#because i get my fill of kids in one shot every week

[hellfirenacht]

Candygram

Summary: It's Valentine's day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a Candygram.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, fluff, sfw

4.8k Words Master List

“Just do it.”  Robin said, following your line of sight to the booth in the corner of the Hawkins cafeteria. It was a simple table with a red cloth thrown over it and a handmade banner that read ‘CANDYGRAMS $1’ and was decorated with tacky hearts. 

Every time you glanced over at the booth, your heart would start pounding and your stomach would twist in knots. You had never considered yourself to be shy before, when you first moved to Hawkins a few years ago, Robin had joked that you didn’t need a welcome wagon because you had thrown yourself into band and had introduced yourself to everyone with ease. 

You had masked your anxiety over being the new kid with an overinflated sense of confidence and it had worked out really well for you until you caught feelings for the freak who sat next to you in remedial science. 

“I think... I would rather chug formaldehyde.” you said slowly, staring so hard at the offensively pink and red booth that Robin was sure it was going to catch flames. 

“Either go up there and buy a candygram or I’m going to do it for you.” Robin said. “If I have to hear you waffle about this for one more day I’m gonna rip my hair out.” 

“But if I send him one, then he might actually acknowledge me and realize I might have something resembling a feeling for him, and that’s just not really cool, you know? Goes against my chill and mysterious personality.” you said, leaning back on your chair with a cocky grin. 

“Last night I saw you and Steve cry over Bambi.” Robin deadpans. 

“Okay, so we were drunk and also shut up.” you snorted, rubbing your face. 

“How are you going to know if there’s anything there if you don’t even take the chance?” Robin scolds. “Come one, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m surprised the whole school doesn’t know-”

“Again, cool and mysterious personality.” you tried again. 

“Plus I know he’s just as weird as you.” Robin continued, ignoring you. “I mean, last week I saw him get Jason Carver to back off one of the freshmen by pretending to exercise a demon out of him!”

You stared at Robin for a beat before thunking your head on the lunch table. “I’m going to marry him. Holy shit, he actually tried to expel the demon lurking in Carver?” You were laughing at the thought. 

During your first senior year and his second, Eddie Munson had caught your eye when you had the same lunch period. He was loud and energetic and so fucking weird you couldn’t help but to be drawn to him. Had your parents not forced you to stick with band, you would have considered joining Hellfire. Unfortunately even with this last go-round as a super senior, they still made you stick with it despite your senioritis reaching terminal levels.

You never had a good opportunity to talk to him, and the more time passed the harder it became to justify just randomly approaching him. This semester you finally had your opportunity when you’d been put in the same class and sitting next to each other no less. Still, the most you’d been able to say was “yeah, sure” when he’d asked you for a pencil once. 

Four weeks sitting next to Eddie, and you had barely spoken to him while noticing every little thing about him. He read a lot in class when he could get away with it, and doodled in his notebooks constantly, especially dice and dragons seemed to be the biggest theme. His school notebook wasn’t nearly as filled in as his Hellfire notebook, and he was always fidgeting in class. He also didn’t talk much, and at least once a week he’d end up falling asleep in class with his head in his hand. 

“There’s not gonna be a wedding if you can’t even talk to the guy.” Robin said. “He’s not even scary! Dustin comes in to talk to Steve all the time about Hellfire. He’s just a dork.”

“I know and that’s the problem.” your voice was a strangled laugh mixed with a groan. 

“You showed up the first day of band and introduced yourself to everyone, even if they weren’t in your section. What is the hold up with you talking to Eddie?” Robin pried. 

“Because back then, it didn’t matter.” You looked over at Robin, poking at your mystery meat. “When I first got here it didn’t matter if anyone liked me or not. I was only supposed to be in this school for a few months and then graduate. Then I didn’t. I could handle it if someone didn’t like me. None of you were really supposed to matter to me. No offense.”

Thankfully, Robin didn’t seem offended. “You were just making nice with the inmates until parole.” she joked and you nodded. 

“Yup, and then when I realized that I was going to have to actually have a full other year of school, that meant that I was going to have to care if I was ever gonna graduate.” You continued. “Luckily you saw through all my bullshit bravado and started dragging me to movie nights with you and Steve.” 

“Yeah yeah, we love friendship. So what does any of this have to do with Eddie?” Robin said, not needing you to explain the backstory that she had been present for. 

“It means that with Mr. Munson, I unfortunately, care so fucking much what he thinks of me.” you relented. “He’s the biggest freak in school, and the dorkiest loser, and if I try and talk to him and he’s not interested in talking back I won’t be able to take it. Robin, I will simply lay down and be dead for the rest of my life.”

“That’s not how that works, you can’t be dead for the rest of your life.” She shook her head, her brows furrowed. “Because if you’re dead then... you’re not alive”

“Schrodinger's corpse then. Alive and dead at the same time.” 

“Look, just send him the stupid candygram. The worst he can do is say no.” She stood up from the table and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”

And that’s how you ended up at the booth, jotting down Eddie’s name on a piece of paper and shoving a few quarters in the till with Robin looking smug. “I doubt he’s ever gotten one anyway, if anything he should be thrilled that someone wanted to send him one.”

“If this kills me, Steve’s in charge of the music at my funeral.” you sighed. 

---

Candygrams were being handed out and delivered through the week. You weren’t paying attention to what period they were supposed to be handed out, and so when two students in obnoxious heart shirts and fake wings burst into your science class with Eddie right next to you, you were about ready to throw yourself out a window. 

No one was surprised when Janet and Charlie were tossed a few candygrams, but everyone’s head whipped around when the red heart shaped lollipop and card was set on Eddie Munson’s desk. Eddie himself seemed more surprised than anyone. 

He had the lollipop in his mouth before he even opened the note attached and you were seconds away from bolting out the door. With any luck, maybe he didn’t know your name even after weeks of sitting next to each other. 

“Who’s it from, freak?” asked Patrick, the basketball jock who sat a few rows ahead. That earned a few snickers from the class. 

“It’s from your mom.” Eddie said without missing a beat and taking out the lollipop. “Tell her I say thanks.”

More laughter from the class as Patrick stood up as if ready to fight, but the teacher quickly told him to sit down. 

Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You felt a bit guilty that your candygram had kicked up a fuss, but at least Eddie didn’t out you as the person who sent it to him. In fact he wasn’t looking over at you at all. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he flipped the card around, as if looking for something. All that was written was his name and “YOU’RE SWEET!” written in cheesy font and his name scribbled in your handwriting. 

And nothing else. 

You didn’t know if you should laugh or cry at your stupidity. You’d been so jumbled and nervous that you’d forgotten to sign the damn thing. Robin was gonna have a field day with this one. 

Eddie kept fidgeting with the card through the rest of class, twisting it and bending it until it was as crumpled and torn as your heart felt. He shoved it in his pocket and didn’t even glance at you as the bell rang and he stood up and tossed the eaten lollipop stick in the trash. 

It’s not personal. You told yourself. He has no idea who sent it to him.

That’s when you had a horrible idea, so stupid it might actually work. 

---

“Explain how this is going to work again?” Robin asked. “You’re going to keep sending him lollipops this week until he notices you?” 

“Sort of.” you said, buying another candygram. “I’ll just send him a few joke ones as a feeler and if he responds positively I’ll come clean. If not, I keep my dignity. It’s a win-win.”

“Since when do you care about your dignity?” Robin sorted. 

“Since I caught feelings for the least dignified guy in school, I guess.” You knew it was stupid, you knew it was ridiculous, but you already messed up once so you might as well lean into it. You scribbled his name down, this time signing it with a satisfied giggle. “This is so dumb.”

Oh, but it was so worth it. You had bought it before school started, guaranteeing that it’d be delivered the same day, handing over a crisp dollar to Nancy Wheeler who had volunteered for the booth. If Eddie had been surprised the first time, he looked almost shocked now.

Eddie, sorry I forgot to sign the first one! This card said, once again not giving away any sign of who it was actually from. You saw his eye sparkle in amusement as he ate his lollipop, and this time the card was read over a few times before being carefully tucked into his dungeon master notebook. 

By the third day, the novelty of Eddie Munson getting candygrams had worn off with the rest of your class, but Eddie’s grin only grew wider each time. 

“Anything for me, Cupid?” Eddie asked as the student council members walked back in to hand out more lollipops. 

He whooped as another one was dropped on his desk and he snatched up the card quickly and you had to cover your face and bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling at his excitement. 

Eddie, sorry I’m so bad at remembering to sign these things! I just get way too excited about sending them out that I lose focus. So anyway this card is actually from-

You had carefully spaced out your writing on the small rectangle of paper so that it left absolutely no room for you to sign your name. Eddie looked downright giddy as he read the note over and over. Seeing him so happy made your stomach burst into butterflies and even if he decided after this he wasn’t interested, this was enough. Knowing that he was smiling because of you was enough. 

Someone said your name and you looked up, surprised to see one of the student council members standing next to you and handing you a candygram. Your eyebrows shot up as you took it with a thanks and opened up the card. 

Who had sent one to you? You’d been so wrapped up in your little scheme you didn’t even consider that someone would try and send you one either. 

A smile tugged at your lips as you saw your name and a small drawing of what looked like an egg in a nest as the sender. Robin, of course. Probably making fun of you for sending candygrams to Eddie without signing either. 

You tucked the candygram in your own notebook safely and dared a glance over at Eddie again. You hadn’t expected for him to be looking back at you, and your heart jumped in your chest. He unwrapped his lollipop and lifted it slightly as if he was trying to toast. You held yours up as well to him, an off sense of camaraderie between two people who had their day temporarily disturbed for commercialized love. 

Thursday came around, Valentine's day proper, but they’d be doing one last day of candygrams on Friday as well. This was a fundraiser after all, and capitalism trumps any semblance of real sincerity. Well, you said that but that wasn’t exactly going to stop you from continuing your little plan. 

Today was the day you were going to pull out the big guns. You handed over a full $5 to have a carnation sent to Eddie, as well as a return to sender card to Robin for being a good friend. 

“Shouldn’t he be the one sending you a flower?” Nancy asked, handing you the card to write on. You wondered how Nancy had time for all of the extracurricular activities she had going on, working with the student council and the school newspaper. 

You just shrugged at the question, not realizing how wide you were smiling or how obviously warm your cheeks were. To anyone with two eyes, you were glowing and to anyone with one eye, you were phosphorescent. 

The disinterest that your classmates had from the last two rounds perked back up with a flower was delivered to Eddie that afternoon. 

“For little old me?” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes at the delivery boy as he took the carnation. You giggled to yourself as he opened the card again. 

Man, I’m bad at this aren’t I? Don’t worry, this time I’m writing very small so I have room to sign this card. Seeing you light up when these get delivered has made my whole week, and totally worth it. Anyway this is from- 

To be fair, you had actually signed your name this time. However this time you had made an attempt to erase it with one of those erasers. The horrible stiff ones that only made big smudges and made the mistake worse and nearly tore through the paper. You had carefully looked at your smudged signature for a long time before deciding it was illegible enough to send. 

Eddie faked a swoon in his seat, nearly toppling over onto the floor. “Come on!” he laughed, pushing himself back upright, smiling with his whole face. He looked over the note again, something clicking in his brain and you quickly looked down at the book you were currently pretending to read. 

“It’s someone in here.” you heard him mutter to himself and your heart started pounding in your chest. You focused on your breathing to try and stop yourself from giggling and giving yourself away. 

“Stop sending yourself stuff, Munson. It’s pathetic.” Patrick called out. 

“If you wanted me to be your Valentine, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask nicely.” Eddie said, but he sounded distracted as his eyes scanned the room for any hint of who this mysterious person is. “And next time, I’m more than happy with just the lollipop, it’s saving me on smokes.”

You didn’t even notice the lollipop on your desk until class had started back up. Unfolding the card you smiled to yourself, seeing that it was from Robin again. This time the egg in the nest had a crack in it and seemed to be hatching. You’d ask her about it later. 

Nothing said during the rest of class even registered with you, every word was in one ear and out the other. This had been a fun week sending Eddie all the lollipops and flowers but tomorrow was the last day to have something sent to him. 

Were you going to sign your name? That’s the million dollar question. You had told Robin that you would if Eddie seemed interested, and he had made it clear he was enjoying the attention. 

But would he still enjoy the attention if he learned it was from you? You two weren’t exactly friends, but not complete strangers either. He didn’t seem to dislike you, after all he’d raised a toast with you with your lollipops the other day. 

Well, if you were gonna put yourself out there, you were gonna do it on your own terms.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Robin said that Friday morning as you dropped a handful of ones on the table for one last hurrah. 

“Nope, I’ve committed.” you said, taking the small stack of cards and getting to work. 

“I’m going to have you committed.” Robin shook her head. “I mean, this is actually insane, you know that right? There’s no reason to go through all this trouble, when you could just talk to him.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Buckley?” you asked, as you added one letter of your name to each of the cards. “Gotta make him work for it.”

“So you’re gonna give him a Valentine's themed word jumble as your big sign off?” 

“Yup.” you confirmed, adding his name to each of the cards. He’d get them all in one go and then it’s up to him to unscramble your name and figure it out. 

After that... well, the ball is in his court. 

Besides, if he liked the lollipops enough that he’d reach for one instead of a cigarette then that’s good enough. 

“You’re such a weirdo. You deserve each other.” Robin went on. “The Weirdo and the Freak. It’s like Beauty and the Beast except.. Not.”

“Robin, don’t you know three languages?” you snorted finishing up your stack and handing them over to be sent. “You are so much smarter than me, but this is where you lose words?”

“It’s Friday and I haven’t had coffee.” she pointed out. “Oh, thanks for sending me one by the way.”

“Yeah, of course. I mean you sent me one so I wasn’t gonna leave you hanging.” you nudged her playfully. 

“I didn’t send you one.” Robin looked at you, confused. 

“What?” You reached into your backpack and pulled out the notebook where you had placed the card and handed it to her. “But that’s a robin’s egg...?”

“It’s an egg, probably.” Robin agreed. “But I’m broke. I didn’t send any out.” 

You stared at the card with new eyes. If she didn’t send it, then who did?

---

“Holy shit.” Eddie muttered as a bag of lollipops was dumped on his desk with no rhyme or reason, earning a round of laughter and snickers from the class. The teacher had long since given up on trying to keep the class’s attention when the Cupid’s showed up. 

He sorted through the cards, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked at the different letters on the cards until he found one that had real words on it. 

Figure it out, Sucker <3 Eddie’s face was a wonderful mixture of amusement, bewilderment, and mild offense. 

One of the Cupid’s handed you another two lollipops as well. One was actually signed by one of your friends in band, and the other had another doodle of an egg. This time the egg was completely hatched and there was some sort of weird bird flying off. 

Not a robin. You decided, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be. 

You barely paid attention in class for the rest of the hour, your attention split between the three egg Valentines you received and the man next to you. Eddie had pulled out his Dungeon Master notebook to try and decode your message. You felt flattered that he was using his favored notebook to try and figure out your puzzle. 

Eddie was sucking on one of the lollipops diligently as he scribbled down random letters. Now that you thought about it, you’d never seen him look so studious in class before. You wondered if this is what he looked like when he was working on his campaigns and your brain decided to give you a treat of a daydream where the two of you were sitting around in your room while he explained his campaign and how he’d love to have someone like you join Hellfire-

It was three minutes before the bell, and that meant just a few minutes until your last period and the weekend. With Valentine’s day falling in the middle of the week, most of your friends were going to be off doing things with their partners. Maybe you, Robin, and Steve- no wait, Steve actually got dates. Robin worked on the weekend. 

Maybe Eddie- NOPE. Not going there, you were not about to get your hopes up for this. 

You glanced over at him again, looking at his notebook to see if he was anywhere close to decoding your name. Eddie had the worst handwriting you’d ever seen and so you would be surprised if he could even figure out his own notes. Between unjumbling your letters, he had started doodling in the margins. You assumed that they were D&D monsters from the look of it, since none of them looked like actual animals except for the bats in the corner. 

The only other thing you recognized was a dragon, drawn in a larger scale on the side of the page. It’s wings were expanded and it was flying off, and from this angle it looked like a weird...

It looked like some bird

Some sort of weird bird

Your head snapped back down to the card in front of you. This wasn’t a weird bird. It was a dragon. A dragon hatching from an egg. An egg that hatched a dragon. A dragon that was drawn with the same pose as the one in Eddie’s notebook. Eddie’s notebook had your dragon no wait, your card had his dragon-

Eddie Munson had sent you the cards. 

Eddie had-

“Oh.” You said out loud. You were nearly fighting back hysterical laughter at this, and you pressed your hands against your face, with your shoulder shaking with repressed laughter. 

Why the hell had Eddie sent you those cards? The two of you had barely spoken to each other!

 You did the same damn thing, dipshit. You reminded yourself. In fact you had gone way harder than he had. But what did this MEAN? 

The bell rang and everyone scrambled to get out of the classroom, and before you could say anything, Eddie was off and running out of the classroom at the speed of light. 

What was that about?

Robin was right. If you were ever going to have a chance with him, you were going to suck it up and talk to him, even if it meant possibly embarrassing yourself. Plus, finding out why he sent you three candygrams was currently trumping any fear of rejection. Curiosity killed the cat, but at least he died satisfied. You’re pretty sure how that saying went at least. 

You knew that Eddie had Hellfire today, it was Friday and he and all of his friends had been running around in their club shirts. With a deep breath you...realized you had no idea where the hell they actually met. 

This whole thing could have been planned better, actually. 

You started walking around the school blindly for any sign of the signature baseball tee that they all wore. If you found one of them, they were sure to lead you to Eddie. God, you felt like a stalker. 

There. Long dark curls against a stark white shirt with black sleeves. Your heart leapt in your chest, and you had to make the choice now. 

“E... Eddie! Wait up!” you called out, walking quickly towards him. 

When he turned around to look at you, you felt the air disappear from your lungs. How was it possible for him to be so beautiful and why the fuck did no one in this school seem to notice? 

Eddie pulled the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth, surprised to see you. 

“Hey.” he said. “Uh... you sit next to me in class.” 

He was either playing dumb, or you were about to make an ass of yourself. But, like Robin asked, since when do you care about dignity?

You reached into your bag and pulled out the candygrams that had been sent to you and holding them out. 

To your relief he gave you a bashful smile. “Guess you caught me, huh?” he asked. “You solved my Valentine’s puzzle.” 

“I have a pretty high intelligence when I apply myself.” you said, which only made him grin wide. “But I gotta say, Munson. I’m actually a little disappointed. I mean, sadistic and scary dungeon master of the Hellfire club, and this is the best puzzle you could come up with?”

He crossed his arms and took a step towards you. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” he said, and your stomach erupted into butterflies. “Had to start somewhere.” 

“I guess I had to be sneaky and pay attention to you to figure it out. You’re hard not to notice, you know.” you admitted, crossing your arms as well to mimic him. 

“Being The Freak means I fail most stealth checks.” he shrugged. 

“High charisma though.” you threw out there, hoping that line would land and to your delight it did.

“It’s the Munson Magic. I come by it naturally.” Eddie’s smile was so wide it was cheesy but shit, it was working on you. 

“Not great intelligence though.” you smirked at him. 

“Oh? And how do you figure that?” He looked a little offended now, and you saw his shoulder stiffen as if he was waiting for this to suddenly go south. 

“Spell my name, Eddie.” 

You could see the lightbulb go off in his mind and his eyes widened. 

“You- wait, you were the one who kept sending me the cards?” Eddie looked nothing short of bewildered and ecstatic. You had a feeling that if things went well, you wouldn’t have to worry about ever knowing what he was thinking as he wore every emotion on his sleeve. 

“Surprise?” you asked, playing with the strap of your backpack. 

Eddie licked his lips, chasing the last of the flavor of the sucker he’d been eating. He looked at you, as if searching for something, and you cut in before he had the chance to find it. 

“Do you want to hang out sometime?” you asked, a little louder than you meant to. “Like, just us.”

“Do you think you can handle a date with The Freak?” Eddie asked, standing a little straighter. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and I promise the worst of them are true.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eddie, I’ve always wanted to join Hellfire.” you smirked. “I’m sure there are worse things for a first date than sacrificing someone to Satan, or summoning demons, or joining a cult.”

“I’m a gentleman, I would never ask a lady to summon demons on the first date. That’s at least a third date activity.” Eddie held his hand to his heart and raised a hand as if making an oath. 

Oh yeah, you were going to marry him. You were already picturing proposing to him and taking him away from this town. 

“Then how about dinner at Benny’s?” you suggested. “Burgers and shakes on me and you can tell me more about Hellfire and dragons and I can give you a spelling lesson.”

Eddie ran his ringed fingers through his hair and you giggled as the rings got snagged and he struggled to untangle them. 

“It’s.. a date then.” he said, but it came out as more of a question, as if he was asking if this was really happening. 

“A date.” You agreed, handing him your number, having come prepared. 

As you began to walk away, he called out after you. 

“Wait! You said you wanted to check out Hellfire, right?” Eddie said and you turned to look at him. “I’m... I’m actually running a one shot tonight. Kind of beginner friendly enough. I don’t often do this in the middle of the semester but one of our usuals dropped out because he had a date so... we have an open seat at the table. If you think you can handle it.”

Your smile widened as you walked over to him. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

Eddie offered his arm to you, as if he were a gentleman which you took eagerly. 

“So... how do you actually spell your name?” 

---

Dear Reader, I hope you have the easiest name to spell because that would make this fic at least 3% funnier. Also, I'm proud I got this done before Valentine's day because I never even finished my Halloween or Christmas fic. Be proud of me.

Please reblog if you enjoyed it <3

Tag List: @gagasbee, @ihaventgotaclue-really @tastefullyferal @anonymouskiwi @hellfiredarling

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader

[barefoothighlander]

HELLO i have a request so ill try my best to explain it okay uhm, so could you do threesome like ghost x reader x könig ? IDK ABOUT THE PLOT BUT LIKE first they dont give in because of the age gap cuz they think y/n is too young or whatever but them they get put in a same room for a night since they had to stop for some serious reasons LIKE IDK YOU TIDY UP ALL THIS MESS BUT PLEASE LIKE THE READER HAS CHOKING KINK AND DEGRADING KINK YOU MAKE THE REST THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO THIS BECAUSE LIKE I RLLY CANT FIND ANYTHING WHERE READER GETS SANDWITCHED BETWEEN TWO MASSIVE MEN 😭😭 i beg 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I will take every given chance to thirst over these massive men, won't lie I got carried away with this so... enjoy

warnings: mdni (18+), smut, unprotected pinv, threesome, age gap, degradation, some praise, choking, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mention of alcohol, blowjob, blindfold, oral (fem rec), creampie

You'd been in the safehouse with Konig and Ghost for two days already, two days of waiting in silence for someone to come and rescue you. The two men gave little in means of conversation, sitting quietly in their posts, keeping watch, occasionally glancing over to you.

You grew tired of the quiet within the first night, attempting a few times to spark conversations, the men would give simple responses in the form of hums or nods, not affording you full sentences. They had been awkward around you for a few weeks, the treatment starting after a drunken night at Soaps house, a few rounds of 'never have I ever' and too many rounds of shots.

"Right but if ye were to have a threesome, who'd you pick?" Soaps question makes your eyes widen, your cheeks blushing as you realize you don't even need time to think of your response.

"Ghost and Konig" Your response caused a thick tension to fill the air, you purposefully avoid the gaze of the two men as Soap's eyes lit up.

"I dinnae if you could handle both of them, lass, I mean, they're... large" Soap chooses his words carefully, eyes glancing around the room as the two men remain like statues, your heartbeat racing in your ears.

"Next question" Ghost's voice breaks the tension, you turn your attention back to your drink, heat flushing your skin.

You didn't realize how much your drunken words would affect the men but now, two weeks later and stuck in a safe house with them it showed, barely a word muttered between them.

"What's wrong with you two?" You ask in a fit of either confidence or annoyance,

"What do you mean?" Ghost turns to you

"One day were all chatting and having fun, and the next you two avoid me like the plague"

The men share a look, you throw your arms up in question,

"We aren't avoiding you" Konig shrugs

"I don't know how long we're stuck here and if neither of you will talk I'm going to lose my mind"

"Stop being a brat" Ghosts words make you tense

"Then tell me why you won't talk to me"

"Because you're just a kid," Ghost says, his voice low

"I'm younger than you, that's why you won't talk to me" You scrunch your face

"It's more that you want to fuck us" Ghost states plainly, your body freezes, your eyes widening at his words, you turn to Konig who's just as frozen as you, Ghost rests his weight on one leg, his thumb through the loop of his belt as he stares at you.

"I don't" You stammer

"What about the game the other night?" Konig adds

"Just a game"

"You're a terrible liar kid," Ghost says

"Stop calling me that" Your hands begin to fidget, unsure of what to do under the pressure of their eyes

"What would you rather us call you?"

"My name" Your eyes are glued to the floor, unable to look at them, Ghost moves toward you, his boots heavy against the floor. His hand moves to rest on your chin, tilting your head to face him,

"You sure there's not anything else you wanna be called?"

"Ghost.." Konig warns, "We can't"

"M'not sure about that, it's just us here anyway"

Your skin burns under his stare, his hand moves from your jaw back to rest on his vest, his shoulders broad, his stance purposefully intimidating you.

"Kneel"

Your breath is rapid, you keep your eyes locked on his as you drop to your knees, your neck craned to look at him,

"Ghost" Konig glances between your bodies, his tone stern, a final warning to his teammate

"Do you want this?" He softens his gaze for a moment, giving you an out, you're tiny under his hulking frame, cheeks red as your heart races, you glance between the masked man, focusing your gaze back on his skull mask.

"Please" It comes out as a whimper

"Please what?"

You huff a breath, "Please fuck me"

"Tell him" Ghost turns towards Konig, you follow his gaze, pleading eyes landing on his hood,

"Please, I need you, need you both"

"Oh kleine maus" He releases a deep breath, moving toward you, he stands behind you, you're trapped between the men with no escape, head level with their groins as your mind flurries.

"You gonna be good for us?"

You nod your head

"You gonna take what we give you?" Ghosts hands rest on his belt

"Yes" You can feel your arousal pooling, you slick drenching your panties as you sit, Ghost palms himself over his pants the tent in his pants more visible by the second.

You wriggle your hips, trying to gain some friction on your sex but Konigs hands are quick to settle on your shoulders, keeping you still,

"Careful, you take what we give you, nothing more" His voice echoes through your ears from above, you look up at the men, trying to gage what they were thinking but their masks reveal nothing, you furrow your brows in a silent plea, the sound of Ghosts belt music to your ears.

"You stay focused on me, eyes ahead" Ghost orders, you nod, doe eyes staring at him as you feel Konig kneel behind you, his hands roaming your frame.

Ghost unzips his pants letting his cock spring free, you wet your lips at the sight, a sudden nervousness taking over your body as you realize how big he is. He takes his cock in his hand, pumping it a few times,

"Don't worry, you can take it"

He teases his leaking tip against your lips, smearing his slick against the skin as you part them, flattening your tongue, he runs his tip over the muscle, gathering your saliva on it before pushing in an inch. You hum around him, the taste of his pre cum salty on your tongue.

Konig's hands move to roam under your shirt, bunching the fabric above your breasts before urging your arms up so he can lift it, his hands moving to paw at your breasts. The contact forces a moan from your throat, the vibration making Ghost let out a small grunt as he pushes deeper into your mouth.

Ghosts hand cups your jaw, pulling your gaze up to him, you stare at him through your lashes, he squeezes your jaw lightly asking permission, you nod slightly and blink your eyes at him. You brace your hands against his thighs as his fingers pull your hair back, he thrusts into your mouth slowly, allowing you time to breathe before he pulls out all the way, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, forcing you to gag around him.

You breathe through your nose as his tip brushes against your throat over and over, the saliva from your mouth polling around the base of his cock, dripping down to his balls.

Konig's hands roam further down your frame, his fingers slipping past the band of your pants to cup your sex, the contact making you moan around Ghost's length.

"Scheiße so wet already, kleine schlampe" His fingers tease over your clothed pussy, you move your hips to grind down on his fingers and he pinches your clit, forcing a muffled yelp from you.

"Needy slut" He breathes in your ear, his words going straight to your core, tears prick your eyes as Ghosts thrusts deep into your mouth, pulling his cock out as your head falls forward, gasping for air,

"Please, touch me" You pant,

"S'that what you want you fucking slag, need Konig's fingers to stretch you out while I fuck your throat?"

"Yes, God please" You beg, your chest heavy

"Earn it" Ghosts hand moves his cock back to your lips, your reach to grip his length, your saliva working to help you glide your digits up and down his cock, taking him into your mouth as Konig's hand dips below your panties, you clench your eyes shut as he pushes his fingers into you, his thumb settling against your clit as the digits pump into your weeping cunt.

"Eyes up here" Ghost's hand grabs your cheek, forcing you to look at him, your work his length, flattening your tongue to allow him deeper into your throat, gagging around his cock as Konig's fingers curve to swipe against your sweet spot.

You moan around Ghost's cock, his grip on your hair growing tighter as your hand pumps him, you keep your eyes locked on his as Jonig's fingers stretch you out, his thumb circling your clit making you clench down on him, his chest is pressed to your back keeping you still, you're trapped between the men.

