glad that he knew what he was doing.

The sound of his mouth on you had you inching closer and closer to paradise already. He pulled his hand back and slowly concentrated on adding a second, pleased to find you were ready enough to take both easily.

“Such a good girl.” he praised, sucking your clit harshly.

You cursed, “Junmyeon...” You were hyper-aware that your face was on fire. Is it even possible to feel yourself blushing in your eyeballs?

You could feel him smile against your core, his hair mussed from your fingers. He hummed in response, increasing his pace just to hear you whine loudly.

“So close, Junmyeon...” you huffed, your thighs on either side of his head beginning to tremble. You felt impossibly tight, abdomen curling in on itself with your fist in the linens at your side.

The handsome man between your legs never stopped, only pausing to praise you further when he feels your walls beginning to tighten around his fingers, “That’s it. Come on, sweetheart.”

It was all it took when he stood up and braced one arm on the bed to lean over you. His thumb replaced his tongue on your clit and the awed expression on his face put you over the edge.

Your voice was a mixture of a cry and a moan, teeth clenched and thighs quaking. Your hand reached out, clasping around his forearm and holding on while his fingers worked you through your orgasm.

“Fuck you’re so fucking pretty when you come.” he growled, kissing the side of your neck and nipping at the flesh.

Once you relaxed, he pulled his fingers from you and watched his own hand with rapt fascination until you broke him from his thoughts.

“Junmyeon...” you cooed, a happy smile on your lips. “Want you,” you clarified when he looked up at you.

“Good girls get what they want. How can I deny you when you say my name like that?” he said, cocking one eyebrow at you and yanking his own pants to the ground.

You had seen your fair share of nicely shaped men with nicely shaped appendages, but nothing quite as nice as Kim Junmyeon. The abs were free for all to see, but his thighs and what was standing at attention between them was another experience entirely.

Not the biggest out there, but for his stature you would definitely call him well endowed, which was more than enough for you. He was flushed there, too, his member a darker shade than the rest of his golden skin. Neatly trimmed hair framed the base.

He reached immediately for the box on the nightstand, tearing one packet off the line of them. “Sorry they’re not fun ones. I wasn’t sure if you were allergic so I played it safe.” he said, focusing on rolling it over himself in one motion.

You didn't mean to laugh but why were you absolutely not surprised that he was the caring type. The type to, while thinking about fucking a stranger for a one night stand, took into consideration a potential allergy while making a condom selection.

“I’m not, but thanks for checking. You’re too sweet.” you said, still a little high from your orgasm.

“I can’t help it. I take care of eight brothers for a living...and I sing once in a while.” his answering smile was sheepish.

You tucked away his statement for later discussion. You knew he was so much more than that, but it would ruin the moment and you admitted to yourself you really just wanted to get lost in pleasure with him.

So instead, you assured him, “I don’t need you to take care of me right now. I need you to fuck me.”

Junmyeon was stunned, one hand holding your hip and the other his cock. His eyes were hooded and they closed as he let out a deep breath, swallowing hard. You had an inkling your words affected him in the best possible way.

“I think I can do that.” he said just as you felt the head of him rub against your wetness, lubricating himself further before pushing in without any further words.

You groaned loudly, a pleasured hiss filling the space between you. “Fuck.”

He was still, biting his lip with his eyes half closed, trained on you. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths while he fought to remain still.

“I’m okay.” you told him, rotating your hips against him with your lips dropped open.

Your eyes zeroed in on his face, tongue poking out to run across his pretty lips before he slowly withdrew himself from you, only to slide in again.

He repeated the motion, grabbing your leg and hoisting it up, over his shoulder. His arm wrapped around it to keep you against him tightly, and he turned his head just enough to kiss your calf where it rested beside his head.

Junmyeon leaned heavily into you while he thrust, slowly testing which angle is best to bend you for your mutual pleasure. How far could he bend you so you would feel him as deeply as possible.

When he hit the right one, you cried out, pleasure soaking your features. He groaned above you, sinking his cock into your greedy heat with a force that you absolutely basked in.

“Yes, yes, please, just like that.” you begged. His wolfish grin returned, all white teeth and dark brows. Darker eyes, hooded, and pretty pink lips.

The pretty pink blush that paints his skin matched, you thought. You watched him move in pleasure, a vein becoming prominent on the side of his neck. The sight of him like this made your stomach tighten again.

He groaned again, feeling you clench around him. It was in that moment, with his hips digging into the underside of your thighs, that he bent you completely. Large hands pushed your thighs down into your chest and it changed the constriction of your walls around his cock.

“Is this okay?” he mused through his breath. Uncertain if your increase in pleasure was from the angle or happiness at his devotion to bedroom equality, but you moaned regardless, nodding at him. It was too difficult to speak with your chest being constricted like that.

He smiled, whipping some misplaced hair from his eyes. “Good girl.”

You whimpered at his words and your hands wrapped around your own legs, keeping them in his requested position. Now freed, he brought a hand between your bodies. You could feel his palm and fingers splayed against you, your center clenching with white hot pleasure when his thumb pressed into your clit.

Junmyeon didn't slow his thrusts. Instead, his head was turned down, focusing intently on the image of his cock disappearing into the tight, hot wetness of your pussy. His lips were dropped open and his jaw was tight.

His chest and abs were tight, too, heavy breaths pushing from his lungs in a pant.

Suddenly, he sped up. It pulled a moan from you. Too quickly now the orgasm you had slowly seen coming from a distance was closing in, sinking deep into your gut like lead.

“I want you to come all over my cock, sweetheart.” he confessed hotly, increasing his efforts to make you do so.

Your answering whine was a confirmation that he might just get his wish. His hips slowed a little against you. Your eyes caught his tongue poking out as he swiped his thumb against it. It added more wetness against your bundle of nerves when he brought it back to circle repeatedly.

Junmyeon teased you now, nearly pulling himself out all the way so only the head remains, shallowly thrusting into you in a lazy manner. He was grinning down at you, but you could plainly see the battle in his rigid posture that he was enjoying teasing but desperate to be buried back inside your warmth.

Your gut felt heavier, the spiral coiling tighter in your abdomen. “Junmyeon...” you whimpered at him, your core fluttering with how nearly empty he had left you.

“Yes?” he asked, one brow tilting up at you. His eyes pulled up to your face and he smiled genuinely at your fucked out expression.

You tried to speak words but they came out jumbled, a hot mess of incoherent letters that Junmyeon assumed meant you were going to come soon by the way your thighs were begging to tremble just so. You had spread yourself wider in an attempt to welcome him closer to you.

He removed a hand from your leg, letting it carve a scorching path up your body to pluck at your newly freed breast again. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and the yelp you released made him chuckle. You did not mean to blush harder, but his voice stirred the lava in your belly hotter.

Junmyeon bit his lips, groaning, “You’re so sensitive here,” he commented, teasing the nipple again just to hear you cry out, “I like that.”

The pleasure became too much for you to stave off any longer, and you froze up in his arms with a high pitched cry. He grunted, burying himself to the hilt and releasing a long moan. He released your clit from the torture of his thumb.

The pace he set immediately is hard, forcing himself between your walls, releasing tiny pants of breath for every powerful squeeze around his aching cock.

“Fuck, fuck fuck sweetheart. Yes, fuck... yes.” the words dropped from his lips in erotic praise had you twisting, the unbearable pleasure overstimulating your body.

Junmyeon became uncoordinated, grabbing your ankle and opposite hip to keep you still beneath him. “You can take it.” he growled, teeth clenched and moaning between his bitten lips. His brows furrowed hard as he drove into you repeatedly with messy thrusts. He didn't realize he was holding his breath or that there was a tick in his jaw. You realized, as he fought to deny himself his high, he looked angry.

The glutton for punishment in you sighed, clenching once more around him with aftershocks of your own orgasm subsiding. That put him over the edge, spilling all of his breath into the air between you at once. He threw his head back, thrusting one, two, three more times before he went as deep into you as possible and stilled.

Junmyeon’s head rolled forward on his shoulders, those pretty lips open in fucked out bliss. You wanted to kiss him, badly. His flushed chest was heaving and he shuddered visibly, eyes screwed shut in bliss.

Slowly he sunk into your body, curling himself over you as the pleasure peak left his body weak. He wasn't looking at your face, but you were staring at him. You kissed the tip of his nose and smiled, watching as he lifted his head to stare right back with a smile so pretty you could almost blame it on your shortness of breath.

You whimpered when he pulled his softening cock from you, and the full warmth of it with him. Unmoving, you watched him remove and tie off the condom before disposing of it in the waste bin beside the armchair.