Konig's free hand moves to pinch your hardened nipple, the sensation bringing you closer to the edge, Ghost can feel your movements become sloppy, his hand moving to grab atop yours, guiding it over his cock,

"You wanted it, now take it," He says through gritted teeth, he buries his cock in your throat and you arch against Konig, the hand on Ghost's thigh digging into the muscle as you reach your peak, whining and moaning around Ghosts cock,

"That's it, filthy girl" Konig coos in your ear, his fingers fuck you through your high as Ghost holds your jaw steady, his balls tighten as his head falls forward, strings of curses and grunts coming from him as he spills into your mouth, his seed dripping down your throat.

Your tears stain your cheeks as you swallow around him, gasping for a breath as he pulls out, a string of saliva dripping from his tip as you fall forward. Konig pulls his hands from you, his hands settling on your hips, helping you up, he holds you against his form and you feel his hard-on press against your back, the sensation making a shiver run up your spine.

He guides you toward the bed that sits in the corner of the room, helping you to sit on the edge before moving his hands from you.

“Close your eyes kleine maus”

You do as he says, fluttering your kids shut till your sight is consumed by darkness, you follow the sound of the men, the noises of their buckles clattering and they drop their pants down. You hear footsteps near you, hands holding the sides of your face as a piece of fabric is placed over your eyes, and tied behind your head.

“For identity's sake,” You hear Ghost say, you can’t see him but you can smell him, gunpowder and tobacco invades your senses as he moves from you.

You feel the mattress dip below you, strong arms pulling you back against the bed as your limbs splay across the sheets, rough hands knead at your breasts causing soft meals to fall from your lips, another pair tugs at your pants, pulling them from your legs so you’re bare, the cool air of the room hitting your dripping pussy, goosebumps form on your skin.

You move your arms to feel the man behind you, trying to figure out which one it was before strong hands grab yours, pinning them down,

“No touching, not yet” The English accent rings in your ears, you sigh quietly as Konig’s hands roam your bare thighs, squeezing at the flesh, you feel his breathe ghost over your cunt, you try to squeeze your legs shut but he holds them open, pressing your lower half into the mattress.

Your head rests in Ghost's lap, one hand holding yours down while his other moves to settle at the base of your neck, his fingers on your pulse point.

“Open your mouth”

You do as he says, dropping your jaw as he leans over your form, spit dripping from his tongue past your lips, you swallow it with a hum.

“Such a good little whore” His fingers squeeze lightly at your neck, your back pulls away from the mattress, arching as Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit.

He laps at your cunt, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe between your folds before closing his lips around your bud, sucking at the nerves as your head pushes further into Ghost's lap.

Ghost releases you, letting your hands roam to grab at anything you can while his settles at your breasts, twisting and punching your nipples, Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit, circling and sucking at the bud while you writhe under him.

“You’re gonna cum once more, then we’re gonna ruin you like the little slut you are” Ghost emphasizes his words with a squeeze to your throat, strangled moans escaping your throat as Konig’s tongue laps at you, inching you toward release.

His hands pin your hips as you try to grind against him, needing more,

“Be good, needy thing” He chastises from below you, his fingers digging into your hips sure to leave bruises as he continues his assault.

“C’mon, be a good little whore and cum on his tongue” Ghost voices rings above you, his words shooting straight to your core, you strain under Konig’s grip, his tongue has you teetering on the edge, he teases his fingers around your entrance earning a wanton moan from you as he pushes in, the new sensation has your vision blinding behind the mask as your second orgasm rips through your body, your hips twitching against his lips while Ghosts hands roam your form.

He eases you through your high, letting you come down slowly before detaching himself,

“Scheiße, taste so sweet, if I knew you sounded like that we would've done this sooner”

Your breaths are heavy as you lay against Ghost, your legs falling against the bed as Konig stands, his hands reach for your waist, flipping you to your stomach with ease, you fall against Ghost as he shifts under you, his hands steadying you as Konig lifts your hips from the bed.

He slots himself behind you, his palms pressing against your ass, spreading it to get a better view, Ghost's hands move to gently remove the mask from your eyes, peeling the fabric from your face, his hand on your chin as he tilts your head,

"Need you to keep your eyes on me, gonna watch you fall apart" His voice is gruff, you wriggle your hips toward Konig in anticipation, his tip gliding between your folds, collecting your slick. Ghost holds your face up, forcing you to strain your neck, an arch forming in your back as Konig lines himself up, pressing his tip against your hole, you gasp at the feeling, now aware of how big he is.

"You can take it, I know you can"

You relax your shoulders, hands pressing into Ghost as Konig pushes in deeper, the stretch of his fingers nothing compared to the way his cock feels,

"So goddamn tight maus," He says through gritted teeth, you struggle to keep your eyes on Ghost, your jaw falling open as gasps and moans slip past your lips,

"S'alright, you'll warm her up for me" Ghost reaches for your hand, moving it to settle atop his growing erection, his hand keeping yours pressed against him.

Konig quickens his pace, your body shifting back and forth against Ghost as he drags his length across your soaked walls, your slick wetting his pubes every time he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, you watch Ghost with hooded lids, his face remaining stoic as you palm his length.

Konig's grunts fill your ears, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room,

"That's it, love, take it, just like the little slut you are"

You moan at his words and you can see Ghost smirk under his mask, he's watching you unravel under their touch, your legs getting wobbly as Konig stretches you around his massive cock, forcing you to take every inch.

Konig snaked an arm around your waist, lifting your hips up slightly, allowing his fingers to tease around your clit, you let out a gasp and clench down on his length, the rough pads of his fingers circling your bud, his hold the only thing keeping you upright.

You drop your head forward but you're caught by Ghost, his fingers firm around your throat as he pulls your gaze back to him,

"Eyes on me or you don't get to cum"

You let out a small whimper, your free hand digging into the flesh of his thigh as Knoig works you toward another orgasm, the heat in your stomach building to sear your skin, every nerve alive as he thrusts into you.

He works your clit at a vicious pace, your brain a ball of fuzz as it refuses to form words, resorting to strings of moans and whimpers, you stare at Ghost with pleading eyes, tears brimming in them,

"You wanna cum?" He squeezes your throat, his other hand pressing your digits against his now firm cock.

You nod against his grip,

"Use your words"

"Yes, please, need to cum"

"You wanna soak his cock, you fuckin slag, do it, cum for us"

Your orgasm rips through your body, your limbs going limp as Konig holds you up, fucking you through your high as you melt against Ghost, fingers clenching against his flesh.

"Such a tight little pussy, mein gott, gonna make me cum"

Konig buries himself inside you, his balls pressed against your core,

"Beg for it slut, beg for his cum"

You let out a deep moan as the sensation, you're stuffed to the brim, unable to move,

"Please, need your cum, please Konig"

He grips your flesh as his muscles tighten, spilling his load inside you, keeping it deep inside your walls as he gives shallow thrusts, forcing it deeper, his spend floods your walls, spilling out as he pulls from you.

He releases you, letting you fall forward as Ghost moves from his spot leaving you limp against the bed, Konigs hands press against your shoulders, pulling you to all fours while he sits in front of you, resting against his legs. His cock is sitting in front of your eyes, his softening length teasing at your lips, you flatten your tongue but he pulls back,

"Not yet maus, gonna fill you up, don't worry"

You whimper at his words, needing to taste him while Ghost slots himself behind you, your aching core clenching around nothing as his fingers tease your slit, gathering the mixture of spend and smearing it around your skin.

He gives you no time to adjust, bottoming out in a single thrust, Konigs hands keeping you upright as your pussy clenches around Ghost, your tears stain your cheeks and Konig swipes a thumb over the wet skin,

"You're doing so well darling" He purrs, words escape you, diluted to a babbling mess as Ghost pounds into you, Konig kneels forward, his palm stroking up his length as his cock swipes across your wet lips, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Ghost presses a firm hand to your spine, your stomach pressing against the mattress, allowing him deeper while Konigs tip teases at your mouth, you part your lips for him, he smears your saliva around his tip, the taste of his spend lingering on his cock as you flatten your tongue, tasting him.

He pushes into your mouth, your body pinned between the two men as they fill you from both ends, Ghosts hands spread your ass as he lifts his mask above his nose, a string of spit dripping from his tongue to your hole, wetting the skin as he continues to fuck you at an unrelenting pace.

Your vision is blurry, your body weak as the men continue to wreck you, Konigs length pushing past your lips to drag along the inside of your mouth, you moan around his length, your hands digging into the sheets as you try to stay balanced.

"Is this what you wanted, needed to be filled by two cocks you little slut" Ghost emphasizes his words with harsh thrusts, the wet wounds of your hole filling the air as you gag around Konig, his balls slapping against your chi with every thrust.

Their hands keep you steady as your brain clouds with lust, all your senses invaded by the two men as they wreck your body, every part of you claimed by them.

"You wanna walk around with our cum in you? Dirty fucking girl"

The thought makes you hum around Konigs cock, your pussy clenching around Ghost,

"She likes that, you want us to mark you huh, ruin this little pussy"

You can't think to respond, simply resorting to clenching your eyes and arching your hips further toward Ghost, allowing him impossibly deep inside you.

Konig moves his hand to grab your hair, tugging your neck back to allow himself deeper, burying his cock in your throat as you gag around him before he pulls out a moment, allowing you to breathe.

"Please, need to feel you" You beg, your head turning towards the man behind you, Konigs hand moves to your throat, keeping you still in front of him as he thrusts back into your mouth. You're a mess of moans between the men, your hips twitching as Ghost's fingers connect with your swollen clit.

"One more, give me one more" He circles your bud, your cries muffled by Konig's length thrusting into your mouth as your orgasm builds quickly, you want to beg him to stop but you can't, your body moulding to the men as they bring you back to the edge.

The coil inside you threatens to snap as Ghost swipes your clit in time with his thrusts,

"Scheiße, look at me" Konig pants above you, you tilt your head to face him, your skin red, your lips puffy as you stare at him through your lashes. He stares at you with a piercing gaze and your orgasm erupts in your chest, clenching around Ghost while you moan around Konig, your body trembling under the men as your vision goes white, a dull ringing filling your ears.

"That's it, fuck" He buries himself in your throat, his seed filling your mouth as his hips twitch, you hum around his tip, your tongue lapping up every drop from his cock as he pulls out with a pop.

You take a deep breath, panting as Ghost pounds into you, your head falling forward as your arms give out, your drool pooling under your cheek as he presses you into the mattress.

"So fucking good" Ghost grunts, leaning over your frame as his tip prods at your cervix, he cums with a growl, his sounds buzzing above you while he fills you with his seed, your abused hole milking him. He keeps his softening cock inside for a moment, pulling it out and replacing it with his fingers, pushing the leaking spend back inside you, your hips flinch from the stimulation, your slick coating the insides of your thighs.

You fall forward, your body limp against the bed, the mattress dips under the weight of the men, Ghost lays back against the bed, his arms tugging you against him so your head can rest on his chest. Konig turns to grab a small cloth, easing himself down the bed to carefully wipe around your core, careful to avoid your swollen clit as he cleans you.

You catch your breath while Konig lays behind you, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you, your limbs are tangled between the two men while your heartbeat relaxes. His hands draw lazy patterns over your skin as your muscles ease, melting into the men,

"Did so well" Ghost places a soft kiss on the crown of your head, your cheeks pressed to the exposed skin of his upper chest, the warmth of the men comforting your sore body as the light of the sun peaks through the windows of the house.

"So good for us" Konigs hands trace over your skin, his chest flush with your back as he sandwiches you between him and Ghost, the thrum of their heartbeats filling your ears.

#cod mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #mw2022 #simon riley fluff #konig fluff #konig cod #konig fanfiction #konig call of duty #cod konig #konig #konig smut #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #simon ghost riley angst #ghost angst #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #reqs💌

[whorekneecentral]

Miss Me, Miss Me

Ruben Dias x Stones!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fwb!ruben, jack and reader are besties, alcohol and the consumption of, kyle is always annoying her, teasing, a strip tease according to reader, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering, orgasm denial, the use of 'whore' in a sexual/degrading context, penetrative sex (P in V ), big brother john is not having it.

Word Count: 2,952

Author's Note: this one is written solely for my pookie, that's also why ruben is so early on in this series lmao - all of these things are shit she'd eat up so pooks and everyone else, please enjoy :)

merry smutmas series

--

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. 

Will they or won't they was the tagline for your relationship - if you could even call it that- with Ruben.

You had recently moved to Manchester to be closer to your older brother and your niece and nephew. You had gone to every home game you could and over the course of the season, you fell into a bit of a pattern with the Portuguese defender.

It was innocent enough at first, you two were friends who occasionally hooked up to relieve whatever stress you were having but over the years, it turned into more. Feelings got involved and it got messy so because of that, and for your brother's sake - despite him not knowing, you pulled away from Ruben.

It was never your intention to make things messy.

You hadn't seen Ruben face to face in weeks, if not months. You had still gone to games but you simply went for your brother and then left afterwards, not hanging around too long.

Ruben had a hold over you; you knew if you hung around him too long, you'd just end up in his bed again. That was the last thing you wanted.

Today was unavoidable though.

John was hosting his annual Christmas party at his place; old friends, a few of the boys from his time at Barnsley as well as his teammates and their families from Man City filled his house.

You were somehow, always on kid duty. You were in the room with a bunch of kids; Kevin's, John's, Phil's, Ederson's and a few others that you had no idea who they belonged to.

"Settle down," you tell them, trying to get them off the sugar rush to watch a movie. You tried to rock your nephew in one arm while you switched on the tv, the kids shouting 400 different movie titles all at once.

You huffed and your nephew began to cry just as you tried to ask which one they really wanted to watch but someone opened the door. Jack smiles at you, taking the remote from you when he sees how flustered you are.

He worked a miracle, getting them to quiet down enough for you to calm the baby and to be able to put on a movie for them. You sighed, sitting on the bean bag with the baby as the kids watched Finding Nemo.

Jack sits next to you, rubbing the baby's hand. "I heard the noise, figured I'd come check before they killed you," he whispered, making you chuckle.

"You're a lifesaver, Jack, really. You're good with them too, you and Sasha ever think of.."

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, at least not yet."

You nod, smiling. "You'd be wonderful parents.. but you should go join the party, I'm okay in here."

"You're sure?" He gets up and you nod. "Go on, I'll come out in a bit." Jack smiles, nodding before he walks out and closes the door behind him.

It was about an hour later that Finding Nemo ended and the kids went looking for their parents. Those with kids ended up heading out, saying their goodnights before the party actually picks up.

You make your way into the kitchen to find Jack looking for something. "Missing something?" You asked, picking up a glass.

"Your brother said he had shot glasses somewhere?"

"Check the bottom cabinet, it should be in there. What are we drinking?" You asked, setting your empty glass back down.

"Whatever will get us drunk fast." He laughs and you smile, "you're just like me," you nudged his shoulder, reaching for the bottle of tequila on the counter.

Jack lines the empty shot glasses on the tray you found, letting you fill them up. The man picks one up before handing another one to you. "To.. the holidays!" He shrugs, tapping his glass to yours before you two down the shots, and two more rounds after that.

You send him on his way, the man dancing his way over to his girlfriend. You on the other hand, picked up the tray and made the rounds, offering shots to all of those who wanted them. Eventually, you find your way to the living room, the music playing in the background as some people danced and the others chatted.

"Pebbles!" Kyle shouts, his hand in the air to call you over. You roll your eyes, walking over to the group of men by the couch. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, walks?" You laughed.

Kyle puts an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're pebbles cause Johnny is Stones and you're the little one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Very original, Kyle. Anyone want a shot?" You offered, holding the tray out.

John takes one, passing another one to Ruben who you've yet to look at. Kyle grabs one for himself and you go to walk away but your brother grabs your arm, bringing you back. John's arm is over your shoulder now, pulling you into his side.

"Have one with us! You're grown up now, aren't you?" He teased, nudging you to take a shot with them. You and John were only a few years apart; he was 29 and you were 24.

You nod, picking up a shot glass. "Cheers!" Kyle shouts over the music, the 4 of you tapping your glasses together before downing the contents.

Some of the tequila ended up on your fingers during the toast, your finger instinctively ended up between your lips and you don't miss the feeling of Ruben's eyes on you. Looking up, your eyes meet his and you move your hand.

"Can I go now?" You asked your brother, and he nodded before kissing your temple. "You're free to go. Go eat something before you feel sick though."

"Should take your own advice, Stones." You tell him and he tosses you a glare. "Whatever, pebbles."

Kyle and John laugh at the use of the nickname and you flip them both off, laughing as you walk away.

The night turned out to be good, you ended up hanging out with Jack and Sasha for a bit before Kyle pulled you to dance with him. He was telling John he knows how to waltz, he just needed a good partner. You were confused as to what made you qualify as a good partner but you went along with it.

At this point, everyone had left and whoever was left, was drunk as fuck and on the verge of passing out.

You slowly make your way upstairs, you have just put away the leftovers and locked the front door for the night. You walked into your room for the night, unzipping your dress as you bent over to pull some pjs out of your bag.

The knob turns and then the door unlocked, someone steps in. "Hello, what the fuck? I'm changing-" you freeze when you turn around to see who it is.

Ruben stood by the door. "It's just me."

"Okay and?" You look at him, confused as to why he's in your room. "Just because it's you, doesn't mean that gives you a right to be in here."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love." He smiles at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when he says that.

"Fuck off, will you?" You turn away from the man, your back to him as you went to get changed for bed.

Ruben doesn't take no for an answer; in life and on the pitch. He walks over to you, "don't be like that, y/n. You know I miss you," his hand rests on your hip, pulling you to him.

It was so easy for him - your mind is screaming no but your body's betraying you, giving into him before you could stop yourself.

"You don't miss me, Ruben. Shut up." You whispered, the man lowered his lips to your neck. A trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your jaw, you're certain there's red marks all over your neck from his beard scratching on you.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his face, your palm's warm against his skin; there your body goes, betraying you again.

"I miss you, I do," he whispers against your skin, his hand sliding between the two of you, from your hip to your back. The fact that your dress was unzipped gave him free rein, his fingers running along your spine, finally resting on the curve of your spine.

"Rubes-" you breathe, feeling him suck on the sensitive spot on your neck. "We can't."

He nods, "we can."

"John could walk in."

The thought made Ruben chuckle. Yes, it'd be a mess, it would get both of you in a lot of trouble but the fact that you, at your grown age, were scared of your older brother catching you with his friend, was funny to him.

"John's passed out drunk on the couch, sweetheart. No one's coming, it's just me and you."

You turn to face the man, Ruben's chest to yours; the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the black fabric tight on his arms and the sleeve were rolled up to his elbows. Was he always such a slut or did he only recently become one?

He's already pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you don't stop him, letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles.

Ruben's hands reach for your face, cupping your jaw. "C'mon baby, I miss you." He whispers into the quiet room, his lips ghosting over yours.

Hands wrapping around his wrists, "I miss you too." You admit, giving into him. You pull Ruben into you, kissing him.

It doesn't take long, the two of you stumbling back to the bed. Ruben ends up on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he moves you to lay properly. He pulls away from your kiss and your wandering hands, earning him a pout.

"Why'd you stop?" You groaned, Ruben smiles at you whining as he stands, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before taking it off.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the man. "Mhm, all for me?" You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh.

"Everything's for you, baby. It always is." He tells you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The words and his actions made your head spin, you were constantly swooning over the man and today was no exception.

Ruben's lips were soft, the faintest of kisses trailed up from your calf to your thigh and he let your leg hang over his shoulder as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Ruben drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 

"Please," you mumble, looking down at the man. Ruben smiles, "not in the mood for teasing, sweetheart?"

"Fuck you Ruben," you groaned, dropping back into the mattress when he pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy but his hand reaches up, pushing two fingers in your mouth. He didn’t have to tell you, your tongue laps over his fingers. 

“Taught you well,” he smiles, pulling his fingers away from your mouth. 

He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Rube, please.” Your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Ruben fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire. Everything about him made you want him, you couldn't explain the attraction.

It just made sense to you.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

Ruben knew you like the back of his hand, even with the time apart. Something didn't change and the way your hips buck, it's your way of saying you want more, who was Ruben not to give into you?

His fingers curl upwards once again and he glances up to see your head tossed back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 

Ruben pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 

"What the fuck?" You groaned, an arm over your face. If you looked at Ruben right now, you might kill him.

The clink of his belt gets your attention - maybe you'd finally get what you wanted.

Ruben scoots you back, getting on the bed, on top of you. He leans down, his lips over yours and you reach up, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you can taste yourself on his lips. He lifts your leg, resting on your hip before he lines himself up with you.

The way the tip of his cock rubbed against you and the fact that you were already on the edge from before was enough to make you beg.

"Please, Ruben."

"Please what?" He looks down at you, smiling sweetly.

Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. "Ruben," you whined, lifting your hips towards him. "Please, fuck- god just fuck me already."

Ruben smiles, "those words really shouldn't be in the same sentence, you know." He tells you, pushing into you. You moan, ignoring his words at the moment.

Your hand wraps around his bicep, your manicured nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the pain, especially if it was your doing.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, Ruben's thrusts were slow and deep- you can feel him everywhere, his hands, his lips, his touch. Everything about Ruben was consuming; he knew that and he loved it.

In some sick way, he loved watching you fall in love with him all over again, seeing the effect he had on you.

Ruben pulls your legs back up to his hip. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder.

How you wished you could scream his name right now.

His hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips. Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Ruben leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you have to be quiet, you don't want everyone to know what a whore you are, do you?”

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. He holds you, managing to flip you two over so that you're on top and his cock is still buried in you.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure.

“Ruben, god-” you mumble, your hand tangled in his dark hair as you bounced up and down.

"Not quite," he whispers, pulling you down to kiss along your neck. Ruben's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back. "Mhm I love you." He whispers into your shoulder.

You huff, "shut up, don't ruin this for me." Ruben laughs, "whatever you say, baby. I do."

"I'm so thirsty," you get off of him, yawning.

Ruben looks over at you, "you want another round?" You roll your eyes, "not what I meant, you freak."

You get up, pulling on his shirt and a pair of shorts. Ruben lays in bed, watching as you buttoned it up. "Don't look at me like that." You tell him and he laughs, "like what, love?"

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I just did," he smiles. You roll your eyes again, something you did often in his presence. "I'm going to get water," you tell him before heading down the stairs.

When your brother hears the creaking on the stairs, he sits up, rubbing his eyes before looking over in your direction. "Y/n?"

"Johnny?" You freeze, looking at him.

"Whose shirt is that?" He asks and you look down at the black button up. "Uh, mine."

John nods, dropping down onto the couch once again. You grab the bottle of water, walking back into the living room to toss the blanket over your brother. You lean down, kissing his head before turning to head back towards the stairs.

He reaches out from under the blanket, grabbing your hand to stop you. "You better get Ruben out of my house before I get up, or I'll kill him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you tell him and your brother lets go of your hand, a sly smile on his face. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you two should shut up next time, or don't do it in my house? Perhaps don't wear a shirt that reeks of his cologne."

"Shut up, go back to sleep," you push him back into the couch before walking away.

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

#ruben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x reader #john stones x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut #merry smutmas xoxo

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

look, first of, thank you SO MUCH for that jason x apollo!reader??? i just- i melted. i blushed with WORDS ON A SCREEN. just…. yeah. so, uh, can i ask you hcs about leo and apollo!reader and she’s like super amazing with healing and he’s always getting hurt just so she can heal him? tysm! (live laugh love leo valdez)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ leo valdez x daughter of apollo! reader hcs

content: leo valdez x daughter of apollo! reader hcs warning: language, like a tiny ass allusion to sexual things but im hella reaching with this one author's note: live laugh love leo valdez is so real. new slogan. new motto. new manifestation. with how much i typically struggle with apollo kid reader ANYTHING this one actually was so fun and i genuinely enjoy it. so cute.

mr. 'constantly getting little nicks on his hands' and ms. 'ability to heal but you will get sass for being an idiot'

at first, leo truly was just being clumsy and will was constantly busy, which means you got the son of hephaestus

but then he started to fall in love with your lecturing and your laugh and you smile and the way your nose twitches while you heal and-

well, basically, he fell in love with allll of you

so then he started doing little things on purpose

nothing too crazy (except that one time he 'attempted' the rock climbing wall and got hit in the head with a rock. looking back, he does regret that one seeing as he got a concussion that you refused to heal)

mostly just paper cuts and bruises from nyssa throwing wrenches at him (he paid her once bc he hadn't seen you yet that day. he had the biggest wrench shaped welt on his back for WEEKS. he never offer that to her again.)

at some point, will stopped fill one of the beds in your section of the infirmary, knowing at some point leo would waltz in and fake a pout and present his injury and demand to be healed by you and you only

and you'd roll your eyes and scold the boy about that fact that he's supposed to avoid jason's sword, but you couldn't hide your beaming smile

something about being an apollo kid is that your smiles were kinda hard to hide

they were always just so bright and so distinctly love filled

especially when they were directed at the person you like

which sadly was leo, your clumsy and constant patient

also, i know he's playing up every injury and everything just to get you to laugh

"what is it this time, valdez?" you ask, jutting your hip out and glaring at him with a smile

"well, you see, i was just walking around the woods, doing my thing and looking super cool and hot and all that. and then, out of nowhere, this piece of paper just shot out and cut my poor precious hand. said some crazy things too, definitely racist. keep an eye for that paper. and, like, i need my hands to work, because how can i work if my hands are all mangled-

"you have a paper cut, leo-"

"some doctor you are, im clearly dying."

"get out."

"hey! you better not charge my insurance for this-"

"GET OUT! OR ILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO GET HEAL!"

"OKAY OKAY IM GOING JEEZ"

so cute, stop why am i smiling???

shut up, it was a moment of weakness

and then, one day leo didn't come into the infirmary

you stood at the door, rapidly tapping your pen against your clipboard, watching as the clock ticked by

"what, no lover boy today?" will taunted as he walked past, smiling as you glared at him

"hey, next time you sneak nico in and have to hide him in the medical closet, tell him not to bump into the bandages," you threw back, instantly locking your eyes back to the clock as the tapping of your pen increased

"you're no fun," will hissed and walked away as his blush grew up his neck

"you still have to clock out even if he doesn't come!" will shouts over his shoulder as he continues to walk

"but-"

"no. clock out or ill give you a reason to stay, but this time on one of those beds."

"whatever," you muttered under your breath, frowning as the end of your shift came.

"WAIT WAIT IM HERE WAIT-" leo yelled as he came skidding into the infirmary. he was heaving and struggling to breath, slumping against the doorway

you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, clearly having run the whole way from bunker nine here

and you fell just a tiny bit more in love

"cmon," you said, nodding your head towards the back of the infirmary before leading the way.

leo followed, desperately looking at his arms to see if he could find any tiny scratch to blame his visit on

naturally, there was nothing.

shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shi-

"what's his problem? it better be something good, y/n, because you were supposed to clock out-"

"head injury. big ol' bonk on the head from that dragon of yours. right, leo?" you attempted to lie, looking over at leo for help

the daughter of truth was naturally a terrible liar and will could see right through her.

"yeah, yeah. he's fiesty sometimes. doesn't like oil changes," leo added, both him and y/n looking at will with pleading eyes to let them stay

"...five minutes and then i don't want to see either of you in here for the rest of the day," will replied, squinting at the both of them for a few seconds before taking his leave

"nice lie," leo mused and you beamed a smile at him as you sat down on the edge of his medical bed

"yeah?"

"no. i think i a blind person could see straight through that lie. but good effort."

"you just lost healing privileges for a week," you gasped out, slapping an arm against his shoulder with a shake of your head

"can i still visit?" leo questioned, a knowing smile on his lips. like he was plotting something. which left you hesitant to answer

"...i dont see why not."

"good. i couldn't got a week without seeing such a pretty girl."

"w-well, clearly i didn't need to lie. you must have a head injury," you quickly got out, taking his head into your hands and pretending to inspect it but it was really just to force his vision away from you face so you could blush in peace

"kiss it better?" leo offered as you pulled his head back to be level with yours

leo enjoyed the shuttered breath that left your lips more than he should have, enjoying the minor panic hidden behind your eyes

without another word, the two of you met in the middle

it was a gentle kiss, bordering on hesitant

your lips were just barely brushing each other until leo pushed a little further, solidifying it

you couldn't help but fight back, the kiss turning more fervent with every second that passed

it surely would have ended with clothes tossed everywhere had you too not been cut off by your dear brother

"TIMES UP. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY INFIRMARY!"

"YOU DON'T OWN THE PLACE!"

"THAT'S IT, GET BACK HERE, IM BREAKING EVERY BONE IN YOUR HAND AND ILL NAME THEM WHILE I DO IT, YOU LITTLE SHIT-"

"I NEED MY HANDS TO WORK- HEY, STOP, LET GO, NO NOT THE PINKY WAIT-"

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

[moncherellie]

water polo player! abby

a/n: hey!! i know i said id be posting for ellie first but this thought hasn't left me for a month. i love the though of this oh my god i am feral. thanks for reading! rb or comment to support a lil fic author :) also i'm gonna be referring to water polo as a super gay sport and that's because it is xoxo i mean high contact with buff women. like.

-content/warnings: 1.4k, mentions of contact sport violence, smut scenes (strap, riding abby, nickname 'beautiful', semipublic sex in a locker room, fingering, oral (both receiving), gn reader but has a pussy, mentions of roughhousing in water/ drowning (not really drowning but yk)

men dni.

water polo is one of the most intense sports- it's high contact, rough, with a high probability of being punched, getting a black eye, etc

but when you're as buff as ms abby anderson here, it's not as big of a deal

there aren't really many set positions in wp, but the most important one is center- placed front-and-center of the goal, they're the person everyone looks to to get a good shot

center has to be dependable, strong, and fast

abby is perfect! her drive is amazing (ahem ahem) and she's constantly swimming like crazy to get into position so her team can rely on her

she started in high school, learning the ropes and getting to know the sport

got crazy good, and was definitely a very proud varsity athlete. she knows she's good, so why shouldn't she flaunt a bit?

im gonna be honest she absolutely wore her varsity jacket for way too long during freshman year in college

she joined her collegiate team (possibly on a small grant/scholarship) and met the most amazing team

it's hard to be queer in sports a lot of the time, but her entire team is queer/allied!! she has a space to be herself which she really appreciates

she blossoms on that team

every girl at her college absolutely drops their panties for her im not even kidding. its not even that fun to her because she just wants someone to love, not just a hookup

((that doesn't mean she rejects them all though))

the pretty center draws crowds to the natatorium

and that includes you, of course

you're a friend of the goalie and you're not all that into sports, but once you hear that the hot girl you've been thirsting over in org. chem is there?? it's all over, goodBYE

you are seated right in the action, front row of the bleachers, cheering in school colors, pretty eyes glimmering in the bright sun, sweat drops dripping down the front of your shirt

abby is fully focused on her game but when she's benched she gets a liiiiiittle distracted ngl

like i said though, she's mostly game face

but after a win? she feels like she's never lost. she's pure confidence and she decides to keep the streak going and see if she can successfully get your number

it's slightly awkward because when abby gets closer she sees that wow you are so much more attractive than she first thought when she had chlorine water in her eyes

so she just doesn't ask you out lolol she bails and bugs the goalie about you for the week leading up to the game, asking who you are, if you're coming next time, if you like this or that

her hands are so large and strong from gripping that ball... just imagine what they could be used for !

her thighs are absolutely massive- she has to stay above the water somehow, and the kicking she has to do has sculpted her into a thunder-thigh goddess

eating her out is insane because she fucking clamps down on your head with her thighs LMAO

broad shoulders that you can hold while riding her

strong shoulders that you grip and squeeze onto for dear life every night before a game as she plows into you for "good luck"

-the room is filled with the rhythmic slapping of her skin against your thighs as she grips your hips and bucks up into you.

"taking it so well for me, huh? my little good luck charm..." and you can't say anything. you just whine as you feel every muscle in her body working overtime to treat you just right

the veins in her forearms throb and pop out as she bounces you up and down, touching and squeezing and groping everywhere she can. she looks up at you cheekily, biting her lips and grinning. "there we go, beautiful, look 't you go"

"i'll be sore tomorrow" she says. it isn't a complaint. she says it's her favorite workout

yeah she says she's done but she's also finger fucking you in the locker room during half-time

-"sorry coach, i'll be quick, i promise!" abby lifts herself out of the pool with pure upper body strength, muscles tensing and water dripping off her like some kind of lesbian wet dream. when she promises haste, she means you'll be quick, because you know the drill. you're already amongst the rows of lockers as abby pushes you against them, sliding past your underwear and shoving her fingers in. her thumb is on your clit, middle and ring fingers finding your g-spot immediately and going at it relentlessly. "think you can do 5 minutes for me, beautiful?

-you can because she won't accept anything else. you're cumming all over her fingers, groaning at the overstimulation as she fucks you through it. when you're done, she pulls out, inserting her fingers into her mouth and cleaning them. you shoot her a playful dirty look as she jogs back out the locker room door

-"thanks for the pep talk, babe!" girl.

she wins every game and says it's because of you

it's sweet, but she's just that good of an athlete

but if you met her because you play too? oh get ready for a whole 'nother world

you're her defense during practice, in the trenches with her and jumping over her shoulders to make sure she doesn't get the ball

but she'll do petty shit to fluster you, like turning and kissing your shoulder and holding your hand in the middle of wrestling for position like ???

-"anderson!" the team captain reprimands. she gives a cheeky smile and puts her game face back on, pinching your thigh underwater where nobody can see

water polo players' love language is straight up drowning people. like the coach yells for everyone to meet him in the corner of the pool and instead she's fucking barrelling toward you, wanting to pull you under

when you're waiting to practice throwing the ball into the goal, she'll slide under the surface and tug at your ankles to pull you

when you come back up, she's giggling like a child and acting like it was another teammate

-"abby, i know it was you, you idiot!" you say, grinning

despite not really having jerseys like in other sports, abby will have you wear her team merch with logos

you wear last year's team shirt to bed, her flannel pants to class, her two-piece tops when you go to the beach with her

you go crazy for her when she's in her polo suit. they're tight so that players can't get grabbed, but it's tight in all the right places

it showcases abby's broad shoulders and slutty waist, curving around her chest and tastefully contouring her back muscles

thank god for this sport, you think

she always complains about how the suit rides up her butt, giving her a slight wedgie, but it gives you perfect access to her tight ass

smacksmacksmack

-"can you hold off for one minute, babe?"

-"no."

it's like there's no person attached to that ass. and she's just as obsessed with yours dw! she uses those big hands to grasp your entire cheek and land a harsh slap! on there that makes you jump. she just smiles n laughs

water polo! abby who takes you out to dinner after games and ends up stealing your food because "ohmygodbabeimsohungryyoudontevenunderstand"

it's like she's never eaten

speaking of eating... (im sorry)

she will throw your legs open when she eats you out. if you try to shut them she'll use the full force of her forearms to pin your thighs down and dig her face deeper in your pussy, sucking and licking like a woman starved

who wrote that. i didn't. anyways..

you put her hair up in a fishtail braid for her !! then she'll ask you to put her swim cap on and give you a cute smile when you screw it up

-"i fucked it up! sorry!"

-"babe it looks great" while she's tucking all her shorter hairs into the bottom of it

if her team is winning by a lot, she'll mess around a bit and point at you after she scores a goal, and you roll your eyes and your face feels hot because she's so ridiculous

but you do feel a lil special.

anyways water polo abby mi amor :3333 take me in the locker room

#abby andedrson x reader #tlou x reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x reader flluff #tlou2 #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x gn reader #gender neutral #abby anderson smut #wlw #moncherellie writing #the last of us 2 fic

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (4)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Four

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: A week has gone by since your late night secret with Seonghwa. You kept telling yourself to not entertain the idea of anything more than a one night stand. But Wooyoung, as always, throws a wrench in your plans.

WC: 4.4k

CW: Suggestive towards the end, kissing, touching, lots of teasing, Wooyoung is a cockblock, fluff, cuddles

AN: I spent a whole day writing this, my body hurts, my brain hurts, but I wanted to get this chapter done so badly. I hope you all enjoy it.

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @becauseilovedyou @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi

“Hey guys,” Wooyoung said as he entered the living room. “I have an idea for something we can all do.”

The announcement shouldn’t have filled you with fear, but it did.

The week was a roller coaster, if you had to be honest. You’d wanted to keep your interactions with Seonghwa to a minimum, only talking to him if he talked to you, only if you absolutely needed to.

And it felt like torture.

You wanted to talk to him, you wanted to be nice, you wanted to sit with him and have long conversations about anything and everything. You wanted to give him hugs like Wooyoung did.

But you were scared of what would happen if you let yourself do that. If you fell deeper into him. If your lust for him turned to something more than sex.

You weren’t ready to confront that. Despite Wooyoung constantly dragging you with him to do anything, and “coincidentally” always having Seonghwa be there too, you didn’t think it was something beyond Wooyoung wanting to spend time with you. And of course, you were going to spend time with Wooyoung, so you were in a difficult spot.

And yet, the whole time you were trying to subtly avoid him, Seonghwa wasn’t dumb. And unfortunately, he was more observant than you’d thought he was.

And he hated to admit that he thought about it every time he laid down to sleep. He’d lay in his bed for hours and think about you. About the night you had together.

The way you’d look away when he tried to talk to you, the slight red tint in your cheeks when he’d call you “dear” or “sweetheart,” the little tremor in your voice when you talked to him. He was hopelessly attracted to you, and he knew you felt the same way about him.

And you both were battling with your desires in your own ways.

If only you knew that the gorgeous man you were daydreaming about was doing the same thing just one wall away.

You force a sweet smile at Wooyoung as you come back to the present. Seonghwa also looks up at him.

“Eomma, you know that restaurant you’d take me to as a kid?”

Seonghwa smiled and shook his head. “I’ve taken you to many restaurants.”

“The really expensive one that we went to for special occasions?”

“What’s the occasion?” You wondered. In the back of your mind, you wondered if Wooyoung was about to reveal his “relationship” with San to his mother. But the smirk Wooyoung was giving you shot that theory down quickly.

“Isn’t our presence enough of an occasion?” He answered, standing up straighter, puffing out his chest a little. Seonghwa laughed and shook his head again.

“Your presence is always an occasion, nae sarang, but I can’t just take you. That place-”

“Requires reservations,” Wooyoung interrupted, finishing his sentence. “Well what if I told you I already took care of that?”

You and Seonghwa both blinked, not completely believing him. You had no idea where this was going, or what restaurant they could possibly be talking about. Even if you did know the name, it wouldn’t have helped, because you could never afford to go to a restaurant nicer than Olive Garden.

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa started, in the signature disappointed parent tone that said everything without having to say it. The tone that meant “you shouldn’t have done that.” But it didn’t dissuade Wooyoung in the slightest.

“Come on, why not? I haven’t been there in a long time, and it’s something we can all do together.” He put extra emphasis on the word “together.”

You turned your attention to Seonghwa, and he was looking at Wooyoung with nothing but love in his eyes, with a little smile on his lips. He knew that no matter what excuse he made up, he was going to relent. He was going to say yes, because there was no reason to say no.

Part of him wanted to see how serious Wooyoung was. Part of him wanted to see what else Wooyoung was up to. He had his suspicions, but couldn’t tell for certain.

“What day do you have this reserved?” Seonghwa asked, tilting his head back a little.

“Tonight,” Wooyoung said proudly. “The perfect night to go out to eat.”

Time had started to warp and bend for you since you were thr0wn off your usual schedule, but Wooyoung had mentioned to you earlier that it was a Saturday. You realized now why he bothered to point it out.

Seonghwa still pretended to roll the idea over in his head. Both you and Wooyoung knew he was faking it based on his smile, but you two were still waiting with bated breath for his answer.

And finally, Seonghwa sighed and nodded. “Okay, when do we have to be there?”

Wooyoung did a little happy dance and squealed. You smiled and sighed in relief.

You didn’t feel so scared about the idea of going to dinner with Seonghwa knowing Wooyoung was going to be there. You’d have to throw together a decent outfit from the clothes that you brought, but you were sure you could do it.

And that’s what you did. About an hour before you were going to leave, you had taken a shower and made yourself look nice before you went to sort through your clothes. Just a simple outfit, but it still made you look put together. It wasn’t luxury, but it would pass decently for an hour or so.

As you were going to leave the room, there was a knock on the door. When you called for them to come in, Wooyoung peeked in. He took one look at your outfit and shook his head.

“No, that’s not gonna work.” He left and went back into his room. You followed him, befuddled.

“What do you mean, I look fine!” You protested, but Wooyoung was already going through his closet to look for something better. He frantically grabbed at different clothes, looking them over, and rejecting most of them.

“Fine isn’t good enough, this is a high class restaurant.” Wooyoung pulled out a shirt that he was satisfied with and tossed it onto a nearby chair. “Thankfully, your awesome best friend is here to help you.”

You sighed and looked at his outfit. He wore black slacks with a belt, with a white button up tucked into the shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his arms. This was the nicest you’d ever seen Wooyoung in the entirety of your time knowing him, Wooyoung never dressed up for anything. Not even to the formal events your college hosted.

Realizing that, you decided to listen to him and accept the clothes. You let Wooyoung dress you in the outfit he’d picked, and he helped fit and adjust it so it looked good on you. He accessorized you as well, with a couple of necklaces and rings.

You had to admit, when Wooyoung was done with you, you looked much better than you did before. Much more worthy of a fancy restaurant dinner.

Wooyoung also put a coat over your shoulders. “To match the outfit,” he commented.

“I have a jacket, Wooyoung.”

“Not one that goes with your clothes.” You rolled your eyes, but buttoned up the coat regardless. He had a point, sure, but you mostly just wanted him to shut up.

You and Wooyoung made your way to the front door and waited for Seonghwa.

“How do you have all these nice clothes anyway?” You asked, remembering that you never asked what Seonghwa did for work. With his nice house and Wooyoung’s extensive wardrobe, he had to be doing something amazing.

“My mom is a model,” Wooyoung says nonchalantly, looking at his phone.

Oh. Of course he was.

“What does he model for?”

“Mostly shoes, but he does a lot of other stuff. He has a couple deals for a few different luxury brands.”

Of course he does.

As you were about to continue, you heard a bedroom door close, and the familiar click of heels across the hardwood and down the stairs.

Your breath caught in your throat as Seonghwa came down the stairs. Good Lord, he looked fucking stunning.

He’d dressed himself in black slacks, a white, long sleeved turtleneck, and heels. Heels.

His silky black hair was curled and fell down in beautiful waves, his bangs framing his face perfectly. A few gold chains hung from his neck and rings on his fingers. He’d even put on makeup, with small wings by his eyes and sparkly eyeshadow, with sparkly, glossy, pink lips.

You had a sudden urge to kiss him.

You knocked yourself out of your daze when Seonghwa came over to the door. “Are we ready to go?” He asked as he reached into the closet for a coat.

Wooyoung pushed off the couch, already having a coat like you did. “Yeah, we-” And then his phone began to ring. “Oh-Sorry, let me take this.”

Wooyoung took a few steps away as he answered the call. “Hey. Oh, no. Oh, that sucks. Do you want me to come help? Yeah, I can come over. I’ll be there soon. Okay, bye.”

“Who was that?” Seonghwa asked, fixing his coat, which was white and fluffy, and long enough to cover his entire body, leaving it open. You tried to focus your attention on Wooyoung instead, who was putting his phone into his coat pocket.

“A friend from college, he needs me to come over.”

You had a strong feeling who that “friend” was.

“What happened?” You asked, but Wooyoung was already making his way to the door hurriedly. You grabbed onto his arm to stop him, and as he looked at you, you could see in his eyes that he was scared.

There was genuine fear there. Your stomach suddenly filled with dread wondering what could’ve happened to this unnamed “friend.”

“I’ll explain later, I just really have to go.” He pulled his arm out of your grip and opened the door. “I’m sorry, you two should still go enjoy dinner!”

“Wait, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa tried to stop him, but Wooyoung was already gone.

And you and Seonghwa were alone. As the silence stretched on, another realization dawned on you.

You were about to go to a restaurant and have dinner with Seonghwa. Alone.

“Well,” Seonghwa began. “Do you still want to go?”

“Yes,” you blurted, way sooner than you wanted to. Seonghwa’s lips curved up into a smirk.

“You don’t have to hide it anymore, sweetie. He’s gone.”

Your heart stops and you can feel sweat break out all over your body. Of course he knew, of course he’d seen how you were avoiding him and being shy around him. But you weren’t prepared for him to confront you about it.

And all that you can say is a soft, strangled, “What?” Seonghwa laughed softly and closed the gap between you two, standing over you. He made you feel so much smaller than you already were.

And you wanted to grab him. Desire burned in your bones to reach out and hug him, pressing your face into his chest, being safe and happy in his arms, letting the rest of the world fade out.

But you held yourself back, and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. And he was loving the panic in your eyes.

“You can relax. It’s okay.” Seonghwa grabbed your hand and held it gently. “Enjoy this night with me.”

“But Wooyoung-” You tried to argue, but Seonghwa shook his head.

“He’s an adult. He’ll be okay. I’ll leave my phone on if he needs me.” He squeezed your hand gently. “Please. Come with me.”

And who were you to tell him no, when Seonghwa was asking you to go with him?

You followed Seonghwa into the restaurant, and you were already impressed in the first few seconds.

The entrance had little lanterns on the walls with candles inside them, illuminating the small hallway to the hostess stand and the rest of the building. There were large potted plants along the carpeted walkway, and the walls were adorned with large, gorgeous paintings of different landscapes and animals.

You stayed close to Seonghwa, but still far enough away to not touch him. He didn’t allow that, he grabbed onto your hand and laced his fingers with yours. The small gesture made your stomach flip over.

The hostess looked up and smiled at Seonghwa, and she started speaking in Korean. You heard her say “Mr. Park,” but you couldn’t understand anything else. Seonghwa responded, but there was a slight stutter in his voice.

You looked up at him, but before either of you could say anything else, the hostess motioned for you to follow her, and she led you into the dining area.

The dining area had the same theme of decor as the hallway. Dark moody lighting, lanterns, paintings and plants everywhere. The tables ranged in different sizes, from large to small, and nearly all of them were full.

But there was one open small table, with only two chairs with it.

You and Hwa took your seats, removing your coats first and leaving them on the chairs. You turned to Seonghwa and you nearly choked seeing him in the low lighting. Highlighting the bright parts and increasing the shadows, he looked like a character from a movie.

“It’s funny,” Seonghwa began, looking at you. “The reservation was under my name. For only two people.”

Your heart stopped for a second. And then you couldn’t help but laugh.

Wooyoung, the fucking brat. He set you two up. He was never going to come with you two.

Seonghwa laughed too, a soft, beautiful sound. “Did you tell him?”

You shook your head aggressively. “No, he told me not to.” And as soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to you, and chills ran all across your body as when his eyes met yours. A smirk appeared on his lips again.

He was about to make a comment when a server came over and, in Korean, began to speak to Seonghwa. The look on his face disappeared and was replaced with a bright, award winning smile.

And somehow, jealousy began to burn in your bones, seeing the server clearly flirting with Seonghwa. You couldn’t understand what either of them were saying, but the way the server was smiling, giving him half closed eyes, laughing at what he said, it made you angry.

You balled your hands into fists by your sides, trying to keep your face neutral as the conversation went on. It was brief, but it was enough to piss you off.

The server walked away and Seonghwa turned his attention back to you. You forced a small smile and unclenched your fists. Seonghwa smiled back and crossed his arms, leaning on the table. You awkwardly kept your hands in your lap, not knowing what else to do with them.

“I’m sorry you’re getting left out of a lot of conversations. All I did was order for us, I hope you don’t mind what I got.”

“We’ll see when it gets here, won’t we?”

“Of course, we’ll see.”

And silence went over you both. You weren’t sure how to do this. This was less of a simple dinner and more of a date, and you’d been working to avoid this. But now you were sitting in front of him at a luxury restaurant waiting for food.

You had no idea how to fill the gap, since you hadn’t ever planned for this. You could see in Seonghwa’s eyes that he had ideas. But he just watched you.

He delighted in how you squirmed under his gaze. Holding eye contact, but nervously fidgeting and shifting around. Maybe he was just a little bit of a sadist.

“So,” he finally said, sitting up to take a drink of water. You let out a heavy breath and gulped, suddenly needing the water too. “Should I teach you a few words? Just for fun?”

“Sure.” You set the glass back down and put your hands back in your lap, still fidgeting with them. “That sounds fun.” You smiled, but it was weak and forced. Seonghwa was living for your nervousness.

“Okay, first word, eomma. It means ‘mom.’”

“Wooyoung uses that one,” you piped up. “I guessed that’s what it meant.”

“Yeah, that was easy.” He went quiet as he tried to think of more words to teach you, and one popped up in your head.

“What about the one you call Wooyoung?” Seonghwa looked at you, and his smile spread across his whole face.

“‘Nae sarang?’ It means ‘my love’.” His smile made butterflies burst in your stomach.

“That’s cute,” you squeaked out, reaching for the water again. Seonghwa’s eyes sparkled in delight.

“I thought so too,” he mused, leaning back on the table.

He was playing you like a goddamn game and you were falling right into it.

He was teasing you, toying with you. Trying to break you and admit that you wanted him as badly as you knew you did. He saw it all over you, but you refused to admit it.

But he’d made you. He knew he’d make you crumble for him.

“How about another cute one? ‘Jagiya’ means “baby,” like the pet name.”

The looks Seonghwa was giving you while he was teaching you these words was obvious. You knew the game he was playing. And you were powerless to stop it.

“Yeah, it’s cute,” you said softly. Seonghwa moved so he could prop his head up on his hand, under his chin.

“Why don’t you try it? Go on, say it.”

You gave your best attempt at the word, and Seonghwa’s heart fluttered hearing you say it. He was already imagining you calling him that.

And maybe someday, nae sarang.

No. That’s ridiculous. That would never happen. That’s not possible.

But what if it was?

The food came not long later, and the same server from before was the one to deliver it. The server was more bold this time, putting a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder while she spoke to him.

The jealousy bubbled up in you again. Aren’t servers not allowed to touch customers unless it’s an emergency? This had to be a violation of some kind. Could you report the server for being inappropriate? Maybe, but you don’t know how you would.

“Sweetheart?” Seonghwa called softly. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at him. You realized the server was nowhere to be found. How long had you zoned out?

“Sorry, I-”

“If looks could kill, that server would’ve been dead and buried.” He said as he picked up a pair of chopsticks. He spoke so matter-of-factly that it almost sounds like a lecture. Your cheeks burned hot and you looked down at the food, which looked delicious. A noodle based dish. “Go on, try it. I think you’ll like it.

So you did. You struggled with the chopsticks for a bit before you got a hold of them, which Seonghwa found adorably amusing. You grabbed a small bite of the mixture and took a bite.

And he was right, you loved it.

“Oh, this is so good,” you mumbled as you continued to eat, trying to remember your table manners and restrain yourself. Seonghwa could only smile as he watched you.

“I’m glad you like it.”

You both ate with minimal talking. Mostly because you were starving and hadn’t eaten in a long while, and you were loving the food. Seonghwa didn’t mind, because he was happy enough being here with you.

You were adorable. Plain and simple. You were stuck in his head.

Which is why he wanted you to admit that you wanted him to.

You got back into Seonghwa’s car as he did, settling back into the seat.

“Thank you for that, Seonghwa.” You looked over at him. “I really appreciate this. This was really nice.”

“You’re welcome, jagiya.” He started the car and began the drive home. He’d made the drive many times before, with Wooyoung, who had set you both up. It’d be an interesting conversation when you both got home.

You were sitting in the seat beside Seonghwa with your brain shorting out from the pet name. Jagiya. You knew there was a chance he’d use it on you, but it still broke your brain.

“Jagiya?” Seonghwa called softly. He glanced over at you, and he smirked, seeing your eyes glazed over.

Seonghwa placed his hand on your thigh. Gently, very gently. He didn’t move, he just kept his hand there. Just a gentle, steady pressure.

But he felt how your thigh tensed under his hand. He glanced up at your face, and your eyes were wide and clear, but your hands were gripping onto the seat below you.

“Do you want me to stop?” Seonghwa asked softly.

“No,” you blurted.

It shouldn’t have made him so happy to hear that, but he felt the desire bloom in his bones. He gently squeezed your thigh, massaging it.

And it made fire shoot up your leg and all over your body. Your stomach was churning inside you, your head was growing light. You didn’t think you could melt so badly from a simple touch, but you felt like you were actually turning into a puddle in the seat.

Every night, all week, he was in your head. You were thinking about your night together. His hands on your body, his arms around you, how his touch lit you on fire. You craved it more than you knew.

Seonghwa’s hand moved up your thigh, and you couldn’t cover your mouth in time before the whimper fell past your lips. Seonghwa bit his lip at the soft sound.

“I missed you, sweetheart.” His voice had slipped into a deeper octave, something more sensual. “I wanted you back in my bed. Don’t deny it anymore, you wanted it too, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip to stifle the rest of the noises that tumbled out of your mouth. The constant circles he was rubbing into your inner thigh, right next to where you needed him most, mixing with his voice, his confessions, you were a mess.

A mess just like he wanted.

“You wanted me too, jagiya. You thought about me, you wanted me. You wanted me to fuck you again just like I did before.”

Somehow, you were back at the house already. You hadn’t paid attention, how could you? Your brain was wrapped up in Seonghwa, all in him. Just him, and how badly you wanted him again. He was right, of course he was.

He turned to look at you, with his eyes half closed, his hand still on your thigh. He squeezed tighter than he had before.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you, jagiya. Tell me.”

Fuck it.

“I want you to fuck me, Mommy.”

“Good doll.”

You both quickly got out of the car and into the house. You pulled your shoes and coat off, and dropped it onto the couch. You turned to Seonghwa and choked on nothing as he stripped his coat off, tossing it aside, his eyes trained on you.

The only light in the room was a lamp by the door, making him look fucking angelic. An angel here for you.

He grabbed you and pushed you against the wall, his hands on your waist, his body pressed against yours. Your hands locked around his neck and pulled his lips to yours, beginning a messy, passionate kiss, all tongue and teeth.

Desperation clawed at you both like a frantic, wild animal. Seonghwa’s hands wander to your shirt, pulling it up and rubbing up against your skin, his lips traveling down your neck.

“You don’t want to go to bed?” You breathed, gripping onto his pretty silky hair.

“We’ll get there eventually, I need you now.” He gripped onto your waist again, pressing against you harder, almost pushing you up the wall.

Your legs fell open for him almost embarrassingly easily, but all pride had been thrown out the window.

Seonghwa’s hands ran down and grabbed onto your thighs, and you grabbed onto his shoulders, ready to jump into his arms.

Until you both heard the front door open.

You and Seonghwa both immediately jumped away from each other, trying to pretend that you weren’t just all over each other as Wooyoung came in the door.

Seonghwa had gone over to put his coat away, and flashed a fake smile to his son. They exchanged a brief “hi” before Seonghwa tried to cover up the sin you were about to commit.

“We just got home too! Did everything work out with your friend?”

“Oh, yeah.” Wooyoung took off his coat as well, and you couldn’t help but smirk when you saw his messy clothes. His shirt was untucked, his collar wasn’t properly fixed.

And oh, what’s that, just under his jaw? A little bruise. And how would Wooyoung get such a small bruise in a spot like that?

It took everything in you to not burst into giggles knowing exactly where Wooyoung had run off to.

All three of you agreed that everything worked out, everyone pretending they didn’t know anything about each other, before you headed up to your separate bedrooms. Not without you giving a little smirk to Wooyoung.

You’d give him shit in the morning about his dirty little secret. You knew you would.

But you were back in bed, laying awake, thinking about Seonghwa.

Fuck. This was a new level of desperation for you.

And realizing how badly you wanted to be back with him sucked any sexual energy out of you. You just wanted to be in his arms now.

As quietly as you could, you snuck out of your room and went to Seonghwa’s door. You didn’t bother to knock, you couldn’t risk waking up Wooyoung.

You slowly opened the door and slipped inside. Seonghwa was already waiting for you, and happily pulled his blankets back to let you into bed.

You crawled in and laid next to him, putting your head on his chest. He held you tight and close, and finally, what you craved was yours.

“Too risky to continue?” You whispered.

“Too risky,” he whispered back. And that was fine with you.

At least now you had him. You had his arms around you. You were in his bed. He was rubbing your back. Your head was on his chest. And everything felt right. Everything felt good.

Whatever your future held, you knew it would have Seonghwa in it. You would be sure of it. How could you ever let him go?

“Stay with me,” he whispered. “I really did miss you.”

“I missed you too,” you whispered back.

And you stayed.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #seonghwa ff #seonghwa x reader #best friend's mother

[ja3yun]

Rudolph | S.JY

bf!jake x gf!reader

warnings: suggestive, fluff, lap dance (it's unserious), they're cringy and in love, not proofread anything else lmk!

wc: 2.2k+

synopsis: jake gets a secret santa present from work and he wants to show you what he got, giving you a present of your own.

a/n: hi! this is just a short, fluffy, unserious one shot for xmas. i was intending to make this smutty but i left it where it is because i got lazy. anyway, happy holidays from mine to yours <3 i hope santa is good to you.

“FREEDOM!” Jake bursts through the door, his voice booming across your shared flat, “Out of office is on, alarms are off, Christmas is upon us, and I am free for the next 2 glorious weeks.” 

It’s finally the 23rd of December which means Jake has finished up work for the holiday period. After a year of working countless overtime, he was never more thankful for this time off.

You look up from the couch and smile widely, matching his excitement, “Did you get away early?” It’s not like him to come home this time of the day, which is sad because it’s 6pm.

“Mhm, the boss had a thing with his in-laws so he wrapped everything up quickly and told us to get lost” Jake imitates wrapping a present and tying a bow before pretending to kick it away as he speaks, your boyfriend was always so animated when he was excited.

He places the shoes he slipped off in the caddy and replaces them with his bell ringing elf slippers. To say Jake loved Christmas would be the understatement of the century. The 2 weeks off were lush, that’s true, but the whole season was so precious to him. Everyone was happier than usual, he could eat and drink as much as he wanted and just use the excuse ‘it’s Christmas’, and he got to spend time with you.

Unfortunately, you don’t have the luxury of a paid holiday but you always get at least 4 days in a row work free which is a rarity. Those 4 days you never ever take for granted.

Spying a red and gold gift bag at his feet piques your curiosity, “Ooh did you buy me something?” 

Jake scoffs and skips over to you with it in hand, “Eh, excuse me, I am actually liked in my work and someone got me a gift.” He held his head proud before sitting down next to you.