He crawled back to the bed, scratching at his chest. Your eyes met and you both smiled. You knew you should leave but was it over? Did he need a few minutes to recover? Did he hate it?

Junmyeon was watching you field these questions in your head, deciding instead to just pull your relaxed body to him.

You began to speak, but he shushed you with a mellow kiss, “Thank you for that.”

“Oh.” is what came out, instead of anything useful. Your bewildered expression made him laugh against you.

“What?” you tried, pouting.

He handled you into a comfortable position, situating your body against his side and pulling your arm over his stomach. Absentmindedly, your fingers felt right at home running softly across his abs. “I don’t think you were expecting me to thank you?” he questioned with a scoff.

“No, I just... well I don’t know. This is always the confusing part. Do I leave, do I stay? Do you want to do it again, will you marry me?” You were both laughing at the ridiculousness of the last question.

“Don’t laugh, I’ve been asked that question immediately after sex before.” you said, digging your fingers into his ribs. It only made him laugh harder.

“I wasn’t going to ask you that.” he hummed.

“Good. I won’t have to break your heart when I say no.”

He balked, feigning hurt, “You would say no?!”

“I mean, celebrity or not, we did just meet today.”

“It’s not a no, though...” you heard him trail off.

You patted his chest with the flat of your hand, giving him your best fake smile, “It’s still a no, sweetie.”

You both laughed again, and he kissed your hair with a sigh, “For now, just rest here with me, if that’s okay?”

There was something in his tone that told you he was lonely, and suddenly some of his earlier comments came rushing back to you. It hurt your heart to think about. You could read between the lines, he was saying he didn't want to be alone.

“It’s,” you paused, looking to the digital clock on the charging station beside the bed, “five eighteen in the morning. I don’t have to be at class until eleven forty.” Suddenly, you gasped, raising yourself on your elbow to stare at him, “Do you think I’ll make it on time?”

Junmyeon lost it, snorting loudly. He pulled you back down and kissed your face before wrestling you to curl against him again.

So you relaxed. Lazily, both too tired to get up or clean up. Instead, you found your eyes closing as you listened to his steady heart beating within his rib cage. Your palm felt the gentle rise and fall of his stomach with his breath. You didn't realize how calm and warm it made you, pulling you deeply into slumber. You hadn't fallen asleep this easily in so long.

You jolted awake by the sound of a notification from your phone. Looking around, you noticed it’s nearly nine in the morning. There was just enough light from the dull, cloudy December morning to assist your eyes. A shiver ran through you when you remembered you were naked. Your eyes snapped to the side, realizing Junmyeon was still sound asleep with one arm behind his head, the other flat against the linens at your back.

You felt like you should go. It was not too early to get a cab back to your apartment and he probably wanted you gone by the time he woke up, anyway. It was just casual sex and a nap. Too bad you didn’t get to have a second go at it.

Quickly and as quietly as possible, you dressed, hunting for each piece and throwing it on haphazardly. Without turning on the light, you checked your hair in the bathroom mirror, stuffing it all into a cap you brought in your overnight bag.

Your phone pinged again. Checking, it’s two text messages, both from Soohyun.

SH: I hope you made it home safe????

SH: I just got up and realized you hadn’t messaged me. I don’t care about the deets, I just need you to tell me you got home, Y/N.

You smiled, keying in a quick reply.

Y/N: I’m fine. I am leaving his hotel now, should be home by nine thirty.

One last look over your shoulder at the sleeping idol sent you on a roller coaster of emotions you normally did not get with such detached partners.

It was a one night stand, nothing more and nothing less. Just two mutually attracted parties releasing their sexual frustration upon one another.

But... you had never stayed to sleep with any of your past escapades, as few and far between as they might be. You had never been made to feel like you were an equal participant. You had never felt so light afterwards that you were comfortable enough to sleep.

You had never been paid so much attention and not just a warm pussy for someone to lick and then stuff their dick into, no matter how good they fucked. You had never been treated like they were generally interested in caring who you are as a person, and you had certainly never connected with someone where it all felt natural. Not in a long time and never with a one night stand.

Junmyeon was different, and you thought about how grateful you were for last night during your ride home. You don’t know why you felt sad. Not for yourself, but for him. It hurt to know, now that it was over, how badly he craved to not feel lonely.

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