“Right, you mean you got your Secret Santa present today that your boss forces on you every year?” You lift your eyebrows waiting for him to respond.

“Well yeah, but mandatory or not,” He waves the bag in your face, “I got a present.” 

Swatting it away, your eyes roll as you smile. He looked proud as punch to have gotten something, “Did you open it?”

“Do pigeons fly in the sky? Of course I opened it.” Traditionally, you’re supposed to wait until the 25th to open any gift but it wasn't going to be gold, frankincense, or myrrh, so big boy Jesus in the sky isn’t going to care if presents are opened before his birthday.

“So what did you get?” You try to sneak a look in the bag but he pulls it away and tuts.

“I got the usual, socks, a festive tie, sample bottles of whiskey, and,” A smirk graces his face when he remembers what else he got, “Actually, there might be a present for you in here.”

Puzzled, you eye the bag up once again but he stands up, “I’ll be right back, baby.” Leaving a peck on your lips he dashes out, gift bag in hand, waddling like a kid about to show his parents his new drawing from school. Jake was so cute you could cry.

After a few minutes you hear the jingle from his slippers once again, “Okay, baby close your eyes,” your overly excited boyfriend shouts from the bathroom, “close them tight!” His voice is filled with glee.

“They’re shut!” Shouting back, you wonder what it could be. All you hear is the sound of his slippers trotting towards you and all you can do is laugh. 

Once you feel his presence standing in front of you, the urge to open your eyes is too much to resist, so you peek one open. 

Jake is standing there with his arms spread wide and mouth with the biggest cheeser you’ve ever seen, “Ta-da!” He wiggles his hips to drag your focus down and you cannot believe what you are seeing.

An eruption of laughter fills the room as you double over, your chest losing all ability to breathe at the sight in front of you. Jake laughs along with you, “Good, right?”

Jake stands there in nothing but his elf slippers and a g-string which has his cock tucked into a pouch that’s designed to be Rudolph’s face. The novelty underwear is not at all what you were expecting and you still can’t string a word together for the hilarity of it all.

He turns around to showcase the thong aspect of his underwear, “I do think this finally shows that I have an ass.” In any other circumstance, you probably would make a sarcastic quip about how he’s never going to beat the flat ass allegations but you can’t even look at him, burying your face in the couch seat next to you.

Not helping the situation at all he starts flexing his muscles like he’s in some body building contest, “Do you like it?” His eyes are shining as he looks down at you, your happiness and laughter will always be his favourite thing to witness, even if it means embarrassing himself like this for you. Although, truth be told, he isn’t embarrassed at all, he never is when he’s with you.

“Who bought you that?” You wheeze out, trying to regain some composure.

“I don’t know, it’s a secret Santa, remember.” He has a suspicion it’s either Jay or Sunghoon but it’s one and the same, he’ll find out eventually. 

Poking the red nose at the tip of his cock you howl when it lights up, “Oh my fucking god.”

“I didn’t even know it did that! How cool.” If his smile gets any wider his face will split in half. You look so fascinated by it, your hands guide him to twist around and showcase his butt again, “See what I mean with the ass? I’ve got cake.”

Slapping his left butt cheek you laugh, “Yeah, yeah.” It’s Christmas so just like some people believe in Santa, you’ll let him believe he’s double cheeked up.

“Want another surprise?” Jake wiggles his eyebrows and leans down to kiss you, lips soft and gentle against yours. Placing one of his hands on your face he grins widely before pulling away, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, “Yes or no?” 

“Yeah, I do.” He plants one more kiss on your lips and walks away, leaving you time to take in your boyfriend’s body. Someone so lovely and goofy shouldn’t also be graced with such a gorgeous body. He’s the perfect package.

Music infiltrates your ears as the melody of Nat King Cole’s ‘The Christmas Song’ blares from your hi-fi. Jake seductively walks back to you, his eyes narrower than before, “Sit back and feel free to tip me.”

Oh god, “Sim Jaeyun you are NOT giving me a lapdance in that thong.” He cannot be serious, Nat King Cole nor Rudolph deserve this.

His hands run down his body and his teeth take hold of his bottom lip, “C’mon, baby, let me take it for a ride.” 

Lap dances weren't something you guys did a lot of, most of the time it was you just showing off your new bra and panty sets, so to see him eagerly swing his hips and offer you one, you can’t really refuse.

Taking your hands, he puts them on his chest and guides them down to his toned tummy. Whoever sculpted him in their lab must have had you in mind because he was everything you could have asked for. You keep your hands on his v-line and claw at each side slightly, he loves to be scratched like this.

Jake’s cock twitches at your action and it makes Rudolph jerk up, causing another laugh to leave you. Your boyfriend is too caught up in the feeling of your hands on him that he doesn’t even register what you’re laughing at, “Hmm?”

“Rudolph’s getting a bit excited,” You say smiling, staring at the garment.

“I heard he likes to be petted.” Jake jokes, wiggling his cock in your face. 

Looking into the wide eyes of the pouch as it moves from side to side is actually quite unsettling, like he’s pleading for help to be off your boyfriend's penis, something you can’t relate to, “Jake please you’re giving Rudolph whiplash.”

Stilling his hips he takes your left hand and puts it over his clothed member, waiting for you to stroke down, but when you don’t he pouts, “You’re going to make him sad.”

“This is supposed to be my present.” You state, removing your hand and sitting back, “I’m still waiting for it.” 

Jake smirks because you’re playing his game back to him. Honestly, he’s so lucky to have you, someone who just goes with whatever the flow is, not taking anything too seriously, he loves you so much for that. Continuing his previous task he puts his hands on your knees and strokes up your thighs, his eyes not leaving yours. The booty shorts you’re wearing leave your skin bare to receive his wet kisses, each one lingering longer than the last.

His hands slink around your hips and under your ass to pull you to the edge of the couch, “If this is how lap dances go in your world you are never allowed in a strip club ever again.” You say anticipating his next move. What you are expecting though doesn’t happen. 

Rather, he moves up to hover his whole body over you, body waving as he does and it makes you giggle. When he rolls his hips his cock brushes against your abdomen, and the feeling of the material covering him tickles you. The over dramatic ‘sexy’ face he is trying to pull reminds you of when Hozier used the sexy Squidward filter which only adds to the merriment. He’s no Magic Mike, more like a Mediocre Matthew, but he’s yours and he’s trying, that’s all that matters.

Jake stops his attempt at seducing you when Mariah Carey's ‘All I Want for Christmas’ blares from the speakers, instead opting to sing the words to you, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need,” His fingers tickle your sides to make you squeal in delight and titter, his mouth grazing your neck, smile is evident as you feel it across your skin.

“I just want you for me own, more than you could ever know.” He scatters a short burst of smooches on the base of your neck whenever there are no lyrics to be sung. The song was true though, all he wanted for Christmas was you, everything else was just a bonus because he didn’t need anything else as long as you were with him.

As the song picks up, Jake shoots up with a shit-eating grin and pulls you up with him, “Dance with me!” The bells on his slippers are going crazy as he kicks his feet and does what you think would be considered a shit version of the jive but you’re not too sure. That’s the thing about your man, one minute he can be sultry and sexy, then in a flash, he’s being silly and eccentric. It keeps a dynamic in your relationship that you love, making it easy to fall more and more in love with him every day. 

When you start to join in with his terrible dancing the room is filled with laughter, exactly how Christmas is supposed to sound. Taking his hands in yours, you twirl him around, both of you stumbling as he trips over thin air. Instinctively, his hands grab ahold of your waist to steady you.

Your eyes are shut due to how much you’re laughing so you don’t see how fondly Jake is looking at you, like you’re his whole universe. Jake has wanted nothing more than to have a relationship that felt like you were everything to each other; lovers, best friends, soulmates. And he found that in you, you’re his one true love.

“I love you.” It comes out of nowhere, so much so you tilt your head with a ‘huh?’, “I love you, Y/N.” It’s not the first time he’s said it, Jake’s probably proclaimed his love for you a million times over, but this one feels like its meaning runs a little deeper than the others.

Pouting you squish his cheeks with your palms and kiss his protruded lips, “I love you too, Jake.” The moment is so sweet it could make anyone sick and if you saw anyone else act the way you two did you would probably want to throw them in a fireplace for being so cringy but by your logic, since it’s you and Jake it’s fine.

It dawns on you how this sentimental moment is being had with his current attire, “I need you out of this thong, I’m sorry.” A giggle leaves your lips when you look down to see distressed Rudolph once again.

“He still wants that pet, y’know. He’s earned it now.” Jake jumps slightly to bounce his cock and make the reindeer nod.

“For the love of God if you stop doing that I’ll do anything you want.” You plead, hands covering your face. 

Kicking his slippers off hurriedly and ridding himself of the hopefully never to be seen again underwear, he lifts you up and carries you to the bedroom, kissing your nose delicately. As he walks you see the thong lying sadly on the floor.

You’re never going to look at Rudolph the same again. 

#enha fluff #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #jake smut #jake fluff #enha x reader #aj writes #enhypen #i will forever write unserious jake content

[azurevi]

in a crowd of thousands

aka a collection of ideas for my childhood friends to lovers leona au / aka my headcanons of the entire life of leona kingscholar. jeez

note: am i dumping all my ideas for this au here because they’re too disorganised and messy that i can’t work out anything but i don’t want to just let them go to waste? yes i am. this au has been tormenting me for weeks but my brain just can’t figure how to seamlessly plan it so chances are i’m gonna put it away. it’s not like i laid awake in bed till 4am because i was thinking about it last night anyways lololololol

i did actually write a bit for this au, which you can find at the end of all the points, but it is unedited and was done before the tamashina-mina event so it’s definitely not perfect. i would be happy if it was readable-

this idea dump is 5.8k (god bless), and the attached work is around 4k? so yea

The story starts when Leona is 8, begrudgingly attending Farena’s coming of age ceremony. Everyone is cheering and celebrating the beloved first prince’s birthday, all the while Leona sulks in the carriage, feeling the acidic jealousy rot in his stomach. He’s never received a celebration this grand in his name before, and he’s certainly never worn something some extravagant, even on his own birthday.

Just as he’s fighting his urge not to jump off of the royal carriage, he’s approached by an eager kid who, judging by appearance, can’t be older than him. they’re putting their short legs to use by chasing the carriage, a bouquet of fresh flowers secure in their grip. Leona thinks at first that it’s yet another present for Farena, but they’re calling for him instead, asking that he take the flowers. So he does, reaching all the way out of the carriage to grab the gift, earning surprised and distraught yells from the guards.

By the time he’s seated and looks back again, they’ve already disappeared in the sea of people.

Leona’s never received anything like this before. People only ever compliment and offer gifts to Farena, fuzzing over his bubbly personality and applauding the grace he presents himself with. Even back when they were faced with their mother’s death from a deadly illness, he was still praised for upholding his dignity and composure, while Leona stood at his side, mourning the death of one of the only people who truly cared about him.

So naturally Leona’s curious about the nameless admirer. And what better way to meet them than to order flowers from each and every florist’s shop in Sunset Savannah to see if they’ll show up for the delivery? It’s a long shot, one that depends entirely on the assumption that they even work at a flower shop and didn’t just buy the bouquet somewhere else. But he’s willing to bet on his luck.

So days passed, Leona’s made like twenty or so orders and his room is filled with foliage, from small pots of plants to tall wide leaves. Kifaji is honestly a bit confused by this, and a lot of guards are saying that he’s throwing an unreasonable tantrum. But never-mind them, because he eventually gets what he wants.

So on a fine early afternoon another delivery comes. This time it’s a whole cart filled with blooms of different colors. Sort of looks like a whole bush has been moved onto it. It’s so huge that he can’t see the person rolling the cart, but then he lolls his head to the side and spots those familiar eyes, the ones he’s been wondering about when he’s wide awake at midnight.

And guess what? They’re excited to see him too. So much so that they topple over and cause the entire cart to fall forward. The bush cascades onto him like a waterfall, but luckily the cart doesn’t crash him, but instead fall backward with a loud CRASH. Kifaji almost has a heart attack at that.

At Leona’s command the retainers and chamberlains leave him alone with the kid, and they get to know each other, like where the kid’s from, why they gave him the flowers etc. Turns out they wanted to thank him for the clothes donation he did for the poor kids living near Elephant’s Legacy a while back then.

Leona doesn’t have the heart to tell them that the donation wasn’t his idea, that he only said ‘whatever’ when the tailor suggested that he gave the ill-fitting outfits to kids in need.

Wanting to spend more time with his new ‘admirer’, he ditches class and sneaks them all around the palace, showing them things that have their eye’s sparkling in awe, but especially his personal achievements. They’re amazed by all of it: where people states that his interest in chess is somewhat boring (even though it’s just because he’s not as energetic and sociable as his brother), they think that it’s cool and smart. Even though he doesn’t like painting as his brother and father do, they don’t judge him for it, but instead agree that spending time in the library reading ancient books is more worthwhile.

Then they move on to talk about magic. Leona is obviously proficient, but they on the other hand actually don’t possess it. At least not yet. So they’re like ‘omg you have a unique magic already can you show me’ and that’s when Leona hesitates. He has endless ways to impress them, but his unique magic has always been something that others frown upon. It’s destructive, it’s messy, and it’s not beautiful. But you insist anyways, and young Leona decides, what the hell, screw it.

And to his surprise, they’re not a bit terrified. Quite the contrary, as you goes off on a tangent talking about how it could come in handy in so many situations.

And that’s the start of a precious friendship! Leona decides to order flowers regularly from their shop alone, and they get to know each other a lot better from there onward.

Years pass and they’re basically besties now. The young florist visits at least once a week, and the second prince is always more cheery and energised when they’re hanging out.

He tells them all about his life, how his mother had been sick for as long as he could remember and how her death took a toll on him. How Kifaji is pretty much the only chamberlain that doesn’t talk behind his back. How the others do it all the time just because Farena shines far brighter than he does.

The florist talks behind their backs as revenge, and it makes him feel just a bit better. And proud too.

It’s great knowing that someone cares and appreciates him. It makes him want to keep trying.

Similarly they let him into their life. They show them where they live, which is somewhere near the border between the bustling city and the neglected neighbourhoods, the poorer villages that fail to catch up with the Sunrise City and other major cities’ developments. Due to the country’s insistence to uphold the ‘coexistence with nature’ mission, little progress is resulted in those areas, and the disparity is beginning to look like a wide canyon.

Having lived in the palace for most of his life, this is the first time Leona learns of the parts of Sunset Savannah that the royals don’t talk about.

And as a result of the slow, almost stagnant growth of these places, infrastructures are nearly unaccessible. Even if people get sick (and they get sick quite a lot) they don’t get much medical support, at least not nearby.

One of the victims is the florist’s mother— and this is entirely the reason why they need to be working at such a young age. She’s been ill for a long time and is bed-ridden for the better part of a day, so they have to support the family. There is little medicine they can get their hands on, and even if they do get something, nothing really works.

With such a important mission on their shoulder, they’ve never really considered what they wanted to be in the future. The immediate goal was to have their mother get better, and to keep the family business going.

Looking at the ghastly lives of the people is sort of a reality check for Leona. And that’s when he begins to feel an ambition grow inside him.

He wants to change things, because no one in the palace seems to care about the people who are suffering so long as they’re out of sight.

The first time he raises the idea with his father, the king does take his words into consideration, but ultimately decides that it’s more important to preserve the country’s culture. Plus the councillors / politicians etc don’t agree with his views anyways, claiming that he’s too young to understand that ‘some sacrifices have to be made’.

Which is absurd, because he’s looking right at one of the sacrifices right now, and it’s their most important friend, who’s forced to provide for their family all on his own.

Leona doesn’t give up. He goes on learning more about the country he lives in, spends a little more time away from the glorious Sunrise City, and comes up with plans to improve Sunset Savanna. They’re not perfect, most of them are not totally feasible, but at least he’s doing something. Even Kifaji gives him his own opinions at times, unlike the other chamberlains who dislike that he’s trying to upend how the country’s always been operated.

All the while the florist gives him all the support he needs. Even when it feels like the majority of the world is against him at times, with them by his side, he feels invincible, like he can really change the world if he wants to.

Them making flower crowns for him as he works on his projects… that’s it. That’s the image.

Leona is maybe around 14, 15. His father falls ill (why is everyone sick in this story…) and there is a dire need of a new ruler to watch over the country in his hopefully momentary absence.

A king. Leona’s spent his whole life looking at one, and though he’s far from a mature adult, he tries his hand at politics anyways, hoping that he at least has a shot at becoming one in the near future. But everyone has already had their pick, and it’s none other than Farena. Farena, who rejects Leona’s ideals like everyone else.

“It’s simply too complicated”, he says, but Leona doesn’t see how hard it can be to take a new path.

But he’s still trying, at least for his dear friend. His dear friend, who’s been sticking with him through all the doubts and rejections. His dear friend, who’s promised time after time that they’ll never leave him or turn their back to him. His dear friend, who is there for some of the worst nights he has, comforting him as he winds down from nightmares. His dear friends, who always smells like a walking garden. His dear friend, whom he inevitably falls for.

At the same time, a romance is blooming somewhere else in the palace. Farena has fallen in love with Malaika, and after perhaps a few years of dating on the down low, they are ready to get married. And obviously this is good news. People see this as another indication that Farena will be a great king, seeing as he’s already had so much planned before him.

It’s like they don’t even plan to give Leona a chance.

But as always, his friend somehow sees the better side of things as they always do, telling him not to lose all hope yet.

Sometimes it feels like they’re the only person keeping him going. Would be. sad if they were to. Leave him. (clear throat) Anyways.

In the meanwhile, he decides to take advantage of the wedding. Perhaps the passionate atmosphere can assist him in his own romantic endeavours. Though it’s usually unusual and almost unorthodox for a commoner to attend a royal wedding, they get a pass since Kifaji assigns them to help with the decorations.

And it kind of does. He gets to dance with them, though the music is way too quick for him to really soak in the moment. He gets to see up close how there are stars in their eyes as they watch the bride and groom exchange their vows. Eventually, during dinner, he becomes annoyed by the other guests’ heartless questions about his life and sneaks away with his friend. It ends with a few guards hot on their tails, and in a moment of fight or flight, they dart into one of the empty rooms to hide.

Which just so happens to be the throne room. There’s no one around to berate him anyways, so Leona decides to stride towards the throne and take a seat on the gilded surface, overseeing the now vacant room. There seems to be power infused in this simple throne; the power he needs to make a change in the world, to make the ignorant listen to not just him, but also the demands of the people.

As if that’s not enough, they move to his side and jokingly calls him ‘your majesty’ and his heart does a whole somersault. Even though it’s just for a moment, he feels like he has everything he needs in his hand: the person he loves, and the throne that he so deserves.

And really, he could’ve just told them his feelings there and now, but he’s so caught up in the moment that he decides to postpone it. He’ll have the opportunity to do it in the future anyways. He’s certain that they’ll stay with him till the end of time.

When the invitation letter from NRC comes, Leona doesn’t bat an eye. There’s nothing the school can teach him that he hasn’t already mastered. Plus he’d rather stay here with his friend than go somewhere else all on his own.

Not to mention he’s busy trying to persuade those in power to agree with his vision about rebranding the country, which has been largely unsuccessful. Farena has been busy attending to other matters, and though Malaika sees where Leona’s coming from, she too is burdened by her share of responsibilities.

Time after time the officials have described his ideas as foolish, irresponsible, unreasonable, as if they still see him as an incapable child. Meanwhile it seems like they go along with everything Farena does, even if it jeopardises the livelihood of those under poverty line. All the while his friend's mother withers away. Watching the impending death looms over them places a knife in his chest. He doesn’t want to see them grief like he did when his mother left.

Leona can’t help but feel frustrated. Years of hard work hasn’t led him anywhere. As a kid he was more often frowned upon than not, but now that he was a teenager he still hasn’t gained the respect he deserves. Projects after projects are banned, to the point where the council members groan every time he shows up to their meetings. His ambition starts to dwindle. It feels like he’s trapped in the same tunnel with no hope of escaping.

Well, except when he’s with the only person who understands him. Even when they’re spending most of their time taking care of their mother now, he still derives strength from the occasional letters exchanged between them. (i loveeeee letters i love epistolary fics)

The pent-up frustration eventually leads him to do something rash: he challenges Farena for the position of Sunset Savanna’s ruler. To anyone else, it sounds like an absurd comedy. Leona— 16 and still growing— is challenging Farena, who not only is a decade older but also has more experiences than he does in managing a country.

I feel like challenges to the throne can go two ways; either they settle this with a physical fight or a peaceful voting. Obviously the former is going to hurt a lot more but I feel like it’ll be more impactful…

So say the rules require them to settle this with a fight. Which now that I think about would be more reasonable because there’s no way Leona will get enough votes anyways. So under a stormy night (for dramatic effects) the two brothers have an inevitable clash, and this isn’t just for the title of king.

It’s also the anguish Leona feels from living in Farena’s shadow all these years. His anger at the unattainable standard he has created for him. His jealousy at all the love that’s been thrown his way, all the attention their father has given him. But also the sadness from having him as a brother, from the lack of connection between them. It’s never really Farena’s fault, more like since the day Leona realized why the guards were more concerned with a paper cut on Farena’s hand than half of his room dissolved into sand, a crack formed in their relationship, and it only grew larger until it’s an impossible canyon.

The ending is written in stone. The guards and Malaika watch on, the spectators sparse and few. They’d rather not have the people know about such dispute within the royal family. The rain washes away the beads of red on the ground, but not the bruises on each of them’s flesh, and certainly not the gaping wounds in their hearts. Even as Leona is pushed to the corner, he doesn’t let himself stay down, his aching legs and sore arms be damned. And with him not admitting defeat, Farena can’t end the fight.

In the end, it is Kifaji who pulls him away before he’s injured beyond recognition, but even then he thrashes and attempts to push him away. “Let go of me”, “I’m not losing”. The words scratch his throat as he yells. Finally, Kifaji lets go of his arm, his face twisted in hurt.

“Tone it down, my prince! You’re being difficult!” It hurts him as much as it does Leona, but he goes on, “There’s no point.”

It feels like yet another inescapable twist. Kifaji, who’s always given him the silent approval. Kifaji, who treats him to sautéed mutton every time he’s faced with defeat. Kifaji, whom he trusts with his life. It turns out that he’s just like everyone else.

That day, it’s not just his relationship with Farena that shatters, but also the bond he shared with Kifaji.

Allowing no one near him, Kifaji has no choice but to visit his only friend. They rush with him back to the palace upon hearing about everything that’s happened, and feels their heart lurch uncomfortably at the sight of Leona’s battered state.

With utmost precision, they clean and bandage his wounds like how they wrap papers around bunches of flowers. The silence stretches, as if the moment it’s broken, the tears welling in their eyes will fall uncontrollably.

And so neither of them speak a word. Once they’re done with throwing away the bloodied towels, Leona lets his head loll onto their shoulder. Even in their presence it feels like his heart is hardening into a rock, one that upon being crushed, will never be recovered again. The night embraces them; two souls beaten down by life, robbed of their hopes and dreams.

Leona will never admit it, but that night, he holds their hand like it’s his only lifeline.

In the end, the thing that stomps on his aspirations is but a little child.

Cheka is what Malaika and Farena decide to call him. The young, adorable son of the king (in all but name anyways), who is also a promise that Leona shall never get the throne.

It’s… devastating. His steely, cold eyes are fixed unblinkingly on the snoring infant in his arms. Cheka had been crying non-stop in the middle of the night, craving his mother’s embrace, but Malaika is caught up in a meeting. As it turns out, funnily enough, he only goes quiet when he’s shoved into Leona’s arms.

Leona wills himself to feel hatred, to feel spite, but nothing comes out but for a single tear that rolls down his face. The only thing eating him up inside is pity for himself.

He feels lost. For the longest time he’s felt like he’s playing on the losing team, like the game’s rigged, but to think that the definite indication of his defeat is a young child?

The walls of the palace close in on him. Any second now they’ll come crashing down. Would anyone notice if he’s buried under debris? Probably not. The beloathed second prince, the disappointment in everyone’s eyes.

Is there any point in trying?

As hopelessness engulfs him, his only hope is to call for the only person left in his life who would still back him up. After all, they’ve promised time after time that they wouldn’t give up on them both. Hours tick by; he paces in his room, feeling every hair on his skin. There seems to be a predator in the corner of his room, looming over him, waiting to catch him in a moment of weakness.

He waits, and waits some more. When the guard returns empty-handed, he goes there by himself.

When was the last time they met? Right. Last month, when Leona asked the royal healer to gauge the cause of their mother’s illness. Dread overcomes him as he nears the shabby shop. Paired with the crumbling depression he’s been feeling the whole day, he won’t be surprised if the ground under him caves in swallows him whole.

It’s empty. The wooden sign says ‘closed’. There’s no light from the second floor, where they live. The flowers in front of the shop has withered. It looks vacant, deserted. Coincidentally, that’s also how Leona feels.

They’re just … gone. No one has idea where they’ve gone to; all of their neighbours claim that they just disappeared one day, like they were taken by the wind. Leona sends out anyone who’s not caught up in caring for the newborn prince to look for them, but to no avail. He has no idea what has happened to them, or whether they’re even still— alive.

The thought makes him sick to the stomach.

He waits for days. Weeks. Then he realises that he’s truly alone. For the first time in his life, there’s no one left in his life who know him.

Call it impulse, call it his mind playing tricks. He doesn’t have it in him to think about reason anyways. All he knows is that the longer he stays in this cage of a palace, he’ll suffocate.

A fortnight later, he digs out the crumbled, forgotten invitation letter from his drawer, and leaves for the college far away from his homeland.

Three or four years of school. That’s quite enough to make someone become a bitter, cynical person. That’s where Leona finds himself anyways, lazing his time away at NRC. He doesn’t technically like it here— too many people, too noisy— but it’s better than being stuck in the palace, forced to come face to face with the fact that he’s born with the short end of the stick.

Classes are largely meaningless. He doesn’t have to listen to a single lecture to get full marks in tests and exams. Leading his dorm and the Magift club doesn’t give him as much satisfaction as he initially expected. Most days it feels meaningless to do anything, but it doesn’t kill him. Whatever sadness or problems that come his way can be solved by a nap. If they persist, then two naps. Eventuality they will leave him alone; there isn’t much point in trying anyways.

Why the botanical garden? Well, it’s just a personal choice of his. Maybe it also has something to do with the fact that the mix of flowers and grass reminds him of a softer, better time. Not that he will ever admit it. If anyone asks him why he knows so much about botany, floriculture and all that, he can just brush it off by saying that he’s spent too much time in the garden.

He doesn’t really miss anything. Or anyone. This life he’s leading is not ideal, but, again, it’s just enough to get by.

At least he’s not totally lonely. There’s always someone bothering him, like Ruggie right now, who’s berating him for being late for the preparation of the entrance ceremony.

The corridor is packed with new, curious faces. Most of them seem to recognize the lion beastman and stay out of his way smartly. As he lazily trails behind Ruggie, he hears a bit of commotion coming from just around the corner. Gasps and cusses, and also muttered apologies.

It’s probably nothing, he thinks to himself as he turns— only to come face to face with a stack of books higher than him. It looms over him, threatening to fall directly on his head.

(is this… deja vu?)

Moments before he can feel the impact, Ruggie yells, “Laugh with me!” and manages to balance whoever’s holding the books. “Come on, Leona! We’re already late!”

As he clicks his tongue in annoyance and walks past the faceless student, he hears them mutter a thanks under their breath. It sounds- awfully familiar. Familiar enough to make him swivel around sharply, gaze drilling holes in their back.

“Leona!”

Damn it. He shakes the thought away and follows the hyena instead.

The little encounter gets forgotten in the back of his mind as he prepares to welcome a new group of dorm members. The newbies stand in a crooked queue, turning around and talking to the strangers around them. Some of them are adjusting their robes, the others fidgeting nervously. Whispers fly, most of them speculations of whichever dorm the speakers are about to be sorted in.

It doesn’t surprise him that most his new dorm members look to be physically advantaged. He wouldn’t want it other way; it helps raise his chances of victory in the next Magift tournament.

As he’s about to drift off into dreamland, he hears the next name being called. A name that he hasn’t spoken in years, a name that he’s been trying to bury in his memories.

There’s no mishearing it— his eyes are wide open now, landing on the hooded figure in front of the mirror. Their face is obscured, but then they give their own name to the mirror, and that’s when Leona knows for sure that’s it’s them.

He couldn’t put to words what was happening in his head. Happiness? Surprise? Confusion? An amalgamation of emotions blur within him. He holds his breath, waiting for the announcement of the dorm. What’s it gonna be? No, how even are they here? Have they somehow figured out magic? Where have they even been?

“The shape of thy soul belongs to… Savanaclaw."

Well, he'll be damned.

Immediately after hearing that, their head shoots up, eyes landing on the tall and muscled group of students. For some reasons he cannot fathom, he turns his face to the side, concealing himself. Is it because he's unready to confront a face from the past? Is it because he's hung up on the fact that they left him without a word?

No, it feels more like shame. He isn't sure if he wants to be seen by them in this state. Not yet.

He remains quiet during the trip back to the dorm. Ruggie shoots him a confused glance as he's supposed to give a short speech to welcome the first-year students, but he lets it slide.

Even as he's standing in the very front of the queue, he can make out that distinct flowery scent if he tries. Years of memories come crashing on him, so sudden that he finds himself at a loss of words as he leaves Ruggie to assign the rooms.

He knows there's no point in hiding when he's literally the dorm leader, but the thoughts within him are too much of a whirlwind. Even when he's time after time fantasized about meeting them again, this feels way too sudden. He needs time to untangle his feelings. Maybe then he'll have the guts to face them.

This plan goes down the drain in the end. He hates feeling like a coward, but what he hates even more is that they are literally in the same building as him, and he's knocking himself away. Propelled by nothing but a racing heart, he gets out of bed and down the hallways, coming to a stop in front of a room that he hopes is correct.

He knocks.

Seconds pass. No one seems to be answering. Just as he's about to give up and return to his room, the door is swung open, and in the doorway stands the person that's been weaving in and out of his dreams.

Time has been good to them. Their features have become more defined, and they are holding themselves up with more confidence now. Leona freezes right there like an awkward statue, mouth agape. Words fail him. What is he supposed to say anyways, except that he's missed them?

After a beat, recognition dawns on their face. The beam on their lips is so beautiful it could light up the whole building. They all but throw themselves at them, and Leona stumbles backward from the strength.

What is he to do but to wrap his ams around them as well? It feels like he's back in the palace again, only this time without any sourness coating his tongue.

So they finally get to talk about everything that's happened in the past years. It turns out that one night their mother got dangerously close to the edge of death, and in a moment of bone-chilling fear, they woke up the neighbourhood doctor for help. As usual, he couldn't do anything, but at the sight of their distraught tears, he advised that the two of them go away to this other country, where developments in technology and medicine were more advanced. With no time to waste, he helped them sneak onto the last late night ride out of Sunset Savanna and to the foreign land.

It turned out that there was indeed a possible cure for their mother, but the follow-up treatment was a long, taxing journey. They found a place to stay in, and it took six months for her situation to finally stabalize. By the time they had the time and money to return, Leona was already long gone. All they knew was that he'd gone to a prestigious school for magic users.

With the responsibility to support the family and continue the family business off their back, they could do whatever they want. And, as can be seen, they chose to pick up a few books from the local library and teach themselves magic, all so that they could meet Leona again.

At this, he is once again rendered speechless. All this time they've been giving their all just to get to him, and what has he been doing? Letting time slip through his fingers like sand? Suddenly he feels very, very small standing in front of them.

But as always, they don't push him away even after all this. Because they know the Leona who's buried under all these layesr: the Leona who's unafraid to speak up for his beliefs, the Leona who looks out for those around him, the Leona who never gives up no matter what. They're sure that he can pick himself up again.

And perhaps, with their hand securely in his once more, he can really try again.

I feel that it's a bit obvious that the ending is a bit rushed, even though it's supposed to be the 'to lovers' part in the 'childhood friends to lovers' equation. The truth is that my ideas only reached as far as the point where Leona goes to NRC, so the rest I just came up with on the spot. Not to mention this is just roughly how I imagine  the au would go, so there may be plot holes. That being said, here are some other ways the ending could go:

They don't get back together right away, but instead they slowly approach each other again, tip-toeing around each other the whole time. Perhaps they meet when his friend is visiting the botanical garden, because of course they would. Leona is distancing himself a bit cause he doesn't want them to see how he's turned out. But they eventually get familiar with each other again.

Similarly they don't confront each other immediately, but this time Leona's overblot does happen and they show up to stop it. I feel like they'd be disappointed at his ourburst and him using underhanded methods to secure victory, but give them a few scenes and they'll work it out together and Leona will see his faults.

And now onto a little reflection about this au of mine... it's such a precious brainchild of mine I want to cradle it in my arms until it eventually grows up to be an actual fic. But regretfully I have neither the time nor energy to plot everything out, only scattered ideas as you can see. There are quite a lot of things I want to develop in the story:

obviously the relationship between leona and his childhood friend

relationship between leona and kifaji

leona and farena

leona and his parents

leona's backstory, specifically how he became who he is today 

the theme of trying again and again

the theme of mutual support in a relationship

Juggling all of these and attempting to expand them to each their full potential have been a challenge. There are also other things that stand in the way, such as how to portray Leona in a young age. Personally I have almost zero recollection of my childhood so I can't help but struggle with balancing the helplessness he feels and the naive hope every child possesses.

But all of those aside, at least I'm putting this au out in the world. Maybe one day I'll get around to making it a real thing :) I hope y'all have enjoyed this mess of an au as much as I do!

If you're interested in the stuff that I came up with for this au weeks ago, it is linked below. JUST A HEADS UP: it's unedited and written before the recent event, so there could be inaccuracies. I also don't like how I've made Leona too bitter for a 8 year old. But feel free to read it and give me a few feedback!

google docs

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #sie writes #leona x reader

[ms0milk]

𝟗 | 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐭

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"You are mine."

no cw bkg is no poet laureate. the curtain falls on y/n's business formal era. a long overdue confrontation, an eerie garden, IV drip of catharsis, romance a la knock down drag out fight, and an unexpected guest. memories of Alderan monsoons. we're halfway through, folks. the prince and his guard are more similar than they'd like to admit 5.8k

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glossary lmao featherbit is what happens when you're shooting with feather fletching (not plastic) and you don't move the thumb supporting the arrow out of the way fast enough. the feathers move so fast they slice your hand-- i once had to pull some out of my bone, they really get in there. i practiced archery with a bunch of old women as a kid so this might be their special term and not technically accurate. not sure, pls enjoy :)

In the interim between spring and summer, there are a few weeks filled with rage. Fights break out in the kitchens, porcelain shatters at the market. Children used to bumps and bruises suddenly snap the necks off their dolls in the moments after stubbing toes or pinching fingers.

The string of your bow snapped in a tight draw this past spring, while you were training in the forests beyond Aldera’s gates. The nocked arrow bucked sideways with no clear direction and panicked into the ground a few feet away but not so aimlessly that it didn’t catch your bowhand with its fletching first. You screamed that day, for the first time you ever remember and not because it hurt. A quirk like a sneeze maybe. You screamed again, something pent-up and ferocious, after biting the feathers from the thick of your thumb and then calmly packed up to go home.

When misfortunes pile up, there isn’t a person alive that won’t eventually snap. That’s what May is for, that’s all May is for. Those few weeks before summer are especially unlucky and nothing else, and the rage doesn’t mean a thing. Takoba is a vacuum and the prince is fire in a jar, nothing else. It doesn’t mean anything that your fingers are twitching, or that it’s November.

In the sandpit of Aizawa’s training quarters, Takoban soldiers watch on as Uraraka finally convinces you to shoot for her. They whisper on the sidelines sipping from their waterskins, chatting, gossiping all half dressed in some combination of armor and day clothes, or some just look. More than a few only watch you, somewhat apprehensive of the Alderan girl who fired into a crowd with no discipline from Aizawa.

In fact, the Master watches the pit now from his office above the sprawling arena, nursing black tea and a scowl.

You ready a borrowed bow. It’s so natural, the weight of the weapon in your bicep and the sting of fresh strings under your fingertips. “This one’s mine!” Uraraka beams while you repeatedly draw the empty string to your cheek and lower it again for adjustments, “I’m a terrible shot so it doesn’t get much use.”

For a week it’s been this. Training with the timid soldiers and their sweet apprentice captain. Declining a great many invitations from Denki and Mina to “sleepover.” Rising earlier than dawn, banishing the guard sent to watch your door and searching again for your prince. Avoiding the kitchens. Memorizing every corner of the seashell castle in cold autumnal hallways, its sprawling outer walkways battered by sea air, and studying all of the history parsed out in seedsized carvings along odd walls.

For someone so loud, your prince is adept at hiding. For someone so highly trained, your ego cannot take much more of this. Every morning spent searching for someone who thinks nothing of you unless it is to torment.

When the prince is at home he hardly dresses daintily, opting instead for hunting vests and all their loops and hooks for weapons. He wears gold and furs at home, so do you. In Takoba he wears stiff linens with silver climbing from the cuffs. Little blue bows to tie closed his tunic like a viscous babydoll. If you couldn’t still feel his hands at your throat you would laugh.

Shinsou is off running errands for his master and so your only other companion is Sero, gangly as ever, and grinning sleepily as he watches beside Uraraka and her men. “I haven’t seen you shoot in years, Y/n!”

“Why have you seen me shoot at all?” You murmur as you reach into the quiver at your hip to select an arrow. There’s no gallery in Jeanist’s arena at home so unless a lord or lady would like to stand amongst sparring soldiers there is no place to watch you train.

You finger through the decorative fletching and select the one that reminds you most of your queen. Oilslick green feathers, every shimmering color of a peacock sewn to a white birch shaft.

Everyday you find him at lunch, your prince and his friends, growling and smiling through their food in the Great Hall with all the other hundreds of castle staff taking meals. Everyday you station yourself outside the Hall, safe from lunch rush crowds, and everyday he must pass you to leave. You can follow him then. Noon is when you begin your shift. He doesn’t grunt or rumble or speak a single word. Not once all week has he looked at you and no longer do you want to watch him.

Uraraka beams, “Bullseye and lunch is on me!”

“Lunch is free,” you whisper through the draw of your nicely nocked arrow. The bowstrings sit heavy under your fingers as you pull strength to your shoulders in Alderan form. Hips grounded, back straight, shoulders bulging under the pressure, familiar and sore is the draw of a bow and arrow.

Hands trembling, sweat pooling, legs clenched and chest heaving, no matter how often you work your body to exhaustion you can feel him near you. Baths and laundry do not wash away the too soft touch of his hands. Even if it’s only to yawn– to blink– each time your eyes close the prince’s flushed face comes to you, and even more haunting than that is how cold you feel when those same eyes open again. How pitiful your appetite for remembering humiliation. You ready your body to shoot.

You haven’t trained for fifteen years just to miss a shot in front of foreign company. It’s perfect, you are perfect, you know exactly where this arrow will land and how to get it there, like a magnet the arrowhead screams bullseye. You draw tighter, pull the green fletching close enough to your cheek that it’ll cut you on release because the pain will distract from the rock between your ribs, the suffocating anguish tucked under your heart. Why can’t you ever shake him? It helps to hold your breath.

Prince Bakugou's eyes haven’t changed a single time in his life. Wet and worried in a violent carriage. Disinterested in passing on your way to class, bored and rolling when his mother stops to speak with you. Conceited around a campfire. Viscously entertained in windy hallways. No matter what they’re looking at, you will never mistake them, no matter where he is you will find them.

He’s watching you somehow now, you can feel it.

“Kats wait, look!” Sero hollers just loudly enough that you’re shaken from the memories and again focus on aiming. By now the soldiers around him grow impatient and they groan when Sero shouts again, “drinks‘er on Ochako if Y/n hits the mark!”

“I did not say that.”

Above the arena, beside Aizawa’s office, a great distance away, is a little blue balcony and its little blue princess. Right beside her, your prince glowers and slows to a halt as she does. It is well before noon.

Uraraka tries to calm the growing excitement from the crowd, “Princess Fuyumi, please note I said no such thing!” But her soldiers only chuckle and whistle when the princess pretends not to hear her.

What are they doing together? You flex the tips of your fingers just enough to cause pain. Bakugou is not merry, he swells too wide without his cape, he is not with his Champion and so he is not safe and gods how he sucks the soul from a room.

Steady.

Blood red eyes glow from under his fair hair as they always do and they brand you like two pinpoint spotlights. He doesn’t pay attention to Sero chiding or Uraraka bemoaning her wallet or the princess waving her lacey handkerchief beside him. He only watches you.

Smooth pressure like a papercut at your cheekbone and the tension in your shoulders disappears as it always does when an arrow goes flying. Release. For a second you do think you smile.

Perfect center. Finally you breathe again when the room bursts into laughter and clapping, lowering your aiming fingers from your cheek when you look up to the balcony. Amid the cheers, Uraraka is the only one to notice oilslick green blooming from the side of your thumb. Blood begins to pour when you make a point to turn, and to bow deeply to the observing princess while Bakugou glares silently beside her. His charged stare closes the noisy distance. It vibrates the feathers that pierce your flesh.

“I suppose we already knew you were an excellent shot!” Fuyumi cups her hands around her mouth so that you can hear the smile in her words.

Overlapping with her glow, savage eyes drink your blood– the blood that seeps between your fingers as you cup your featherbit hand and your weapon with the other and bow even slightly deeper before rising, weeping wound tucked politely behind your back, to catch the your golden prince leading the princess away.

Bakugou skips lunch today. He skips second lunch and tea and attends not a single meeting, and so you spend your entire wretched day searching for him.

What you would have given to stay in Uraraka’s training pit. To spread out in the sand and watch the soldiers laugh and spar while she bandaged your hand. While she scolded you lightly and slipped you sweet cookies to help with the bloodloss. Instead you left with Sero at lunchtime as you always do, to collect your prince from his hiding place.

The rock of your ribs turns to lead when relief hits you before worry. When Bakugou’s golden head doesn’t appear among his friends at their regular table. You cannot know rest until you know where he is and once you find him you will never know rest again.

You’re wandering now like you have been for hours, without direction from one twinkling meeting room to the next. From silly tea parlors, to the armories, to cartography offices, all empty of the Alderan Prince.

You don’t miss your mother often. In fact, there’s a warm wet hole where her face should be when you think back on golden fields and cotton aprons. You do miss Aldera, obviously you do, and with each mission’s obstacle it becomes more and more clear that home will never be what you left it as. Home will never again be dazzling your queen or hunting with your master, it will be dousing the prince’s flames. Aldera will never again be verdant and protective, it will be Bakugou’s hands on your throat and hips and cheeks and surely he will kill you.

Passing a tidying chambermaid or lazing guard, Takoba Castle has opened up. The prince’s chambers still evade you, but you’re no longer lost in chilly halls or tripping on the odd floor runner. Staff don’t stare anymore. A lord or lady might shirk away from your halberd but they don’t seem too concerned with the woman attached to it. Takoba is getting quieter. In your prince’s distance this week something like peace grows.

A collection of hardly audible voices are the first things to stir the castle in hours and you turn under the stairwell archway to mark where they come from. It’s easily evening now, cold sunsets tipping through windows you happen to pass.

“No– of course I will, but I don’t think–”

“Not for you to think about.”

Winding soft around nothing the voices become distinctly two. One of them is clearly a growling Alderan and as you climb up the tight butlers’ stairwell, the grandeur of an East Wing walkway spills over your face with that same sleepy sun. Seaglass Hall. A mnemonic device from your week of wandering; the ceiling of this appendage hallway like so many others in the castle is made of bottled glass, but in the east, only in the east, is it in shades of seafoam green.

Your eyes land squarely on Prince Bakugou, peering startled into the stairwell’s darkness and framed by the archway you trudge through. You’re not sure how much longer you can survive the sight of your jewelry twinkling in his ears. His gold is awash in soft greens beside Deku, who sinks into the shadows under such cool-toned light and you speak before thinking while dusting your hands on your trousers, “Is this where you’ve been hiding?”

Bakugou hasn’t so much as frowned at you since the incident in the kitchens. Besides the archery demonstration this morning, he hasn’t even flicked his hateful eyes in your direction. He hides, he’s hiding, the way he’s kept to himself this week is different than dislike and now the death of your peace is palpable.

You pretend not to feel your pulse jump when his lips part, before he remembers that you are no longer worth speaking to. Is that what he’s thinking as his jaw clenches? As he rights himself from standing casually with Deku to his usual intimidating loom. As his pretty red eyes drift through the empty hallway and do a terrible job of hiding his frustration with your words.

There is a crater distance between you and family, between you and any semblance of familiar and soft or vulnerable and whose fault is that? So often it’s no one’s– it’s the queen and her station, it’s Jeanist and his rank, it’s your dead mother, it's the uniform you wear and the eyes that interpret it, it’s the soldiers who drink together and who salute when you walk past, sometimes it’s the color red, sometimes it’s recovering from an injury, it’s in the sympathy of strangers, it’s in your muscles and your favorite weapons and your inability to lose.

Even if only for a second, down the hallway, as you move forward Bakugou seems to lean back.

Deku perks up behind the broad frame of your prince who has begun to puff like a cat in the lengthy silence, and even though you haven’t had much of a chance to speak with the little Champion past your accidental spat in the throne room he doesn’t seem bothered by the memory or by the prince who seethes as he’s talked over.

“He’s all yours Y/n! I’m sorry, didn’t realize you were looking for him.”

Where Bakugou should have snapped or snatched, he only stills. No barking, not even a cross of his arms. He turns his head away as you approach as if pretending to roll his eyes but the prince you know doesn’t shrink in his anger. If he truly wanted you to meet his irritation all he’d need to do is blink. All else fails, he could just grab you again– a puppet on strings pulled too close and smile as you fall to pieces. It worked so well last time.

All three of you seem to realize more words won’t cure this quiet and as Bakugou peels away to storm down the hall, the little Champion nods his goodnights sympathetically and gestures through the seaglass after him.

Maybe this is what the sea looks like beneath its frothing waves? Maybe it’s quiet like this, sun bleeding through cool light at lengths immeasurable and asking at a whisper for you to follow.

“Royal summons. Katsuki hates being late.”

Maybe this is what hell looks like? Maybe the heat of the setting sun through stained glass is a warning and your prince, a golden fire, is just a trick the light can use to draw you in like a bug who doesn’t know better. Bakugou’s broad shoulders shrink the longer you let him get away. Maybe you shouldn’t fall for it again.

“Thank you Champion.”

When Deku slips down the stairwell you came up from, peace truly dies at sea.

Ten and some years ago was Aldera’s wettest summer. Thunderstorms, flooding, bugs like you wouldn’t imagine– most of the season was spent rescuing crops and standing still in rare breezes, but the children had school.

Between training and sleep you dragged yourself to class with civilian kids to learn numbers and poems that would do nothing to protect the queen, in a room full of people too nervous to speak with you. Green lightning ripped through the afternoon sky and caused such bruises that the clouds turned purple. Rain pelted the castle walls sideways.

You were late. You fell asleep standing on shift in the North Wing, tricked into resting your head on the wall from the lull of storm on stone and so when you remember this day the first thing that comes to you is sprinting through golden halls, school bag swatting your hips and back. Sliding down the banister of the Main Hall as if it were a playground, a swift turn under the maiddoor and then a mad dash to the East Wing where your lessons were bound to have started without you. Thunder shook the castle.

The sound of rain grew louder and after bounding round the building faster than a magpie, you realized why. In one of the four hallways overlooking the courtyard, wind, rain, and debris sailed through the line of open windows and beneath them an exquisitely detailed rug drank up the water that pooled inside. As the red and gold details wet, the castle seemed to be bleeding. It slipped beneath the floorboards and the space was soaked in an ancient smell that could only be dredged out of wood by divine floodwater.

If you were old enough to know the words, curses might have sprung from your mouth as you abandoned the school mission to seal your home back up. At eleven years old this was no easy task. Perhaps the bugs hiding in their trees outside laughed as they watched you leap to catch the first great window frame and drag it down shut. Maybe the birds winced as water filled your school bag and plastered your hair hot across your throat– at your soldier’s uniform, already too big, clinging to your bones now that the rain had taken them too.

Who left these windows open?!

The queen loved her art, she loved every floor runner and tapestry, and you would not watch on as the wilderness tried to reclaim her castle. As an adult now, fighting the rain for a rug is of course too silly to be noble but at eleven it seemed to be the most important thing in the world. You burned with purpose. You burned too with embarrassment, at the state of your uniform no other child wore and the mess of your hair even as you refused to take shelter or call for help. Then Aldera’s little prince rushed onto the scene from the opposite end of the hall.

Oh how you could have laughed at the state of it all. At Bakugou, scrawny and pretty and dressed up in jewels like he’d just come from an party, and at the thought of what he saw when he turned the corner. Besides how silly you knew you looked, the comedy of the situation hit you for a moment as curtains of rain, branches, and wind whipped inside the eight still-open windows between you.

It was the first of many days you would feel painfully ridiculous beside your beautiful prince. When an unripe peach sailed inside on the gales and cracked you over the head, the pity in his soft eyes stung. This was not how a royal guard should hold herself. Her hair should be kept back, her face should remain neutral, and most of all her cursed uniform was supposed to fit.

As you were knocked off balance, the prince jerked towards you but before he could take a full step into the storm another few fruits were dislodged from their tree and whipped inside around rain and leaves. Bakugou too was clocked in the head, a peach to his cheek and caught another before it could fly into his mouth and knock out a tooth.

As the pair of you righted yourselves and the hallway grew wetter, the thought of class felt too cruel. The decision between your queen’s rugs and her son, too overwhelming– which should you shelter? A bruised prince or a ruined hallway, which would the queen hate more? Your redemption for falling asleep on duty kept drifting farther away, and then Bakugou began to laugh.

He reached up for the window closest to him and shut it tight with a little hop and a whip of his shoulder. A vine of lightning lit the hallway in negatives for a moment.

He grinned, “Get outta here!” And tossed the peach in his fist across seven open stormy windows to you.

Bakugou’s hands are always fists and if you had known this when you were eleven it wouldn’t have charmed you so much. When the prince cracked a smile in the petulant wind tunnel something light like wheat fields came to life inside of you.

“Yes sir.”

As if reading your mind, the grown prince growls when you catch up to him in the Takoban hallway.

Bakugou takes up too much space to hide from anything. He could suck the air from the room like a great big fireplace if he truly wanted to and suffocate every soul inside, so it’s somewhat remarkable, as you fall behind him, that you aren’t brought to your knees or sent through the pretty glass ceiling.

Why doesn’t he speak? What right does he have to be acting strange after pulling you apart for all to see?

The sky through the ceiling above you shifts quietly to purple as the sun sets, although anything but blue feels wrong in Takoba. Immediately at the thought, the red glow of the kitchens plays over the backs of your eyes and your focus darts down again to those dangerous hands you keep at a distance. Bakugou flexes them as he steps.

His big hands dance. At no more than a step or two behind your prince, marching together down the longest hallway you’ve ever seen, you can’t quite look away from his gold fists under the bottlegreen light. Truly, they are always fists. Always a threat and a reminder like an iron to a branded dog. His hands that cupped your face and pinched you close in the cursed kitchens, exalted by your fear. They lifted you like you weighed nothing and then they caged you in. His hands are only for pain. Playing tricks around a campfire. They are only good for fighting, sweaty and tickling with ripping explosions.

Bakugou pretends he can’t feel your warmth at his back as you drift closer.

Those are the hands that tore through a royal crowd and grabbed hold of your nightgown when they thought no one was around to see. They’re thick and violent– they’re soft. Your well-kept rage stirs as you remember. When they brushed your knuckles warm in a cream calm dream or gripped the fabric at your waist on horseback. Plucking splinters from your bloody cheeks. Gentle when they smothered the flames in your hair at the edge of the forest.

The prince jerks to a sudden stop and when you’re too busy watching the ripple of veins in his fingers, you bump into his back. You both flinch on contact; only at the touch do you realize your prince has been keeping you exactly as distant as you him and then that flinch becomes a fling of mismatched magnets when he snaps his head around, you raise yours, and your pair of fraught eyes meet in lieu of shouting. It aches like a strike to the temple.

In a second your prince is turned and down the hallway again towards a set of modest wooden doors still ages away. “Fucking airhead,” he rumbles. The first words all week. Nostalgia turns to ash in your throat.

The seaglass hallway stretches on like a draconian landing pad with no decoration past the stained glass ceiling. From your week of research this is the only path in all of Takoba Castle that leads straight to the ocean. Something about floodwaters and enemy attacks by sea means that this maze of a seashell at least serves a purpose and that this hallway must be special. Your mind races with the possibilities of what your prince has to do on the other side of it. You wish he would speak to you, and then you wince.

What do you miss? His hate-filled spew? You just wish to be rid of this silence you determine, and slow down behind him with generous distance when you both finally approach the exit.

As the prince pulls simple wooden doors apart a great gust of salted air blows the loose hairs around your face with a horrible tickle and where you expect the sea, iron and blue flowers stare back instead. You and your golden prince look over some kind of solemn garden suspended under the moon.

Aldera is a lush green kingdom, Takoba is a portside merchant city. You know nature and fields and crops. This garden is man-made and more than that it is poorly kept. Metal flower beds, soil spilling over their lips from holes dug by birds or damage done by sea winds, and eerily, no weeds. Maybe the sea doesn’t carry weeds like rivers do? Only one type of sad blue flower wilting like a bell. The garden is at least as large as Aizawa’s training pit and filled with copies of the same bellflower weeping up trellises or littering the ground but still it feels vast and empty. Like a cemetery with no more plots to offer.

It’s only you two in the cliffside clearing, not a royal in sight. Who summoned him? Bakugou keeps his back to you while stepping between the garden beds and you wonder if he is unsettled too. You’re glad he does not watch you while you begin to wander.

By all calculations this path should have led to the sea but when you approach the precarious edge of the garden there is still a five story drop between you and high tide. The castle is built on a bluff above the beach. A foundation of rock. Below even that, black water stretches spindly fingers in the sand.

Who is this place for? On one side of you, Takoba Castle’s white spires reach into the now-night sky and on the other a deadly drop into the sea. A single type of flower planted over and over again into boxes that could hardly keep them alive. When you happen a glance between your feet, you’re startled by the movement you can see under them. Candles flickering inside a great many feet below you. A garden with a glass floor.

The air becomes suddenly thick with realization as you scan what parts of the clearing aren’t shadowed by clouds passing over the moon. The one door you came through and a steep drop off the edge with no railings. A single way in but decidedly two ways out. This is no garden.

“Hey.”

Something is trying to distract you. Had it not been just the two of you out here, you never would have registered the quiet voice drifting low through the breeze as Bakugou. Gentle? When you don’t turn around he rumbles soft again, “Eyes.”

His second words all week. The sound is warm wool. Bakugou is trying to speak with you and where surprise at his voice should make your heart race, something much more sinister has settled on your pulse. You are not listening, in fact you cut him off with a wave of your hand instead of turning at his shockingly soft cadence.

“Highness, who sent for you?” You demand delicately, back still turned as you skim the ruined garden. This place is meant to be a prison. You shouldn’t be here. Who is it supposed to keep in?

Had you been watching him, you would have caught the prince’s jaw slack and then coil tight again with your dismissal. He holds himself tenser and tenser.

“Highness–” You try again, but his voice, noticeably less gentle, cuts you off.

“Eyes, not n–” It’s your prince’s turn to try again, but this time you spin around to keep him quiet and take the upper hand.

“We have to leave.”

Suddenly you’re approaching him in the center of the garden, weaving over spilt soil and sad flowers faster than he is able to stop you coming closer, and you don’t yet know that there’s a reason he drifted so far away before trying to speak. You are too busy identifying blindspots to notice him curling inward from rage. All you register is his lack of haste and it compounds a preexisting fury in your bones. You can parse out your feelings about his words later, about the way he called to you, about his tenor, about a thousand things– later. Strong is the sea air tonight.

The distance you kept between his hands and your body this week vanishes under the circumstances and now you are so close you should smell the sweet of his ignition begin to drip in anger. Instead you watch shadows over his shoulder and pause in front of him, “Who summoned you?”

“Will you–”

“Highness who–”

“Shut up!”

Faster than immediately, somehow simultaneously, your body registers his threat that you are so practiced in withstanding and you take a steadying step back, no longer hiding your gaze from that which wants to kill you. Up, up, up is his shadowed face and those tiny shining suns that have done too good of a job until now, in protecting him.

The last time you watched each other like this you feared you might have to hurt him. He is a bit taller, he is much more beautiful than you. You wish you could have known him. It is only one terrible second before the shouting begins but in it is your prince’s final moments of softness, what might be fragility under the reds of his eyes, what looks like worry at the corners of his lips, washed over by crimson fumes like an eclipse or the death of a star.

“Highness–”

“Be quiet.”

But you have already had your fill of his golden cheeks and so you turn with your arm outstretched in the direction of the door, “We need to–”

“Are you fucking demented?” He growls. He does not budge. He stares and you no longer have the patience for him. It is slipping from you like sand.

“Walk and talk my prince, we have–”

“Excuse–?”

“Highness,” you hiss back at him and steady your hand on the hilt of your short sword.

You’ve pushed too far because oh how he bites the air now. He spits, “If you cannot–”

“I cannot–”

“– listen–” 

“Come, now.”

“You will listen when I speak.”

“You do not speak to me!” And how you bite back.

He rushes you.

The prince is threatening in the best of situations and when the wall of his body obliterates the space between you, your arms move faster than you’re able to control as they pull your sword from its scabbard. Bakugou flies against your blade as you raise it, pressing his own chest against the flat steel you keep vertical in defense. You hate to admit that he scares you.

“You will lose the fight you pick with me,” you murmur close enough to taste the air he breathes too close. He does not fight back or raise his hands and sparks do not come to life around you. At your back, Jeanist’s halberd itches to hunt.

“And you will lower your weapon.”

“I am your mother’s soldier, not yours.”

Bakugou bares his teeth to the realization that your obedience has only been a courtesy to this point. Pillowed chest to yours, you are close enough to feel the rumblings of his ribcage. Of his biceps as he holds them still at his sides like two great snakes that would like nothing more than to kill you. Dripping fists. You can see it in the tremble of his throat, his resisting a thousand things, screaming, flying, eating you alive, biting down into the meat of your neck that his lips brush as he bows into your blade– all at once like an implosion. What is he holding back?

“Then run back home to your queen.”

“You are my responsibility.”

“Oh yeah my hero,” he swells and pressed deeper, drawing blood, “my little captain–”

The nickname from the night in the kitchens cracks the wax seal of your rage before it can even melt and in seconds you’re losing the fight to contain your ancient violence. Blade now cutting through his tunic and Bakugou still does not pull back. He does not raise his own weapon or his magic and his hands don’t reach for you.

“Check that ego, Eyes.”

“I am doing my job!”

“You! The havoc wreaker, charged with my protection? Careful not to make me laugh Captain or I might just slit my throat.”

The threat oozing from this garden is as far as a thought has ever been from your mind while it is otherwise filled with curses. Could you kill him? You will bite through your tongue before holding it. Every time he calls you captain something inside heaves like the sea.

“Do you tire of torture?”

“You think yourself so special?”

“You are a beast!”

“You are insufferable!”

“You suffer my charity easily enough!”

You almost want to wince at the shape your prince’s lips make when he remembers the weight of your earrings and he presses so deep into the curve of your body and blade that your foreheads bump in threat.

“Run away home.”

“You are not my queen and not my master.”

“And you are still Alderan!” He snaps sweet, “You are my responsibility!”

Sparks come like tears to Bakugou’s eyes and his canines shine when he bares them to you, too close to see the details of his delicate face. 

“I am your prince and she’s not here! She is not fighting for her life in Takoba– Fuck the queen!”

“You–!”

“You!”

“You are cruel!”

“And you are mine.”

Somehow the ocean falls. The world stops turning and at the words neither you nor your prince make a single sound.

His scowl melts to shock, jeweled eyes first slits and now wide under slack brows. Blade to his neck and still Bakugou’s hands do not crackle and your breath hardly comes when you need it, and you want to touch him– strike him– you think you might kiss him. You think he might let you, and then comes a voice from the sea.

“Get a room.”

In a shadowed corner of the glass garden your blue ghost bends at the waist to smell bellflowers. His hair is white.

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#bakugou x reader #a hymn to black water #bakugo x reader #bnha #mha #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au

[aaronhotchswife]

BABYSITTING AT HOTCH'S

A/N : This one shot is settled in season 7 (because even if every seasons Hotch does something to me, this one is🧎🏻‍♀️) and even if I absolutely ADORE Beth, for the purpose of the story she's not in a relationship with Aaron 🫶🏼

TW : smut, dom Hotch/sub reader, chocking, a nal fingering, unprotected sex (pls be careful)

-------

"No, it's alright. I'll find someone. Yes, thank you. Have a good evening too."

Aaron hung up the phone, sighing.

"Everything ok Hotch ?" you asked, as you enter his office.

"Ah yes. I have a meeting for budget tonight and Jess can't babysit Jack so I need to find someone. Don't worry about that. What's going on ?"

"I have these files for you." you responded, hanging him the files. "You know, if it could help you, I can watch Jack tonight."

"I can't let you do that. It's Friday night, you probably have plans."

"C'mon Hotch. You know how Jack and I like each other. And even if I am a woman in my 20s, everything Friday nights I just want to go home and watch Netflix, especially with the weeks we have." you laughed slightly.

"I get that." he chuckled. "Are you sure ? I mean, I would like that but I don't want you to feel obligated."

"I would be happy to help." you said to him, a soft smile on your lips.

"It's settled then. Do you think you could go pick him up at school ? I'll call them to let him know."

"No problem, sir."

You knew Jack since a couple years now. He always liked you and everytime he went to the BAU he was always happy to draw at your desk and your drawer was filled with his masterpieces. It was nice to hang out with him, talking about his school drama and honestly spending a friday night with a kid was in your opinion, a lot better than spending it with Tinder dates. So spending your Friday night with him wasn't a chore at all.

-------

"Hey Jack! You know that your Dad's triathlon is soon right ? What would you think if we make him signs ?" you told Jack, while he was washing his hands.

"Oh yes!!! It's such a good idea !"

"Great! Where do you guys keep the crafting stuff?"

Jack took your hand and showed you a drawer in his bedroom with colored pencils and glitters and all. You took all that you guys going to need and walked downstairs to the kitchen. You spend most of the night helping Jack creating his banner, only stopping to cook dinner. He helped you cleaning the kitchen before taking his bath and asking you for a bedtime story.

"And they lived happily ever after." you read softly, before closing the book.

Jack was peacefully sleeping, still holding onto your arm. You left a sweet kiss of his forehead, wishing him good night before going downstairs to wait for Hotch.

-------

When Aaron came home later that night, he walked to the living room where he found you asleep on the couch, a blanket draped to your body, hair in your face, Before he could stop himself, his eyes trailed the expanse of skin that you’d left exposed. He never realized how beautiful you look, especially in that dimed light, so peacefully sleeping. He tried to do as little noise as possible as he walked towards you, replacing your hair behind your ear. He decided to go look on Jack, telling himself he'll wake you up after. He was sleeping serenely, his Star Wars night light illuminating the room. He wished him a good night buddy before closing the door. When Aaron saw you again, you were in the same position, breathing evenly. He tried whispering your name but nothing could make you move. Not knowing what got into him, he took you bridal style in his arms, carefully, for you to not wake up and he walked towards to guest bedroom, where you'll be a lot more comfortable. He didn't want to wake you up, sleep was important especially with your job and you look so peaceful that waking you up was not a option. In the guest bedroom, he tucked you in, hesitating before leaving a light kiss on your forehead and wished you good night, before closing the door. He suprised himself with a feeling in his stomach from the way you were laid in one of his bed, beautifully sleeping.

You woke up the next morning in a room you didn't know. With the smell of the bed sheets, you realize you probably fell asleep at Hotch's house but the fact the you're in a bed is something you can't remember. You got up, streching your arms and yawning before going downstairs to the kitchen. You see Jack watching cartoons and Aaron in the kitchen, making coffee.

"Good morning." you said, shyly.

"Hey, good morning. I'm sorry, you fell asleep on the couch and I didn't want to wake you up, so I put you in the bed instead. For you to be more comfortable you know...Hope it was ok." he responded timidly.

"Oh. Yeah, yeah. Sorry I didn't want to fell asleep. Rough week." you chuckled, a bit suprised by his answer. "How was your meeting ?"

"Well, you know how the superiors are." he said, smiling softly. "Want coffee?"

"Yes please, that would be great."

"There you go." he grins, handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled, taking your first sip. "So Jack wants pancake for breakfast, do you want to eat with us ? I mean it's Saturday, we don't have work to do...yet." he tells you.

You were a bit taken aback by his proposition. Not that you didn't want to eat with them but eating breakfast at your boss's house seemed like a weird idea. But it was Saturday and pancakes couldn't hurt and you kinda wanted to spend more time with him.

The three of you sat at the table, Jack speaking about what he wanted to do today. The weather wasn't really on your side, rain falling hard outside. It was a bit too domestic for you to be sitting at the table with your hot boss and his child. But you didn't know that Aaron felt the same. You seemed to noticed that he looked more relaxed when Jack is there, his usual frown on his face not visible, making jokes and being all paternal. It was weird seeing him like that. Of course you see Jack often but it's always at work so you never had the chance to see him really being a father.

"Dad, can we watch a movie today ?" Jack asked, his mouth full of pancakes.

"Of course buddy, what would you wanna watch?"

"Mmmh, The Little Mermaid ! Can Y/N watch it with us dad ?"

You almost chocked on your sip when you heard Jack asking that. Hotch seemed clearly taken aback with his demand as you.

"Well, if she wants, I mean, do you want to ?" Hotch asks, looking at you.

"Well, The Little Mermaid was one of my favourite movie when I was younger so why not. As long as I'm not interrupting."

"It was ?!" Jack asked, amazed. "Dad looks like Prince Eric don't you think?"

"Hahaha, yeah I can see it." you responded, looking at Aaron, his cheeks getting red.

After breakfast you help Hotch cleaning the kitchen while Jack was playing Lego, waiting for the two of you to be ready for the movie. The thunder outside made the ambiance cozy as you sat on the sofa. Aaron joined, sitting next to Jack who was happy to cuddle his father.

Even if you loved The Little Mermaid and knew the movie by heart, watching movies during the day wasn't really doing it for you. Especially after eating, the chances of you falling asleep were high. Hotch seemed to notice that as you fell asleep right on his shoulder. He didn't dare to move, you looking too cute your head on his shoulder.

"Y/N." Aaron murmured, shaking you a little. "The movie's over."

"Aaron." you said, sleepily.

The use of his first name was unusual for you. Always calling him Hotch or sir or boss, but never Aaron. The feeling he had in his stomach the night before was back and he couldn't push it away.

"Where's Jack?"

"JJ's house. Henri called for a playdate." Hotch answered, his eyes in yours.

He couldn't help but look at you, all shy on his sofa. Your cheeks getting red, your eyes in his and slowly looking down to his lips. You always knew he was beautiful, always looking at him at work, at his features. But you never knew he looked that beautiful, dressing normally, in his living room, so close one another. Before you knew it, your lips were on his, tasting the sweet taste of pancakes and the dry taste of his coffee. The kiss was soft, rather inquisitive, both of your lips learning each others. When you both back off to take a breath, you gazed up at him, flustered, a small shy smile on your lips.

"You are so pretty." Aaron murmured, his forehead on yours.

"So are you." you said chuckling a little.

He chuckled slightly, not believing he was kissing you, leaving a couple of kisses on your forehead, down to your jaw before going back to your mouth. The kiss was more heated and his hands quickly found their way to your hips, pressing them slightly. This action made a moan come out your mouth and Aaron couldn't help himself from bitting your lower lips.

"Come here." he murmured, pointing his lap.

You did as asked, grinding yourself on him, feeling him getting hard. His mouth moved to your neck, nibbling on your sweet spot near your ear.

"Want to continue this in the bedroom ? I mean, if you want of course." he asked, his lips on your ear.

You follow him in his bedroom, anticipating what's going to happen. Hotch pushed you gently on the bed before hovering you, his lips on your jaw and his hands on your hips. Grinding himself a little on you, he moved his mouth to your collarbone, sucking on your skin. Your hands found their way on his back, tucking on his shirt to take it off.

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked, his eyes in yours.

"I do. Please."

"How do you wanna do it ?"

"I want you to do everything you want to me Aaron."

His hand went between your legs, grabbing the place where you wanted him the most. You could feel yourself being wet, cyprine making it's way to your thighs. He helped you take off his shirt and yours, his eyes going down on your breast covered in your lace emerald bra. Your chest was raising up and down, your hands cupping his face. Aaron kept his eyes in yours before kissing down your chest, unclipping your bra, moving his lips to the hem of your jeans. He looked at you, as if he was asking for permission. You nodded slightly, wanting him to put his mouth down there already.

"Words baby."

"Yes please Aaron."

He took off your pants, kissing your stomach before kissing down your thighs, pushing them apart slowly. He left a kiss on your panties, your respiration becoming more and more rapid. He pulled your panties aside, licking a long strip from your folds. You moaned, hands gripping his hair. He then placed his lips against your folds, nibbling against your clit. He pushed one finger in, then two, your hips rocking against his mouth, wanting more. Sucking your clit, he lifted your legs on his shoulders, weighting your torso down on the bed with one hand on your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming more and more loud and you knew you would be cumming soon. Aaron knew it too because his mouth left your core to leave small kisses near your hips.

"On your knees." he ordered.

You did as asked, unzipping his pants before taking off his boxers. You told yourself he was big but not that big. You gasp in suprise, making Aaron chuckled.

"What's going on sweetheart ? Too big for you ? You're gonna open your mouth and make it fit like a good girl."

You nodded, approaching your lips to his member but he stopped yourself, tucking of your hair.

"When I speak I want an answer. Are you gonna suck my dick like a good girl?"

"Yes."

"Yes who?" he asked, his hands putting your hair in a make shift ponytail.

"Yes sir."

You kissed his balls, moving your lips to his member, keeping eye contact with him. You sucked on his head before taking him all in your mouth, his head going deep into your throat making you gag. He pushed your head slightly, making back and forth movements. Salive coming out your mouth, your mascara running down your cheeks.

"Fuck. You look so pretty on your knees for me. I'm gonna cum and you're gonna swallow everything alright ?"

You took his dick out of your mouth to answer him, crying a yes sir before taking him back in your mouth. His respiration was twitching and you could hear him groaned, his cock twitching in your mouth. A hot substance making it's way down your throat. You stuck your tongue out to proved to him that you swallowed everything.

"Go on the bed, on your hands and knees."

Positioning yourself on all four, you almost screamed when his hand slapped your ass, hearing Aaron chuckled at your reaction. His fingers runned down your pussy, his mouth finding it's way between your folds again. You couldn't help but moaned, the sensation being too good.

"I want to put my mouth and my fingers everywhere, in all your holes. Would you be okay with that?" he asked, fingers in your pussy.

"Yes sir."

Without you saying more, he put his tongue on your asshole, licking it.

"Gonna make it nice and ready for my thumb, right sweetheart ?"

You couldn't talk, only responding by a moan. The feeling of his tongue down there was so good, better than anything you had before. You felt his thumb running near your asshole before entering you. You couldn't help but make a muffled pleasure scream, rocking your ass on his finger. His thumb in your ass and his tongue in your pussy was a combination you could only dreamed about.

"Mmmh, you taste so good, like I imagined it."

This did it for you, hearing him say he imagined doing these things to you. Before you knew it, you came on in mouth and fingers.

"Oh my baby made a mess. She will help cleaning that right ?" he said, his fingers on your lips making you open your mouth to suck on his fingers. He kissed you, his tongue fighting for dominance. His lips moved to your ear, murmuring sweet things to you.

"I'll fuck you good baby, and you're gonna take all of me in you. I'll fuck you until you become a mess in your boss's bed."

His hands reached your ass, spreading your thighs slightly before pushing himself in you. He was so big and you let out a cry. His fingers brushed your hair, letting you time to adjust yourself to his size. He kissed your ear, before thrusting slowly.

"Is this alright love ? I'm not too rough on you ?" he murmured in your ear.

The way he was dominating but at the same thing caring for you to feel safe was something that could create butterflies in your stomach.

"It's good Aaron. You make me feel so good, I promise."

You heard his chuckled slighty, still thrusting slowly into you.

"Harder."

"Beg for it."

"Please sir, I need you to fuck me harder please."

He didn't need more than that for him to thrust harder, his balls punching against your pussy. Both of your were moaning and your moans became louder when his fingers found their way to your clit, pinching it. His thrust were becoming sloppier each time and the familiar knot in your stomach was back.

"I'm gonna fill you up." you heard him say, one of his hand grabbing your throat, squeezing it softly. His other hand grabbed your nipple, pinching it. Your fingers found their way to your clit, finishing the job he first started. A few moments later, you felt the hot substance in your core, cumming at the same time.

Aaron fell next to you, his hand tracing little circles on your shoulders.

"Thank you for that." you looked up to him, shyly.

The confidence you had during your sexy moment was now gone and you couldn't help but feel shy, even if he just fucked the hell out of you.

"I've been dreaming of doing that for a long time." he smiled, his fingers brushing your hair behing your ear.

"What does that mean for us ?"

"What do you mean?" he frowned.

"Well at work...and in real life."

"Well, at work we could sign some papers but for starters what would you say if I asked you out on a date first ?"

You blushed, kissing his nose before agreeing.

"But first I want another round, soft this time." you murmured.

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds smut #thomas gibson #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner smut

[sonicslushie]

When the Devil's Calling Pt. 1~P.P.

Summary: Y/n Stark is something of a nightcrawler, what happens when her antics become a little too much? 

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

A/N: we’re gonna say the reader and peter are both over the age of 18 in this for my sanity’s sake. slooooooow burn on this one and lots of angst, that’s just how Miley makes me feel lol. Based off of some songs off of Miley’s Plastic Hearts album.

part 2 is out now, also here’s a playlist to listen to as u read

TW: drinking and drug abuse, what reads like a suicide attempt but i promise it’s not (you'll see), peter doesn’t show up until the very end, probably some grammar mistakes

Word Count: 2.8k

“Did you hear about that Tony Stark’s kid? She was caught hooking up in a bathroom at some bar again. I swear she’s turning out just like her father.” 

“Junior Stark; arrested for public intoxication… What is this? The 4th or 5th time?” 

“I saw Y/n Stark down at the bar off 31st, and you will never guess what she was doing! Bumped a line then took a shot off of a stranger. I didn’t think the rumors were true.” 

“Stark’s kid is in the news again, knocked a guy out with one punch over a seat at the bar, she never fails to amaze, huh?” 

Rumors. That’s what it started with. Rumors that Tony Stark’s daughter was out almost every night of the week drinking or doing drugs, hooking up with strangers. Or at least, your father thought they were rumors, until he started seeing you headline the news or on the cover of scandal magazines looking like you weren’t even aware of your surroundings. Of course, you knew the so-called “rumors” were true. Honestly, the tabloids didn’t even know half of the truth. But to be frank- you didn’t care. 

You didn’t care that the media had this bad perception of you, if anything it aided you. To be one of the most well known billionaire and superhero’s daughters wasn’t exactly what you expected it to be. Everything you did from the time the world accidentally found out about you was scrutinized, giving your father all the credit for your accomplishments. If everything they were going to say was going to be bad, why not give them something to truly write about. 

That’s exactly what you did. 

It started around the age of 17, it was easy to come by a fake I.D. and a few extra dollars to slip any bouncer who might have known who you were. They say money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell buys booze and silence. The first time you went out was actually because your friends wanted to see this local band at a bar not too far from your place, so why the hell not? The music was what kept you going out, it thrummed through your veins, as did the alcohol, which might have had a positive effect for the mediocre band. Bodies moved together, nobody seemed to care who you were, or better yet, who your father was. Everyone was there for two reasons; to get drunk and dance. You lived for it. 

The feeling of drunken freedom took hold of you, filled every part of you that seemed to be lacking. No thoughts of living up to Tony Stark’s image, no thoughts of your late mother, nothing of the responsibilities you held in your everyday life. In those bars you were just you under a fake name, living through the music and kissing strangers and free to just exist. 

It was fun, so you kept doing it. Once every weekend turned into entire weekends, turned into every other day of the week, turned into every night. Sometimes you wouldn’t come home for days on in, night crawling turned into going home with a different stranger every night. You fed the media lies until they weren’t lies anymore. It was just the sorry truth that turned into your life. 

But the truth that was way deep down inside never surfaced when you were fucked up. So you kept doing it. 

That is, until one day your dad held an “intervention”. Really it was just him locking you in a room with him and scolding you for being so reckless. Lasted for hours. He even called Steve to lecture you- which if you’ve ever had a Steve lecture you know it’s the worst possible thing in the world. Every bit of old wise man slang was used, and had you not been high out of your mind, you probably would have crawled your own eardrums out just to stop the ridiculous mix of your dad and Steve scolding you about the only thing that made you feel better. 

Did it stop you though? 

Nope. 

Today was no different, you got ready in your nicest going out clothes, hair all done up and makeup on, even had a throwback playlist playing as you got ready. (Katy Perry and Taylor Swift are the best hype women out there.) Everything was normal, a few shots to pregame, then you were ready to see the night. 

That is, until you hit the first bar, one right around the corner from the Stark Tower, a locally owned gay bar that was one of your favorites. Now that you were 21, you didn’t even need your fake and most of the bouncers knew you from the various times they’ve seen you there. But this time, they didn’t let you in. 

“You’re banned,” one of your favorite bouncers, Jimmy, said to you as you were about to walk past him. You stopped dead in your tracks, they were playing one of your favorite songs and all you wanted to do was get a tequila sunrise and dance. 

“Huh?” Was all you could get out before another bounce- Brody- stepped in your way. 

“You’ve been banned. Sorry girl, but it’s from the higher ups.” Jimmy says, looking guilty. No this wasn’t going to stop you from having a good night, and honestly it’s not like it hasn’t happened to you before. If we’re going to be completely honest, you blacked out last time you were here, and when that happens it’s safe to say they probably had a good reason to ban you. 

So you sighed and walked away, no need to make a scene at the best bar in New York. 

You decided to go a little further, a few blocks away was another good bar. Not your fav, but it’ll definitely get the job done. You wait in line, and finally when it’s your turn to go in, you get stopped again. 

“Sorry ma’am, you’ve been banned.” The bouncer says, not even looking guilty this time. 

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask, this time your blood started to boil as the shots you took before you left started hitting. 

“You heard me.” He said, then started talking to the girls behind you, who recognized you and were starting to talk. Fucking great. 

But you tried to keep your cool as you ordered an Uber, this time you were going to go to Manhattan. You haven’t been there in a few months, there’s no way you’d be banned from any of those bars, right? 

Wrong. 

Bar after bar rejected you, and after the 11th one, you lost your cool. 

“You’re banned, get lost.” The bouncer said to you, the rudest out of all the ones you had spoken to that night. And after 11 attempts, you were beyond pissed. The mix of the shots starting to wear off, the bouncer telling you to get lost, and the music you aren’t able to dance to playing in the background just got to you. Before you could even process it, you punch the bouncer. Then you swipe his legs out from under him (a move Natasha taught you), then you kicked the man while he was down, shouting something about how you “just want to dance” and “you can’t do this to me” and “someone’s going to get their asshole ripped out of them and stuffed into their piehole”. 

In your rageful fit, the police were called and there in a split second, pulling you away from the bouncer who just got all of your wrath, and you were hauled away. 

Only you weren’t taken to jail, like many times before. You were dropped off at the Stark Tower, your father waiting on you right outside the doors. 

Oh. Oh. 

He had done this. He had gotten you banned from all the bars within a 30 minute drive, probably in all of New York. As the police unhandcuffed you and told you to thank your dad for not being taken to jail, all you saw was red. Completely sober you was not a nice you, and that’s where you were at now. And all of your anger was pointed at one person; your father. 

Once the police left, you stomped up to your father, “How dare you-” 

“We’ve already talked about this. Get inside.” He says, absolutely no emotion in his voice. Tony Stark was not an easy person to piss off, especially hard for his daughter to piss him off, but he was done. He had enough of you embarrassing him in the media, you were all his colleagues talked about while he was around. All you were doing was ruining your life when you had every opportunity to be successful and looked up to. This is what it had come to. 

“You’re not even going to listen to what I have to say?” You ask, following him inside the lobby. He shakes his head, “Honestly I don’t care what you have to say, Y/n. You’ve done enough. Tomorrow, you’re going to work with me and get your life together. This conversation is done.” 

“No it’s not- Tony!” You try to follow him onto the elevator but he closes it on you, saying something to FRIDAY about a meeting he has to attend and to not let you leave this building. You stand there, dumbfounded. He had never treated you like this, and all you could feel was rage. Somewhere deep down, sadness started to bubble up but you pushed it down. You had liquor in your room, that would do for the night. Maybe some kicking and punching a dummy in the training room would help too. 

You waited on the elevator, and finally it came back to take you up to your room. On the way up you try to plan your revenge but the only thing you could think of was the disappointment in your dad’s face when he saw you step out of the police car. Sure he had looked at you like that before, but never with so much sadness behind his eyes. You’ve never really seen sadness like that in your dad since your mom died, and it really just hurt. That sadness being because of you was never your intention, it hit a little too close to home. 

You stepped off the elevator, shaking the tears away from your eyes. Alcohol, that was the plan. You just needed to find your stash under your bed compartment and-

It was gone. It was all gone. 

At first you just stood there, once again dumbfounded. How many times in one night was this going to happen, I mean seriously? Of course he thought of everything he’s your dad, he knows you almost as well as you know yourself. And while you called it your “secret stash” it wasn’t so secret. For the daughter of a genius, hiding it under your bed compartment was not the best move. 

Before you could even move for the door, FRIDAY says over the intercom, “Mr. Stark has asked me to keep you in the Tower and away from any substance that will take away your sobriety. I have locked your door, it will unlock at 7 am. Have a goodnight, Ms. Stark.” 

“‘Have a goodnight, Ms. Stark,’” you mock the AI, spinning around and falling onto your bed. 

“I heard that and I did not appreciate it,” FRIDAY says,  you grab a pillow and scream into it. First your dad, now FRIDAY is disappointed in you. This was going to be the worst night of your life. 

You leave the pillow on your face, but throw your arms down like an angry toddler. The immediate escalation of your thoughts surprised you, the fact that FRIDAY seemed mad at you- if an AI can even get mad at a human- was a tipping point. You were used to everyone else being upset with you, but FRIDAY? She was always in your corner. It hurt that everyone in your life seemed to be disappointed in you, always had been in fact.

You moved the pillow, needing air as tears threatened to fall. Nobody cared to ask why you went out every night and got fucked up. Nobody cared to ask why you never attended “family” dinners, never made any attempt to be friendly with your dad’s friends and teammates, anything. If they cared enough to want you to stop, why didn’t they ask you how you felt? 

The fact of the matter was, you were never the same after your mother died. Your father was happier when she was alive, more attentive with you, made time. After, he fell into his work, leaving you- an 8 year old- to mourn your mother by yourself. He had Happy spend a lot of time with you, and you loved Happy, but he wasn’t your father. Your dad was the only one who truly knew how you felt, felt all the pain that you did, but he did nothing to help you. There would be days you wouldn’t see him, and little 8 year old you didn’t know how to get over the death of your mother. You ended up bottling it up because that’s what it looked like Tony was doing. It became hard to even talk about your mother, so you decided to pretend like it didn’t happen. It was like a flick of a switch, one day you were crying all day long, the next you were quiet, more reserved than you had ever been. You stayed like that until that fateful day you went to the bar with your friends. 

But it didn’t matter now. 

Everything that made you feel better was gone, everything made you forget and just live in the moment- done. Honestly it was worse than jail, you were locked in your own head with no way out. Everything just felt numb. 

You were moving towards your balcony without thinking, a tablet in your hands to turn off the cameras and FRIDAY’s access to your room. You stood on your balcony, looking at the city that laid in front of you. The lights were so pretty, the skyline dark and blissful. You wanted that bliss. 

Lord only knows how long you stood out there before you climbed up on the edge of your balcony, unrelenting tears streaming down your face. You stood, trying to keep your balance. Feeling the slight breeze on your body was nice until- 

You slip, a scream escaping your lips. 

Dear god, this was it, you were going to die. You didn’t actually plan on jumping off of the edge, you just wanted to feel something that wasn’t sadness or anger. A rush of something that might take your sober mind off of all the heartache. 

You screamed and screamed, you lived on one of the highest floors and in your terror the fall felt like forever. Of course even your death was going to take a long time, just your luck. 

Your screaming was cut off but something running into you, or rather catching you. Your eyes had squeezed shut, bracing for the impact of the hard concrete. You forced your eyes open as you felt your body going up, in the arms of someone. 

You were met with a masked man who you’ve seen in the media- Spiderman. He looked down at you, not saying a word as he swung you to a nearby roof. 

He lands, still holding you as if afraid that if he let go, you would go flying off this roof too. After a breathless second you say, “Thank you.” 

“I- you’re welcome, Y/n.” He says, saying your name like it was something sweet on his tongue. Of course he knew who you were, you were all over the media and your father employed him. You were just glad he didn’t say your name how everyone else said it, with disappointment or anger.

 He put you down gently, still holding onto as you wobble and shake from the anxiety of almost falling to your death.

“Look, I know what it looked like, but I promise I wasn’t trying to… You know.” You say quietly, looking down at his gloved hands still holding your arms gently. It wasn’t something you were used to; gentle. The strangers you took home were always so aggressive and full of lust, but you didn’t get that feeling from the masked hero. He did it out of the goodness of his heart. He was kind. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. I’m just glad you're okay.” He says, his thumb rubbing your arm in a comforting manner. When was the last time you’ve been held like this? God it must have been years ago. It was a foreign feeling, but somewhat nice. 

“Well, thank you again…” You say, silently asking for his name. You know that he has a secret identity, but seeing as your father employs the guy, you figure it’s only a matter of time before you find out anyway. 

He takes his mask off to reveal a dude around your age, eyes locking with yours.

“Peter. Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

~

Part 2

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x you #spiderman fanfic #peter parker fanfic

[pip-n-chips]

The Harper pregnancy asks got my brain juices flowing so please indulge me for a hot minute.

What if PC got married down the road and it turns out that her spouse is infertile. Spouse seems blissfully unaware and PC thinks it's on her end it out so she approaches Harper for help. Who initially sees this as an opportunity to just make some more cash via pictures or videos (the way he does during his Friday visits in game) and test some new fertility drugs he's cooked up. While she's happily taking them, Harper is looking through his list of regulars to find matches who look closer to PC's spouse. Can't have the kid looking TOO different, right? And he prides himself on providing excellent service.

He starts inviting her over twice a week under the guise of treating her infertility while in reality, he's hypnotizing her and letting her get fucked by his regulars. Really, just a way to make some quick cash. He's not TOO emotionally involved in this.

But our good doctor pretty much starts salivating when PC does end up pregnant and shows up for regular check ups. He cannot stop touching her belly, maybe shows her how to knead her breasts to help with lactation later on, takes so many measurements and asks invasive questions, is just a general creep who is quickly becoming obsessed with having PC carry his kid. He's so mad at his past self, he should have been the one to knock her up, everything else be damned. He can hypnotize her still, sure, and he does so (rubbing his dick all over the curve of her belly. Making her use her growing breasts. Having her bounce on his dick later on and Harper rubs his hands all over her, he cannot get enough) but it's just not the same.

So when PC shows up again a year or two after having the first kid, looking down and miserable because her and her spouse have been trying again but it seems the treatment needs to be reapplied, Harper jumps on the opportunity. He becomes obsessed the second PC says 'We'd like to have another baby'. He acts all sympathetic and soothing and reassures her that he will look into it again, to please come back in a week. Because he wants to prepare for this properly. Meanwhile, his mind switched to the fast lane and his thoughts are racing. No way he's contacting his regulars again. This time, it'll be his child. He can potentially explain away the looks by going 'PC is an orphan, maybe the kid got their looks from PC's parents' and he is curious to see how his child's pregnancy data/stats would compare to the other one but that's when it hits him. He can give PC stronger meds. Give her additional shots. She could have twins. Maybe triplets.

Harper's hand is down his pants before he can stop himself.

He'll fuck her so well. Fill up her aching, empty womb, again and again and again. Maybe hypnotize her and make her stay after hours so he can truly indulge. Take a video of her sitting on an examination table, legs spread and gaze glassy. Harper instructing her to say things like 'I'm going to be impregnated by Doctor Harper today. I couldn't be happier' or 'Doctor, please, come inside of me.' She'd look so pretty and big and she'd have to visit him so often to make sure the pregnancy is progressing as intended. He might get to indulge himself every day. Take so many pictures. Let his hands roam, chart every inch of skin and jot down the results. Get his mouth on her breasts. He really could induce early lactation this time around, drink her creamy milk, get samples for his research.

Harper cannot fucking wait.

The next appointment PC shows up for, Harper's waiting for her with a smile and some very good news. (And maybe, just maybe, he is already planning her third pregnancy.)

holy shit, anon

Harper isn't the only one salivating anymore cuz hot damn

#i love hearing y'all's thoughts and writing and stuff!! its like youre knocking on my door and giving me free food #and this food is VERY VERY tasty #degrees of lewdity #harper the doctor #ask #anon #others writing #cw pregnancy #thirsty #hnnnnnnnnnghhhhhhhhh /positive

[hellfirebabe666]

Be My Sweetheart

Eddie Munson x goth!Reader(using she/her pronouns in fic. no use of y/n) Word Count: 1k+ Warnings: absolute none to report just fluff if I'm honest

Hawkins High was abuzz with the upcoming Valentine's Sweethearts Dance that had just about every student trying to find their "sweetheart" and their way of inviting their dance partner was the Valentine's candy grams that the school was selling. A box of conversation hearts with a rose. Sure, it wasn't fancy, but this was high school after all.

The candy grams were set to go out just a few days before Valentine's Day with the dance itself taking place on that love filled holiday evening. As such you had all cliques in the cafeteria going on about the plans of who they were wanting to invite to the dance. Eddie Munson, the head of the school's resident D&D club was sitting at their respective table attempting to go over plans for their next meeting before the youngsters in the crew began to talk amongst themselves about their Sweethearts Dance plans.

"So you're buying one for Max, right," Mike asked nudging Lucas who was looking unsure. "Maybe. She's still mad at me about something. I can't even remember what now but she's been giving me the cold shoulder for a week," he sulked. "Maybe she's on her period," Dustin stated. Lucas just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Look man, maybe the candy gram will make up for it," Mike suggested.

Eddie slammed his palms on the table shaking the treys of his other members to shake the boys attention back. "Come on, freshmen, we need to focus here. Enough with the corporate holiday crap," Eddie said as the boys drew their attention back to their leader. "Come on, Eddie. Valentine's Day can be fun. You just hate it because you're not with anyone," Dustin chuckled.

Eddie shook is head, "Oh dear Henderson you sweet sweet summer child. I don't hate it because I'm not with anyone, I hate it because it's just an excuse to spend money on gifts to proclaim your love but really it's just an excuse for marketing and upselling to shmucks who don't know any better." Dustin rolled his eyes a scoffed, "Whatever you say, Eddie. All I know is there's a particular goth girl who has been eyeing you for weeks now."

Eddie tilts his head looking at the curly headed kid and moves closer grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt to bring him closer to him as he spoke, "Say that again, Henderson?" Dustin swallowed nervously and spoke up, "Uh y-you know Robin's friend that goth chick that is like...super quiet? She uh, she likes you." Eddie's eyes widened at that admission. Robin's friend was something of an enigma in that she was hard to get a read on and she was just so shy. But Robin did speak very highly of her when she was brought up in conversation and the handful of times Eddie got to talk to her she seemed alright. Apparently she was really gifted in art and funny once she got comfortable around you.

"Henderson, where did you find this out and were you planning to tell me any sooner," Eddie asked Dustin loosening his grip on his shirt and finally letting him go as he settled back in his seat. Dustin smoothed out his shirt and glanced around hoping Robin and her friend weren't within ear shot. "Kinda heard her talking to Robin at Family Video a little while ago. She doesn't think you'd be interested. And honestly I wasn't sure it as my place to tell you at all." Eddie nodded slowly in understanding and looked over a few tables away where he saw Robin and the girl that was the topic of conversation.

She was cute. Dark hair down to her shoulders, a nose stud adorning her face and she always had graphic liner. Eddie had seen her in passing around school and he always thought looked cool but never had the opportunity to really speak to her more often considering she really kept to herself and her limited friend group. But once Dustin made him aware of your feelings his eyes lit up with an idea and he quickly bolted for the table just outside of the cafeteria where student council members were selling candy grams. Eddie knew what he was going to do. Sure he was buying into the bullshit, but he wanted to make her smile.

Days passed and it was lunch period time only today was the day student council members were delivering the candy grams to the respective students they were sent to. Eddie watched from the Hellfire table as they made their rounds and one made a stop at Robin and your table stopping before handing you a rose and box of conversation hearts. Robin's eyes widened, "Oh my god who's it from?" She asks frantically attempting to snatch the conversation hearts out of your hand to read the message but you were quick to avoid as you moved to turn the box over.

Be my sweetheart to the dance on Friday? -EM

And along with is was a heart with an arrow drawn through it. You looked at wide eyed and then looked up from your table and that's when you saw Eddie who was now approaching your table. He had a smirk on his face as he approached. Robin gasped and immediately whispered, "I'm going to go over there and I swear to god you better give me full details later!" She scolded you before rushing off tuning out your minor attempt to protest.

Eddie takes the seat next to you on the bench, "Hey." He said simply. "Hi Eddie," you said quietly looking at him. "So, how about it? Think you would want to go to the dance? Of course no pressure, we don't even have to go to the dance honestly. But I would like to take you out some time. What do you say?" He looks at you tilting his head and smiling feeling hopeful of your answer.

You couldn't help but giggle slightly and give him a big smile, "I would love to go the dance with you, but of course only if you're comfortable. No pressure," you repeat his words back and smile. He grabs your hands in his and looks at you and it gives you butterflies. "I'd love to take you to the dance, sweets. Gotta show off my hot date after all," he winks and squeezes my hands lightly.

"Well I look forward to it," you say and lean in to kiss his cheek which catches him off guard but the grin on his face after was absolutely cartoonish and you couldn't help but giggle again.

Yep, he was an absolute goner.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #valentine's day fic #stranger things fic #self insert fic #eddie munson stranger things

[luvistqrzzz]

･˳ . ⋆ these days i am taken back to the summer we loved

loving you losing you- jay one shot

pairing- jay x f.reader

summary- loving jay was like a dream, a dream so happy you knew he wasn't yours...

or where jay tried to break away from the system of soulmates but fate had other plans for him... and you.

genre- strangers to not lovers (uh oh), soulmate!au, college!au, first love, fluff, angst

word count- 7.7K (can yall hear me scream outta joy??)

warnings- profanity, mentions of drinking, my writing (lawl), sad ending (sorry not sorry)

taglist- @en-chantedtomeetyou

A/N- happy belated jay day <33!! Omfg my first ever oneshot?? I still cant believe i just had the motivation to finish this wip😭😭... its my first time ever writing a long fic so it maybe a bit all over the place but i really enjoyed writing this hehehe! So i hope yall enjoy this :((! try listening to this playlist for more feels it really helped me in the writing process! the beach scene is slightly inspired from 2521

note- this is purely a work of fiction and in no means depicts the idols' real personalities or the relationships between them.

･˳ . ⋆   subtle loneliness

Jay was never the one to believe in fate or destiny or even the fact that there was something like an 'other half. Despite having parents who loved each other and having their soulmate link, Jay never bought it. In a world where every individual was connected to another through some link, be it matching tattoos or the ability to feel someone's pain, he hadn't found his.

For him, it was bullshit. Who even was fate to decide whom he loved? ('Well, no one but, honey, you can't meddle with how it's meant to be', he still remembers his mother's words.)

Maybe as a kid, Jay used to sit long hours in his bedroom, willing to feel his soulmate's link, search for any tattoo and even write on his palm with hopes they'd reply.

Nothing ever happened and as he started growing older, he saw people around him meet their soulmate, he saw the way their eyes lighted up in their mention or the way they used to talk about their other halves.

He grew distant... different. It wasn't easy to be always the odd one out.

Even as Jay tried to go against it and casually date people in his high school, he realized how true his parents were. It never felt right, the feelings were never there and even if they were, they died too soon. In the end, he was left alone.

Which brought us to the present time of Jay's 3rd year in college. He sat on a creaky cafeteria chair observing his friends. Heeseung was busy on his phone messaging his soulmate, Yunjin,. Jake and Lily sat across him, laughing at something Sunghoon just said, their matching flower tattoo glowing dimly.

Looking at them, he felt this sort of loneliness fill in him, the type which made him want to runaway from his life. He had loving and supportive parents and friends who wouldn't leave him but deep down, Jay felt empty. Empty because despite his opposition against the system of soulmates, he knew he yearned for one. He yearned for someone who'd understand him, someone with whom he could share the love he saw in his parents.

'Yo bro, you going to the party today?' Heeseung's voice cut through Jay's thoughts.

'What-? Oh at Yeonjun's place right?'

'Yep', Sunghoon replied getting up. 'Time to get highh- ouch!' He exclaimed as Sunoo smacked his head from behind.

'Shut up, pretty boy. I ain't taking you home', the latter said, walking past the table where they sat.

'Oh c'mon Sun!' Sunghoon whined, following his boyfriend out of the college canteen.

Jay chuckled at their antics. It was almost... cute, he couldn't lie.

Keep reading

･˳ . ⋆   deep conversations with a drunk stranger

You weren't supposed to be at the party. Hell, you should have been studying for a test scheduled next week but being friends with Somi did have its disadvantages. Such as being dragged to some college party as the designated driver.

It wasn't like you hated parties. Quite honestly, you thought they were sort of fun and sometimes getting drunk seemed like the perfect option. But on that particular Friday night, you wanted to be anywhere but at your senior Yeonjun's house.

'Y/N it'll be fun i promise!' Somi begged you, dragging you out from her car to his door. 'No. You are just there to hook up with some guy.'

'Whatever. I am loyal to my soulmate!' She stuck out her tongue whilst pointing towards the black ink on her forearm.

'And who knows', Somi said, entering the house which was presently filled with half-drunk college students. 'Maybeee you could meet your soulmate today.'

You sighed, pushing past people, at the same time waving and smiling to some. 'Sure. My link-less soulmate', you replied sarcastically.

You realized she was leading you to the kitchen which was comparatively quieter but you could still spot a couple out in the distance.

'Hello ladies! What would you like in this fine evening?' The person sitting at the bar counter said, spotting you both.

'Hey Sunghoon, what you got?' You best friend asked the boy leaning against the counter.

'Some beer if you wanna stay with your senses or maybe something stronger. What about my specialty? It has been a hit today.' 'Fine... Lemme judge your bartender skills.

He turned towards you, 'And for you...?' 'Water because I need to drive this bitch back to dorms', You gave the blonde haired girl beside you a pointed look.

She grinned before her eyes squinted, following some guy. 'Ay sunghoon! You know that boy, standing 9 o'clock? Is he taken?'

'That's... Beomgyu. And no, lucky for you, he is pretty single.'

She clapped her hands, almost like scheming her plan. 'See you later, bestie!' Somi gave you a flying kiss, taking her drink from the counter and walking down the hallway.

You sighed, being left alone, your other friend Gaeul was down with a bad flu. You gave Sunghoon a tight lippped smile, accepting a glass of water.

An hour later, you found yourself moving to the backyard of the house. After spending an excruciatingly painful time trying to strike conversation with drunk students and avoiding being pulled into the dancing crowd, you escaped.

The night had cooled down a bit and the spring breeze hit your face, you walked up to the open. But what you didn't see was the figure already sitting in the dark.

'You can sit down if you want to.' You flinched at the sudden voice, turning to face the boy sitting down on the empty backyard.

You considered your options. You could go inside into a crowded party and not have to have a one on one conversation with a stranger. Or maybe you could avoid all the noise and do some small talk with a person who was kind enough to even offer you a seat.

You nodded, seating yourself down beside the boy on the steps. Only then did you notice who he was, 'Park Jay...?'

'Oh, so you know me?' You shrugged in reply. You had heard of him, the handsome and studious guy and spotted him in passing.

It was the first time you had ever seen Jay up close. And to be honest, he was just as gorgeous as you had heard people around you gush, maybe even more.

Almost as if you could look at him the entire day without getting bored.

The boy beside you questioned, 'And you are?' 'Y/N. We are in the same year, in case you're wondering', you added, half knowing what his next question could have been.

'Nice to meet you, Y/N', he extended his hand, giving a wide drunken grin. You shook his hand. It was the first time you had seen him smile because all the other times were from some other end of a college hallway. And you wouldn't lie, it suited his otherwise serious face.

A comfortable silence settled between you two for a while. You both looked ahead. Jay looked up as if counting the stars and you stared at the small garden. You could hear crickets chirp in the distance. And if it weren't for the fact that you had a friend to drive home to, you would have snuggled up in the back yard and slept.

'So, Y/N', Jay's voice suddenly boomed around your environment, as if crushing the calmth which surrounded you both. 'Do you believe in soulmates?'

This caught you off guard. Why would even a stranger be asking you this? 'Uh, that's... random.'

'Just answer me. I'm tired and I wanna talk to someone', he replied, somewhat impatiently.

I mean, what harm could it be? It was a typical topic of conversation and you needed some distraction to keep yourself awake.

Sitting up straighter, you looked towards him whose eyes were distant. 'Well, yep, I do.'

'You must be one of those lucky people who found their soulmates early in life, huh?' He whispered under his breath, not meaning you to listen.

'Actually no', you replied calmy. 'I... don't have a soulmate. Or even a link for that matter.'

It didn't faze you anymore. The fact that you didn't feel any physical or mental signs of a soulmate. Some people did consider it weird. But it was all okay for you.

Jay's head quickly turned towards you. 'So, there are people like me?'

'I'm sorry?' 'Guess I'm just like you, Y/N.'

Your stomach flipped at the new information. You hadn't thought of ever meeting someone who had much the same problem as yours. 'Oh. That's well... new?' 'Why do you still believe in it?' He asked further.

'Why not? Imagine being with someone who understands you so much that it's crazy. Don't you think it's pretty amazing how two people are connected since birth, destined to meet? I feel that's kinda magical. In a cruel world, sometimes it's worth believing in fairytales.'  Jay's eyes were closed but he was listening to every single thing. Almost as if your voice was calming him down, putting a stop to his racing thoughts.

You then added, 'You aren't different, Jay. You just need some time.' Well, this is what you always said to yourself.

'But what about my soulmate? What are they waiting for?' he opened his eyes and you noticed how dark his eyes were but they held a soft subtle innocence in them. Even though Jay had a casual smile on his face, his eyes said otherwise.

You weren't an expert in reading people but you thought you saw a bitter loneliness in his eyes. It reminded you of yourself, which made sense. And for some reason it made you feel sad too, it made you want to take away his sadness.

'They are there somewhere. Don't worry about them. And I hope you find them, just at the right time. Just when you need them. It's hard I know, to go about your day seeing all the people around you together.' You trailed, checking the time. 'Oh fuck! I think I need to jet. Gotta save my friend from making bad decisions', you chuckled, getting up.

'Can you read my mind, Y/N?' Jay wondered. You laughed, 'Oh yes! I'm secretly a psychic. Bye for now, Park Jay.' You waved him goodbye, your thoughts slowly getting occupied with those concerning Somi as you made your way down the hallway.

Jay muttered a small adieu, his face resting on his cheek. He felt lighter and giddier for some reason. Like, excited to meet you again. Something in the way you talked made him listen to your voice again and again.

･˳ . ⋆   almost... complete

Jay didn't believe in fate but after that night he hoped that he could see you again. Even if it was just to talk to you once. All he knew was your name. He was starting to forget your face which he had seen in the dark in a drunken haze.

He may have almost forgotten the sound of your voice a month later if it hadn't been a somewhat familiar voice calling out to him when he was somewhere in the depths of sleep.

'Uh sir, excuse me. We are about to close', you said, lightly tapping the shoulder of the boy who seemed to be asleep, his face down on the table of the cafe where you worked. All around him were pages and books and his laptop was wide open beside him, its screen dark. Typical college student things you could relate to.

Since starting your shift three hours ago, you had seen him in this position. Your only hoped that he hadn't fainted or anything due college pressure. That may have caused you some trouble.

The person before you slowly started to stir after your continuous calls. It was almost 11pm and you couldn't afford to be late to an early class tomorrow.

Seeing him lift his head off the table, you moved away.

'Who wha-' Jay yawned, rubbing his eyes to see his surroundings only to find your widened eyes staring at his sleepy form. His stomach dropped at your sight, moreover at the thought of you finding him sleeping like that. 'Oh fuc-' he hastily patted his hair and wiped his chin for any signs of him drooling.

You tried to hold back your laugh upon seeing him so flustered. You wouldn't lie, he did look adorable, quite a contrast to studious and mysterious vibe he had going on. 'Jay, we meet again.'

'You work here?' 'I mean, I wouldn't be wearing the barista's uniform if I didn't', you replied teasingly.

'Sorry. My bad', he rubbed his forehead. 'How long was I asleep?'

'More than three hours for sure. It's closing time and everyone has left. I suggest you pack up', you pointed at the mess on his table.

He realized what he had done. Slept when he should have been completing his assignment. 'No. It's due today', he whispered to himself, softly banging his head on the table.

'Here', you came from behind the counter and placed a cup of coffee in front of him. 'In case you need to pull an all nighter. This really helps.'

Jay quickly sat up seeing you. He was taken aback, 'I- uh can't accept this.' 'You have to. Now, quick, I need to go back home', you said, closing any room for arguments.

Jay awkwardly stood beside you, finishing his coffee as you locked the cafe. Patting the lock twice as a part of an old habit, you started walking with Jay following in tow.

You wouldn't lie, you were kind of nervous by his presence, you didn't even know why. Plus you were at loss of what to say.

Okay, maybe that wasn't the case... you did have questions for him like why was he so tired, what was his major, who gave him even the permission to look so attractive without even trying- (oh, that wasn't part of the script). Hell, you wanted to know him better and maybe even befriend him. And of course, you hadn't been thinking of him a lot since that one Friday night (ps, it's a lie).

'Sooo', you stopped in your tracks in an attempt to start up a conversation. 'Tough week?' Jay chuckled, catching up to your position, 'You know, you don't have to start a conversation just because we are so awkward.'

Fuck? Your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment, 'Uh-' 'But yep, I haven't had proper sleep in a while. Just have these assignments piling up which sucks.' He let out an exasperated sigh, 'Be a business major, my dad said, it'll be fun.'

'I can assure you that a creative writing major ain't any better', you rolled your eyes, walking up to the bus stop.

'Wait that's so cool!' Jay exclaimed and he meant it. He wasn't at all the creative type and he really marveled at how people could make others feel so much with words.

'Uhh it isn't as cool as it sounds', you scrunched your nose in disgust. Jay couldn't help but feel his stomach do a back flip at your expression. Dude, what is wrong with you? Why are you being a creep? His inner voice scolded him.

'But yea, it's fun when I'm not drowning in- oh the bus is here!' You announced looking at the familiar last bus that ran to your apartment.

You got in, finding a mostly empty vehicle aside from two sleeping college students and a man returning from work. You turned back, raising your hand to wave at Jay only to find him climbing behind you.

'Wait you live south of the campus too?' You asked, confused.

Jay made a surprised face, 'Ah yes! Just a bit farther away from there.' 'Weird I haven't ever seen you in this route.'

He laughed, which you assumed to be, nervously before going a taking the window seat.

You stood their in the aisle wondering whether to just sit beside him or take another one. You knew you should just find another place, considering how empty the bus was but weren't you both having a conversation?

A conversation you didn't want to end...

Jay didn't expect to feel a presence beside him as he looked out of the bus window. Surprised, he turned to look at you staring back at him.

When you saw him looking at you, you quickly ducked your head and cleared your throat, 'Ahem, so as I was saying...' you trailed, questioning whether he wanted to hear your useless banter.

'... About writing? Tell me more about it', Jay eagerly completed for you.

A small smile grew on your face. 'Tell me when you get bored, okay?' You jokingly warned him. I could never get bored of you talking, he thought but nodded nonetheless.

'Well, this would be me', you said, seeing the bus near the stop situated just a block or two away from your apartment. 'Where do you live?' You asked him as you took your bag.

'Uh', the boy stuttered for a second. 'The... next stop yep', Jay gave you a smile, internally slapping himself for the answer.

'Oh', you nodded. 'It was... nice talking to you, again.'

'I'm pretty sure the first time doesn't count', he chuckled. 'Message me once you reach home', he blurted out and then realized what he had just said. He wasn't even as close as a friend to say something like that, what was he thinking?

You felt your cheeks warm at his concern (?). Honestly, you found it very cute. 'Sure Mom', you teased him. 'Bye Park Jay!' You waved, getting down.

His lips quirked upwards, waving back to your slowly disappearing figure before taking out his phone and checking where he was. He had never, for the life of him, even ventured into this side of the town. Mostly he didn't have any need to.

Yes, he had just taken a different route and ended up quite far away from his dorms. All because he didn't want to let a chance go to talk to you.

After he was out of the bus and sitting on a bench, the dim streetlight shining on him, Jay sighed waiting for his cab and rested his head on his cheeks, he wondered out loud, 'what is happening to me?'

He knew it wasn't normal for him to be like this, use up the time talking to you when he should be doing his assignment. But you had an aura around yourself, something about the way you talked, the things you talked about, all seemed to pull Jay towards you. He had noticed the way your eyes sparkled when speaking about something you loved and how you were just as attentive to hear him rant.

He wasn't used to feeling like this, almost... complete.

･˳ . ⋆ against all odds

After that day, you talked to Jay almost everyday. Be it long deep text conversations or a good morning or have a nice day across the hallways, he could always find you somewhere. Sometimes you both ditched your friend groups to have lunch together because it was kind of boring to sit there with couples all around, you both claimed. Somedays you studied together at the library where you found yourself taking small nervous glances at his concentrated face.

But, at least for you, you just enjoyed his presence. Enjoyed how easy it was to strike a conversation with him, talk to him like old friends. Enjoyed how despite being kind of serious, Jay was very funny and he always found a way to make you cringe with him dad jokes.

It was all the small little things about him that just made it harder to not adore him. Like when the time he was willing to take abandoned kitten homes despite being allergic to them. Or when he tried the coffee flavors you were experimenting with, even though, they all tasted awful.

It didn't mean anything else, right...? we are just friends for God's sake! you told yourself. But then why were you feeling giddy at the sight of him walking up to you? Why did you feel your stomach do a sudden turn as he neared you, a soft smile on his face?

'Ready?' Jay asked. You nodded and noticed how casual yet handsome he looked with an oversized t-shirt and shorts. Well, he knew just how to pull any look. ('You know, you could have just chosen a fashion major', you had said to Jay once when he was contemplating his life choices).

'Let's go!' You exclaimed, skipping your way ahead of him. He chuckled behind you, feeling his heart warm at your childish action but then grumbled about how crowded it'd be at the Uni's summer festival. You turned to face him and stuck out your tongue, 'Too late to cop out now!'

You thought it was kind of a crime that Jay hadn't ever been to the festival in the past two years (for his defense, he said that the it was filled with soulmates. 'How can you know if you haven't ever gone there?' You counter questioned him). So, this year you took it up to yourself to drag the boy.

However, surprisingly, it wasn't as hard to convince him as you had expected, just a bribe to treat him to free coffee every week and win him something from the fair.

So, there you both were, walking through the festival, with various stalls set up by the students. You could see Somi in the kissing booth and Gaeul was probably somewhere with her soulmate, Hueningkai, hosting a bake sale.

'How do you like it?' You asked Jay, walking side by side while searching for the game stalls. 'It's... okay. But hey, I was right, this place is filled with soulmates.'

'Omg c'mon now! Let them be. Just because we haven't found ours doesn't mean you have to be so anti-romantic', you playfully slapped his shoulder. 'There it is!' You spotted it, pointing at the ring toss game.

You pulled him through the crowd. Jay noticed the way your hand was tugging at his wrist and he felt a jolt of electricity run through his body at the contact.

'Oh Jake?!' You exclaimed upon seeing Jay's friend at the stall.

'Y/N!' He replied enthusiastically. You hadn't hung out with his friends much but the times you had they had been nothing but warm, especially Jake who was always willing to talk to you.

'What are you doing here?' Jay asked in a flat voice. 'Making money, mate.'

The Australian guy then noticed your hand circled around his and wiggled his eyebrows at his friend. Realizing what he was implying, you quickly dropped his hand, embarrassed.

'One ticket for the game', the tall boy beside you said, breaking the awkward atmosphere that had settled and taking out his wallet.

'Hey! I pay', you scolded him. He turned to look at you with bored eyes, 'Yeah right, no way.'

You sputtered, 'B-but I forced you to come here, I should pa-' 'Which gives me even more reason to pay because you did succeed.'

You grumbled, defeated and knowing how stubborn he could be.

'So, you get four chances with one ticket', Jake said, handing you four rings. 'Make all these four through the pegs and you get a prize. A smaller prize if you get three pegs down.'

You nodded, determined to win.

What followed was your very hard attempt to throw those rings in place. You didn't realize how bad of a hand-eye coordination you had until only one of the rings made it to the peg. 'Fuck! Wait I don't get anything for one?' Jake shook his head, giving a sad smile.

Beside you, Jay chuckled, 'Tried your luck? Let's go.'

'Nope! One more ticket', you took out the money from your bag, beating Jay to it. 'Okay phew!' You prepared yourself, tying your hair.

Jake cheered, 'Y/N you can do it!'

You couldn't. 'Nooo! What the hell!' You cried in defeat, looking at the four hoops that had landed at different places, one even hitting Jake on his head.

'Oh God. You are terrible at this. Here, lemme show you', Jay said obviously done with how poorly you had performed. 'Last round.'

He came behind you, one hand touching your shoulder and the other one holding your hand. You stiffened at it, feeling his breath near your ear.

This was normal, right? Normal for a friend to touch your hands oh so gently and guide it so that you could win the prize?

But I have already won my prize you thought, turning your head to look at him carefully instructing you, his eyes on the game. You didn't know how to stop the blush from settling, seeing Jay so close, his dark eyes sparkling in the setting sun. It felt almost... magical.

Magical but deep down you knew, wrong because he wasn't your soulmate and you weren't his.

In the daze you were in, you didn't realize when and how he had put four rings through the hoop. 'There!' He exclaimed, removing his hand from your. 'That's how you do it', Jay said, flicking your forehead.

'Ouch!' You tried your best to break away from your thoughts, shaking your head and making a face of fake annoyance. 'But ugh-!' You pouted. 'I wanted to win it for you!' You whined

He chuckled, taking a plushie, 'You can still claim it like you won it for me, hm?'

'Fine.' You snatched it from him, turned around for a second before offering it to him, 'My dear friend Park Jay, here is my bribe for bringing you here. Please accept this little offering for I have won it with all my blood, sweat and tears!' You proclaimed proudly.

Yea, quite some eyes turned to your direction but you didn't really mind it. Jay cracked up, before pulling you away from the game stall, 'C'mon noe. Gosh, dramatic much?'

You grinned, 'Only for you.' Playfully bumping your shoulder with his.

He brushed it off but his mind was somehow stuck at your earlier three words. only for... him? It shouldn't account to much, but it did.

After going around the festival for another half an hour, greeting some of your friends, (forcibly) eating the burnt cookies Gaeul had made and stuffing your mouths with some much better food, you both made your way to the open area where the live band took place. It was the star attraction and your college was pretty famous for it.

The best thing was that anyone could come up on stage and sing their hearts out and the audience would follow them. Even before starting college, you used to come there alone to enjoy the vibe.

And now you had Jay with you.

Night had fallen by the time the first band stepped up, hyping up the crowd. Luckily, it was a clear evening, the stars shining bright as the songs started flowing in.

The first few were soft melodies, you swayed your body to the beat and watched Jay standing beside you, his eyes on the stage. You wanted to decipher what they said. Were they mesmerized? Did he feel bored? Was he thinking of something?

Jay wasn't a very expressive person. The only time you had seen him in a fully vulnerable state, filled with feelings, was the night you met him. But you didn't want him to be like that, you didn't want him to hold back his emotions.

So, you took his hand. Jay, surprised, turned to face you. You shrugged and smiled, raising his hand with yours, moving it with the song.

While you closed your eyes, he was still looking at you, his lips parted apart which slowly turned into a small smile. He studied your features one by one, eyes filled with adoration.

And that is when Jay realized. He didn't need any soulmate or his other half if he could spend all his time with you. Like, at that moment how you both were dancing to some fast track; panting, screaming and shouting like everyone else. He didn't need anything else if he could see you smiling, staring into his eyes with orbs filled with joy.

There may not be fate connecting you and Jay but it was fate that had brought you to him and at that moment he felt he wouldn't give up on you, even if he found his soulmate.

'And for the next song, I'll request you to partner up with your soulmate and if you haven't found yours, grab the person who's closest to you', the lead singer said.

Before you could look for a friend or anyone, Jay turned you towards him. 'The person nearest to me, you', he whispered, pulling you a bit closer. You nodded, feeling butterflies going wild in your stomach, unable to look anywhere but his face.

A guitar started to strum in the background and the low, sad voice of the singer followed it. It was a familiar song.

Jay bathed in the lyrics of the song, singing along to Jaurim's 'Til Death Do Us Apart'. You placed a hand on his shoulder and intertwined the other with his fingers. He looked into your eyes, '죽음이 우리를 갈라놓을 때까지 (i'll not let go of your hand that i take).'

'오, 그대여 내 손을 잡아요 (my dear, hold my hand)

이제는 혼자가 아니야 (you're no longer alone)'

You didn't know what passed between you both at that moment but you realized that somewhere along the past few weeks, you had crossed the line of being mere friends with Jay, or rather your feelings had.

Or else you wouldn't be resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his voice flow into your ears like some age old melody you had been searching for...

'Til the death do us apart

'Til the end of the world...'

Later that night, Jay lay awake on his bed, thinking back to the feelings that had dawned on him. He felt a smile make the way to his face as he thought of you. The way you lighted up the world or rather his. He hadn't ever felt so connected to a person. He knew that the feelings he had been harbouring were more than just passing emotions.

Could it be possible...? Possible that you were what he was searching for the entire time. Neither of you had a link, so it could make sense. Jay sat up, the sheets rustling under him.

'Bro, sleep and wipe the lovesick smirk off your face', Heeseung yawned from beside him. 'No I'm not-' he tried protesting.

The other boy turned to face him with a deadpanned look, 'You look different. As in, happier.'

'What...' Jay was confused, he didn't feel that way.. okay maybe that was a big fat lie, he did feel... well, something!

'You know well enough what I mean, Park. Don't act like we are blind to you and Y/N. See, Jay, you have always been kind of a... how do I explain it? Somewhat of a pessimistic sad person, using sarcasm to mask yourself, which I totally understand. But these days, dude, you are more open and free and I think it's because of her...'

Jay didn't know how to react. Heeseung was right. He did feel like meeting you sort of took away the sense of loneliness set deep within him. Not only because you were like him but also because you were you. Always attempting to have fun, to pull Jay out with you, like that one time you both dance in the rain with your friends even though normally he would never. You had a subtle wild and playful side to your deep persona.

'Do you... do you think we could actually be together if I tried?' He asked his friend, his eyes on the dark ceiling.

'Now I don't know the chances of her being your soulmate but even if she isn't, do you want to take the chance to be with her? It's up to you, Jay.'

He was right. There was no gurantee that you both were meant to be but he was willing. He was willing to take the chance.

Against all odds..

･˳ . ⋆ maybe this moment would last forever

In the days that followed the night of the festival, Jay seemed changed, but in a good way or so you hoped. You noticed, in small ways, how he smiled more often, seemed happier when around you and randomly gave you compliments. Jay was a naturally helpful person but somedays you could find him waiting outside your class or walking you home which was quite afar from his, despite your protests. ('See as a good friend, it is my duty to accompany you back home late at night', he said once. You had scoffed, 'Speak for yourself, Park. You are literally scared of everything.')

This was unlike him but what was unlike you was that you liked it. You liked how he made you feel- giddy, excited and blushing. You had had fleeting crushes before but with Jay it was something more because with each little interaction, you found yourself falling more and more.

Love was a strong word and for someone who had never got a sign from their soulmate, you were even more wary of it. In fact, you couldn't even say how it felt. Did it feel the way your parents used to cook dinner together in the kitchen, looking into each other's eyes, having some secret moment pass between them?

'Hey, Y/N', Jay called out to you in a low whisper as you both sat at a secluded corner of the library. You looked up from the short story you were working on for the past hour. It was due in a few days and you were stuck at just the most crucial part if the story.

'What now?' You questioned, rubbing your forehead in slight frustration for running out of ideas. 'Wanna ditch this for a while?'

'Look, Park, you may be having a nice time with assignments right now but I'm struggling to write the ending', you glared at him despite wanting nothing more than to close your laptop shut.

He clicked his tongue, 'Which gives us even more reason to have a little fun, hm?' 'Since when do you give up on our studying session?! You asked, confused at what he was saying. 'It's my job to take you on random adventures!'

How can I even study when you're the only thing in my mind? He thought but replied, 'Guess I should take over your position. Now, give yourself a break, Y/N.'

You sighed but gave in. A break wouldn't hurt... right? Plus, it was Jay so you knew you would have said agreed after some persuasion.

'Where are we going? Are you kidnapping me?' You demanded, packing your things. He winked, 'You'll see.' Your heart did a flip at his action and you couldn't help but wonder what had been taking over your friend (? Or crush? Or the literal love of your life?) for the past days.

'Okay, is this a trap to drive me to my death?' You huffed, sitting in Jay's car, remembering that one time he had offered to drive you home and you had to take over the wheel considering how bad he was driving.

'Don't worry, I don't drive that bad. Trust me.' 'The only thing I cannot do', You lied.

'Are we going...' You trailed, turning your face away from the rapidly changing scenery and looking towards the boy heavily concentrated on the road. He gave a quick smile, 'To the beach? Yep.'

'You know, I could have driven us to there too', you protested seeing how tensed he looked. 'But I wanted to kind of... surprise you', he muttered.

You stopped, staring at his face. God, you couldn't even help it but to giggle at his words. 'Caught you there, didn't I?' He smirked.

You whispered, not meaning him to hear you, 'You did...

You felt his hand on yours. 'Focus on driving, dummy.' But he didn't remove it. A blush caught in your cheeks as you rested your head on the seat, looking ahead. It was almost 6 in the evening but the sun was still up there, thanks to summer.

The beach was quite far from the campus but a mundane happiness filled you, driving down the empty roads, singing along to the music playing. You could hear Jay's soft voice sing under his breath as he slowly gained confidence in his driving. 'You should sing more often, Jay.' it sounds like honey.

'Finally!' You exclaimed, jumping out of the car and seeing the beach spread before you. You squinted your eyes in confusion, 'But why is this so empty?'

Jay came up behind you, taking your hand, 'I drove us to a quieter part. I accidentally discovered it during my first year when me and Sunghoon bunked our classes. Let's go!'

'You know we could get sick, Y/N!' Jay screamed at you as you splashed water all over his shirt.

You teased him, 'Too late! You suggested that we- yah!' You shouted as he suddenly attacked you. He laughed at your shocked face.

'Park, you'll pay!' You warned, searching the sand for anything you could find.

'What are you doing?', he asked, curious before widening his eyes at the sight of you picking up a stray rock and readying yourself to chase him. 'Are you crazy?' He ran in the opposite direction.

Jay turned around to find you catching up to him, laughing, the rock held high up your hand. The wind blew your hair in different directions and the sun casting beautiful patterns on your face. Jay thought he hadn't seen a sight so free before.

He fumbled for his phone, taking it out and snapping a picture before you could protest. 'Delete that!' You demanded, upon reaching him and softly hitting him with the stone.

Jay shook his head, pulling you with him closer to the shore, the waves washing up to your feet and the feeling of the sand slipping under you. 'God, I missed this so much!' You muttered to yourself. 'And I missed feeling so complete', he said.

Your face lighted up at his words. He was a lonely boy and you were a lonely girl but maybe that is what completed your friendship. You both were so alike that you loved small differences you shared.

'What are we? Kids?' Jay asked, sitting beside you in front of his car, waiting for the fireworks.

'Maybe. But I liked this. I like feeling like we are some dumb 10 year olds instead of adults', you said looking ahead at the horizon and reflecting back on the past hour where you both ran around the shore, writing your names on the sand, drenching each other in water and bathing in the happiness that those moments brought.

It felt special, like you didn't want to let it go. 'God, why do I feel like this moment would last forever?' You wondered out loud, a sinking feeling in your stomach knowing how it will end in a matter of few minutes. 'Maybe it will.' Jay scooted closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You looked down at his soft hair and grinning face and put your hand around his shoulder and nervously put your head on his.

For once, you seem to forgot that he wasn't your soulmate, you just wanted to convince yourself that maybe... just maybe Jay could be the one.

You now think how foolish you were to be blinded by those delusions.

'You once said I'll meet my soulmate just at the right time. I guess that didn't happen but I met you, just at the right time. I don't think I want to give up on being twenty or in love with you. I want this summer to last forever, I want us to last forever', his voice came like a soft whisper, the words blending into each other inside your brain as you tried to process what he had just said. You stared back at him, your heart leaping at what he had just said.

The four lettered word you had been scared of. But at that very moment, you thought love found a meaning for you. At that very moment when you saw Jay's face nearing yours, his eyes sparkling with some hidden thought.

However, you knew what they said. Love. 'I love you-' He couldn't complete it because the next moment, you cupped his face, pulling him closer into a kiss.

And that's when you found the meaning of love. It was simple, soft like landing on a bed of feathers, but it was also like a spark, like the fireworks you could hear in the distance as his lips moved in sync with yours in the dying light of the summer, saying the words you don't think you'll ever have the courage to utter. Love was a grand thing but sometimes it just meant spending a summer evening at the beach, letting the feeling of youth wash over you. Sometimes it meant playing a game you couldn't win.

And it was also the moment when you understood what heartbreak felt like because after you broke the kiss, resting your forehead on his, your breaths the only sound you could hear, something caught your eyes. It was Jay's finger that was tracing your cheeks.

It was a red string, so thin, barely visible. The red string of fate, that connected two souls together and that's when you saw, it wasn't connected to your finger...

He wasn't yours to keep.

･˳ . ⋆ letting you go

'Y/N, wait, can... we just... talk?' A voice called out to you from across the almost empty hallway.

His voice.

You stopped in your tracks, a familiar feeling of sadness taking over you. Over the past week, you had tried everything to avoid Jay, to keep him at bay.

The car ride back from the beach was silent, he had been way too shaken to say anything and kept glancing at the red thread emerging from his finger. His soulmate link, something he had searched for ever but it only came when he wanted it to disappear.

Through the long journey, you had made up your mind. That you weren't his soulmate, no matter how either of you felt. And you wouldn't be the one to hold him back.

'What is there to talk?' You asked bitterly, feeling his hand turning you to face him.

'Why have you been avoiding me? Di-did that kiss mean nothing?' Jay's voice broke.

'It meant everything to me-' '- then why?! Are you scared of this?' He pointed at his finger. 'You know I have tried everything to make it go. I have searched online to see what to do with it but I just can't find anything! That's how much I want to be with you, Y/N', he said, desperation seeping into his voice.

'But Jay, we aren't meant to be. I don't want to take you from someone who really deserves you. Don't you see, it will-' You took a deep breath, controlling the tears welling in your eyes. 'It will hurt us both.'

He took your hand, pulling your chin to face his eyes, 'We'll make it work, love. I cannot let a stupid thread decide who I love. Please.'

His please quite literally broke you from the inside and you couldn't help but let one drop of tear roll past your cheek. No one said how hard it could be to fall for the wrong boy. The boy whose line of fate didn't collide with yours.

No one said that letting him go, for both of your happiness would be one the hardest things ever. And maybe because you loved him, you uttered the next few words, 'No. I will not live my life as a regret, thinking I stole you from someone. I have to let go, Jay. You should too.' You pried your hands out of his as Jay's face contorted in sadness, his eyes flickering, unable to hold back his tears.

You couldn't see him cry but mostly you knew you should just withdraw yourself to not cause him anymore pain. You turned around wiping your face and walking away. Away from the one you loved, away from a future you could have had.

･˳ . ⋆ twenty forever

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to accompany Gaeul to the college reunion party. It had almost been over six years since you had seen your classmates.

Since you had seen... him.

It wasn't like you didn't wanna go, heck, you had missed those friends from the days of college too but you knew he would be there and with him would come back all the memories and love you had tried so hard to suppress. They would overflow, creating a new wound or maybe opening the old one.

And he stands before you, a glass in his hands, giving you a small, almost sad smile. He looks different and yet so same to the Jay you had fallen for.

You remember laughing at his jokes, bickering with him over the stupidest nerdiest topics ever, holding his hand as you both ran in the dark. It all flashes like some film montage. But mostly you remember the night when you met him.

A night which was similar to todays. The night you found him drunk in the backyard. You wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to the party, if you hadn't made your way to him.

You'd be a way different person than you were today.

If you try hard enough, you feel like you'll get transported to your memories, where you are still twenty.

His voice comes out soft and tender, 'Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for teaching me how to love and-' He stops, hesitating or rather contemplating whether to say what comes next, 'Thank you for-' '- for being my first love, Jay.'

･˳ . ⋆ In the season when the wind blows and flowers fall, it still seems as if I'm holding your hand...

If you have made it through this mess, drop down a feedback as it really helps! ily and i hope you have a great day/night ^^!!

work belongs to @/luvistqrzzz do not, repost or translate my work.

#enhypen x reader #— works ! #jay imagines #enhypen fanfics #enhypen smau #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen jay imagines #jay enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #jay x reader #enha jay #enhypen jay x you #enhypen oneshots #enhypen jay #park jongseong #park jongseong imagines

[greensword101]

Connor Adopted AU

Okay, this idea came to me a few weeks ago with a little idea for a one shot that has now developed into a large idea.

So, we all know what happens in "Sleep Tight" in Angel, Season 3, right? Wesley decides to not tell anyone about the prophesy involving Angel potentially committing filicide and tries to kidnap Connor for his safety. What happens as consequence is Connor getting kidnapped by Holtz, growing up in the worst hell dimension possible, and Connor returning as a teen and ultimately becoming (in my opinion) the most tragic character in the Buffyverse.

Instead of doing the good old fashioned Poor Communication Kills route here, Wesley decides that Angel has a right to know about the dreaded last line: The Father Will Kill The Son.

Angel...does not handle it well. He insists that Wesley could have mistranslated, is pulling a prank, that he was reading the wrong scroll. In the end, he is forced to accept that it is true. Connor is just a baby. He has only begun to taste life and there are so many things Angel had wanted to do, so many steps he was eagerly looking forward to.

All of it gone in an instant.

"Not quite," Wesley says with a determined light. Angel is despairing that his son will die by his hand. But Wesley has already decided that it will not happen. You don't get half a miracle.

The biggest threats to the baby's safety are Holtz, Wolfram and Hart, and all of the cults obsessed with 'The Miracle Child.' They have to take priority.

"And Connor?" Angel dreads the answer.

Wesley looks close to crying. "We can't keep him..."

No one is happy with this decision. No one. But no one is happy with Connor dying, either, and so they begin making plans to find a home for him. Wesley and Cordelia work on creating a new identity for the baby and finding a foster family. Fred buries her grief in packing up what the baby is going to take to his new forever home. Gunn and Angel channel their rage and own despair into hunting down every last threat to their son/nephew. Lorne is working with the Furies on getting the best protective spells available to hide Connor from enemies and hide him under the radar.

Holtz realizes that he can't move forward with his revenge plan as word of Angel's rampage spreads throughout the underworld. His followers slowly abandon him as their fear for their lives overpowers their lust for blood. Even Justine leaves him, seeing it as a lost cause and there's nothing to be gained from fighting a losing battle.

A family is found, Cordelia fills them in on only what is essential: the baby is in an unsafe environment, the baby's father wants him put into a safe and loving home. Lawrence and Colleen Reilly already have a daughter that is ten years old, and they're too old to try passing the kid off as their own. But all it takes is one picture of little Connor for them to fall in love instantly.

And so, the day the Fang Gang had been expecting and dreading arrives. Angel kisses his son on the forehead one last time before disappearing into the night, unable to bear watching his son be taken away.

"Sleep tight, son. Daddy will always love you..."

Cordelia makes the journey to the Reilly's home with Wesley acting as the decoy in case Wolfram and Hart try anything. She's holding back tears as she hands Connor off to his new family, wishing them well while Lorne is in the car finishing the last of the spellwork to protect Connor and the Reillys. Wesley gets his throat slit when one of Lilah's security team thinks he has the baby. She's furious at being made a fool, but still ensures that Wesley is taken to the hospital because s̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶s̶o̶f̶t̶ ̶s̶p̶o̶t̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ she wants to send a message to Angel.

Angel is the first to see Wesley in his hospital bed, unable to speak and unable to move from his spot. He awaits judgement several feet away.

Angel is quiet. "Did you really think I had it in me to kill Connor?"

Wesley looks at him hard, silently saying You could have become Angelus.

Angel nods. "Do you think I'm Angelus now?"

Wesley doesn't blink.

"Well, I'm not. You believe me, don't you?"

Slowly, Wesley nods.

"Good." Angel stands up and moves to the bed. His hand reaches for the pillow underneath Wesley's head...and gently fluffs it. Then, Angel readjusts his chair so it is right next to Wesley's bed.

"I'm staying here all night whether you want me to or not. That's the least I can do for you."

Wesley reaches out to Angel's hand and squeezes it tight. Gunn is waiting outside with Fred, who is sobbing into her coffee. Every last trace of Connor is out of the hotel, as if he were never there. They stay there the entire night, later joined by Cordelia and Lorne a few hours later.

While one family mourns the loss of one child, another family welcomes the introduction of another into their home. Connor Francis Reilly kept only several things from his old home: his name (including his middle name), a few teddy bears and a duck-printed blanket. Thanks to the efforts of the Furies and Lorne, no supernatural forces come near him. He grows up understanding that he was adopted, that Lawrence and Colleen are not his biological parents...and not thinking any less of them.

Of course, he wants to find his bio family. But only out of curiosity. His mom and dad (his parents) only told him that his mother (or who they think is his mom) worked hard to find a good home for him. He doesn't feel abandoned. He doesn't have any traumatic experiences (other than the one time he got lost in the store when he was five). Connor grows up relatively normal.

He watches Charmed with his big sister when he's a toddler (and connecting with the fourth sister, Paige, cause she was adopted too and loved her parents too), goes camping with his friends, is drawn to a lot of fantasy books like the Anna Rice novels. Mainly the ones that have vampires, for some reason. But never Stephanie Meyers, though. He gives up before he gets halfway through the first chapter in that series. That Bella girl is such an ungrateful brat!

His family goes out camping a lot, which was something Connor loved! He could almost imagine living off in the wild like Tarzan or Robinson Crusoe. Larence laughed at this and said. "You might just become the local menace in the woods."

He also loves to dance. Connor doesn't realize that he is just as artistic as his father and mother (well, Darla could sing well, and Angelus saw murder as an art form, but that's another story). It's mainly because he used to do boxing until he was 8 and punched a bag so hard that sand spilled out.

So, his dad suggested dancing instead. He could be like Billy Elliot and the chances of him punching someone's head clean off their shoulders would drastically decrease. Plus, dancing was fun! He didn't have to wear a tutu (thank God, his sister would never have let him live it down), and his instructors were amazed at how effortlessly he moved on the stage.

That's also how he met his future boyfriend (he's bi, his parents accepted that when he came out), Marcus. Marcus is on the football team and loves watching his boyfriend dance. He can't get over how graceful he is, it's almost inhuman.

Connor Reilly has an amazing life, and he can't think of how it could get any better than that.

About two weeks after he thinks this, the protection spells that were cast to protect him from the supernatural realm and hide him from enemies finally breaks. Connor gets hit by a car and crashes into the garage of his family's home without a scratch on him. His parents, now well into their fifties, get an anonymous tip that they might find answers with a certain investigations company.

They trekked to L.A. and get accosted by a vampire cult. Connor is too stunned to do anything as they pull him away from his parents, screaming their heads off in terror as their only son is ripped away.

Vampires are real. He thinks over and over again as he's dragged underground into what he suspects is connected to the sewers. Vampires are real and I'm going to die.

He's stripped naked save for a loincloth. The man (or vampire) that he suspects in their leader looks euphoric as he looks Connor over in his cell.

"At long last, the Miracle Child is among us once more."

Connor doesn't understand how he could be a miracle. Well, other than how it was a miracle that he wasn't killed by that car. And the other stuff in his life that he is conveniently ignoring for the sake of his own sanity.

"You shall be freed from this human prison and be worshipped among your kind."

Connor doesn't like the way the creep looks close to kissing him just then. He's a minor and already has a boyfriend, thank you very much!

Too soon, he's dragged out and tied to an alter where the Head Creep suddenly changes his face and bares his sharp teeth. Connor tries fighting, but the bindings are too strong and he's frozen with fear.

And then the Head Creep is dust. Literal dust. One of the other creeps is behind him wearing that same Scary Face, but for some reason, Connor isn't afraid of that one. The sword in his (savior?)'s hand shines in the torchlight and slash at the bindings. Before Connor can react, he's swaddled in the robe the Scary-But-Not-Scary Guy was wearing and witnesses all of the other vampires being hacked and staked until there's no one left but him and the other guy.

Then, the face goes back to normal and Connor finds it funny that the guy looks like he's brooding. Well, he would if he weren't half naked and still possibly awaiting death by fanage. Suddenly, a bundle is tossed his way and Connor realizes that it's his own clothes. His savior has the decency to look away while Connor changes, which pushes him further up the Guess You're Not Really A Bad Guy bar in Connor's book.

"Are you hurt?" His savior asks.

"No." Connor says honestly. Then, he realizes that there's a scratch on his cheek (probably from when the sword was cutting off the rope).

For some reason, this seems to get his savior upset. "Oh God, Connor, I am so sorry, I wasn't looking! I wasn't trying to hurt you and" -

Connor cuts him off before he continues to ramble. "How did you know my name?!"

Then, he sees the guy's face. It looks so much like his own, except...broodier and his hair is short. Connor lost his hair band keeping his man bun in check and he has to brush away the bangs going over his eyes.

Connor then realizes that he's meeting his biological father for the first time ever.

#connor angel #angel btvs #wesley wyndam pryce #cordelia chase #charles gunn #winifred burkle #krevlornswath #alternate universe #adoptive parents #family #angel the series #buffy the vampire slayer #buffyverse

[t-lostinworlds]

hi lovely t!! congrats on ur lovely lil celly <3 how about “Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” with stevie? i think you’d make it super cute! lots of love 🫶🏼

A/N: hi bby!! and thank u 🥺💗 i'm sorry this took a lil longer but i hope you like it @stevestummy !!!

steve harrington x fem!reader | wc: 1.3k | dustin's a menace & dorky/shy steve has a crush <3 | prompt in bold!

"This is borderline stalking."

"It's not stalking."

"Uh, borderline, it is," Dustin continued. "No normal or sane person goes to the same café two times a day, six times a week just to get a glimpse of some girl—"

"She's not some girl!"

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," Dustin gasped exaggeratedly, hand on his chest. "The girl you pathetically have an obvious crush on since this café opened—which would make that three weeks of stalking, by the way—and who you've been daydreaming to be your wife and the mother of your kids even though you haven't had a conversation apart from you telling her your same boring coffee order because you can't even ask her number let alone ask her out!"

"My coffee order is not boring," Steve grumbled, cheeks hot because Dustin's rant was still filled with truth…unfortunately.

All because of you.

You who made his heart race and his legs feel like jelly the first time you locked eyes. You who made his brain a jumbled mess, any coherent words lodged in his throat that he was only able to stutter out the first coffee order that came to mind—on more than one occasion that made you believe it was his usual—or else he would've made an even bigger fool of himself by simply staring at you.

Now, Steve wasn't a believer in love at first sight, but this sure did feel close enough.

"What happened to your game King Steve?"

He groaned, head thumping against the steering wheel. "Jesus, man, I get it—"

"Do you really think she's dumb enough to buy your excuses that you're just showing your friends the new café by bringing a different person, mostly kids not your age, every single time you come here?" Dustin babbled on. "You're so obvious about it already! So just ask her out!"

"What do you think I'm doing here!"

"Stalking!" Dustin argued which earned him a glare. "What? You're in your car, waiting for her to clock in because you want her to be the one to take your order instead of sitting inside like a normal person because you don't want to make it obvious that you are waiting for her only as if parking your car in front of the establishment for the past ten minutes without getting out isn't a giant red flag!"

Steve blinked. "What did I ever do to you?"

Dustin took a few deep breaths before smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just hungry, man, I haven't eaten lunch and I can smell their croissants every time the door opens."

Steve sighed, checking his watch.

"Come on. She should be here any minute now."

He internally cringed.

Maybe it did seem like he was stalking you when he even knew when you usually clocked in at certain times of the week.

In his defense, he'd been here plenty of times and it took some trial and error. Once he figured out roughly what your schedule was, it simply became a routine. He didn't go out of his way to steal your timetable and memorized it like some serial killer.

"Yeah, that's not creepy," Dustin grimaced. "Not creepy at all."

"I'll buy you anything you want if you don't embarrass me once we're inside," Steve gritted as he got out of the car. "If not, you're paying for yourself."

Dustin grinned toothily. "Deal."

•••

Steve's fingers were tapping on the wooden countertop as his eyes flickered between the menu and the 'employees only' door.

Your co-worker was behind the counter but didn't make an effort to go over to where they sat on the stools, much to Dustin's dismay. It was almost as if she knew that Steve wanted it to be you who'd take his order. 

His face warmed at the thought.

One that was definitely proven right when she shot him a knowing wink as she disappeared into the back and announced the end of her shift, his palms sweating as he watched the closed door in anticipation

Steve's heart jumped out of his chest and landed on the palm of your hand when you walked in.

Your eyes immediately found his, your irises twinkling and oh so fucking beautiful, smile sweet and warm that turned his brain to mush and all he could think about was: pretty pretty pretty.

Steve struggled to pick his jaw off the floor as he tried to return your grin without looking too much like a lovesick fool.

He knew he failed miserably at that.

Painfully and so downright obvious when he gawked at you, adoration filling his bones at the way you listened attentively to Dustin as he listed all the pastries he wanted to try like they were free—well, Steve supposed since he offered to pay for it all, it kind of was.

"Hey, Steve," you greeted cheerily, beaming. "The usual?"

"H-Hi! and yeah–yes…please," he said, smiling timidly, cheeks flushed, heart skipping when you giggled. It took Dustin kicking his foot to stop him from staring at you for a couple of minutes more. Gathering his sanity, his courage, his breath, his everything, he cleared his throat, "So, uh, do you wanna—uhm…burger? Maybe fries? Milkshakes too!"

"Steve, we don't serve those here," you chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in your eyes, tone teasing. "I thought you knew that already? Being a regular and all."

"No, no, no, it's uh, I meant—" Steve took a deep breath, and he swore he was having a fever because of how hot his body felt. "Wanna, like—I mean, if you’re not busy…We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?"

"Well, I think I've had enough of coffee," you said, face scrunching in the most adorable of ways as you waved around you, the smell of freshly roasted beans strong in the air. "And it's way past lunch already."

Steve's heart fell into his stomach.

"Oh."

This was it. You were letting him down gently. You probably realized just how fucking creepy he'd been acting coming here all the time and—

"How about dinner this Friday night?"

"Yes!" he squeaked, his face burning red. He saw Dustin bury his face in his hands, muttering about how painful this was to watch. Steve ignored him as he turned back to you. "I mean, yeah, I'm free Friday…any time—for you, yeah."

"Cool," you giggled, and Steve swore if he'd hear that angelic sound one more time, he was going to ask you to marry him. You scribbled something on your notepad, your smile shy yet bright as you ripped the paper and handed it to him. "Here's my number. You can pick me up at seven."

"O-Okay," he choked out, cheeks hot and hurting as his grin grew wider. "I will."

Then, you leaned over the counter and kissed his cheek and Steve swore his heart stopped beating, brown eyes wide, jaw hanging, awestruck and dazed as you took his breath away. 

"It's a date," you whispered, fingers resting under his chin to close his mouth, winking before you made your way toward the door. He tried to fight off his frown when he immediately missed your touch, craving more. "I'll be back. I promised Dustin over here to get him one of the freshly baked croissants in the oven."

"Thanks, Y/N!" Dustin chuckled, waving excitedly.

"Fucking slap me," Steve breathed out once you were out of earshot, flinching when a palm hit the back of his head. He glared at his friend. "It was rhetorical!"

"I can't believe that worked," Dustin groaned. "That was so fucking bad."

Steve rolled his eyes, grinning smugly as he waved the paper you gave him. "I still got her number, didn't I?

"Technically, she gave it to you, idiot. You didn't do shit but ask for burgers and fries in a place that serves coffee and pastries. You've got nothing to be smug about."

Steve couldn't even find himself to be embarrassed about it. He was too high on life, his cheek still tingling from where your lips had touched his skin, your sweet scent still lingering in the air that nothing could ever bring him back down.

"I'm still getting the girl."

"Yeah, with your serial killer stalker strategy"

"Shut up."

⤷ t's february frolicking celebration

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